Heart of Gold (A Gold Rush Romance) (11 page)

She continued, “I love my profession, and I love the students here. When I agreed to teach, I promised to play by their rules, and that means not doing things that I would like to do, such as running through grass, swearing when I am angry, or kissing the man I like—“

The last phrase, combined with her gesture in his direction to punctuate it, was too much for him. He pressed his lips to hers, hard, cutting off the flow of words. Alice seemed startled, then softened and responded, but only for a second before pulling away. The conflict in her was clear to him, and he hated that he always seemed to make things even more difficult for her. He wanted this to be as simple for her as it was for him.

Alice looked down at her hands folded on the table, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. His voice rolled over her. “I shouldn’t have done that, I know. Again. I can’t seem to stop myself from misbehaving around you,” he said.

She was silent, unsure what to say. She needed to stop this before it went any further. Really and truly stop it. After several moments, she responded, “I’ve told you, I cannot.”

He leaned even closer, his expression so earnest that she had difficulty keeping her hands laced together. “Why? I know about your employment and the rules,” he continued, “but is that really a valid reason for you?”

She smiled, but there was sadness in it. “I love my profession and my students, so I follow the rules, no matter how ludicrous.”

As she said it, though, she knew it was a lie. She broke rules all the time: she had her secret agreement with the students, for one. For another, they would never let her teach in the first place if they knew of her marriage. Of Ben.

She dragged her nails through her hair, wishing she could pull it down from the unyielding bun that sat on the back of her head. She had nothing to say, so she just looked away from his penetrating eyes, focusing on the lace tablecloth Mrs. Leach used whenever guests visited. After what felt like hours, Thomas stood up and left the room without speaking again. She stayed seated, listening to him say his farewells to the Leach family, and then the door shut behind him and Joe. He was gone.

It had been the longest, most exhausting day she’d had in a very, very long time, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her bed. But she had no strength for even the smallest tasks, which included leaving the table, saying her goodnights, and then making her way to the room at the top of the stairs.

Mrs. Leach came into the room and put her hands on her hips. “What is wrong with you, dear?”

Alice was taken aback. Mrs. Leach always had the patience of a saint, but now she seemed annoyed and Alice had no idea as to why. “I’m sorry?”

Mrs. Leach gestured in the direction of the front door. “A very attractive and nice man likes you, and you ignore him. I finally get you two alone, and after about five minutes of that, he leaves looking like someone who was just told that Christmas was cancelled. If you had a shred of sense, dear, you would marry him and let yourself be happy, for goodness sake.”

Alice was too tired to argue. She rested her head on her arms and repeated her refrain. “I am a teacher. There are rules.”

Mrs. Leach shook her head. “You are smart enough to not let rules stop you from doing anything you like.”

Alice was hesitant and far too tired to explain her other reasons, so she stood up, shuffled to the door blocked by the fiery lady, and, in the friendliest voice she could muster, said, “Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Leach. I will consider what you said. Goodnight.”

“Posh. Don’t pull that teacher voice on me, dear.” She put her hands on Alice’s shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “Alice, I think of you as one of my daughters. I want you to be happy. You just need to let yourself do so.”

With that, the older woman left the room, and Alice was once again alone. She stood there for a moment, then made her way to her room, pleased that if nothing else, at least the day was done.

***

The next afternoon, Alice leaned her elbows on her desk and looked around at the empty schoolroom, glad the students were finally gone. It had been another difficult day. She doubted she could go on like this much longer. At least she would not have to spend the afternoon waiting, anxious about seeing Thomas again so soon. She had the evening free of expectations or responsibilities, and since it was Friday she had two days to recover from her very long week.

There was grading to do and other preparations to make for the next week, but the room felt stifling from the warm day outside and she knew it would be useless to try to work through her muddled thoughts. It would be good to rest, spend some time relaxing and reading in her room. Just the idea of it made her feel somewhat better. She rose, anxious to leave.

As she walked to the edge of her desk and tidied the last few items, though, what she saw through the window made her groan. Mr. Wilson was striding toward the schoolhouse once again.

His actions from the day before stood out vividly in her mind, but she had not come up with any sort of plan. Now that he was only a few yards away, her brain rattled with ideas, each as terrible as the last. There was no way she could threaten him with revealing what he had done to the rest of the town—nobody would believe her word over his, even if she was the schoolteacher. He was far too respected.

She hated to accept the fact, but she was unable to ignore the truth: her employment was almost entirely in his hands. She would just let him know she would not tolerate that behavior and hope he would accept it. It was not a very good plan, and seemed unlikely to work in her favor, but what other option did she have?

He walked in and marched up to her, his mouth smiling, his eyes calculating. As many times as she had considered running from someone or something in the past few days, the urge had never been this powerful. Still, she stood her ground.

“Hello, my dear Miss Crenshaw! It is lovely to be in your presence again.”

She kept her voice flat, her face expressionless. “Mr. Wilson. Is there a particular reason you are here today, sir?”

He sidled up to her, once again far too close. Her heart sped up as she felt panic rising in her chest. Her brain screamed at her to find a way out.

His smile grew a little wider. “Nothing except to see you.”

She wanted to get outside, to breathe in the fresh air far away from this man’s oppressive presence, but he blocked her escape route, leaving her nearly cornered. He said, his voice sickly sweet, “You, Alice, are quite the woman. I hope you know how much I think of you. I know you want your position here to be quite secure, and I thought you should know that I, for one, am happy to help you keep your situation as long as you want it.”

