“Every student needs to learn to write his name first,” she said primly.
“All right.” He formed the C. It looked much more boxy than her curved example.
She next wrote the lowercase a.
Caleb copied. When his name was effectively spelled out, she made him write it several times until he could write it without looking at her example.
“You are doing very well,” she said, still using that teacher voice.
Caleb set down the chalk and brushed off his fingers. “It’s because I have a good teacher.”
Her blue eyes smiled back at him. The room had taken on an orange-gold glow with the late-afternoon sun nearly setting. Such a different day than the one they’d spent dodging the storm. When a faint blush stole over her cheeks, he realized he’d been staring at her for more than a few moments.
“I must say, the first lesson was a success.” She set the slate back in its place and gathered the chalk they’d used. She rose to her feet, brushed off her own hands, then clasped them together.
It seemed the lesson was over, and she was ready for him to leave.
Caleb stood as well. He didn’t want this time with her to end just yet. He’d come here for more than a lesson. Yes, he wanted to see her, but he also wanted to talk to her. He wanted to tell her that his mind had changed. “Harriet,” he said in a quiet voice.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze.
“Do you ever regret our conversation on that night we walked along the hotel street?” he asked.
A small crease formed between her brows. “You mean when you . . .” She cut off her words, and the color in her cheeks darkened.
“Yes, that night. I said some things that might have been true at the time, but they aren’t true anymore.” Caleb had said he’d never marry again. He’d also said that he was willing to kiss her, if only for experience. But now, he wanted to kiss her for a different reason. “Can a fellow change his mind?”
The edges of her mouth lifted, yet she took a step away from the desk, putting a new distance between them. Was she rejecting him?
“I suppose he might,” she said. “I mean, it’s a woman’s prerogative, but perhaps there can be exceptions.”
“I’d like the exception.”
She folded her arms and turned from him, then walked slowly toward the door. She didn’t open it, though, merely stood near it, her gaze focused on the adjacent window.
Neither of them said anything for a few moments as the orange-gold light faded to a softer peach. He continued walking toward her, and still she didn’t turn around. When he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs touched the warm skin of her neck.
Her exhale was like a sigh through his own body.
“Caleb,” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“I’ve changed my mind too.”
He didn’t need any more words between them, and when she rotated to face him, he knew exactly what they’d agreed to. He shifted his hands and cradled her face. The blue of her eyes had captivated him from the moment he’d jumped into the ocean to save her. And now, those same blue eyes reached an even deeper part of his soul.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and he closed the distance. The first touch of their lips was tentative, soft. And then she twined her arms about his neck, and he drew her flush against him. Deepening the kiss, he became lost in her warmth, her softness, her touch. He moved his hands up her back, feeling the heat of her skin through her blouse, and she raised up on her toes to pull him even closer.
Her flowery scent surrounded him, pulled him in, and he knew that whatever reservations he’d had after Lucille, every single one of them had fallen away with Harriet.
“Caleb,” she whispered against his mouth, “this is much more than one kiss.”
He smiled and kissed her again, lingering. “I never meant it to be one kiss.”
“Oh?”
He pressed his mouth against her lower jaw, then trailed kisses along her neck. “Did you want it to be one kiss?” he whispered.
“At first I thought I did,” she murmured. “But now . . .”
She drew away and locked him into place with her blue gaze.
His heart thudded. “Now . . . ?” he prompted.
“Now I don’t want you to stop.”
He chuckled and pulled her into a tight embrace. She squeezed him back. He could get used to this; he could reopen his heart and let Harriet in.
Harriet was in love. She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. Well, she knew how it had happened, but she’d never expected it to happen to her. Not with the man who’d pulled her from the harbor waters, and who spent his days on a fishing boat. But the thought of Caleb now, while she was in a room full of students, wouldn’t leave her.
Her thoughts were full of his warm brown eyes, the dark copper of his hair, his broad shoulders, and the way his blunt fingertips brushed against her wrist when he held her hand across her desk in the late afternoons during their twice-a-week tutoring sessions.
“Miss Silverton,” a young voice said, standing in front of her desk as if he’d been waiting a while for her to answer.
Harriet blinked and smiled. “Yes, Jeb?”
“My ma needs me home early today,” Jeb said. “Says her baby is coming soon.” The boy’s green eyes were bright with anticipation.
“Then you can leave for the day,” Harriet said.
He grinned and was out the door in a flash. A few of the other children complained that they wanted to go home early too. But for the most part, the children were content at the little schoolhouse. They adored Vivian, and Harriet could see why as she watched her friend move among the desks, checking on their arithmetic.
Harriet tried to refocus on the short stories she was grading, but her thoughts continually returned to Caleb. He said he’d had a surprise for her today, and after school she was to meet him at the docks. She hadn’t slept much last night as she lay in bed wondering what on earth his surprise might be. She wouldn’t mind if he stole another kiss.
Over the past few weeks, she’d looked forward to their tutoring sessions for more reasons than just spending time with him. He made her laugh, he made her swoon, he made her feel like all the hardships before coming to Seattle had been worth it. Because he’d been here at the end of it all.
