Second Chance Bride (16 page)

“No, I meant to go this way. As I said, I have a request, a favor to ask you.”

Within a few minutes, he pulled up to the stable, handed the reins to Duffy and swung out of the carriage.

“Good evenin’, teacher.” Duffy nodded at her.

“Good evening, Duffy.”

“You going to help that pretty filly out of the carriage or do you want me to?” he asked John.

“I can do this,
viejo.
You just take care of the horses and keep them ready to go. I’ll be back to take Matilda home in a few minutes.”

When John put his arm out, Annie placed her hand on it and stepped carefully from the carriage.

“My favor isn’t difficult,” he said as they walked to the house. Once there, they entered the hallway where Lucia took his coat, gloves and hat, and Annie’s cape.

“Please sit down.” He waved at a chair as he sat behind the desk. “I believe Elizabeth has told you we’ll be leaving Trail’s End in mid-January, a few days before the end of the term. We’re going to St. Louis to visit my wife’s parents, Elizabeth’s grandparents.”

“A long trip.”

“We’ll be gone for nearly two weeks.” He looked down at his desk, then back at Annie, as if judging her in some way. “Matilda, I don’t have an accountant or manager for my ranch. It’s not a large spread. I employ only Ramon, Lucia, Miguel and Duffy for the house, and have fifteen cowboys and their foreman in the bunkhouse to take care of the land and cattle.”

It sounded like a huge place to her.

“Usually when I go out of town, Farley Hanson takes care of emergencies, especially if they involve money, but Farley plans to spend time in Fredericksburg.” He smiled at her. “I wonder if I could prevail upon you to handle any emergency financial issues that come up.”

“John, I don’t have that much money.”

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that pulled her into its warm embrace. “No, I don’t expect you to pay. I need to be able to entrust the key to my safe drawer to someone in case there is a need for more money than I’m leaving with Lucia.”

“Couldn’t Lucia handle this?”

He shook his head. “I wish she could, but I need someone who can write down the withdrawal. None of the people here have that ability.” He smiled at her. “I don’t believe there’s an urgent need for this precaution, but I’ll feel better if someone I trust is here to take care of any money required for an emergency.”

Someone he could trust? Not a word that had been used to describe Annie often.

“Of course.”

He stood and turned to the bookshelves behind him. “I keep one key with me at all times, but the other key is here, in this book.” He pulled a massive tome from the shelf, put it on the desk and opened it. “I glued an envelope in the front.”

She watched him take the key out and noted the place on the shelf the book had come from. The name of the book was Moby-Dick; or the Whale—an odd title. She hadn’t realized people wrote entire books on whales, but then she’d read so little.

He closed the book and handed her the key. “Come around to this side of the desk and let me show you the drawer.”

As Annie moved around the desk, he took a few steps back to allow her room. “Put the key in.”

When Annie did as requested, the drawer opened. She pulled it out and flipped open a lid to find stacks of money inside. “Oh, my. I’ve never seen so much. How much is here?”

“More than a thousand. The exact amount is in the account book there.” He picked up a book on the corner of his desk. “Precisely two-thousand fifty-three dollars. If you need to withdraw any, please write it here,” he said, placing his finger on a column. “And give the reason.”

“Why do you need so much money?”

“A rancher can have large, unexpected expenditures. If the boys needed to move the cattle, they have to have expense money. Or if they need to purchase cattle, or if Lucia runs out of food or Ramon needs more feed.” He closed the drawer and locked it. “I don’t expect any of that. We have an account at the general store and the cattle should be fine. But if there were an emergency, I’d feel better knowing you’d take care of it.”

She nodded. “Thank you for trusting me.”

He slipped the key back into the book and put it on the shelf. “Now, shall I take you home?”

When he turned, they stood only inches from each other, so close together in that small space behind his desk. For a moment, his gaze tenderly stroked her face. He took her hand.

“You look very lovely tonight,” he said in a warm, soft voice. “Are your earrings new?”

She nodded. “Amanda gave them to me.”

