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Frontier Engagement
Regina Scott


School Bells and Wedding Bells James Wallin's family is depending on him to find a schoolteacher for their frontier town. Alexandrina Fosgrave seems to be exactly what he needs to help fulfill his father's dream of building a new community. If only James could convince her to accept the position.Alexandrina has traveled west to seek a fresh start, not to find a groom. But after she's stranded in the wilderness with James, he offers her his hand in marriage to protect her reputation. Both are afraid to fall in love, but maybe an engagement of convenience could make them reconsider…Frontier Bachelors: Bold, rugged–and bound to be grooms.







School Bells and Wedding Bells

James Wallin’s family is depending on him to find a schoolteacher for their frontier town. Alexandrina Fosgrave seems to be exactly what he needs to help fulfill his father’s dream of building a new community. If only James could convince her to accept the position.

Alexandrina has traveled west to seek a fresh start, not to find a groom. But after she’s stranded in the wilderness with James, he offers her his hand in marriage to protect her reputation. Both are afraid to fall in love, but maybe an engagement of convenience could make them reconsider…

Frontier Bachelors: Bold, rugged—and bound to be grooms.


“You don’t have to be lonely, Rina,” James said. “If you need someone to listen, a shoulder to cry on, you can always come to me.”

She frowned, glancing back at him. “How can you make that promise to someone you barely know?”

She seemed sincerely confused, her honey-colored brows drawn down, her pert nose pulled up. He supposed it was a sweeping statement. But he’d made it, and he meant it, and he wasn’t sure why she was so determined to doubt him.

“That’s how friends behave,” he said.

“And you consider us friends?” she asked, frown deepening.

With her looking all soft and serious, friendship seemed the least of what he wanted. “I certainly hope we’re not enemies, ma’am.”

Still she watched him, as if waiting for something more. He felt himself slipping into those clear eyes. Then he was leaning closer, and she was leaning toward him. It was only natural for their lips to meet, brush.

He pulled her close, anchoring himself in her touch, wanting never to let go.

She pulled back and stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

Not only had he found a way to convince the schoolmarm to stay in the wilderness, but he’d managed to let her wedge her way into his heart.


REGINA SCOTT has always wanted to be a writer. Since her first book was published in 1998, her stories have traveled the globe, with translations in many languages. Fascinated by history, she learned to fence and sail a tall ship. She and her husband reside in Washington state with their overactive Irish terrier. You can find her online blogging at nineteenteen.com (http://www.nineteenteen.com). Learn more about her at reginascott.com (http://www.reginascott.com) or connect with her on Facebook at facebook.com/authorreginascott (https://facebook.com/authorreginascott).


Frontier Engagement

Regina Scott






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

—Proverbs 31:30–31







To my nieces Sarah and Linda—

no Dr. Who and no dogs and cats,

but all my love just the same; and to the Lord,

who loves me no matter who I am today.


Contents

Cover (#u70c18a54-22d2-5e31-8406-97cfa0ed93a6)

Back Cover Text (#u8c5eb95f-f733-59ad-9613-c48f5f4efa0d)

Introduction (#u6f1f6a3a-6f11-510f-aa19-26beb9380958)

About the Author (#u7c69b1ec-24f5-5642-a0ff-41a866f3e453)

Title Page (#u938971cf-42ab-5dc4-b3ee-dfbc2a1493e4)

Bible Verse (#u0657941a-5c49-5dfe-b196-6612ec11d42c)

Dedication (#u62dced02-4708-5367-951e-501b47edaec7)

Chapter One (#ue0c9758e-7300-5497-98c1-764aa63b07ff)

Chapter Two (#uc3f6c5cb-9016-5192-805e-a8f4a3fae9d8)

Chapter Three (#u55d07071-8c6d-5cdb-9132-2529cc68782f)

Chapter Four (#uc3500e82-74fc-58fa-9adb-d064e055687a)

Chapter Five (#u44d323db-e440-553b-a13e-0d1c0b601430)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_38db0c7d-fc92-5bf7-8632-883dee9d61cb)

Seattle, Washington Territory June 1866

Alexandrina Eugenia Fosgrave clasped her hands tightly together, one up, one down, as she walked along the carpeted corridor of the boardinghouse for the formal parlor. Though her white organza gown floated about her slippers like a cloud, her heart was hammering against her ribs and her legs felt rubbery. None of that now! She was not going to let her nerves affect the outcome of this interview.

A gentleman wished to hire a schoolteacher, the girl who had come for her had said. He’d already spoken to two others and rejected them out of hand, even though he had few choices. Alexandrina was one of the last teachers among the Mercer expedition who had yet to be whisked away to the wilderness since their arrival in Seattle nearly two months ago.

She knew why the women who had traveled with her from the East Coast had been hired first. They had more experience and stellar references. She had only the written word of the sheriff near Framingham, Massachusetts, that she was of good character, a statement grudgingly given. She was fairly certain he had wished he could have locked her up as easily as he had the other members of the Fosgrave family.

But lacking a position, her financial situation grew more dire each day. She very much feared that she might be forced out into that wilderness, not as the teacher she’d hoped to become, but as a penniless waif.

Please, Lord, let this job be mine! You have been with me through it all. You’re the only one I can rely on.

She paused outside the closed door of the parlor and drew in a deep breath. Mrs. Elliott’s pristine boardinghouse always smelled of roses, the scent matching the pink papered walls and flowered carpeting. It was a suitable lodging for ladies, but she doubted a gentleman would appreciate it.

She tried to imagine the gentleman waiting for her beyond the door now. He’d be an older man, established in his profession, the head of his community. He’d ask about her skills, her experience, her eagerness to mold young minds, the values her family had instilled in her. She’d have to be both honest and circumspect in her answers, for her skills were untested, her experience nonexistent and her eagerness waning with each rejection.

And as for her family, the less said the better.

At least her past had prepared her to exude a certain presence. She felt it slipping over her now. Her head came up, her breath evened out and one hand slipped to her side as she reached for the iron doorknob with the other. She knew every honey-colored hair was in place, her hazel eyes bright and confident even though she quaked inside. She allowed herself a pleasant smile as she walked into the parlor.

And then she very nearly missed her step.

Standing by the cold hearth was a fine figure of a man, tall, lean, with straight golden-brown hair neatly trimmed to the collar of his brown wool suit coat. His broad shoulders were damp with rain, as if he’d ridden far.

But he couldn’t be the head of his community. He looked only a year or two older than her two and twenty years. And other than the warm color of his skin, he didn’t appear as if he lived out in the wilderness and worked out of doors. Those men came to town in flannel shirts, rough trousers and thick-soled boots. With his tailored suit, elegantly patterned waistcoat and bow tie at his throat, he was easily the best-dressed man she’d seen here.

But the man she’d called father had cut a fine figure as well, and look what a scoundrel he’d turned out to be.

Hat in hands that looked strong enough to wield an ax, he nodded a greeting. “Miss Fosgrave, thank you for meeting with me.”

She nodded, as well. He made no move to sit, and she wasn’t sure whether he expected her to perch on one of the hard-backed wooden chairs that dotted the space. With its single shuttered window overlooking Puget Sound, Mrs. Elliott’s parlor resembled a meeting room more than a retreat.

As if he meant to set her at her ease, he offered her a smile. It broadened his lean face, lit his eyes and caused her quaking to cease. Yet something told her he knew exactly how potent that smile could be.

“I came to Seattle on a mission, Miss Fosgrave,” he explained. “We’re about to open a new school in our area, and we have very high expectations for our teacher.”

That was more like it. Every school that had requested a teacher had also sent a list of expectations. She’d rehearsed how to respond. “I was tutored in mathematics, science, geography, history and literature,” she told him. “And I’m fluent in two other languages besides English.”

“Excellent, excellent,” he said, giving his hat a twirl as if he couldn’t contain his delight at her answer. “What we really need is a teacher who is refined, polished and poised. I think you’ll do nicely.”

His gaze swept from her toes to her top, and she felt her blush growing along with his smile. She’d attempted to impress, but how could he know she was the right one for the job just by looking at her? She realized her recent experiences had made her too prone to suspicion, but she could not shake the feeling that there was more here than met the eye.

“You will want to see my credentials,” she said.

“Certainly,” he agreed. “But I have complete confidence in you.”

Arguing with him was like refusing a gift, but she couldn’t accept such an offer without questioning it. She’d seen too many people hurt by blind faith.

“Why would you have confidence in me?” she asked with a frown. “You have no proof of my skills, training or experience.”

He blinked. “I know you have sufficient training—you told me so yourself, and Mr. Mercer would not have listed you as a candidate if you did not meet my criteria. He recommended you in glowing terms.”

He obviously had a much higher opinion of the head of their expedition than she did. She’d grasped Asa Mercer’s lifeline of an offer to travel around the continent to Seattle and teach, but the trip had proved to her that the fellow was too shrewd in his dealings. He had accepted money from a number of men to bring them brides, but he hadn’t told the women someone had helped pay their passage or why. There was mounting evidence that he’d sold some of the women’s belongings without their permission so he could pay for unexpected costs for travel. This man’s connection to Seattle’s so-called emigration agent only raised her concerns.

“How much did you pay Mr. Mercer for that recommendation?” she demanded.

His brows shot up. “Nothing, ma’am. He was happy to oblige an upstanding fellow like myself.”

An upstanding fellow he might be, but she smelled deceit. “If you are one of those men who paid Mr. Mercer to bring him a bride, you can leave right now,” she informed him.

That look was all innocence. “A bride, ma’am? I assure you, I’m here for a schoolteacher.”

Alexandrina shook her head. “I know your game. You intend to carry off some unsuspecting lady with promises. By the time she realizes the error of her ways, her reputation will be compromised and she’ll be forced to marry you. You should be ashamed of yourself for offering false promises to those in need! I will go nowhere with you and neither will any of the ladies in this house.”

She thought he might back away, offer apologies. Certainly men had scrambled to oblige when the woman she’d known as Mother had used such a tone. Instead, his reaction to her set down proved his determination. He approached her and took one of her hands in his, holding it reverently and gazing at her beseechingly. He had the eyes of the deepest blue. They pulled her closer more surely than his grip.

“Miss Fosgrave, please don’t dismiss my offer,” he urged. “Nothing I said was false. We need someone of your intelligence and sophistication to bring culture to our youth. Who else but a lady of your refinement could adequately guide them into the future?”