His thick stubby fingers touched her cheek softly. She cringed back, but he closed the gap with surprising speed. His hand drifted to the back of her neck, and before she could react he was pulling her toward him.

His lips pressed against hers, rough, hungry, and painful. She tried to step away, but was held in place by the hand grasping her neck and he only pressed harder, now trying to force his tongue into her mouth. Adrenaline surged through her, and with one supreme effort, she managed to push herself away from him and escape the hand that had held her prisoner.

As she stepped back from him, Alice swung her hand with all the strength she could muster, her open palm hitting his cheek with a loud smack. She hit him so hard that her hand felt nearly numb except for pinpricks of pain. For a brief moment, she felt large, triumphant. He grabbed his cheek and staggered back, his eyes wide and angry, an expression she had never seen on his face. It terrified her, wilted her sense of victory. “You bitch!” he spat. “Don’t you know who I am? If you cross me, you will never find a job again, do you understand?”

Her brain refused to think about his words. All she wished to do was hit him again. “Get the hell out of here,” she said, her voice quivering with anger.

He glared at her for a second, then turned and hurried for the door, flinging his words behind him. “I expect you to come to my house tonight and apologize. It will take a good deal of convincing for me to allow you to keep your position and your credibility as an educator.”

At the door, he faced her, his leering expression nauseating. “You will need to spend all night convincing me, my dear, or you’ll be out on the street before I’m through.”

And then he vanished, the door swinging shut behind him.

Alice wanted to vomit. The room suddenly felt like a coffin, far too close for her to breathe properly. She needed sunshine and fresh air.

After a glance out the window to make sure he had truly left, she hastened out the door, needing to feel free. Her quick strides moved her to the dirt road in seconds, but once there, she paused. She had no inclination to go home—she needed to move, to think, and curling up in her bed, which had seemed like a wonderful idea only a few minutes before, now sounded stifling.

She turned north, walking through the wild field grass and ignoring the distant lowing cows. Alice felt as if every nerve in her body stretched to the breaking point, and she needed to do something before they snapped. After a few steps, she began to run, the breeze fresh on her face. Her legs felt powerful as they moved her deeper into the unkempt land, away from the dirt road and the schoolhouse and her terrible day. Her heart was beating so hard it was nearly painful, her breath was coming out in ragged gasps, and she only wished she could run even faster.

When she reached Thomas’s house, she was dizzy from the lack of oxygen and slumped down on the porch steps gratefully, panting. Running had not helped her escape her problems—they were all still there, vivid as ever, in the front of her mind—but the physical exercise made her feel a little better even so. Before she dealt with her difficulties, she needed to speak with Thomas. Now that her employment was vanishing, she had a few things to say to him.

“Alice?” a confused voice asked from behind her.

She was startled before realizing it was Thomas, which seemed silly since she was sitting so near his front door, but her nerves were frayed to the point that she could hardly think straight.

She turned and looked at him, and felt her tension begin to drain away. She was still confused and upset, but at least one thing was right in the world.

Chapter Six

Thomas was startled by the strange sight that greeted him when he opened the door. He had not expected to see Alice on the steps, her shoulders heaving as she gulped in air, her shawl and bonnet both missing, hair falling from her bun, which was in complete disarray.

When he called her name she looked at him, and her expression managed to surprise him even more. Her whole face bespoke of panic and fear, like a wild animal that had just escaped a predator’s clutches. It calmed somewhat as she looked at him, but it was still there.

Without thought, he sat beside her on the step and put his arms around her, wanting to keep her safe from whatever had made her look like that. She stiffened at first, but he murmured, “You’re safe, Alice,” and she softened against him.

Then she began to cry.

His heart ached at her pain, even though he had not even a guess as to what prompted it. There was nothing to do but hold her close and comfort her as best he could. He petted her back and her hair, wishing he could do something to help. He kissed her cheek and nose softly without thought, simply wanting to comfort the woman he held so dear, and he waited for her to calm.

Her tears slowed, and she lifted her head to gaze up at him, the normally bright green tint of her eyes darker than he had ever seen them before. His heartbeat sped as he realized how close they were, felt his hands pressing against her back.

She kissed him lightly then, his lower lip sliding between both of hers for an instant, sending his blood rushing like fire through him. He tightened his grip on her and kissed back, tasting the salt of her tears on her lips, his need for her surging through him.

He wanted to go further, his hands ached to touch every inch of her. But he stopped himself and leaned away from her, creating distance between them. Before he lost complete control, they needed to talk. There were things he needed to know, and he hated to think he might be taking advantage of her troubled state.

She slumped forward and pressed her hands to her face, then rose and looked into his eyes, the fire in them piercing his heart. “Let’s go inside.”

He trailed her, watching the woman carefully. She had not resumed her normal façade, and he could not guess where all this was going to lead, but he was curious enough to follow and ask no questions. Without turning toward him as she walked into the sitting room, Alice asked, “Is Joe here?”

Had he heard, or just imagined, the hope in her question? “He’s staying with a friend tonight. There’s nobody here but us.”

“Not even a housekeeper?”

His heart thudded at the possible implications of his answer. “I had her go home early. I figured I could make do on my own.”

She nodded, her nearly-destroyed bun bouncing on her neck, and turned toward him. Her body dropped onto the sofa and slumped forward, an unladylike move that proved more than anything how tired she was, and she gestured to the space next to her. He sat next to her where she indicated, wondering what would happen.

Her voice was low and husky—most likely from the tears, but his stomach flipped with the possibility that it could be from arousal—as she began, “There is something I have told nobody around here, Thomas. But I want tell you. I need you to listen. Will you do that?”