As she smiled a little self-consciously, he studied her face. “Very pretty.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but then he lifted his eyes and glanced toward the door.

Aah, yes. It was open. She stepped back and broke the connection that had entranced them for a few seconds.

“It’s time for me to take you home.” He held her hand for a few more seconds before he dropped it. “Lucia,” he called. “We’ll need our wraps again.”

By the time they’d reached the hall, Lucia held up Annie’s cape for her to slip inside. Once swathed in their winter garments, he led her toward the stable where Duffy stood with the horses.

“Here they are, boss. I stuck a new hot brick in there, Miss Cunningham.”

“Thank you, Duffy.”

After carefully assisting Annie into the carriage, John got in on his side and took the reins from the older man. Without a word, he flicked the reins and the horses took off.

They approached the schoolhouse in a comfortable silence. Once there, he pulled the vehicle next to a stand of trees, which sheltered it from the wind and the road. The moonlight shining through the leaves of the live oak trees covered them with lacy shadows. She breathed in the pungency of evergreens, the smell of the leather of the carriage and John’s scent of bay rum. An owl called from a tree on the other side of the schoolhouse. Only a second later, an answering hoot came from the meadow.

Warmth radiated from where her arm touched his—only a small area, but the slight heat filled her. It was a perfect moment.

She looked up at him, surprised to see his head bent toward her, so close while they sat in this secluded haven of peace and security.

When he placed his hand over hers, she didn’t pull away. They were alone, just the two of them, with the rest of the world far away. Her past, her fear held at bay by the kindness and strength of the man who bent toward her as if all he wanted was to keep her safe, to protect her, to be with her.

“Matilda, it can be no secret how I feel about you. I believe I’m falling in love with you. I would like to know what you think about the two of us together. If you truly don’t welcome my attentions, I’ll leave you alone, but I’ve felt this evening a change in you, as if my attention may be appreciated.”

She could tell by the ragged edge of his voice, in the yearning she heard, that he didn’t want to leave her alone. She said, “I have so little to offer.”

He took her hand. “You are beautiful.”

“Oh, no. Amanda is. I’m not.” She held her hand up when he started to interrupt. “Your wife came from St. Louis, from a good family, I’ve heard. The Hansons are a good family, and Amanda’s rich and beautiful. She’s perfect for you.” She shook her head. “I’m a mere schoolteacher.”

“You should not disagree with a man who tells you you’re beautiful.” Laughter echoed in his voice. “Besides being beautiful, you’re intelligent and a fine teacher. You care about the children, you sing wonderfully, you play the organ and share your gifts with everyone. You’re good and innocent and generous.” He stopped and studied her face. “Have I left anything out?”

She wanted to move away from him, to escape his compliments, but she couldn’t create any space between them in the tiny enclosure. “Oh, no. I’m not all that. I’m not good, not a bit.”

“That’s what I see, and you
are
beautiful.”

For another minute, they sat next to each other. He slid his arm across her shoulders and kept his hand on hers while the shadow of the moonlight played across his features. Then he lifted her chin with the other hand and whispered, “Now I’m going to kiss you.”

Fear stopped up her throat while tears gathered in her eyes.

“I’ve done it again, haven’t I? I’ve moved too fast.” He withdrew his hand from hers. “You’re such an innocent. I promise to remember that.”

He sounded so sad. “Perhaps a kiss on the cheek?” she whispered. She would like that, she believed. She hoped.

“That would be nice.” She heard a smile in his voice. He leaned his head closer to hers until she felt his breath feather across her cheek. Then he placed his lips there for a few seconds.

When he pulled away from her, she placed the palm of her hand over the place that he had kissed.

“Now,” he said briskly, “if you don’t want another kiss, let me escort you inside before you freeze out here.”

She paused for a moment, wondering if another kiss might not be exactly what she’d like, but John had already turned and opened his door. “I can—”

“Of course you can get out of the carriage and walk to the door by yourself, but I enjoy playing the part of a gentleman.” He leaped down from the seat and strode to her side, assisting her down, his touch filling her with a glow on this cold evening. He kept hold of her hand and ambled slowly toward the schoolhouse. He stopped at the bottom step and leaned toward her so she could feel his cheek close to hers. “Good night,” he whispered in her ear, his words tickling a little.