As fulsome compliments went, his weren’t bad and neither was the earnestness of his manner. Under other circumstances, her resolve might have even wavered. But he couldn’t know that she’d heard far better from veteran charlatans who had pulled the wool over the eyes of hundreds of townspeople. His considerable charm paled in comparison.

She drew back. “Unless you have someone to vouch for your purpose, sir, I must ask you to leave.”

He frowned as if he wasn’t used to being refused. A gamin-like grin, a well-worded tease and copious amounts of compliments had probably won the day for him more times than he could count. But he would find she was made of stronger stuff.

“Do you know Miss Madeleine O’Rourke?” he asked.

Now Alexandrina frowned. “Yes. We share a room.”

His brow cleared. “Then she can vouch for me.” He grabbed her hand again and attempted to tug her toward the door.

She dug in her feet, the soles of her slippers dragging against the carpet. “Release me this instant!”

He complied immediately. “Forgive me, ma’am.” He nodded toward the door. “It’s just that Miss O’Rourke was out on the porch when I arrived.”

Did he think her so dim that she’d venture out of doors with him? “How very convenient. We must ask her back inside.”

“If you wish.” He clapped his hat on his head and strode out of the room for the front door. She followed cautiously. She let him open the door and step out onto the wide front porch, where wooden chairs sat sheltered from a misty rain. Sure enough, the redheaded Maddie was leaning against one of the porch supports, looking out toward a waiting wagon. Yet it wasn’t her friend but the team of black horses on the street that drew Alexandrina’s gaze.

“Oh, what beauties!” Just as the man beside her was one of the most prepossessing gentlemen in Seattle, his team was one of the best she’d ever seen. Those strong haunches, those alert ears, all those fine lines. She hadn’t seen their like since the sheriff had confiscated her team. Before she knew it, she was out on the porch.

“Do you race them?” she asked the man beside her.

He cocked his head as if he could not have heard her correctly, and too late she realized prim and proper schoolteachers should not know about racing horses. But he merely straightened and adjusted his bow tie. “Certainly not. I’m a serious horseman.”

That she could not believe. Even now she could see the gleam in those deep blue eyes, daring her to laugh with him. Going back inside was no doubt her best option short of ordering him out of her sight.

But she’d challenged his word, and the least she could do was follow through. She turned to her irrepressible roommate. “Do you know this man, Miss O’Rourke?”

Alexandrina had met Maddie O’Rourke aboard ship. Her short stature belied the force of her personality. Alexandrina might have had cause to doubt many people, including herself, but experience had taught her that Maddie would always speak her mind.

The Irishwoman pushed away from the porch support now with a nod. “I’ve had the misfortune of meeting him,” she said, brown eyes twinkling over her russet gown. “This rogue is James Wallin, brother to the man who wed our dear Catherine.”

Oh, no. Alexandrina had attended Catherine Stanway’s wedding, but she’d sat at the back to allow closer friends to sit near the bride. She hadn’t paid much attention to the men who’d ranged alongside the groom, but she’d heard from several of her traveling companions that they’d been an impressive group. If this man had been one of them, she had indeed misjudged him and cost herself a position in the process. She’d destroyed her future by focusing on her past. She wanted to sink into the rough boards of the porch.

Yet James Wallin seemed to bear her no grudge. He went so far as to bow to her as if they had been introduced at a formal ball. “Miss Fosgrave, a pleasure.”

She nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “Mr. Wallin. Forgive me for doubting you. I truly did suspect you were here for a bride.”

“And how could you not?” Maddie asked with a tsk. “Mr. Mercer must have collected bride prices from more than a dozen men, all of whom have had call to visit. But you needn’t worry about James here. Catherine tells me he’s a sworn bachelor.”

She could only feel relief at that statement. Unlike some of the women who had journeyed west on the good ship Continental, she hadn’t planned to marry. So many of the things she’d grown up believing had proved false, yet she still felt that marriage meant two people giving themselves to each other. They shared dreams, hopes, feelings. They benefited from the association. They became one. She wasn’t sure she could ever trust another person to that extent again. At times, she didn’t even trust her own judgments.

“I hope you’ll hear me out now, ma’am,” James Wallin said, standing taller as if about to address a congregation. “We really do need a teacher. And I believe we have a great deal to offer—a new schoolhouse that can seat as many as thirty students. A large room to yourself. A salary of forty-five dollars per quarter. All the wood you could want, chopped and stacked just outside your door, with a spring an easy walk away for water. Plus a tithe of the produce raised within a two-mile radius.”

Bounty indeed. She knew women who’d left Seattle for promises half as great. Some of the women back East had been earning no more than thirty dollars a quarter and lucky to have board with a local farming family.

“How many students now?” she asked, heart starting to pound hard again with hope.

“Just a few,” he admitted, “but more and more folks are settling out our way. The school will only grow.”

Just like her dreams. This was exactly the sort of situation she’d promised herself when she’d left Framingham. She’d find some place she could make something good out of the tatters of her life, where she could make a difference.

“They’re a lovely family,” Maddie put in. “Sure-n you won’t be sorry to help them. I’d be happy to take the position, only I’ve no experience, and I wouldn’t want all the children to learn to speak like me.”

James Wallin spread his hands. “And what would be wrong with the way you’re a-speaking, me darling girl?”

She laughed at the way he’d mimicked her brogue. “You’ve just proven my point.”

How easily they chatted. She wanted a life like that. Somewhere there must be people who would laugh with her, talk to her as if she was one of them, families she could help, young minds she could challenge to think.

You give beauty for ashes and joy for mourning, Lord. Help me to see this as an opportunity.

But try as she might, doubts circled her like ravens. What if the Wallins didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like them? What if they saw right through her to the scared little mouse inside?

What if he wasn’t telling the truth?

She drew in a breath. A good offer had two sides. Mr. Wallin had stated his requirements. She had every right to state her own.

“I would prefer to visit the school first,” she informed him. “I expect to be interviewed properly and hired by those who will have children in the school.”

He nodded. “Anything you want.”

Anything? That she could not believe. “And if I decide that the position and I do not suit, you will return me to Seattle immediately.”

He spread his hands even as his smile widened. “If you decide you don’t want the best schoolhouse and most dedicated students in the territory, ma’am, I’ll personally escort you wherever you want to go, at my own expense. That’s a promise.”

He said it so firmly, as if he expected her to take him at his word. And she realized if she truly wanted this position, her only choice was to do just that.

At least for the moment.

She held out her hand. “Very well, Mr. Wallin. I will go with you.”

* * *

She’d agreed to come, if only to look at the place. James wasn’t sure why he was so relieved when Miss Fosgrave gave him her hand in pledge. Yet one look at that solemn face, and he wanted to dance around his team and crow for joy.

Which would likely have frightened both his team and Miss Fosgrave.

So, he merely clasped her hand and gave it a shake. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll wait while you pack.”

She pulled away quickly, as she’d done the other times he’d touched her hand, which was a shame. She had soft, warm skin and a gentle grip that felt good in his.

In fact, she was the prettiest schoolmarm it had been his privilege to know. Her figure in that soft, white dress was admirable. Her hair was a warm sunny brown, combed back from a face that could only be called sweet. The eyes gazing at him from less than six inches below his own were liberally lashed, clear and open and a whimsical color that wasn’t quite brown and wasn’t really green but made him want to lean closer.

And presence? Oh, but she had that. She moved like a dancer he’d seen at one of Mr. Yesler’s cultural events—fluid and controlled at the same time. She spoke with an authority even the renowned Reverend Bagley would have envied. She was poised, she was polished, and she was exactly the sort of teacher they needed. And he’d managed to convince her to come to Wallin Landing.

Even as his chest swelled with pride, she took a step back as if already regretting her decision. “Pack? Nonsense. I cannot possibly be ready on such short notice.”

“We’ve only the things we brought with us on the ship,” Maddie pointed out. James had nearly forgotten she was there, so focused had he been on Miss Fosgrave. “It can’t take all that long to pack. I’ll lend a hand if you like.”

“No,” she said, then quickly softened the word with “thank you. I prefer to pack my own things.”

She certainly knew her own mind. Very likely that had been a requisite for joining the Mercer expedition. It couldn’t have been easy traveling all the way around the country and starting over. He was willing to grant her anything, so long as she came.

James glanced at the sky, where the sun was trying to burn through the remaining clouds. “I’ve a few commissions to complete while I’m in town, but I’ll need to start back in the next hour or so to reach home before dark. Will that give you enough time?”

“I suppose it must suffice,” she said. “I shall endeavor to be ready when you return, Mr. Wallin.” She inclined her head and turned to precede them through the door with ladylike tread.

Maddie, who had been watching Miss Fosgrave, shook her head. “Sure-n she has finer manners than the queen of England. But sometimes, if you catch her unawares, she’ll be having the saddest look in her eyes. Someone’s hurt her, that’s certain sure.” She shook a finger at James. “Don’t you be going and adding to her troubles.”

James held up his hands. “Me? I wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“A fly, maybe,” Maddie acknowledged. “But I’m thinking you’ve broken a few hearts in your time.”

“Not intentionally,” he assured her, lowering his hands. “I’ve never promised undying devotion to any woman.”

“Yet,” Maddie said with her usual twinkle.

“Ever,” James corrected her. “Life can change in a heartbeat, Maddie. Best not to take it too seriously.”

“So you say,” Maddie replied, heading for the door. “But I say you’ll be changing your tune for the right woman, James Wallin.”

James shook his head as she left. He’d liked Maddie from the first moment he’d met her at Catherine’s marriage to his oldest brother Drew. The feisty redhead generally gave as good as she got. Like him, she’d laughed off Catherine and Drew’s threat to match them all up with sweethearts.

Oh, he knew most men reached a point in their lives where marriage seemed the best course. But those men hadn’t watched their father die. He’d seen the light fade from Pa’s eyes, and then he’d seen the pain flare in Ma’s when Drew had delivered the news. And he’d known it was all his fault.

That was why he’d jumped at the chance to do his family a service when Catherine had entrusted him with this commission. His sister-in-law had been firm in her expectations.

“The women of the Mercer expedition are a determined lot,” the lovely blonde had explained over coffee that morning at the main house of Wallin Landing, the forested area to the north end of Lake Union where James’s family had staked their claims. “Many of them have already secured positions, and the remaining ones may balk at settling so far out.”

“Fear not, fair maiden,” James had assured her. “I will overcome every objection.”

