Donovan's Bed: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 1 (10 page)

BOOK: Donovan's Bed: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 1
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“Oh?” Momentarily confused, she glanced at her mother. June beamed at her, which immediately put her on her guard. “Uh…what a nice thing to say. How is your family?”

“Fine, fine. Ross Junior’s been helping a lot with the cattle, but I think the twins and little Betsy are still feeling the loss of their Ma. Girls that age need a woman’s guidance.” He smiled and added, “If you know what I mean.”

Sarah was shocked by the admiration in his voice. Though in his forties, Ross was still as fit as a man half his age, and one of the wealthiest men around. His wife had died two years ago from influenza, leaving Ross to raise his son and three daughters on his own.

And now he was smiling at her, Sarah Calhoun, like a suitor come calling on Sunday.

“Young girls do need a woman to talk to,” June interjected into her daughter’s silence. “Before you know it, they’ll be married and gone from the house.”

Ross flashed her mother a grateful smile. “Don’t I know it. Little Betsy keeps begging to dress like her sisters. And the twins are barely sixteen, but the boys have already come sniffing around. I’ve got a mind to keep my rifle handy.”

June laughed just as Reverend Westerly stepped out of the church and began ringing the bell that signified that the town council meeting was about to begin. Ross took Sarah’s hand.

“Perhaps I could call on you next Saturday evening, Sarah?” He squeezed her fingers meaningfully.

Sarah hesitated, still stunned that such a decent man would even consider courting her.

“Sarah!” June urged in a whisper.

“Of course,” Sarah finally said. “Around eight o’clock?”

“Eight,” Ross agreed. He squeezed her fingers again and released her hand. “I’ll look forward to it. Until then, Sarah.” He tipped his hat. “Mrs. Calhoun.”

Sarah watched him make his way through the crowd. Her mother took her arm and tugged her forward with the rest of the people moving into the church.

“Ross Turner, Sarah! You
must
allow me to make up that blue dimity for you. You certainly can’t wear those drab browns and grays that you insist on, not when a man like him comes courting!”

“If you want to, Mama.” Sarah reached the stairs and stood aside so her mother might go before her. She bumped up against someone and glanced behind her. The apology died on her lips as she met Donovan’s dark-eyed stare.

A tingle ran down her spine. He didn’t smile or say a word. Just looked at her with those all-knowing, velvet-brown eyes.

“Oh, Sarah, this is wonderful!” June was saying. “I told you so many times that you deserve the same opportunities as any other girl. Haven’t I been saying that? Goodness, Sarah, there’s every chance you might become Mrs. Ross Turner by the end of summer!”

Startlement flashed across Donovan’s face before his expression settled into impassivity. Sarah opened her mouth, but slowly closed it again. She owed Donovan no explanations, especially not in the middle of a crowd of busybodies. She had every right to take the opportunity to become a wife and have a family. And if certain people didn’t like it, too bad. She gave Donovan a curt nod, then turned back to her mother.

“Come, Mama. I want to get a front row seat.” She urged June up the stairs, steering her toward the open double doors of the church. Just before stepping through, she glanced back at Donovan.

He was gone.

 

 

Town meetings were a new experience, Donovan thought as he seated himself in the back. In his former profession, he had never been welcome at one. But now, as a respected— and wealthy—member of the community, he was pretty much expected to attend.

The five members of the town council—Doc Mercer, Mr. and Mrs. Castor, Reverend Westerly and Mortimer Tremont, the undertaker—sat at a table in front of the church. The rest of the townspeople settled into the hard pews as Arnold Castor, mayor of Burr and well-to-do banker, called the meeting to order.

Donovan let his mind drift as issues were brought up and discussed and decided upon. There was bit of a ruckus when the Ladies’ Auxiliary for the Betterment of Burr suggested that the saloon should be closed on Sundays, but otherwise his thoughts remained uninterrupted as he focused on what June Calhoun had said.

Ross Turner was planning on courting Sarah.

He told himself that it was none of his business. He liked Ross. Having spent years learning to size up people at a glance, Donovan had decided that Ross was a decent, hard-working man and a leader of the community. Turner knew how to treat his men and his cattle, and Donovan had the highest respect for him.

But he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of Ross’s hands on Sarah.

“Doesn’t matter what you like,” he muttered to himself. “She’s got a right to get married if she wants to.”

But you don’t want her to
, a little voice whispered in his mind.

“What I want doesn’t matter,” he grumbled under his breath. The young couple sitting near him eyed him strangely. Donovan stared at them until they flushed and turned away.

You aren’t going to marry her
, the voice persisted.
You might as well stand aside and let another man have her.

Let another man touch her. Let another man bask in the heat of her passionate nature. Let another man—like Ross Turner—bury himself in her sweet body.

He shifted in his seat and silently cursed as his body reacted to the visualization of Sarah naked and writhing in a man’s arms. Only the man in his imagination wasn’t Ross Turner. It was himself.

“Damn,” he muttered. Too bad his body didn’t realize that Sarah Calhoun wasn’t the right woman to become his wife. To distract himself, he turned his attention to the meeting.

