A Bride for McCain, page 14
“I don’t need this.”
When he started to leave, Jessica blocked his path. She sensed an edge of desperation and sadness in him.
“You wanted a teacher in Prosperity so badly because you want the children to have what you don’t.”
“I didn’t come here today to talk about this. I came here to invite you on a tour of the mines. Are you interested in a tour or not?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got work to do.”
McCain put his hat on his head. “Another day, then.”
“Sure.”
He pushed past her. “Good day.”
“A lot of men can’t read,” she said softly.
He stopped and took a deep breath. “I hate being at the mercy of men who can read. It eats at my gut every day.”
She didn’t believe her ears. McCain had admitted he couldn’t read.
A heavy silence hung between them. A ray of sunlight sliced across McCain’s face. She sensed the confession had struck a blow to his pride, and part of her wanted to comfort him. “You’ve done more in your life than most university scholars.”
“None of that matters.”
“It matters a great deal.”
He clenched his fist. “Did you ever stop to think that in six months Patrick will be reading and I won’t?”
“The boy loves you, Mr. McCain. He doesn’t care if you can’t read.”
“I care!”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sissy’s willing to try to learn. Are you?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s out of the question.”
“Why?”
“Boys go to school, not men.”
“I’ll teach you at home.”
“No.”
“I thought you were an honest man.”
“I am.”
“Then stop living a lie.”
He bore down on her, pinning her against the wall with his body. His breath was hot, his jaw tense as he stared into her eyes. “This is my own damn business.”
For just an instant, she saw past the anger and glimpsed the man behind the armor of pride. Ross McCain was afraid.
Instinctively, she reached up and touched his cheek. Despite the early morning shave, his cheek was rough with a fine layer of stubble.
As she stared into his eyes, burning with fire and ice, something primitive and carnal unfurled inside of her. He reached up, his callused thumb touching the tender flesh above her collarbone. Her eyes slid to his lips, and for an insane instant she wanted him to kiss her.
McCain seemed to sense her thoughts. Leaning forward, he touched his lips to hers. It was a bruising kiss, so unlike the gentle kiss they’d shared yesterday. Still, her body ignited. She laced her fingers through his hair and pulled herself into him.
All reasonable thought vanished from her mind. This was insane, and yes, heavenly.
The kiss softened. She sensed McCain’s anger melt as passion’s fires burned hotter.
“I can’t think when you touch me like this,” she murmured.
“Emma,” McCain breathed against her ear.
Emma. The name hammered in her brain as reality dawned, yanking Jessica from the dewy haze. She pulled back, pressing her fingers to her lips. Emma.
She’d just accused him of living a lie, yet here she was pretending to be someone she was not. She was a fool to have pushed him so. “I’m sorry for what I said a moment ago. You are right. Your life is not my business.”
He slid his hand down her arm. “Perhaps it should be.”
“No, I was wrong.”
His fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Let’s forget what we just said. I want to begin this afternoon again.”
The fire inside her began to cool. She shook her head and forced a wan smile. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” She looked down at his long tapered fingers gripping her forearm. “I really must be going.”
He didn’t release her. “What are you afraid of?”
She raised her trembling chin. “Nothing.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. “Looks like I’m not the only liar.”
Chapter Eleven
The sky was a vivid blue and the air crisp and clear. It was a perfect autumn day and the first day of school, Ross thought as he stared out the telegraph office window, watching his wife walk down the boardwalk into the mercantile.
She wore one of the dresses he’d bought for her—the brown one—but the gown no longer hung on her like a sack of flour. Instead, it hugged her curves and accentuated her full bosom and delicately rounded hips. The sight of her aroused him. He’d purposely chosen the ugliest dresses in the mercantile, expecting to hide her lush curves in the homespun fabric.
No doubt the alterations had to be Peg’s handiwork. The old bat must have stayed up all night to remake the dress. Likely she was cackling now over a bottle of her own home brew, thinking about how the sight of Emma tied every male in town—including himself—into knots.