“You’re sighing again.” Vivian stopped near the desk. “Great story?”
Harriet’s face warmed, and she glanced at the paper in her hands that she hadn’t been reading at all. “Oh, I’m sure it’s lovely.”
Vivian smirked. “Do you need to be excused early, too, like Jeb?”
“No,” Harriet said quickly. “I’m perfectly capable of focusing on the task at hand.”
“Um-hm.” Vivian winked, then moved to the board. “Class,” she said in an authoritative voice. “Many of you are missing a crucial step in your sums. We need to carry the one this way.”
Harriet glanced at the clock on the wall. Less than an hour to go. She could do this.
And perhaps she shouldn’t have nearly run to the harbor after the school children left, because her pinched feet would be sore later, but her heart wouldn’t stop its fierce pounding.
She spied Caleb where he said he’d be—on his fishing boat where it was tied to the dock. He was cleaning the boat, and she surmised he’d already brought in his catch for the day. The sun overhead was warm, and only a few wispy clouds scattered across the sky. Otherwise, the barely-there breeze made today pretty much perfect.
The moment Caleb lifted his head and their eyes connected, her heart melted at the smile that spread across his face. He straightened as she approached, his gaze making no secret of his slow perusal of her person.
Already, she was blushing, and he hadn’t said one word to her.
He remedied that in the next moment. “Harriet, you’re early.”
“Oh, am I?” she said, arching her brow. “School got out the same time as every other day.”
The edges of h
is mouth quirked.
“All right, so I left Vivian to do the cleanup,” she said. “I’ll make it up to her.”
He moved to edge of the boat and held out his hand.
“Oh, no,” she said, folding her arms. “I can wait on the dock for you to finish.”
His smile broadened, and he kept his hand extended.
Harriet considered his hand, then she looked at the boat. As long as they were tied to the dock, perhaps she’d be all right. So she placed her hand in his, and he hoisted her onto the boat.
“Here, have a seat,” he said, still holding her hand as he led her to a small bench.
She sat down and gripped the edge of the seat.
“Not so bad, right?” he said.
She shrugged, trying not to grimace. “It’s a beautiful day.”
He only flashed a smile and continued cleaning.
Would it be impertinent to ask him what his surprise was? She looked about the boat but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, as far as her scant knowledge of boats went.
When Caleb finished the cleaning, he turned to her, holding a thick vest of some sort. “Stand up,” he said.
She frowned. “What is that?”
“It’s a life preserver.” He grasped her hand and drew her to her feet. “Ordered it from a catalog, and it arrived the other day. See, if someone is wearing this and they fall off a boat, or a gangplank, they won’t sink below the water. This keeps them buoyant.”
Harriet gazed at the thing. It looked bulky and uncomfortable. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
He chuckled. “Wear it.”
“No, thank you.” Then she paused. “Is this your surprise?”
Another chuckle. “Not quite.” He lifted her arm and slipped her hand through the opening of the vest.
“I really don’t need this,” she said. “The harbor is fine. I don’t plan on falling off the boat.”
Caleb wasn’t listening. He continued to slide the vest onto her, then he tied the straps in front. The breeze ruffled his hair as he worked, and she was close enough to kiss him if she raised up on her toes a little.
When he finished, he lifted his gaze. “Ready?”
Her breath stalled at his nearness. “For what?”
“I’m going to teach you how to fish.”
She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Then her mind caught up. “No, Caleb. I don’t want to learn to fish.”
He closed the distance then and kissed her.
At first, Harriet was stunned. Anyone about the harbor would be able to see them, and by kissing her in public Caleb was making quite a statement. Then, second, she became suspicious. Was he trying to coerce her? Make her forget her protests? Finally, she decided she didn’t care anymore. His hands cradled her face, his skin rough and warm against her. If it weren’t for the life preserver, Harriet would have pressed against him, but the thing was bulky and prevented such a thing.
As it was, the kiss was all too brief.
“Sit down, Harriet,” Caleb said, his brown eyes twinkling.
She didn’t even care that he was being extremely bossy. Sitting down, she reveled in the warmth that still coursed through her body from his kissing. Without a word of protest or complaint, she watched him untie the boat from the dock, and soon they were sailing past the other boats.
“We won’t go far,” he said.
She said nothing, then he came over to her and took her hand. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.
“I think so.”
He smiled and ran a thumb along her jawline. “Look around you. It’s a beautiful day.”
She swallowed. She could do this. Turning her head, she saw that they weren’t all that far from the harbor and there were plenty of other boats in sight.
“Ready to learn to fish?”
She blinked. “Here?”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes trained on her. “Come on. I think you’ll love it.”
His words weren’t exactly prophetic, because Harriet couldn’t say she loved fishing, but she got better at casting the nets. And at the end of the next hour, she could confidently admit she’d enjoyed herself, especially when Caleb hauled up a net that she’d cast, and there were two dozen fish in it.