Catherine’s cool blue eyes could look remarkably warm when she was set on a goal. “See that you do and that you don’t raise any reason to object in the first place. We must have a schoolteacher if we’re to achieve your father’s dream.”

James had nodded. Ever since marrying Drew a month ago, Catherine had been obsessed with honoring Pa’s dream of building his own town along the lakeshore. James wasn’t sure why she was so determined. She had never met Pa; he’d been dead more than ten years now.

His father’s accident—felled by a widow-maker from a tree they were clearing—had affected everyone in the family. James was fairly sure Drew’s overprotective nature stemmed from the fact that Pa had entrusted the family to his care. And sometimes he wondered whether the cool detachment of his next oldest brother, Simon, wasn’t a result of watching Pa die. He was glad neither had berated him for his role in the tragedy. He’d been only fourteen at the time, and it had been his job to look out for potential problems. He hadn’t noticed the loose branch then, but he could see problems aplenty with the town they were trying to build.

Catherine, Drew and Simon knew the challenge, but they were undaunted. They’d drawn up plots, laying out the streets and placing key buildings. Drew had wanted to construct a hospital first because many people needed Catherine’s skills as a nurse, but she’d insisted that the school was more important.

“A hospital tends their bodies for the moment,” she’d said. “A school tends their minds for the future.”

None of them could argue with that. Even now his family, including his younger brothers John and Levi, were back putting the finishing touches on a schoolhouse and attached room for the teacher.

And it was James’s job to convince a teacher to fill it.

He took that commission as seriously as Miss Fosgrave apparently took her profession. This was his chance to make a difference in the family. Nothing would bring Pa back, but building the town he’d always dreamed of was the next best thing. And it had been a long time since his family has asked him to undertake something so important.

So, James had done all he could to make a good impression on the schoolteacher. He’d dressed in his best suit, tailored by a fellow from San Francisco no less. He’d shaved and washed his hair with the lavender-scented soap his sister Beth enthused about, making his hair look almost gold. More than one lady had glanced his way as he’d driven first to the territorial university to consult with Asa Mercer, its president, and then to the boardinghouse.

But who would have thought his horses would be the thing to convince Miss Fosgrave to take a chance on him? He’d seen the way she’d looked at the team, as if they were somehow an answer to a prayer.

“Always said you boys were the finest animals in the territory,” he told them as they turned the corner for the merchant his mother favored. The flick of their ears and the height of their steps told him they agreed.

But as he finished his commissions in town—picking up a paper of needles for Ma and a new sketchpad for Beth, checking at the post office for any mail—he felt unaccountably fidgety. Did he doubt the outcome of his task? He might not have Drew’s brawn, Simon’s brain, John’s knowledge or Levi’s determination, but he knew how to turn a phrase to his will.

That’s one skill You gave me, Lord. The least I can do is to put it to good use. You’ve given me a chance to atone. I won’t let You down.

He took a deep breath as he guided the horses back toward the boardinghouse. Miss Fosgrave might have reservations about the position, but he had none about her. Her presence was her best quality. It would win the day at the school Catherine had planned. So, like it or not, that schoolmarm had an engagement with the frontier.

She just didn’t know it yet.


Chapter Two (#ulink_ba0c006f-d7a4-573b-bd4c-d99eb6f3f845)

She was waiting on the porch with several other ladies when James drew the horses to a stop in front of the boardinghouse. Despite the fact that she had said she would only come to visit, standing beside her was a trunk that would all but fill the bed of his wagon. James tried not to cringe.

She’d also changed clothes for the journey. This gown was purple, the bodice fitted to her form, with bands of white satin sculpting the collar, shoulders and waist. Triple bands of the stuff followed the curves of her wide skirts. A straw bonnet with velvet ribbons covered her shiny curls. How could his family possibly find fault?

Determined to match her formality, he wiped the smile from his face, stepped down from the bench and marched up the walk. Stopping at the edge of the porch, he tipped his hat.

“Ladies.”

She stepped forward. “Mr. Wallin. Shall we?”

The others were watching her so solemnly he might have been Death come to take her on her final journey. He offered his arm. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Fosgrave.”

He thought he heard a sigh of envy from one of the other ladies.

If Miss Fosgrave heard it, she gave no indication. She merely accepted his arm, her touch light and sure. James walked her to the wagon as if escorting her to a dance. He couldn’t deny there was something fine about strolling beside a lady in all her glory. His brothers might tease him unmercifully about his liking for fine clothing, calling him a dandy and far too citified, but he’d always appreciated the sheen of satin, the brush of fine wool. Women weren’t the only ones who sometimes had a hankering to look good.

But looking good came at a price on the frontier, and he spied the problem with Miss Fosgrave’s pretty gown the moment they reached the wagon. She couldn’t possibly climb up onto the bench in those skirts. When she paused with a frown as if realizing the issue, he bent and scooped her up in his arms.

Her eyes, now on a level with his, were as clear as spring water. They widened as she cried, “Really, Mr. Wallin! What are you doing?”

“Just my duty, ma’am,” he promised, setting her up into the bench.

Face turning pink, she arranged her skirts around her. “A little warning would have been preferable.”

He leaned against the wagon and grinned up at her. “Very well. I promise to warn you the next time I feel an urge to take you up in my arms.”

The blush deepened, and she faced forward rather than look at him. “A warning that will end any such thoughts, I trust. Now, if you’d be so good as to fetch my trunk.”

“Please?” he suggested.

Her mouth tightened. “Please.”

James pushed off from the wagon and swept her a bow. “At once, your royal highness.”

Her look speared back to him. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that.”

Why had he thought her eyes as cool and refreshing as clean water? Now they positively boiled with emotions. What had he done to earn her wrath?

James kept his own face still, determined not to give her any reason to change her mind. “Forgive me, ma’am. I meant no offense. Wait here, and I’ll get your things.”

As he ventured back to the house, he shook his head. Why had she reacted that way to a simple tease? Did she think he was laughing at her expense? Nothing could be further from the truth. He’d only been trying to make her smile. It was obvious he’d have to work much harder to stay in her good graces. He nodded to the ladies still watching from the porch and put his hand to the trunk.

One tug, and he nearly groaned aloud. What had she packed—enough bricks to build a house? With the other ladies standing there, and her waiting on the bench, he wasn’t about to admit it was too heavy. He seized the leather handle at either end and heaved it up into his arms. One of the ladies gave an “ooo” of appreciation at his demonstration of strength. It was all he could do not to stagger down the walk.

Miss Fosgrave didn’t so much as look his way as he brought the trunk and shoved it into the bed of the wagon. Sweat trickled down his cheek as he made his way to the front once more.

“All set,” he said, knowing a longer statement would likely come out breathless. He took up the reins and climbed onto the bench.

“Good luck, Alexandrina!” one of the women called, and they all waved or fluttered handkerchiefs as if she were taking off on a grand journey.

He could only hope the end of the trip would be more auspicious than the beginning and his family would find her as perfect as James did.

* * *

Alexandrina sat beside James Wallin, heartbeat slowly returning to normal. She hadn’t expected such a reaction, but then she’d never been held like that before. None of the men who had showed interest in her would have dared put an arm about her for fear of offending her family. One did not mistreat Princess Alexandrina Eugenia Fosgrave of Battenburgia.

“Though of course we do not use our titles here,” Mr. Fosgrave would always confide to the rapt listener in a hushed tone. “Our enemies are everywhere. But when we have been returned to our kingdom, you will be well rewarded for your kindness.”

It had been a potent promise, recalling days of pomp and circumstance that made the average American surprisingly sentimental. So everyone had treated her with kindness, deference, humility. Until the truth had come out. And there had been nothing kind in it.

“Alexandrina,” James said, guiding his magnificent horses up a muddy, rutted trail that hardly did them justice. “That’s an unusual name. Does it run in your family?”

She couldn’t tell him the fiction she’d grown up hearing, that it had been her great-grandmother’s name. “I don’t believe so. I’m not overly fond of it.”

He nodded as if he accepted that. “Then why not shorten it? You could go by Alex.”

She sniffed, ducking away from an encroaching branch on one of the towering firs that grew everywhere around Seattle. “Certainly not. Alex is far too masculine.”

The branch swept his shoulder, sending a fresh shower of drops to darken the brown wool. “Ann, then.”

She shook her head. “Too simple.”

“Rina?” He glanced her way and smiled.

Yes, he definitely knew the power of that smile. She could learn to love it. No, no, not love it. She was not here to fall in love but to teach impressionable minds. And a smile did not make the man. She must look to character, convictions.

“Rina,” she said testing the name on her tongue. She felt a smile forming. It had a nice sound to it, short, uncompromising. It fit the way she wanted to feel—certain of herself and her future. “I like it.”

He shook his head. “And you blame me for failing to warn you. You should have warned me, ma’am.”

Rina—yes, she was going to think of herself that way—felt her smile slipping. “Forgive me, Mr. Wallin. What have I done that would require a warning?”

“Your smile,” he said with another shake of his head. “It could make a man go all weak at the knees.”

His teasing nearly had the same effect, and she was afraid that was his intention. He seemed determined to make her like him, as if afraid she’d run back to Seattle otherwise. She refused to tell him she’d accepted his offer more from desperation than a desire to know him better. And she certainly had no intention of succumbing to his charm.

She clasped her hands together in her lap, one up, one down, fingers overlapping, and made herself look out over the horses. Sunlight through the trees dappled their black coats with gold.

“Nonsense,” she said. “What about you? Why were you named James?”

“It’s from the Bible,” he said, shifting in his seat as one of the wheels hit a bump. His shoulder brushed hers, solid, strong. “Pa named us for the first apostles: Andrew, Simon, Levi, John and James. I suspect you’ll like my brother John. He reads a lot.”

He glanced her way as if expecting agreement. Most likely he thought she read a great deal as a schoolteacher. That had been true once. She’d loved reading stories of kings and queens and gallant knights, imagining they were like her own life. A shame their stories had proved more real than the one she’d lived.

“Reading is important,” she acknowledged. “But putting what we read into practice is even more so.”

He laughed. It came so easily, freely. She wasn’t sure she’d ever laughed like that.

“Now that would depend on what you read, ma’am,” he told her. “Pa left us epic poems and adventure novels. I’m not sure how well we’ve put those lessons into practice.”

“Well,” Rina pointed out, “you do live in the wilderness. That is considered romantic in some circles.”