Dazed, she climbed the steps and let herself inside. As she turned to close the door, she saw him get in the carriage. In a few seconds, it disappeared. Again Annie put her hand against her cheek as if she could feel his kiss there.

The wonder of it all—she had not been frightened by his nearness or his kiss, not a bit. And he trusted her, enough to show her where he kept that money, all that money, more than she’d ever seen before. He trusted her, which made her want to trust him in return.

After a minute, the world rushed back. No matter what he said or felt, she was not good and beautiful. And she hadn’t been an innocent for years. No, she was only Annie. No amount of moonlight or sweet words or kisses would change that, no matter how much she wanted it to. No matter how much she yearned to be good enough for John, she had to remember who she was and what she’d been. Otherwise, she could lose absolutely everything she’d come to love so dearly in Trail’s End.

O
n January eighth of the new year, Annie watched the students leave on the last day of fall-term classes. She had ten days to study before the spring term began.

Elizabeth and John had left a few days earlier to visit her mother’s family in St. Louis. They’d taken a train to Corsicana, then changed to another headed for St. Louis. The trip, Elizabeth had explained, would take over three days each way. “Which,” she had added, “leaves us less than a week to visit with my grandparents but my father says that is more than enough time to spend with people he doesn’t like anyway.”

Probably one of those bits of information John wished his daughter hadn’t shared.

Over two weeks had passed since John had brought her home from the Christmas party. Other than the few times he’d come by to collect Elizabeth, she hadn’t seen him. With a sigh, she picked up Minnie, who was meowing at her feet for attention. “You are such good company,” she said to the cat. Minnie had grown so much in the months since Annie had found her on the doorstep—she was no longer a little ball of fur.

She settled at the desk with Minnie purring in her lap and turned to the geometry section of the math book. Wilber would be ready to start on it soon. He ate up lessons as if he were starved and, indeed, she believed he was. Staying ahead of him taxed her, but she would use this section when Ida and Martha came back next term.

If Annie were still here next term.

A few hours later, she heard a vehicle stop in the yard. Moments later, Amanda called out to her.

“What do you have planned for this week?” Amanda said as she closed the door behind her. “Anything fun?”

“Studying, as usual.” She pushed the book away.

“How do you plan to celebrate Valentine’s Day with the students?”

“Valentine’s Day? What is that? When is it?” Annie frowned.

“February fourteenth. How could you not know?”

“We didn’t celebrate it where I’m from. I don’t even know what it is.”

“It’s the day when we tell people how much we love them. I always give my father a present.”

“Like Christmas?”

“Not as grand and not at all religious. It’s really just for fun. Let me show you something.” Amanda reached in her purse and handed a piece of paper to Annie.

On the front of a folded page were two layers of paper lace with flowers around the edges. “This is lovely,” Annie said. “What is it?” She turned the page over. “Where did you get it?”

“It’s a Valentine’s Day card. They’re very popular in the East. A friend sent it to me.” She opened it up. “She wrote a verse inside.”

“Friends are life’s greatest gift,” Annie read. “That’s so true.”

“Do you want me to come and help the students make cards with you?”

“They’d really enjoy that. You made decorating so much fun at Christmas.” Annie studied the card and ran her hand over the lace. “Do you have plans for this Valentine’s Day?”

“I’ll make my last attempt on the sheriff.”

“Your
last
attempt? You’re giving up?”

“I can’t tell you what I’m going to do, but if my plan doesn’t win the man, I
am
going to give up.” She looked at an unconvinced Annie. “Really, I am. Truly. The spectacle of my chasing the sheriff while he runs the other direction has become entirely too mortifying. My failures have completely destroyed my confidence.”

“Miss Cunningham, you have a letter.”