Over the past two days, he’d barely seen Emma. She’d spent long hours at the schoolhouse and had taken her meals in her room, expertly staying out of his sight. He didn’t have to ask why. She was avoiding him. However, he’d not forced the issue. He’d been shaken by their kiss and he needed time to think.
“You want me to send any other telegrams to Sacramento, Mr. McCain?”
Ross turned away from the window toward Joey Dodd, the telegraph officer. Joey was a burly, bear-like creature with brown hair and a thick mustache.
“No, that’ll be it. Let me know as soon as you get a reply.”
“I’ll do it, sir.”
Ross walked to the door. “And do me a favor, Joey? Don’t tell anyone I’ve telegrammed Sacramento for more information about my wife.”
“I’ll take it to my grave, sir.”
“Good.”
The bell hanging on the door handle jingled as Ross opened the door and stepped into the bright sun. He rubbed his healing shoulder, working the stiffness out of the wounded muscle.
Part of him felt guilty about the telegram, but another, more battle-weary part demanded he know more about the woman who’d shaken his well-ordered world to the foundation.
Since Caroline had left him, he’d dallied with whores and willing widows. There’d only been lust. No promises. No tender words. No love. His dealings with women had been clean and simple—just the way he liked it.
He had focused on what he did best—making money. Long hours in the mines and shrewd investments in cattle and railroads had made him a very wealthy man.
Then Emma Grimes had come along and ruined everything. In five days she’d managed to tear through his defenses and shine a light into the darkest corners of his soul. If she only knew how much he wanted to take her up on her offer of reading lessons! But he couldn’t bring himself to accept.
Ross’s eyes narrowed as he watched Jed McManus escort Emma out of the mercantile toward the schoolhouse. Emma pushed back a curl from her face and laughed. The old man laughed with her. Ross scowled.
“Well, don’t you look like a lovesick fool.” Sam Jenkins limped forward and pushed his hat back on his head.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re staring at your wife like you’re a hungry dog and she’s a prime cut of meat.”
“I’ve never liked it when you can see inside my head. It sets my nerves on edge.”
Sam clamped his hand on Ross’s shoulder. “I remember when I first met my Sarah, God rest her soul. I was sweet on her from the moment I met her. I couldn’t have strung two thoughts together if you’d paid me.”
“I’m not sweet on her.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Could have fooled me.”
Ross expelled a breath and stabbed his fingers through his hair. He could count the number of people he trusted on one hand and still have three fingers to spare. Sam was one of the two.
“Sam, I haven’t felt this reckless since Caroline, and it scares the hell out of me.”
“That was ten years ago.”
“Maybe, but there are days when it feels like yesterday.”
“Some wounds are like that. Caroline treated you mighty bad.”
“And she’s dead and buried and I have remarried. I need to get on with my life.”
“Relax, you’ve finally started living again.”
Ross shook his head. “If this is what living feels like, I’d rather be dead.”
Sam slapped his hand on Ross’s shoulder. “What I wouldn’t give to have your problems. If I had a wife like yours—”
“Watch it.”
“I’d treat her like she was a fine piece of porcelain. If you only knew how lucky you are. I’d give anything to have my Sarah back. Life’s lonely and downright miserable without her.”
“You’ve got Davey,” Ross said softly.
Sam smiled slowly. “I love my boy, don’t you doubt it for a minute. But I’d like a woman in my life.”
“I’ve done all right where women are concerned.”
“I ain’t talking about that kind of need. I’m talking about sharing a life with a woman, not just a bed.”
Irritated, Ross studied the tip of his boot. “How am I supposed to do that when my wife resents the hell out of me?”
“Maybe you’re going to have to court her.”
Ross snorted. “A man doesn’t court his wife.”
Sam chuckled. “Are you married to her or married to her?”
Ross scowled. “That’s none of your business.”