“No circle I belong to.” He swatted at a branch that hung over the track. “But at least Wallin Landing is becoming more civilized all the time. We have four cabins, a good-sized barn and the schoolhouse. Next is Catherine’s dispensary. Before you know it, we’ll have a town.”

A town. There was something fine about the idea of building for the future. But was it any more real than the stories Mr. and Mrs. Fosgrave had told?

The pattern had always been the same. The three of them would journey to a new town and seclude themselves, careful to hide the horses and carriage somewhere for easy access. This practice was for their safety, the woman she’d called mother had insisted, lovely blue eyes tearing up at the supposed memories. And Rina had learned not to ask too many questions about the past, for it had always upset the dear lady.

But somehow the story would slip out—how her father and mother had been deposed by a cruel tyrant, how even now their loyal subjects were massing to retake the throne. Bankers would extend credit, expecting to be repaid in gold. Society hostesses would vie with each other to fete them. The horses and carriage would come out of hiding, perhaps even join in a few races for which her father would be handsomely paid. Life would be wonderful, until her father would wake her in the night with news that they were no longer safe. And then away they’d go again.

She’d been as shocked as the inhabitants of the last town, Framingham, Massachusetts, when the Fosgraves had been unmasked. Someone had finally questioned her father’s web of lies and discovered that there was no kingdom of Battenburgia, no king and queen with subjects eager to reinstate them, certainly no princess waiting for her prince to arrive. The reality was a long series of debts run up by two charlatans with no intention of ever paying anything back.

She’d been fortunate not to have been indicted with them.

“Don’t blame Alexandrina,” Mrs. Fosgrave had said from the stand the day the judge had pronounced sentence, those blue eyes brimming with tears. “She never knew the truth. She isn’t even our daughter. We found her abandoned when she was about two, and we thought she’d make a nice addition to the story.” Her gaze had pleaded with Rina for understanding. “We did become fond of her.”

Rina’s hands were fisting in her lap now just remembering the moments before the judge had sent the Fosgraves away to prison, allowing her to go with no more than an order not to follow in their footsteps. No one in Framingham had been willing to befriend her. Her darling horses had been sold to help pay the debts.

She’d managed to convince the judge to let her sell most of her clothing for living expenses rather than to pay off the Fosgraves’s debts. The only other things she’d kept were Mr. Fosgrave’s pocket watch and a miniature of the three of them, buried safely in her trunk. When she’d seen the advertisement in the paper about Asa Mercer’s expedition to bring schoolteachers to Seattle, she’d known what she must do.

She might not be a princess, but she’d been raised with the education of one—having been tutored in every town by the very best instructors. Her education was the one thing they could not take from her. It was the one thing she could give to someone else.

She forced her fingers apart and pressed her hands into the smooth fabric of her gown. Everything she had believed had been a lie. That didn’t mean she couldn’t believe in something else, even if she hesitated to believe in someone else.

James Wallin was the perfect example of someone she should suspect of telling tales for his own profit. He was confident, and he was glib. He was relaxed behind the reins, as if nothing and no one could shake him. Didn’t he realize that they were driving farther from the safety of Seattle every second? Shouldn’t he be looking for catamounts, bears, savages? Was he even armed?

Catching her watching him, he grinned again, and despite all her thoughts, something inside her danced. Dangerous fellow. She refused to be taken in.

“Tell me about Wallin Landing,” she said. “What prompted you to start a school?”

“It was Catherine’s idea,” he said. “You’d have to ask her.”

A vague answer, but she supposed he might only be the messenger. He certainly talked as easily as he laughed, going on to tell her all about his widowed mother, four brothers and sister, the addition of Catherine to their group. But what impressed her more than his easy manner was his skill behind the reins.

Her father had taught her to drive early, on a lark, he’d said. Now she could only wonder whether he had been preparing her to help make a quick escape if needed. Either way, she’d learned to love the feel of the reins in her grip, knowing that all the power of the team was hers to control.

Sitting beside other gentlemen who pulled on the leather and sawed at the bits had been painful in the extreme. James Wallin gave the horses their heads, only correcting them if they strayed too far from the path. He guided them effortlessly, as if from long practice. And he seemed to trust them as she’d trusted her team.

“I haven’t seen many steeldusts in Seattle,” she ventured at one point.

“Steeldusts?” He gazed at his team. “Is that what they are?”

She’d never met a man who didn’t know the sort of horse he owned. Her father had examined every aspect, from the size of their ears to the conformation of their hindquarters. He’d known breed and lineage, could gauge strength and stamina. Or at least so he’d claimed.

“I believe that’s the name given them in Texas,” she said, suddenly doubting. Had her father made up the name like he had everything else? Maybe she didn’t know as much about horses as she thought. “I heard they are prized by cattlemen.”

“Well, I’m hardly a rancher,” James said with a laugh. “My family prefers oxen. I’d ridden with friends from time to time, but these are my first horses. I bought them off a fellow in town who was giving up his stake. They had a certain dash.”

She smiled. “Oh, they have dash, all right. See those high haunches? All power. A steeldust can run a quarter mile on good track in a few seconds.”

He glanced her way. “You seem to know a lot about horses.”

His tone was admiring, but her stomach sank. When would she learn? She had to guard every word now, not to protect a so-called family secret but to prevent being tarred by it. “My...family owned a team much like yours,” she told him. “They raced a few times. Not that I condone the practice.”

“We can’t control our families,” he assured her as if he knew firsthand. “Though that doesn’t keep us from trying.”

Her breath came easier. He wasn’t going to press her for details. “What are your team’s names?” she asked.

To her surprise, he glanced ahead as if to estimate the distance to their destination. When he spoke, he lowered his voice. Did he fear the trees would overhear him?

“The fellow who sold them to me didn’t think much of naming horses,” he said, gaze more serious than she’d seen. “Neither do my brothers. Drew says you don’t name your tools or your saw.”

To her, horses were far more than tools. They were intelligent, caring creatures whose loyalty you were blessed to earn. Yet if he didn’t believe in naming them, he probably wouldn’t understand that.

He turned toward his team once more, and she could see their ears twitching back to listen to him as he spoke again.

“I disagree with Drew,” he said as if making a confession. “My horses are more than bone and muscle, meant only for turning a field or tugging out a stump. I rely on them, and I know they rely on me. They believe in me when no one else does. I think of them as Sir Lancelot and Sir Percival. Lance is a little bigger and prouder, but Percy has the greater heart.”

What beautiful sentiments! His look was soft, paternal even. Rina had to fight the urge to touch his shoulder, tell him she understood.

And he knew the legend of King Arthur? Perhaps Le Morte D’Arthur had been one of the books his father had left him. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d read it, believing that her parents’ kingdom was as marvelous as Camelot.

Now it wasn’t a kingdom awaiting her, but a frontier schoolhouse. After traveling thousands of miles and counting off the months, she was about to achieve her dream of teaching. She could hardly sit still as James guided his team out of the woods at last. A clearing opened up around her, wide pastures surrounded by curly-topped cedar and fir pointing to the darkening sky. A large, two-story log house sat across one end of the clearing, with a barn to the south of it. But what drew Rina’s eye was the building at the back of the clearing, up against the hillside.

The newly peeled logs gleamed gold in the setting sun. The brass bell on a stand outside the planked door looked as if it would ring for miles. She could imagine children lining up outside, eager to come in for lessons. Her heart swelled. This could be her school.

This might be where she could make a difference, where her life would count for something.


Chapter Three (#ulink_bf4ba568-9a2c-5aa8-bdb3-a9589a945ea4)

From far too close, a gun roared.

Rina gasped and ducked away from the sound, pulse racing.

“It’s all right,” James assured her, reaching out a hand. But the gun barked again.

“Are we under attack?” she cried.

“Not at the moment,” James promised with a gentle smile as he reined in near the school. “That’s just how we call folks to dinner.”

Rina managed to catch her breath and nod. She had to remember she was far from the world into which she’d been born. But she’d hardly imagined she’d be fired on the moment she reached Wallin Landing!

“James!” The call came from the house, where Rina noticed a young woman with straight blond hair. She hung a gun on a hook near the door on the rear porch, lifted her pink gingham skirts and came running to meet the wagon. Her smile broadened her heart-shaped face as she gazed up at Rina.

“You’re here! Thank you so much for coming! I can’t wait to see what you’ll teach us. I’ve read all of Pa’s books and any John could get, but I know there’s so much out there to learn. I love history, but I’m not terribly good at math. John says I just need more practice.”

“This is Beth,” James said when the young woman paused for breath. “She’ll be one of your students. She’s enthusiastic. About everything.”

Beth’s full cheeks turned red, and Rina felt for her.

“Any student who enjoys learning will be a blessing to teach,” she told the girl.

Beth beamed. “Thank you. I promise not to talk so much in class. Or at least I’ll try. Dinner’s nearly ready. Will you eat with us?”

Rina glanced at James for guidance. He’d said the teacher was to have her own place, but perhaps she should eat with the family nearest the school until they were all sure the position was hers.

James eyed his sister. “Who cooked tonight?”

She raised her head and stuck out her chin. “Levi, but I helped.”

James nodded. “It’s safe, then, Miss Fosgrave. Levi does a decent job, but I’d beware of John’s cooking.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice, eyebrows wiggling. “Far too creative with the sauce, and don’t get me started on his use of cinnamon.”

Beth giggled, but Rina felt herself slipping into those deep blue eyes. She forced herself to look away. “I’d be honored to join you for dinner, Miss Wallin. Give me a moment to change out of my travel dirt.”

Beth’s eyes widened as if Rina’s propriety awed her, but James straightened.

“No need,” he said. “We’re all nice and dirty in our family.”

With another giggle, Beth excused herself to hurry back to the house. Rina frowned at James. Why would he refuse her? The Fosgraves had changed clothes at least four times a day. She only wanted to look her best for the people who would hire her.

“I do not believe my choice of attire is any concern of yours, Mr. Wallin,” she informed him.

“Oh, yes it is,” he declared, hopping down. He came around the wagon to her side. “Until one of my brothers shows up, I’m the one who’d have to ferry that trunk of yours to the school so you could change.” He bent and pressed a hand to his lower back with a groan. “’Bout near crippled me the first time.”

Rina shook her head, fighting a smile. “You do not strike me as particularly feeble, sir.”

He straightened. “Not in the least, but I’ll admit to being lazy as the day is long. I’ll let Drew carry your trunk. I’ll take the more delightful task.” He held up his arms. “Fair warning, ma’am, as I promised. I mean to take you in my arms. Only to help you down, of course.”