She watched in fascination as he dumped them into a holding container. She even helped catch one that got away and slipped across the deck. For that, she earned another kiss.
Of course, enjoying this fishing excursion might have to do with Caleb’s presence and the feeling that they were isolated from everything and everyone else. Cocooned by the warm sun, the light wind, the soft creaking of the boat, the deep tones of Caleb’s voice, and vast blue surrounding them.
Harriet was starting to understand the pull of the ocean, and she enjoyed watching Caleb in his element. She knew she’d never tire of watching him work the sails, examine the fishing nets, and the look of triumph on his face when fish were a direct result.
She didn’t mind this life she was living, not at all.
So, when Caleb joined her on the bench and asked, “Are you ready for your surprise?” she was confused.
“Isn’t being whisked away to fish my surprise?”
“No.” His mouth lifted at the edges. “It’s part of it, because I wanted to make sure that you didn’t detest my living.”
Harriet was about to argue but stopped herself when she saw the earnest expression on his face. She supposed her comments about never wanting to step on a boat again had really affected him. But now . . . She inhaled the warm, salty air. Somehow, she could breathe freer around Caleb, no matter what they were doing.
“Remember how you agreed that a man could change his mind?”
She nodded. “I do.”
His smile widened, and he took her hand in his. “Good. I was hoping you did, because I’m in love with you, Harriet Silverton.”
The words drove into her heart, making her head spin. Caleb . . . loved her?
He slid his fingers between hers, and her heart hitched. “I’m still months away from affording a wife, but I hope that you’ll take pity on me and agree to a long engagement.”
She knew then that it was a matter of pride to Caleb that his wife wasn’t forced to remain in the workforce. The school board would release her as a teacher anyway once she married, but in these modern times, some women would take in work at home although they were married.
“You want a wife, Caleb?” she whispered.
“I want you, Harriet,” he whispered back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
She looped her arms about his neck. “That’s nice to hear, since I’m in love with you too.”
He grinned. “Is that a yes?”
She edged closer. “Are you proposing?”
“I am.”
“Then, yes, I’ll marry you, Caleb Munns.”
This time, she kissed him. Perhaps it was good that she wore the life preserver, because much more of Caleb in her arms would have made her never want to return to shore. With the wide, blue ocean around them, Harriet let herself become lost in his kiss.
It turned out that Harriet hadn’t come to Seattle to find a husband, but somehow, she did anyway.
Click on the cover to check out Heather’s next romance:
Heather B. Moore is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical thrillers under the pen name H.B. Moore; her latest are The Killing Curse and Breaking Jess. Under the name Heather B. Moore, she writes romance and women’s fiction; her latest include the Pine Valley Novels. Under pen name Jane Redd, she writes the young adult speculative Solstice series, including her latest release Mistress Grim. Heather is represented by Dystel, Goderich & Bourret.
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TERI HARMAN
January 3, 1866
Boston, Massachusetts
Cora Martin walked to the edge of the dock and set her small case at her feet. A stiff breeze rolled over Boston Harbor. She smiled, the wind stirring her excitement.
Father Bracewell stopped beside her, folded his arms. “I must ask you once more, Cora. Are you certain this is the right thing to do?”
“Yes, I’m certain.”
“I don’t trust this Mercer character. The papers say he’s only interested in the money.”
“As are most business men. He’s a means to an end, Father. There’s a great need for skilled nurses and midwives in the West. I want to work, to help.”
“But it’s such a long way. Down to the bottom of the map and back. So many things could go wrong.”
Cora shook her head. For more than five months they’d circled through this argument. “I survived an orphan childhood, the battlefield surgeries of the war, my husband’s death, and Mrs. Bracewell’s Irish cooking. A sea voyage will be nothing.”
A half smile lifted the reverend’s bearded cheek. “You’ve certainly got a stomach of iron. That’ll serve you well on the waves.” He sighed. “I hope there truly are good Christian men to marry in Seattle, as Mercer claims. You’ll need a husband in order to survive out there. Your age shouldn’t be a problem; a smart man will see the advantages of taking a widow as a wife. Women in their thirties are wise and sober.”
“I’m only twenty-eight, Father,” Cora corrected, unable to stop herself. She didn’t feel wise and sober. She felt a childlike giddiness for all the possibilities of the West.
Bracewell waved his hand in dismissal. “Right, right. I know you haven’t been eager to remarry, but Thomas has been gone for over a year now. It’s time.”
Cora’s stomach tightened as Thomas’s bloodied face flashed in her mind. Even as he’d lain dying, legs mutilated and torso crushed, he looked at her with that cool indifference she’d grown accustomed to over their seven years together. Part of her had longed for a last-breath spark of emotion, some flicker of passion. She’d waited for her own feelings to swell and deepen. But Thomas’s death couldn’t change how they felt and who they were. Theirs had been a marriage of convenience, nothing more. So she’d sat beside his cot, more nurse than wife, while gunfire echoed over the frigid night and the last of his blood soaked his navy uniform.
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