by Jillian Hart
“Picnic?”
“Tomorrow after church, to welcome you,” Stella explained.
“We thought it would be a pleasant way for you to meet the students and their families before school begins on Monday.”
“I see.” Stella had put so much work into preparing for her arrival. Constance would stay until they hired a replacement teacher or Stella took over. “And you’ve arranged a place for me to stay?”
“You’ll be staying with me.” Kyle stepped up to the driver’s seat.
“I beg your pardon?” She couldn’t possibly!
“Temporarily,” he said, a smile tilting his lips. “Until we finish the living quarters above the schoolhouse. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of weeks. My place is closest to the school.”
“We have a room all ready for you,” Stella assured her. “It’s down the hall from mine. We’ll be able to walk to the schoolhouse.”
“The school isn’t in town?” She’d assumed she’d find residence in a boardinghouse where meals would be prepared for tenants.
“Pine Ridge isn’t much more than a row of shops in mountainous terrain,” Kyle said as the wagon jostled forward. “Homes are spaced across various meadows. We chose a location for the school we felt was accessible to the most students. The apartment above the school has a front room with a kitchen and a separate bedroom.”
“We’re not a full mile out,” Stella told her. “We even have a play yard. The desks arrived last week.” Stella talked excitedly about preparations made for the classroom, but Constance barely heard a word as she stared at the broad shoulders directly before her.
Sweet Mother Mary. Not only was her handsome cowboy her employer…she was expected to reside in his home?
The sweet scent of pines bathed her senses, and for the first time in two years, Constance felt a sense of coming home.
Reclined against the cushioned seat as the wagon bumped along another winding road, she stared up at towering redwoods reaching toward the waning light of a blue sky. Tall mountains rose up on all sides, hugging the vast forest. After a childhood of drifting across the midwestern plains from one temporary home to another, she’d never felt secure on open ground. While at the mission, the endless miles of dry grasses beyond the high walls reminded her too much of the vast emptiness she’d traveled through during her youth. Montana was the first place to ever feel like home, with its tight mountain valleys and woodsy aromas.
“It’s just up the road,” Stella said from beside her.
As they rounded the bend she saw the massive log cabin rising up in the center of a green meadow. A wide, covered porch stood out from the front and wrapped around each side. A barn to the right of the house was still under construction.
The men riding ahead of them shouted a farewell as they rode on.
“The school is another half mile on the east trail,” Stella said as Kyle stopped the wagon before his house. “Pine Ridge is another mile.”
“Good evening.” A giant of a man with shaggy white hair stepped from the barn. A smile softened his rugged features as he strode toward the wagon.
“Stella,” he said, offering his hand to assist her as she stepped down.
“Thank you. Günter Hagen, this is Miss Pauley, our schoolteacher. Günter’s the town sheriff.”
“A pleasure, Miss Pauley,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of a foreign accent.
Kyle stepped up to Constance’s side of the wagon as she stood. “I’ll help you down.”
Her heart fluttered as she took his hand. “Thank you.” She quickly moved to the back of the wagon.
“May I help you ladies wit’da packages?” Günter asked, holding his arms out to Stella as she pulled the first bundle from the wagon.
“You may.” She smiled brightly as she piled all of them into his waiting arms. Even Stella appeared short standing beside the tall sheriff.
“You had a nice visit in the valley, I hope?” he said to Stella.
“Yes. Did you miss me?” she asked in a teasing tone.
“Ja. I did.”
Kyle stepped between them. “You can go ahead and take those into the house. Second bedroom on the right.”
“He forgets I am the sheriff, I think,” Günter said, smiling at Constance.
“Sheriff Hagen also makes a fine handyman.”
Günter laughed and started toward the house. “The handyman needs to speak with you once your guest is settled.”
“Everything all right?”
“Ja. Quiet here. Miss Pauley, you will like Pine Ridge.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” The fact that Sheriff Hagen hadn’t once glanced toward her skirt gave her hope. Perhaps they hadn’t told everyone.
Stella brushed up beside her. “We’ll visit the school first thing in the morning.”
Kyle stayed a few paces behind them, his gaze fused to Connie’s petite form. Hours of gripping the reins and resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder every time he heard her voice left an ache in his muscles. The moment he stepped inside the house the succulent aroma of baked chicken and fruit pies seized his attention. Stella and Connie disappeared into a bedroom to the right of the long hall leading to the back door. Kyle dashed to the left, heading straight for the kitchen and his stepmother.
Corin met him in the doorway. She smiled at the sight of him.
An older version of Stella, she nearly equaled his height.
“You’re home!” Her smile faltered. “You’re mad,” she said, accurately reading his expression.
“I’m furious, ” he corrected, and continued into the kitchen, not wanting their voices to travel into the hall. Pies lined the drainboard and tabletop. The flaky golden crusts made his mouth water.
“I should think you’d be pleased.” Corin crossed her arms, drawing his attention to her stubborn stance. “We needed a schoolteacher and Miss Pauley needed a teaching job.”
“How did you know Miss Pauley needed a teaching job?”
“Daniel informed us she’d been taken in by the nuns for her recovery. I’ve stayed in correspondence with Sister Agnes.”