The ground was a long ways below. She knew she needed his help to get off the bench, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to feel those hands on her waist. She must have hesitated a moment too long, for his smile faded.

“I’m sorry, Miss Fosgrave,” he said, lowering his arms. “I seem to keep offending you. It isn’t intentional. I’m just used to teasing people I like.”

He liked her? Why would he like her? She’d given him no reason, hadn’t been particularly encouraging. She was no longer someone whose favor he needed to curry. Of course, as friendly as he seemed to be, he probably liked everyone and they liked him in return. Yet she couldn’t help feeling as if he’d given her something precious.

“Forgive me, Mr. Wallin,” she said, offering her hands. “Of course you may assist me.”

He slipped his arms up under hers and lifted her down as carefully as if she were made of fine crystal.

“Certainly not feeble,” she told him with a smile as he released her.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” he said, removing his hat and waving toward the house. “After you.”

Rina lifted her skirts and crossed the ground, where close-cropped grass grew in tufts. The scent from the Sound was softer here, tempered by something—perhaps fresh water and new growth? The heels of her shoes clacked against the boardwalk that surrounded the house as he darted ahead to open the door for her.

Rina stepped inside and glanced around, not sure what to expect. She’d only visited a few houses in Seattle, and those had been Spartan, especially compared to the homes the Fosgraves had preferred to rent.

The Wallin cabin seemed designed for comfort. The plain wood walls of the spacious room were made warmer by the colorful rag rug in the center of the plank floor, the pieced quilt draped over the bentwood rocker by the stone hearth. Stairs set into the far wall must have led up to the sleeping area. The openings on either side of the hearth gave access to another room that seemed to be used as a kitchen if the tangy smells coming from that direction were any indication.

An older woman, curly reddish hair turning gray, was standing by the fire, hands clutching her dark green gown. Beth waited beside a long table flanked by benches, with a hardwood chair at either end. Nearer to hand, a woman with pale blond hair neatly confined behind her head gazed at Rina and James, light blue eyes assessing. Even in the blue-flowered cotton gown and with an apron tied around her waist, Catherine Wallin looked elegant to Rina.

Her old traveling companion came forward with a smile. “Miss Fosgrave, isn’t it?”

Rina returned her smile. “Yes, thank you. How kind of you to remember me, Mrs. Wallin. I can only hope we find that we suit each other.”

Catherine frowned as if she wasn’t sure of Rina’s meaning. She glanced around Rina for the door, where James stood. He crossed to Rina’s side.

“You know how I am, Catherine,” he said. “I have on occasion exaggerated to make a point. Can you blame Miss Fosgrave if she wanted to make sure I was telling the truth before committing to being our teacher? She graciously agreed to come here for her interview so you wouldn’t have to travel all the way into town.”

He was coloring the facts, even now. Her list of requirements had not been given all that graciously.

“Oh, I see,” Catherine said, but by the look on her face, Rina thought she saw more than James intended. “That was very considerate of you, Miss Fosgrave. We can talk more after dinner.”

James took a step back. “Good. I’ll just go see to the horses.” With an encouraging nod to Rina, he left.

The room seemed somehow darker once the door closed behind him. She shook herself. She was here to teach, not to hang on every word from a certain gentleman’s mouth. Particularly when the words coming out of that gentleman’s mouth were nonsense more often than not.

“Thank you for inviting me to dine with you,” she said to Catherine.

Catherine’s smile returned. “Of course! You’ll find this table is always open. Let me introduce you to everyone. My husband and most of his brothers are expected any moment, but the others are here. You’ve already met Beth.”

Rina nodded to the girl, who was now setting pink-and-white patterned dishes on the table. “Yes, and I understand I shall have the pleasure of instructing her.” She could imagine the older girl helping beside her, teaching the little ones their letters.

“Indeed.” Catherine led her over to the other woman, a tall lady, her eyes were a vibrant shade of green in a face shaped like Beth’s.

“This is Mrs. Wallin, Beth’s mother,” Catherine explained.

“So glad you could join us, Miss Fosgrave,” the elder Mrs. Wallin said with a ready smile. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

Something pounded on the boardwalk then, and the door opened to admit the rest of the Wallin men. They were all dressed in rough trousers and cotton shirts open at the neck and rolled up at the sleeves to reveal flannel beneath. Rina recognized the largest as Drew, Catherine’s husband, and he confirmed the fact by crossing to their sides and kissing Catherine on the cheek.

The more slender brother, who was as tall as him with hair the color of James’s, was introduced as Simon, and the younger one with red-gold hair and green eyes as John. The youngest yet, who must have been Levi, poked his curly-haired head from the back room and ordered John to help him serve. The rest started moving toward the table.

She knew she should join them, but she suddenly felt alone, uncertain. They were so eager, so helpful. Would they still want her to teach if they knew about how she’d been raised, by whom she’d been raised?

James was the last through the door. His brothers hailed him, and his mother called his name in greeting. He offered them a smile before crossing to her side and holding out his arm.

“May I have the honor of escorting you to the table, Miss Fosgrave?”

This time it was easy to place her hand on his arm, to lean on that strength. “The honor is all mine, Mr. Wallin.”

He led her to the table, then pulled out one of the benches to allow her to sit. She didn’t realize until he moved away that everyone in his family was staring at him, Beth with mouth open wide.

James went to hold out the chair at the foot of the table for his mother. “Manners?” he suggested to his brothers with an arched look.

“Well, la-di-da, as Miss Maddie would say,” Levi retorted, carrying a steaming cast-iron tureen to the table. “What are we, the queen of France?”

Rina’s face felt hot, but Mrs. Wallin pointed a finger at her youngest son. “There is nothing wrong with treating others with respect, Levi Aloysius Wallin.”

Catherine turned to her brother-in-law. “Aloysius?”

Now Levi was coloring. “Pa said it was from the old country.”

Rina could not bear to see the boy teased. “It’s a fine name,” she said. “Far better than being called Alexandrina Eugenia. I have had to live with that most of my life.”

He shook his head. “You surely have me beat, ma’am.”

“Welcome to Wallin Landing, Alexandrina Eugenia Fosgrave,” Mrs. Wallin said.

“Rina, please, Mrs. Wallin,” Rina said. “A recent change.” She couldn’t help glancing at James, who was, of course, grinning.

The rest of them sat then, and Drew said the blessing from the head of the table. Head bowed, Rina listened to his deep voice thank God for what they were about to receive. She was thankful, as well. They’d arrived safely, and the family seemed kind and considerate. But she had yet to see if the school was as James had described it. She could only pray she had been right to trust him.

* * *

James munched on one of his brother’s famous biscuits slathered in honey butter and watched Rina pick at her food from across the table. At first, each laugh had made her flinch, and she’d glanced around as if waiting for someone to order them to cease their nonsense.

Of course his older brother Simon had been nearly as bad. He kept narrowing his light green eyes at her as if something about her simply didn’t add up. That was Simon—analyzing every situation and spotting the problems just as James spotted the potential. James would never admit it to his strong-willed brother, but he admired Simon’s ability to get things done, to stay on track. Still he wasn’t about to let Simon pick on Rina.

He couldn’t help remembering what Maddie had said, that someone had hurt her. Part of him wanted to hold her close, shelter her from whatever had sapped her joy. The other part wanted to tease her unmercifully until she smiled again.

He must have restrained himself sufficiently, for his family noticed.

“Are you feeling sick?” Beth asked as he helped her clear the table. Catherine and Ma had taken Rina aside, most likely to talk about their hopes for the school.

“Never felt better,” James said, carrying the empty tureen to the washtub in the back room. He peered over his shoulder through the opening by the hearth in time to see Rina frown. Didn’t she like what they were saying? Was she even now thinking about leaving? He’d worked too hard to coax her into coming!

“No, there’s something wrong,” John said, following them with a stack of cups. “Otherwise he would have answered your question with a joke.”

James shook his head. “Not everything has to be a joke.”

Beth clutched her chest. “What! Where is the James Wallin we know and love?”

“He perished under the weight of Miss Fosgrave’s trunk,” James answered, and his sister and brother laughed.

He was smiling as he returned to the front room. He liked making people laugh. Something about the light in their eyes raised his own spirits. For a moment, he felt worthwhile, like he could do something his more talented brothers couldn’t.

Why couldn’t he make Rina laugh?

He’d seen hints of it, a twitch of those pink lips that suggested she wasn’t immune to his charm. But he wanted to hear her laugh. He wanted to see her eyes brighten, her smile broaden. That, he thought, would be a glorious sight.

He’d simply have to think of another strategy.

As he began gathering up the remaining dishes, Catherine moved to his side.

“I must ask, James,” she murmured. “Why did you choose Miss Fosgrave?”

James glanced to where his mother was showing Rina one of her colorful quilts. “Look at her, Catherine. Nothing rattles her. That’s what we need in our schoolteacher. You know how some of those women would react when they discovered they’ll have three students for the moment, two of which should have graduated the schoolroom years ago.”

Catherine shook her head, pale hair gleaming in the lamplight. “I know our school is unique, and I can see Miss Fosgrave has a presence, James. But she’s quite pretty.”

James eyed her. “It doesn’t require a hatchet-faced spinster to teach a fellow, ma’am.”

“It doesn’t take a beauty, either,” she retorted. “At the moment, however, I’m more concerned with her skills. I want you to join us on this interview. There’s a great deal we must know about Miss Fosgrave before we grant her this position.”

Was she determined to make it difficult? Or was it that she could not trust his decision? “We never asked to see your credentials when you came to take care of Ma,” he pointed out. “You said you were a nurse, and that was good enough for us.”

She blinked. “James Wallin, there are moments when you are positively brilliant.”

James raised a brow. “Mere moments, ma’am?”

She laughed. “Take the victory I’m giving you, sir. I’ll ask her some questions, but I’ll see whether her actions confirm her abilities. It may be that she has a great deal to teach her students.” She eyed James. “And you.”

“Me?” Only the dishes in his arms kept him from raising his hands. “I don’t need schooling.”

“About some things,” Catherine insisted. She turned to motion Rina over, but James felt as if the plates had tripled in his grip. Although he appreciated the light in a woman’s eyes, the gleam in Catherine’s just then had been positively terrifying. Her smile to Rina was even more so.