Annie was in the mercantile, her work for the day finished. After completing a few purchases, she was admiring a piece of fabric.

A letter? Probably from Miss Palfrey, which was not good news. She hated deceiving Miss Cunningham’s friend.

“I recognize the handwriting. It’s from John Sullivan,” Mr. Johnson said.

The grocer’s words made her heart beat faster. She took the letter from his hand and noted John’s clear handwriting. Why would he do such an improper thing as to write her a letter? “Must be something about school,” Annie said.

“Must be.”

Even if Mr. Johnson didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the scandal of a single man writing an unmarried woman, Annie was. But she had to read the letter. It came from John, after all.

Once outside the store, Annie tore the envelope open and scanned the words.

When she reached the schoolhouse, Annie settled on a chair and read the epistle again and again, touching the thick strokes of the pen, running her finger over his signature. “I hold you in my deepest affection,” she read aloud, and smiled.

“What do you hear from your friend Miss Hanson?” The sheriff sat on the bench outside the schoolhouse and watched the children playing with battledores and shuttlecocks on a sunny and unusually warm afternoon in late January.

Annie pulled her gaze away from the students to glance at him. “Why do you ask, Sheriff?”

He studied the children more intently. “I haven’t seen her in a few weeks. That concerns me.

“Who knows what she might get into that pretty head?” He stretched his legs. “She hasn’t approached me lately. I don’t sleep at night, wondering what she might be planning.”

“Why, Sheriff Bennett. I believe you pine for Miss Hanson’s attention.”

He didn’t look at her, but a muscle in his cheek tensed.

“You do find her attractive.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter if I do. Her father wouldn’t allow me to court her. Some things in life you just have to accept.”

“But you do find her attractive.”

He leaned forward on the bench and smiled at her. “Miss Cunningham, if there’s a man in Texas who doesn’t find Miss Hanson beautiful, he must either be dead, blind or too stupid to survive out here. She’s one of nature’s finest works.” He stood. “And you’d better not tell your pretty friend anything I said because I’ll deny it and that would make her unhappy.”

Annie grinned as he stood and ambled toward his horse. She’d love to see the final showdown between Amanda and Sheriff Bennett. No doubt existed in her mind who would win—Amanda was determined and the sheriff wasn’t dead, blind or stupid.

He turned back to Annie and shook his head. “I’m too old to play games like this. That’s what you can tell her.”

“You can tell her yourself, but I don’t think you will. It seems she’s finally breaking down your resistance.”

“I’m hardly any young woman’s dream man. I’m old and used up and ugly.” He touched the scar for an instant.

“Sheriff, you are far from ugly. Clearly Amanda thinks you are the handsomest man in Trail’s End.”

He grinned for a second at her reply. “Certainly you have to admit I’m hardly the stuff a young woman’s dreams are made of.”

“One young woman seems to believe you are, Sheriff.”

He stared at Annie for a moment, and then mounted his horse and left without a reply. Annie could hardly wait for Valentine’s Day.

Annie awakened to knocking on the door of the schoolhouse and shook her head. She must have fallen asleep at her desk. It was late at night and the sound startled her. Who on earth could it be?

“Matilda?”

It sounded like Mr. Sullivan. Why would he be here? She stood and started toward the door in the flickering light of the oil lamp.

“It’s John Sullivan.”

She opened the door. “Hello, John.” She smiled at the sight of him. “Welcome back. Is everything all right? Is there an emergency?”

“I’m sorry to bother you.” He looked at her, taking in her hair, which she knew must be standing up at odd angles, and her face, which probably had deep marks on her cheek from the edges of her books.

She put her hands up in an effort to tidy the mess, but he took them in his grasp and held them.

“I shouldn’t be here, but I’ve missed you.” He smiled.

She couldn’t help but smile back. Then she yawned.

“Were you studying?”

“Until I fell asleep. Where have you been? Elizabeth has been back in school for days.”