“Daniel gave you updates?”
“You refused them.”
“I didn’t want to get involved! ” he whispered harshly.
“You brought her here all the way from Montana—”
“Not here. I took her to San Francisco for doctoring. I deliberately kept myself anonymous.”
“She has no one, Kyle. Sister Agnes expressed concerns for her future outside the mission monastery and mentioned she’d taken well to teaching. When Juniper and Lily started plans for the school it seemed the perfect solution. I saw no reason to thwart our plans because you’d come home. You did choose her application.”
He recalled the crisp, swirling handwriting that had caught his attention right off. Miss Pauley had been the most qualified applicant, complete with references. “If you’d already decided, were the other applicants even real?”
His stepmother’s downcast eyes answered the question.
“Corin. How could you deceive me like this?”
“I didn’t set out to deceive you. I tried to talk to you the night you announced you’d be moving to Pine Ridge, and you walked away at the first mention of her. She was injured during your raid and you feel responsible, I understand.”
No, she didn’t. He was responsible!
“I hoped seeing how well she’d recovered would ease your burden. I’m told she’s a lovely young woman.”
“I’m certain she is, but is she qualified to run a classroom of eighteen new students?”
“According to Sister Agnes she’s an excellent teacher. I know you’ve at least been curious about her.”
“That doesn’t mean I want her here. She wasn’t pleased to discover I’m her new employer.”
“How could she not be pleased? You’re a good man with a good heart.” Corin’s tender gaze revealed the unconditional love and pride of a mother, which served to increase his frustration.
>
Lord save him from the good intentions of his family.
Chapter Four
It’s perfect.
Constance stood at the front of her classroom and looked out at the twenty desks spaced across the floor, ten on each side with a potbelly stove in the center aisle. Freshly painted white walls brightened the room. Open windows on each side of the schoolhouse revealed a lush green meadow surrounded by tall redwoods and a beautiful spring day. Her desk sat off to the side of a wide slate board covering the wall behind her. In her fondest dreams of teaching in her own school, she hadn’t envisioned such a classroom.
“I think we’re all set.” Stella placed the last bundle of books on a seat at the back of the room. The founders of Pine Ridge had generously donated a leather book strap for each student.
Slate boards and chalk sat on the desktops. She and Stella had written a student’s name on each one.
She glanced around a final time. “I believe so.”
“We should have just enough time to change and freshen up before the picnic.”
Constance was glad Stella had talked her into buying two dresses. After a morning of sorting books and chalk and shuffling supplies, her peach dress was a mess of dust and smudges.
“You’ve done a wonderful job with the preparations,” Constance said as they walked into the narrow coatroom before the front door. “Thank you.”
Stella beamed. “I’m glad you think so.”
Outside, Stella’s parents had set up a long row of makeshift tables and covered them with tablecloths. Ben sat in the shade of a tree, reclined against the wide trunk. Corin leaned against him, wrapped in his arms.
“You’ll have to excuse my parents,” Stella whispered, her cheeks flushed.
“I think they’re sweet.” Ben had arrived early that morning and had obviously missed his wife. The moment Constance looked up at his warm blue eyes she’d known he was the father of her cowboy.
Kyle’s not my cowboy, she silently corrected. Her cowboy was a fantasy. Yesterday she’d seen only glimpses of the gentle man she’d met on the train. From the moment he’d realized she was the schoolteacher, his blue eyes had revealed an underlying steel she wouldn’t have expected to see in her cowboy. Since arriving yesterday evening he had avoided her completely by hiding out in the stable behind his house.
“All set?” Ben asked as he and his wife got to their feet.
“I believe so.”
As the four of them neared the house, she spotted Kyle standing in the yard beside a man of similar height. Their hats tugged low, she couldn’t see their faces, but Kyle’s relaxed stance and strong build was impossible to mistake for anyone else.
They rounded the last bend in the road and she saw a woman standing beside the other man, the top of her head not quite reaching his shoulder. She held the hand of a little girl who couldn’t be much over a year old. A pink bow held up a sprig of strawberry-blond hair, the same color as her mother’s.
“Juniper and Lily Barns,” Stella told her. “They own the lumber camp and started the Pine Ridge community for their employees. Oh, May’s with them,” she added brightly, and Constance noticed the young lady with ebony hair and spectacles standing near the wagon.
“Juniper’s sister,” Stella told her.
Lily Barns turned as they approached, revealing a round belly heavy with child. The young girl let out a happy squeal at the sight of them. She broke away from her mother’s grasp chanting a word vaguely close to “Stella.”
“Hello, Rosemary,” Stella said, rushing ahead and scooping the child into her arms.
The moment they reached Kyle, he gave a round of formal introductions. Mr. and Mrs. Barns smiled in a way that made Constance’s heart sink.
“Miss Pauley,” they said in unison, the greeting sounding more like an apology. They knew.
“Wonderful to meet you,” Constance replied, and didn’t dare look at Kyle for fear her anger would boil over. Had he told everyone?
“Welcome to Pine Ridge,” said Lily.