He was very much afraid his sister-in-law intended to follow through on the threat she’d made at her wedding to match them all up with brides. And she meant Rina for him.

That plan had to be chopped down faster than an ailing cedar. His father’s death had taught him that life was uncertain, unpredictable. The more you clutched close, the more could be taken from you. He had no intention of marrying, leaving behind a wife in sorrow or living with the pain of watching her die. He shoved the dishes at John and tugged down on his waistcoat, preparing for a fight.

Catherine was all encouragement as she invited Rina and Ma to the table, then sat and placed her hands on the worn wood surface. The light from the lamp highlighted the planes of her face. James was glad Simon had excused himself after dinner to tend to chores at his cabin or this interview could have turned into an inquisition. James positioned himself now where he could see Rina. Her color was high, but at his presence or the upcoming questioning, he couldn’t be sure.

“Now, then, Miss Fosgrave,” Catherine said, “you were going to tell us why you wished to become a teacher.”

James leaned closer, eager for the answer. He could almost see Rina’s confidence slide over her like a royal robe. She sat taller, raised her chin and met their gazes in turn. Her gaze only wavered when it touched his.

“I consider it an honor to help children prepare for a better future,” she said.

James nodded, smile hitching up. That’s what they wanted for the school, as well. He glanced at Catherine, who offered Rina a smile.

“And how did you prepare for this honor?” she asked. “Where did you attend school?”

“I received the finest education from personal tutors,” Rina told her. “I am well versed in mathematics, geography, history, literature and science, and I am fluent in French and Italian.”

How could anyone not be impressed with her? He looked to his mother this time.

“A good education,” Ma agreed with a smile, “though I’m not sure what call my children will ever have to speak French.”

“Please don’t teach Beth,” James couldn’t help teasing Rina. “We barely understand her as it is.”

His mother swatted his hand. A smile lifted at one corner of Rina’s pretty pink lips.

Catherine remained relentlessly on topic. “What about references?”

Rina inclined her head. “I have a character reference in my trunk. I can show it to you once I unpack.”

“But no references from previous positions?” Catherine asked with a frown.

Now his mother looked concerned as well. “Have you ever taught school?”

Rina took a deep breath, the satin at her shoulders bunching with the movement. “No, Mrs. Wallin. But I believe I have the skills and determination necessary to make a good teacher. You will find no one more dedicated to her profession.”

James could believe that. Her fervor shone from her eyes. But she couldn’t know how important this school was to his family and to him. This was his chance to make up for what had happened to his father. He still thought Rina had the backbone for the job, but for the first time, he began to doubt he’d made the right choice.

Rina had all but accused him of picking her for her looks, and Catherine seemed to fear as much. Could it be that Rina wasn’t the right teacher for them after all?

Had he made as grave an error in judgment as the day he’d looked away from the tree and missed the branch that had killed his father?


Chapter Four (#ulink_04ddb66f-1cec-550d-9489-3e139bad93ea)

They were going to send her packing. Rina refused to shiver at the thought. She’d already given Catherine and Mrs. Wallin doubts about her abilities. She could see it in their frowns, the way they leaned back from her, Catherine’s cotton gown crinkling. She didn’t want them to think she also had no confidence in her skills.

Even if she did doubt herself on occasion.

“Dedication is all well and good,” Catherine said. “But ours is a somewhat unusual school, Miss Fosgrave. I wonder that someone without experience will know how to deal with the problems.”

“Problems?” Rina couldn’t help glancing at James. He seemed to be examining the lowest button on his waistcoat. Did he doubt her now, as well? Somehow, that made her feel all the more shaky.

Mrs. Wallin rose. “Perhaps it would be best if we showed her the school, Catherine. We can explain better there.”

Catherine stood, too. “Very well. James, if you’d be so good as to light the way.”

He shuddered as if it were a difficult task, and Rina waited for some joke to pop out of his mouth. But he merely lifted the brass-based lamp from the table and went to open the door for the ladies.

“Wait for us!” Beth cried, grabbing Levi’s hand and tugging him with her from where they’d been playing chess near the fire. Simon and John had already retired for the evening, but Drew also pushed off from the wall to join them.

They made quite a procession in the moonlight, James at the head with the lantern, Catherine on one side of Rina and Mrs. Wallin on the other with Beth and Levi tailing behind and Drew bringing up the rear. The light pushed back the darkness and cocooned them in warmth. Yet still Rina felt chilled.

“It’s a wonderful school,” Beth was bubbling. “I know you’ll approve of it, Miss Fosgrave. Everyone worked so hard to make it perfect.”

Her excitement should have been contagious, but it only served to make Rina all the more aware of the tension in James. He strode along, one hand fisted at his side as if trying to hold something in. She realized she’d only known him a few hours, but his attitude seemed off-kilter. Was it only her lack of experience that troubled him, or something more?

Her concerns gnawed at the edges of her confidence. Was she about to discover the dark side of these seemingly bright and happy people?

James stopped in front of the door, where someone had painted “Lake Union School” in white letters. Below, a blank space had been left for the teacher’s name. A tingle shot through her. Her name could go right there, if only she could prove herself to the Wallins. She clasped her hands tightly together in front of her gown, one up, one down, as James threw open the door.

She followed him inside, gazing about. The single room was long, with a window on either side to let in light and air and a hearth at the back for warmth. A fire glowed in it now. Next to the hearth stood a door that must lead to the teacher’s quarters.

Beth’s claim that they’d all worked hard was evident everywhere Rina looked. The logs making up the walls had been squared off, smoothed and chinked, the floor planked tightly together to keep things snug in cold weather. Benches made from shaved logs, carefully sanded and dotted by several small slates that lay waiting for their students, ran in rows down the center. A proper desk with ink well and tilted surface sat near the front with a hard-backed chair covered in a quilted cushion for the teacher.

But not everyone apparently was as pleased with the school as Beth. Written on the broad blackboard on the front wall in large, crooked chalk letters were the words, “We don’t need no stoopit school. Go away now else you might get hurt.”

Rina gasped.

Catherine’s reaction was more visible. “Levi Wallin!” she cried, whirling to face her youngest brother-in-law. “Shame on you!”

“You know better than to behave like this,” his mother scolded him, rounding on the boy.

Levi stepped back from their fury and raised his hands, face red. “I didn’t do it!”

Rina didn’t know what to believe. His protests seemed genuine, but then so had every word from the Fosgraves’ mouths. The letters made it plain that someone didn’t want her here. But whether she taught at Wallin Landing was Catherine and Mrs. Wallin’s choice.

And hers.

Rina lifted her skirts and swept to the board. “I certainly hope a student in my school would realize the impropriety of using a double negative. And stupid—” she picked up the chalk and marked through the word “—will never be applied to this school or any of its students.”

A sharp sound startled her. Turning, she found James applauding, his grin growing with each movement. He looked as if his marvelous horses had just birthed a prize foal. The cold she’d been feeling evaporated to be replaced with a warmth that went straight to her heart.

“Well said, Miss Fosgrave,” Mrs. Wallin declared with a nod of satisfaction. “I do believe we’ve found our teacher.”

“So it would seem,” Catherine replied with a smile to Rina and a look to her husband. “Let me show you the teacher’s quarters, Miss Fosgrave. Beth took special care to make them welcoming.” She glanced over her shoulder at James and Levi as if daring them to misbehave.

“Why don’t you go check on the horses?” James said to Levi. “You know I can’t mix Lance’s grain to his liking.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “You get it wrong on purpose so I’ll do the work for you.”

James put a hand to his heart. “Never!”

Drew chuckled, then lay a large hand that could not be denied on Levi’s shoulder. Eyes narrowed, the youth left the school with his oldest brother. Rina felt some of the tension leave with him.

She thought James might follow his brothers, but he insisted on carrying the lamp for the ladies. Indeed, he hung on Rina’s heels like a loyal guard, as if determined to protect her. Did he think whoever had written those words was hiding in the other room, ready to make good on the threat? A chill ran through her at the idea.

“If Levi didn’t write those words on the board,” she said to Catherine as her hostess led her to the door beside the hearth, “who did?”

Catherine and Mrs. Wallin exchanged glances.

“I wouldn’t be concerned,” Mrs. Wallin said. “It was only a childish prank.”

Rina wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know too many children who would dare to deface the schoolroom or threaten the teacher.

“Do the other families want this school as much as you do?” she asked Catherine as her former traveling companion pushed open the door.

Catherine’s lips thinned. “Want it or not, the school is much needed.”

Beth wiggled past them just then, snatching the lamp from James. “Oh, please, let me do the honors. I do so hope you like it, Miss Fosgrave. I chose the patterns out of Godey’s.”

“A magazine that is the end-all and be-all of Beth’s existence,” James murmured to Rina with a smile that brightened the room more than the lamp.

The teacher’s quarters consisted of a single cozy room. Heat would radiate from the stones of the hearth, and the window overlooking the woods made the space seem larger. A wooden bedstead stood against one wall, covered with a blue-and-green quilt that matched the colors on the braided rug covering the floor. A real armchair—overstuffed and comfy looking, sat in the corner with a set of shelves beside it to hold her things. An oval mirror and porcelain-covered washbasin rested on a worktable, with a beautiful carved chest beside it.

Rina pressed her fingers to her lips, tears burning her eyes. She’d slept on feather beds, under swansdown-filled comforters covered in velvet. But this, this was real and truly hers.

“Oh, Beth,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”

Beth’s face turned a happy red.

James wandered to the wooden chest. “I see you’re putting all your hope in education, Beth,” he said, fingers touching the carved roses along the side.

Her color deepened as she raised her head. “Drew made it for me. I can do with it what I want.”

Realization struck. “Beth, I can’t accept your hope chest!” Rina cried. “I can make do with my trunk to store my clothing. We’ll have someone return your chest to the house.”

James pressed a hand to his lower back and groaned, earning him a laugh from Beth.

Rina couldn’t help but be touched. They’d taken such pains to make the school and teacher’s quarters lovely as well as functional. Who would find fault with the school or threaten the teacher?

“You were going to tell me about the students,” she said to Catherine.

“Did you notice the quilt, Miss Fosgrave?” Beth asked, hurrying to the bed. “Ma stitched it. You can see the school in the middle.”

Rina could make out a shape that resembled a log cabin sewn into the fabric. But she had a feeling Beth was merely trying to divert her attention.

James evidently thought the same, for he straightened. “You don’t have to posture, Beth. We may have decided that Miss Fosgrave is everything we could wish in a teacher, but she deserves to know everything about the position before making her decision.” He turned to Catherine. “Tell her.”