“I’ve been away on business. When we returned from St. Louis, I received a telegram that I was needed in Austin to deal with a legal matter about the boundaries of the ranch.” He stopped and studied her face. After half a minute, he continued. “I brought Elizabeth home, then took a coach that was leaving for the capital immediately. It all happened so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to tell you. I feared writing another letter would cause gossip and speculation.”

“Boss, you ready to go?” Duffy called from the shadows. “I’m an old man and getting cold.”

“Duffy picked me up in town. The stage arrived late.”

She nodded. “Are you all right? Is someone sick?”

“No.” He continued to scrutinize her. “I wanted to see you. That’s all. It’s been so long.”

She could hear the affection in his voice. As usual, she didn’t know how to respond.

“I’m attempting to guard your reputation, although it would be done better if I hadn’t come by.” He laughed softly. “
El viejo
has never been a chaperone before. But if anyone finds out I’ve visited you this late, he can say that nothing improper happened.”

“But he might tell—”

“No, Duffy knows better than that.” He gazed at her for a few moments more without speaking. “I just wanted to see you,” he whispered. “Only for a minute, but I had to see you. I’ve missed you.” He touched her cheek softly. “Good night, my dear.”

“Good night, John.”

“Boss, I’m really…”

He reluctantly dropped her hand before he headed down the steps and toward the surrey on the other side of the grove of trees.

What had just happened? And where had the usually solemn, upright John Matthew Sullivan gone? She smiled. She liked the lighthearted John she’d met before. Perhaps, she’d find a way to spend more time with him.

On Thursday afternoon, both Miguel and Wilber worked in the schoolroom.

“Very well done,” Annie told Miguel as he copied his spelling words. Lucia smiled. She was learning a great deal while she watched her son.

“Miss Cunningham.” Wilber closed his science book and put it on the desk. “I’m going to have to leave now. My brothers and I won’t be back the rest of the week.” He stood, carried the book to the shelf and paused by her desk, his large frame towering over her.

“Why not, Wilber?” She got to her feet.

Wilber shrugged. “We have to dig a new well for the livestock. The old one dried up.” He shook his head. “If we don’t get some rain soon, we’re going to lose crops and livestock. But what really scares us is the possibility of prairie fires.”

“But it’s only February, Wilber. Surely we’ll have some rain soon.”

“The drought started in May, ma’am. It’s going to take a lot of rain to make any difference.” He turned and headed toward the back door.

“Do you want to take a book with you?” she asked.

“No, but thank you. I won’t have time. I’ll miss being here.”

“We’ll miss you, too, Wilber.” After Wilber left, Lucia rose. “We need to go,
mi hijo,
my son.”

“Please, no,
Mamá.
I’m in the middle of answering questions about a story.” He kept his eyes on the book.

“This drought,” Annie said. “It’s really bad?”

Lucia nodded. “We had another like it six years ago. Mr. Sullivan worries. Up north, they’re getting some rain so the streams are running fairly well. As long as that keeps up, the cattle will be fine. But the crops suffer, and the grass and shrubs that feed the cattle, and the dry trees—all that could go up in flames any minute.”

“Hello?” John stood in the door of the school. “A word, please?” His gaze settled on Miguel and Lucia.

“Mr. Sullivan,” Lucia said, curtsying. “Come along, Miguel.” She took her son’s hand and hurried him away.

With the exception of church and evening meetings, Annie hadn’t seen John since he’d come by that late evening in January. She didn’t understand his inconsistent courting—was this how it was done?

Annie stood next to her desk. “Hello, John.” He had obviously assumed his identity as member of the school board, serious and solemn. His expression worried her.

He frowned and said, “I have something serious I need to talk to you about.”

She nodded.

“I’d heard something but I didn’t know if it were true. But now…you’re teaching Miguel?”

“Yes. Lucia comes to chaperone while Wilber is getting his extra lessons. Miguel comes with her.”

“Matilda, you were not hired by the school board to give Wilber extra work or to teach Miguel.”

“I don’t mind. Wilber’s making up lessons he’s missed because he helps his father. He’s so smart. I wish he could go to high school. He’d be a wonderful teacher.”