“I thought so.”
“Haven’t you got something better to do? Isn’t there work to be done at the mine?”
“Nope, everything’s right peaceable today. Besides, I kinda like watching you twist in the wind.”
Ross shook his head. “How am I supposed to court Emma?”
Sam smacked him on the back. “That, my friend, is for you to decide.”
Ross shook his head. “I’ve had enough of this foolishness. It’s time I go get Patrick and take him to school.”
* * *
I can do this.
I am a teacher.
I can do this.
Butterflies fluttered in Jessica’s stomach as she stared out one of the schoolhouse windows. Sunlight streamed across the land, lighting the plains in a buttery yellow glow and touching the snowcapped mountains on the horizon.
She prayed the beautiful day was a good omen.
Eaten up with worry about the first day of school, she’d barely slept a full two hours last night. This was her classroom and she intended to give her best to the children. During the past two days, she’d polished the pine floorboards with beeswax and shoveled every last ash from the potbellied stove. Her muscles ached from the hard physical labor, but it didn’t matter.
For reasons she could not begin to explain, she wanted McCain to be proud of her work.
She hadn’t seen him since their meeting in the schoolhouse two days ago, but her mind had been filled with thoughts of his rugged features and the memory of his soft lips touching hers.
McCain had awakened desires she’d never known existed. Desire made her knees weak when she remembered their last meeting.
But as much as her heart yearned to explore her newfound desires, her mind refused to surrender her hard-won independence. She’d escaped William Perry, and she wasn’t about to turn her life over to a man who promised to be just as dominating.
Jessica stepped back from the window and stared at her reflection in the glass. She tucked a curl behind her ear and pinched her cheeks. She’d taken extra care to twist her unruly curls into a tight chignon this morning and had said a prayer of thanks when she realized Peg had taken in her dresses.
Turning, Jessica studied the benches and small tables arranged in a circle. She picked up a piece of chalk and crossed the room to the blackboard. In bold script she wrote “Welcome.” Then below it, “Miss Tierney.”
Jessica froze, her gaze riveted on her name. Still holding the chalk, she remained poised in front of the board. How could she make such a foolish mistake? Quickly, she picked up a rag and erased the board. Her heart beating wildly, she reluctantly spelled out “Mrs. McCain.”
“Mrs. McCain! Mrs. McCain!” The door to the room swung open and banged against the wall.
Jessica turned as Dan and Owen Nevers appeared in the entranceway. Her heart warmed at the sight of them. The boys wore matching white shirts, brown knickers and black boots. A twin set of smiles on freshly scrubbed faces greeted her as each gently swung his gray lunch pail at his side.
“Come in, boys. Welcome to school.”
“Thank you.” They stepped over the threshold and wiped the dirt from their shoes.
Sissy stood behind the boys with her three-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, nestled on her hip. “Miss Grimes, I know we are a bit early, but the boys were fit to be tied this morning. Both would’ve been up here an hour ago if I hadn’t stopped them.”
“It’s all right, I’m happy to have them. Welcome to school, Dan, Owen.”
Sissy set Elizabeth down beside her, then knelt in front of Owen to fasten the top button of his shirt. She licked the tip of her thumb and rubbed a smudge from his chin. “You listen to Miss Grimes now, you hear? Ain’t many boys your age who get the chance to better themselves like you. So you listen.”
Jessica patted the boy on the shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll both be fine.”
Sissy wiped a tear from her cheek. “They’re good boys and they’re smart. Earl and I are so grateful you and Mr. McCain are giving them this chance.”
“Mr. McCain is very dedicated to the children’s education,” Jessica said.
Sissy lowered her voice. “He didn’t seem too happy that you were teaching me.”
“Sometimes he just comes across as mad, but he’s not really,” Jessica lied.
“Well, he is your husband, so I guess you know him best.”
“He’s not my…” Jessica paused. “Never mind.”