Catherine nodded as if accepting her fate. “We only have three students right now, Miss Fosgrave—Beth, Levi and a young fellow named Scout Rankin.”

Rina frowned. “Forgive me, but I must have misunderstood you. Beth is nearly grown...”

“Thank you!” Beth cried with an eye to her mother, who shook her head.

“And Levi appears to be an adult,” Rina finished.

“He’s eighteen,” his mother confessed. “Scout’s seventeen.” She eyed her daughter. “And despite any other hopes, Beth is still only fourteen.”

Beth deflated with a sigh.

So did Rina’s hopes. She could feel James watching her as she glanced at each of them in turn. “You have no need for a grammar school,” she said. “You want a university.”

Beth nodded eagerly, but Catherine held up a finger. “Not quite. For one thing, their skills aren’t advanced enough for a true university setting. For another, the distance to Seattle is great enough that we cannot send them to the territorial university there, even if they had the proper underpinnings. Besides, I would never trust their education to that man.”

That man. Rina knew she must mean Asa Mercer. Catherine and her friend Allegra Banks Howard had been some of the most vocal opponents of the emigration agent and university president aboard ship on the way to Seattle. Like Rina, they could not appreciate his high-handed ways and underhanded approach of accepting bride money from men without informing the prospective brides. Any teacher would be better than him.

But Rina hadn’t come prepared to teach at the university level. At times she’d wondered whether she would be able to discipline an unruly child. How did one discipline men? She’d purchased primers with the last of her funds, prepared to teach rudimentary skills to young learners. These would be more determined students, ones with every ability to thwart her, try her patience, sap her strength.

Keep her from remembering all she’d lost.

“We know we’re asking a lot,” James said to her, gaze serious for once. “But this school is important. Beth and Levi are important. We want the best for them.”

And he thought she was the best. Once more her heart swelled. He knew exactly the words to disarm and persuade her. She shouldn’t trust him, yet she wanted to.

She turned to Catherine and Mrs. Wallin. “It would be my honor to accept the position of teacher at the Lake Union School. I will do everything in my power to provide my students with the education needed to take their places in the world.”

James smiled as if he’d known all along this was the right decision. Rina felt it, as well.

Thank You, Lord.

Beth wasn’t content to smile. She threw her arms around Rina and hugged her so tightly Rina’s breath left in a rush. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Miss Fosgrave!”

James reached out and carefully disengaged his sister. “She doesn’t come with a warning, either,” he murmured to Rina.

She couldn’t help her smile. There were many things to warn her away from Wallin Landing. Yet all she wanted to do was stay.

* * *

James followed Catherine, his mother and Beth out the door of the school, leaving Rina to settle herself in her new home. After that note on the board and Catherine’s explanation of their unorthodox arrangement, he’d half expected Rina to demand that he return her to Seattle immediately. But she’d heard about the school and accepted their terms. He ought to be overjoyed.

Still something nagged at him. He didn’t believe his brother’s protests for a second. Levi had no interest in schooling. It would be just like him to leave that note on the blackboard. James had made sure to erase it before exiting the schoolhouse, but by the look on Rina’s face where she’d stood in the doorway to the teacher’s quarters watching him, she wouldn’t be able to forget it.

And James couldn’t forget Catherine’s concern that Rina didn’t have the experience to handle a student like his brother. Would she stay long if Levi kept up his pattern of harassment? He knew from experience that threats and punishments had little effect on the boy. James had been much the same way, until Pa had died.

“You go on,” he told Catherine, who was walking beside him as Ma and Beth hurried for the house, chatting about what Beth intended to wear the first day of school. “I just want to make sure there’s enough wood for the fire.”

Catherine paused to eye him. With the night so clear, he could see her smile in the moonlight. “A very wise precaution. I think we should do all we can to make Miss Fosgrave comfortable, particularly after what Scout wrote on the blackboard.”

“You’re sure it was Scout?” James asked with a frown.

“Who else?” Catherine sighed. “He’s had a difficult time of it. We have to help him. His father clearly won’t.”

Scout was another of Catherine’s projects. His father, Benjamin Rankin, lived in a run-down cabin on the lake to the south of Wallin Landing. The man’s high-stakes card games and homemade gin drew a certain crowd to his door. James had to agree it couldn’t have been a good situation in which to raise a child.

“Still, that doesn’t mean the task should fall to Rina,” he protested. “Between Scout and Levi, she may well hightail it back to Seattle.”

Her smile inched up. “I know I can rely on you to convince her to stay, James.”

She knew nothing of the kind. “Your confidence in my abilities is inspiring,” James quipped. “But I can tell what you’re trying to do, Catherine, and it won’t work. You and Drew may be blissfully happy, but that doesn’t mean marriage will have the same effect on the rest of us.”

“And it doesn’t mean it won’t,” she countered.

“That sounds like one of those improper double negatives,” James teased. “Rina was pretty set against them.”

Catherine gave his arm a squeeze. “But she isn’t set against you. I see how she looks to you for support.”

To him? That wasn’t possible. Ever since Pa had died, everyone looked to Drew or Simon, and with good reason. His older brothers were stable, reliable. He normally preferred to live each moment as it came, without a great deal of fuss about the future.

“She’ll learn,” he told Catherine. “She’s a teacher. She’ll see who she can count on, and it isn’t me.”

Catherine puffed up as if prepared to argue, but he turned his back on her. This request to secure the teacher had been the first time she’d ever asked anything of him. He was fairly sure if he hadn’t had this glib tongue, she’d have been focused on convincing another of his brothers to do the job.

Still he was thankful for his brothers as he gathered up an armload of wood from the pile leaning against the side of the barn. They each took turns filling the crib, so he wouldn’t have to chop tonight. He carried the fuel to the schoolhouse, stamping his feet on the porch to make sure Rina knew he was coming. Balancing the wood in one arm, he opened the door with the other.

“Just delivering some firewood, ma’am,” he called.

She rushed out of her room and jerked to a stop beside the last bench, chest heaving and eyes wild.

“Close the door!” she cried, finger pointing behind him.

Did she consider it improper to leave the door ajar? Beth always seemed to think doors should be left open when a young lady and gentleman were together, but maybe that rule didn’t apply to schoolmarms. For all he knew, it was something that editor at Godey’s had dreamed up. James kicked back with one foot to slam the door, then went to drop his load in the wood box near the hearth.

Rina paid him no attention. She ran to the window and peered out, head turning from one side to the other as if trying to take in every inch of the darkness.

“Thank the Lord you made it here safely,” she said before turning to look at him. She blinked. “Why aren’t you armed?”

She was obviously terrified to be out in the wilderness. He should have thought of that, but then, he hadn’t considered Seattle all that much more civilized. Best to keep things light. He made a show of raising his arms and glancing at each in turn. “I thought I was armed.”

“Will you be serious? Help me with these.” She whirled to tug at one of the shutters beside the window. James crossed to her side and helped her close them. He could hear her breath coming quickly. How could he ease her concerns?

“There you go, Rina,” he said, stepping back as if to admire their handiwork. “All shut in, safe and sound. Probably a good idea considering the treasure this schoolhouse is guarding.”

She frowned at him, the pink of exertion darkening her cheeks. “Treasure? What treasure?”

“Why, the prettiest schoolmarm west of the Mississippi,” he told her, adding a smile for good measure.

She stiffened. “Nonsense. Really, Mr. Wallin, I wish you would attend to the problem for once.”

James threw up his hands. “And I wish you’d realize there is no problem!”

From outside came the howl of a wolf.

Rina grabbed his arm, eyes wide. “Did you hear that?”

“Hush, now,” James answered, listening. The call came again, close to the schoolhouse, yet he could hear no whinnies of terror from the barn, no worried lows from the oxen or squeals from the pigs.

“Can it get in?” she whispered.

James touched her hand. “You’re safe, Rina. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She gazed up at him, face pinched. She wanted to believe him—he could see it in those clear eyes. Yet she couldn’t. Had Catherine told her how he’d failed the family in the past? No, of course not. Catherine wanted Rina to fall in love with him. She wouldn’t point out his faults. Perhaps it had been Ma. Or maybe Rina had just noticed that he was the least talented of his brothers. She was clever enough to have figured out she couldn’t afford to believe in him.

Another call sounded, and something scratched at the door of the schoolhouse. Rina clung to James, trembling. He felt for her—alone, vulnerable and with only him to lean on.

He straightened and set her back from him. “Stay here. I’ll deal with this.”

She shook her head, hair falling from her bun to brush her shoulders with gold. “No, James, please! It’s too dangerous!”

James touched the silk of her cheek. “What is it you always say to me? Nonsense. I’ll be right back, Rina. I promised to protect you, and I mean to keep that promise.”


Chapter Five (#ulink_442f5427-25e6-58a3-96d0-2f7f94c2c2bc)

Rina’s fingers felt numb as James pulled away and headed for the door. She hadn’t been able to catch her breath since she’d heard noises outside. First had come a rattling sound outside her window, as if something was shaking the bushes. Then those hideous cries had pierced the night. She might have been raised in civilization, but she’d read about the mournful call of the wolf. How was James to defend himself against an entire ravenous pack?

“Please, stay inside,” she begged, following him to the door. “If anything happens to you...” She couldn’t make herself finish the sentence.

His smile was sad. “Life would go on. I’m not that important in the scheme of things. But you are. Now, stand back.”

She scuttled away from the door. Lord, please protect him! Send those creatures away before they harm any of these kind people!

He edged out the door and shut it behind him.

Rina ran to the panel and pressed her ear against it. How many were out there? Would they jump on him? They certainly sounded too fierce to run away. Why, oh, why had she agreed to travel all the way to Seattle, to come out into the wilderness with him? This chance for a school was beyond wonderful, but nothing was worth the loss of a man’s life.

From outside came a crack and a yelp. Was he hurt? Should she go help? Her hand was on the latch, fingers trembling, when she heard footsteps crossing the porch. Wolves did not wear shoes. She backed away, hands pressed to her chest, as the door opened.

James stood there, fir needles speckling his hair, smile on his face, all limbs accounted for and not a scratch on him. “Problem solved.”

Rina peered around him, unable to believe things had been settled so easily. “Have they gone?”

“Not exactly.” He raised his voice. “Levi, Scout—inside. Now.”