Her husband reached down for the little girl now tugging at his pant leg. “I’m sure glad you weren’t hurt in yesterday’s stampede.”
“Thank you. We’ve just finished setting up the school. It’s a lovely schoolhouse. I’m looking forward to meeting the students today.” At least, she had been a moment ago.
“We haven’t gotten to see it yet,” said Lily.
“We should head on,” Juniper announced. “We need to make it home before the picnic.”
“Miss Pauley,” said Lily, “we’ll visit more this afternoon.”
“I look forward to it.”
Stella and the others followed them to their wagon. Constance continued into the house, devastated by the thought of the entire community knowing of her life’s history. She walked into her room, a dented tin canister on the chest of drawers catching her attention.
Her salve. Thank goodness! Someone had found it at the stockyard.
She opened her wardrobe and blinked at a rainbow of shirts, skirts and dresses. For a moment she wondered if she’d entered Stella’s room. Her hideous floral dress hung amid the others.
“What in the world…?” She pulled out a light pink skirt and held it to her waist. The perfect length.
Lily Barns’s compassionate gaze flashed in her mind, a woman about her size. Had Kyle asked the founder of Pine Ridge to give her clothes? Heat flamed into her cheeks as utter humiliation washed through her. He expected her to parade around the entire community wearing their founder’s hand-me-downs?
The front door closed and Constance rushed into the hall. Kyle tugged off his hat and shoved a hand through his dark hair as he let out a long breath.
“Mr. Darby.”
Kyle froze. The sight of Connie standing in the hall clutching a pink skirt sent a wave of prickling caution over his skin.
Her golden eyes blazed with anger.
“Whose clothes are in this room?”
“Yours,” he answered in a casual tone, holding his ground though every ounce of his common sense told him to turn tail and run. Lily had outdone herself, arriving with an alarming number of parcels. Fearful of Connie’s reaction, he’d helped her put them away, filling the bedroom wardrobe and dressers.
“You are mistaken,” she insisted, the stubborn set of her chin lifting a few notches higher.
“I had Juniper’s wife pick out a few extra dresses at the dress shop.”
“They’re new? ”
“Of course they’re new. Mrs. White altered them to your measurements.”
Her eyes narrowed as she stomped toward him. Oh, hell. This was one livid woman.
“You had no right!”
He held up his hands, certain she was about to go for his throat. “You needed dresses.”
“I have plenty!”
“You had three.”
“Which is more than I’ve ever owned.”
His blatant surprise increased her rage.
“I don’t come from wealth,” she spat. “But I do have some dignity. Or rather I did! I can’t imagine what Mrs. Barns must think of me.”
“Lily didn’t—”
“Choosing clothes for me as though I’m an abandoned street urchin—I won’t have it! You will write down the exact cost of those clothes and I will pay you back every cent.”
“No, I won’t,” he countered. “It would take a year of teaching wages to pay for all Lily had hauled up here.”
“Yes—you—will,” she said through clenched teeth. “Or you will have new dresses hanging in yourwardrobe.”
“Connie—”
She stomped her foot, and damn if he didn’t flinch. “You can call me Constance or Miss Pauley. I applied for a teaching job, not charity! ”
“I never meant it as charity. Think of it as a gift.”
“I will not. It’s hardly appropriate for you to buy me anything.
You had no right to purchase additional clothing without my consent. If fashionable attire was p
art of your job requirement, you should have stated so in the advertisement.”
“I know how women are when it comes—”
“You don’t know me! ”
He couldn’t argue that. He hadn’t thought there was a woman born who’d be fighting mad over a pile of new clothes. Yet there she stood, five feet of rigid fury.
“You will present me with a statement or you can save your schoolhouse and fancy wardrobe for the next teacher, because I won’t be here to have use for them.”
“It would take a year to—”
“Then it will take a year.” Her gaze burned into him. “I’ll send you payments after I leave.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I suggest you start advertising immediately,” she called back on the way to her room. The door slammed shut behind her.
Hearing Stella’s and Corin’s voices approaching from the porch, he made a fast retreat to the safety of his office on the other side of the house. He walked around his desk and tossed his hat onto a stack of paperwork as he dropped into his chair. He felt as though he’d taken a head butt from a bull.
She definitely has a temper.
He leaned back in his chair as a bundle of ruffles and crinoline appeared in the doorway, Connie’s white-gloved hands strapped around them. “What’s—”
The garments landed on his desk. “These have not been altered and can be promptly returned.”
He stood and pulled a long wool coat from the pile. “You need a coat. Mornings and nights get cold up here.”
Her fisted hands slammed onto her hips and Kyle’s focus shifted to her shapely figure—an observation he’d noted often enough.
“I was in the dress shop,” she said, drawing his attention back to her narrowed eyes. “For the price of that one coat, I could have bought three.”
“You need a coat. Who cares what it costs?”
“I care! If you had lived your life out of a charity bin you might appreciate the insult.”
“I never intended to insult you.”
“As if the dresses aren’t bad enough.” A quaver in her voice revealed something more than anger. To his immediate horror, tears hazed her eyes, tears she instantly blinked back. “You had to tell everyone about my injuries.”