Lydia Crumpet stepped through the front door. She had Abe on one hip and her older children, Billy and Susie, beside her. “And you’re lucky to have him. I never met a better man.”
Jessica ignored the comment. She helped Billy and Susie off with their coats. “Why don’t you two go find seats. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Mrs. Crumpet sniffed. “The best thing he ever did for you was marry you.”
Jessica blinked. “What?”
Sissy glanced at Mrs. Crumpet before she spoke. “We women held a little meeting. We didn’t mean to stick our nose in your business, but—”
“Stop pussyfooting around, Sissy,” Lydia barked. “The schoolteacher’s business is our business. If you’d married anyone other than Ross McCain, we would have lost another teacher.”
Jessica didn’t know whether to be flattered or angry. “It’s a shame Mr. McCain didn’t stop to ask me if I wanted to be married or not.”
“He’s a man who takes the bull by the horns,” Lydia said. “You gotta respect that.”
Jessica straightened. “I doubt it.”
Lydia snorted. “No disrespect, Mrs. McCain, but there will come a day when you’ll be glad you’ve made a home with Mr. McCain.” She shifted Abe to her other hip.
“Even Peg agrees you and Mr. McCain are a good match,” Sissy added. “Since you ain’t got no ma to teach you the ways of being a wife, the ladies in town are gonna help you.”
“The children’s education is more important to me than keeping Mr. McCain happy,” Jessica said.
Mrs. Crumpet chuckled. “Honey, you’re gonna find a man’s a lot easier to handle if he has a hot meal in his belly and a willing wife to warm his bed.”
“And don’t forget to throw a few flowery words his way once in a while. Men eat that up,” Sissy exclaimed.
Jessica stared at the two women. It was clear they had her best interests at heart. “Ladies, I can handle this myself.”
Mrs. Crumpet nodded. “Sure you can, dear, but a little help from interested friends can’t hurt.”
“It’s the least we can do,” Sissy added.
“Really, ladies, I don’t think—”
Mrs. Crumpet waved her hand impatiently. “Enough talk. You got a job to do and I got to get out of here before I start crying like a baby. Can’t hardly believe my young’uns have grown so big. Billy, Susie, I’ll see you at three o’clock.”
Sissy blew a kiss to Owen and Dan. “Be good, boys. You mind Miss Grimes.” She and Elizabeth left.
Other children and their parents arrived, and Jessica had no time to ponder what Sissy and Lydia had just told her. Within minutes the room was filled with lively jabbering and laughter.
“All right, children,” Jessica called, “let’s stop talking.”
No one responded. A book crashed against the ground as two children scribbled on the blackboard.
“This sure is a lot more fun than chopping wood!” one child shouted.
“Yeah, this is gonna be fun,” another answered.
Jessica’s excitement soured into frustration. She clapped her hands. “That’s enough, children.”
“Is it time to eat lunch?” Owen shouted.
Jessica took his lunch pail away from him. “No, it is not, and Susie, stop writing on the board. I want all of you to sit in your seats.”
The giggles grew louder and Jessica feared she’d never get the children under control. Then suddenly the room fell silent. A cold breeze touched the back of Jessica’s neck and she turned. McCain stood in the doorway with his hand resting on Patrick’s shoulder.
McCain smiled at her. Freshly shaved, he wore a crisp blue work shirt, fawn-colored trousers, an ankle-length gray coat and a wide-brimmed hat. Patrick’s overcoat hung open, revealing a red wool pullover shirt, gray cotton trousers and high-topped shoes. Jessica was struck by how handsome they both looked.
McCain pulled off his hat. “Having trouble, Mrs. McCain?”
She turned and glanced around the room. Each child sat silent, stone-faced. “No, I’d say we are ready to begin the day. Patrick, you can hang your coat on a peg by the door and put your lunch pail under your seat.”
Patrick shrugged off his coat. “Yes, ma’am.”