His younger brother slunk through the door, curly-haired head bowed. A slighter boy with a misshapen nose followed him.

“Miss Fosgrave is your teacher,” James said, his look more severe than any of her tutors had ever given her. “And she deserves your respect. But I think you have something to teach her at the moment. She seems to think we have wolves besieging the schoolhouse.”

Levi snickered, and his friend smiled. Why was that funny? Did they know some way to subdue the beasts?

James focused on the smaller boy. “Is there a wolf pack in this area, Scout?”

So this was her other student. His brown hair was as thick and wild as a crow’s nest, sticking out in all directions, and his clothing appeared to be several sizes too big and several days past a washing. At James’s question, he visibly swallowed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tattered trousers. “No.”

The word came out reluctantly, sullen. She would not allow James to be so disrespected.

“No, sir,” Rina corrected the boy.

James looked surprised. So did Scout.

“Why?” he asked, glancing at James. “It’s just James Wallin.”

“Listen to your teacher,” James ordered him.

Scout bowed his head. “All right. Sir.”

James nodded. “And do we occasionally see a rogue wolf in the area, Levi?”

His brother jumped as if he hadn’t thought he’d be questioned too. “Yes, but don’t expect me to call you, sir.”

More disrespect. It simply wasn’t right. James was their elder, a man who, it seemed, had earned a certain stature if his charter to bring them a schoolteacher was any indication. They had every reason to treat him with deference.

“A simple yes or no will do, Mr. Wallin,” Rina said.

Levi colored.

“When was the last time we saw wolf tracks, Levi?” James persisted.

Levi scratched his head. “I don’t know. Maybe two years ago now?”

“Two years ago?” Rina glanced at James, truth dawning. “So, those noises...”

“Were most likely not made by wolves,” James concluded. “At least, not the four-footed variety.” His gaze returned to the youths. “Anything you’d like to say to Miss Fosgrave, gents?”

Scout wiped his nose with the back of one hand. “Too bad you came all this way fer nothing.”

Levi nodded. “Maybe you could teach Beth how to talk all fancy-like so she can attract a rich husband, but I don’t reckon you got anything to teach us.”

Something pricked at her. Like her so-called father, Levi Wallin was so certain he knew more than anyone else that he was somehow above the petty rules that others obeyed. She might not be able to reach such a closed mind. But then again...

“Tell me, Mr. Wallin,” she said, raising her chin. “What do you hope to do with your life now that you’re a man?”

James shook his head as if afraid she’d given his brother too much credit. Levi straightened with a sneer to James. “I’m moving into town first chance I get.”

James’s gaze drifted to the ceiling as if trying to look anywhere else but at his brother.

“And what will you do there?” she pressed.

Levi grinned at Scout. “Anything I want.”

Scout grinned back.

“What a delightful life,” Rina said. “How do you intend to pay for your frivolity?”

Levi’s grin faded. “Frivol-what?”

“All the fun you’ll be having,” James explained with a smile to Rina.

“I assume you want to have fun, Mr. Wallin,” Rina confirmed.

His grin returned. “Yes, ma’am!”

Rina took a step closer, gaze drilling into his. “How will you pay for it? Fine clothes and food must be purchased, sir. Money doesn’t grow on trees, even here in Seattle. So what will you do? Labor for Mr. Yesler at the mill? Work in a shop?”

Levi’s chest swelled. “I don’t need another person telling me what to do all day. I’ll open my own shop.”

James chuckled and turned the noise into a cough when Levi glared at him.

“And how will you do that?” Rina asked. “Do you understand the language of a warranty deed? Can you calculate the interest on a loan? Do you know how to amortize payments? How much will you need to earn from your goods to turn a profit? How much profit will you need to invest so that you can continue to expand your business?”

With each question, Levi’s color fled a little more. Before he could answer her, she turned to Scout. “And what of you, Mr. Rankin? Do you intend to move to town and have fun like Levi?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, gaze dropping to where his bare toes were pressed into the floor. “Makes no sense, as most folks in town wouldn’t give me the time of day. I’d like to homestead. Don’t reckon you know how to do that.”

His voice held more despair than defiance. There was a story behind this boy. She wondered if it was anything like her own—abandoned, lied to, left to fend for herself. Still, she had clean clothes, food, the hope of a future. She wasn’t so sure Scout Rankin had any of those things.

“I know nothing about homesteading, Mr. Rankin,” she admitted. “But I know about the Farmer’s Almanac. I can teach you to understand it, and from there you can learn how to calculate crop yields, determine the best times to plant and harvest and even predict the weather.”

His head came up, and his eyes widened. Like his hair, they were a muddy brown, but she could see the light of intelligence in them, the flicker of hope. “That would be right helpful, ma’am.”

Levi narrowed his eyes as if he thought his friend was giving in too easily.

Rina refused to be daunted. “Good,” she said. “Then I expect to see you both tomorrow morning at eight when I ring the bell.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scout said, though Levi merely snapped a nod.

“And I expect,” James added, “that Miss Fosgrave will hear no more wolves outside her window or find threats on the blackboard.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused. James pointed to the door, and they shuffled out.

Rina shook her head. “You knew all along it wasn’t a wolf pack, didn’t you?”

“I suspected,” James said with a shrug. “But I thought it best to make sure. I’m sorry they frightened you, Rina.”

She sighed. “They terrified me. Nothing in my life prepared me to fight off vicious predators.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t imagine too many people have that preparation. Beth, Ma and Catherine can handle a rifle if needed. I suppose we better teach you how to shoot, just in case.”

She raised her brows. “Just in case of what? Do you expect more wild beasts, real ones, to come calling?”

He laughed. “No. Once in a rare while, something wanders a little too close to the barn, but normally the wild animals give us a wide berth. They’ve learned humans can be dangerous.”

So had she. “Then I doubt I must carry a gun.”

“Maybe just a whip and chair for your wild students,” he joked.

Rina shook her head. Levi and Scout were going to be a handful, but she supposed she couldn’t blame them for resenting the school. They were both at an age where sitting around learning had to sound tedious and tiresome. She’d have to find ways to make the lessons relevant for them.

But for all her fine arguments, what did she know about opening a shop or understanding the Farmer’s Almanac?

Her concerns must have been written on her face, for James put a hand to her elbow as if to steady her. “You dealt with them brilliantly. You’re going to be a great teacher.”

She drew in a breath, feeling as if she drew in strength as well. “It will be a challenge. Thank you, for the encouragement and for routing my wolves.”

He dropped his hold and saluted her. “Any time, ma’am. James Wallin, wilderness scout, at your service.”

She smiled. “I hope this is as close to the wilderness as I ever come.”

He cocked his head. “It’s not so bad, you know. Come on. I’ll show you.”

He held out his hand, but Rina couldn’t make herself accept it. “Where do you intend to take me, Mr. Wallin?”

He grinned. “Into the wild.”

* * *

James thought she would refuse. Those clear eyes were crinkling at the corners from doubt. When her fingers slipped into his hand, he felt as if she’d entrusted him with her life.

He led her out onto the porch. Between the trees and the usual cloud cover, it wasn’t always easy to see the sky in Seattle. Now thousands of stars set the darkness to shimmering, bathing the clearing with silver. The light from the main house and Drew’s and Simon’s cabins offered a golden counterpoint.

She sighed as if she saw the beauty too. Down by the lake, frogs chirped a chorus and something splashed in the water. The breeze touched their cheeks with gentle fingers.

“There now,” James said. “Not so very scary.”

“Only because I have an escort,” she said. “And the cabins remind me that there are others just across the way. It was another matter when I was alone in my room.”

“And a strange room at that,” James commiserated. “Though, mind you, I think my sister’s designs are always a little strange. Those wide skirts and puffy sleeves.” He shivered as if the very idea was unthinkable.

She didn’t laugh. “Your sister is a dear. I just feel a trifle unsettled.”

“I know what you need,” James said. “Horses.”

He’d been trying for a smile or at least one of her scoldings that he was talking nonsense again. Instead, she straightened, squeezing his hand. “Oh, yes. That would be wonderful!”

Bemused, James escorted her to the barn.

The cool of the night had yet to penetrate the log structure. Earthy smells and familiar calls greeted them as James pulled open the door. He lit a lamp and led Rina toward the back of the barn, where Lance and Percy had their stalls.

The pair were standing, heads down and backs toward the aisle, their dark coats gleaming in the lamplight. Both turned to greet him, hanging their heads over the door of the stalls and nickering. James stroked each velvety nose in turn. Lance’s dark eyes were stern.

“Yes, I know it’s after bedtime,” he told the horse. “But you’d never been properly introduced to the lady. Rina Fosgrave, meet Sir Lancelot and Sir Percival.”

Rina spread her skirts and curtsied like a grand lady greeting the president. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my fine sirs.”

Lance raised his head as if he were above such things. Percy craned his neck to demand her attention.

Rina reached out and touched his cheek. “Such a bold fellow. I bet you are your master’s favorite.”

James pressed his hands to Lance’s ears. “Shh! Not so loud. He’ll hear you.”

Lance shook away from his touch and turned in the stall to put his back to James.

“There,” James declared. “Now you’re done it. I’m going to have to bring apples for a month to make it up to him.”

Rina giggled. It was a soft, silvery sound, brightening the barn, lifting his heart. A man would do almost anything to hear that laugh again and know he’d been the cause of such joy.

“Why don’t we go for a drive?” he asked, reaching for the stall door.

She dropped her hand from Percy, and the horse nudged her shoulder to urge her to continue. Instead, she stepped away with a frown. “I would never take them out after dark for fear they would fall into a hole and break a leg.”

There was that. He never had been all that good about thinking through consequences. “Of course,” he said. “You just looked so happy with them.”

Her frown eased. “They are impressive fellows. And if we have an opportunity after school some time, I would be glad to go for a ride.” She raised her voice. “Especially with you, proud Sir Lancelot.”

Lance snorted as if he couldn’t care less, but James saw his ears tip back to listen.

They stayed a while longer, then James walked Rina back to the school. The farther the barn lay behind, the more he felt her stiffen. Was she still worried about teaching?

“You’ll be fine tomorrow,” he assured her as he opened the door for her and the light from the teacher’s quarters spilled across the boards of the porch.

Her stiff smile told him she didn’t believe him.

“I imagine every teacher is nervous her first day of school,” he tried again. He nudged her with his elbow. “Just think how nervous your students must be. They’ve never been in school before. At least you’ve been a student.”




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