“The issue of a school has been brought before the council by the Ladies’ Auxiliary,” Arnold Castor was saying. “As president of that group, Mrs. Castor will elaborate.”

Millicent Castor rose to her feet from her seat at the council table. “Thank you, Mr. Castor.” She looked over the crowd and folded her hands at her waist. “The ladies of this town would like to suggest that a school be built and a proper schoolteacher hired to teach our children. The population in and around our little town is growing, after all, and we need to make room for newcomers.”

“Let the newcomers build their own school!” a man’s voice called out.

“Now that’s the wrong attitude,” Mrs. Castor chided. “Our own children will benefit from this as well.”

“What about Mrs. Tillis?” asked a woman with a baby on her lap. “My younguns like Mrs. Tillis.”

“Mrs. Tillis has been doing a fine job as our schoolmarm,” the mayor’s wife said with a smile, “but she has given us her resignation so that she can take care of her six children, including the little one on the way.”

There were murmurs in response to this.

“Who all’s gonna pay for the school and a new teacher?” asked Nate Pearson.

“That’s one of the things we have to decide,” Mrs. Castor responded.

“I don’t like it.” Ross Turner stood and folded his arms as he faced the council. “I don’t see the need for a fancy school building when the church does just fine. And if there are too many kids, then keep the girls home. What are they gonna use all that book-learning for anyway? They’re only gonna grow up and get married, after all.”

“No!” Sarah leaped to her feet, put her hands on her hips and scowled at Ross. “I could just as easily tell you to keep the boys home, Mr. Turner, since a boy doesn’t need to know how to read in order to rope a calf.”

A riot of voices exploded at her words, and Donovan swiped a hand over his mouth to hide a telltale grin. He couldn’t help but be amused that the target of her ire this time was Ross Turner.

The noise got louder. Arnold Castor banged the gavel on the table, but no one paid any mind as Sarah continued to debate with Ross.

Ross Turner was a powerful man, and many people who were unsure about the school issue were nodding in support of him for that reason alone. Donovan agreed with Sarah that all children—boys and girls alike—should be given the opportunity to get an education. He knew from his own childhood how valuable schooling could be. If he’d been given the chance to go to school as a boy, things could have turned out much differently for him.

“The town does not have the money to be hiring teachers or building a school,” Ross said. “The church does just fine, and I’m sure we can find someone else to teach the children.”

“We can raise the funds,” Mrs. Castor interjected. “We have several proposals ready—”

“There’s no need,” Ross insisted. “And I think most people here will agree with me. Things are fine just as they are.”

There was a general murmur of assent. Sarah looked around at the crowd. “But there
is
a need for this,” she insisted. “Would you truly deny your female children the chance to learn?”

“They don’t need no book-learnin’,” someone said.

“Mr. Turner’s right,” spoke up another man. “Them gals are just gonna up and get married anyway. They don’t need that stuff.”

“Listen to Miss Calhoun.” Donovan rose to his feet. All heads turned his way, but he looked over the sea of curious faces and met Sarah’s gaze. “Women deserve education the same as men do,” he said. “How else are they going to write letters to their relatives or read stories to their youngsters? Or be sure they’re not getting cheated at the mercantile? No offense, Nate.”

Nate Pearson grinned, and some people laughed.

“Women are just as much a part of our town as men,” Donovan continued. “They’re the root of it. They raise our children and take care of our homes. They nurse the sick and prepare the food and do a lot of other things that we men usually don’t notice.” He paused. “More than ten years ago, when this territory was first established, we showed the world how we value our women by giving them the right to vote. Women have served on our juries, and we’ve even had a woman justice of the peace. If our women are uneducated, the children of our town will grow up believing that women are less important than men. And as we know here in Wyoming Territory, that just ain’t so.”

The women in the room burst into applause. Donovan looked back at Sarah. The expression on her face was a mixture of amazement and admiration. For the first time since they’d met, he broke eye contact first. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to speak his inner thoughts so publicly. Perhaps it was the memory of the young boy he had once been, alone and uneducated in the world. Or perhaps it was the thought of his mother, and what she might have done with her life if she’d been able to read and write.

Or maybe he’d just wanted to show Sarah that there was more to him than she thought.

“All well and good,” Ross said as the clamor started to die down. “But who’s going to pay for all of this? I hope you aren’t counting on charitable donations.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Turner,” Sarah said. “You don’t have to contribute if you don’t agree.”

Ross frowned at her, but some of the women laughed.

“Very true, Sarah,” Mrs. Castor agreed, sending a cool smile Ross’s way.

“I’ll pay for it.” Heads swiveled his way again, and Donovan fought the urge to step back. He was used to lurking in the shadows, not basking in the light of so much attention.

“You’ll pay for it?” Sarah repeated, her tone dumbfounded.

“We’ll make a deal.” Donovan looked at the council. “If the town can raise the funds to build the schoolhouse, I’ll pay the teacher’s wages for the first year. After that, it’s up to you.”

“We could appoint a school board,” Mrs. Castor said with excitement. She glanced at the other four council members. “We could have fund-raisers during the year if we need to.”

The members of the town council murmured to each other for a few minutes. Donovan looked over at Sarah again. She smiled at him, a soft, genuine smile, and his heart turned over.

Arnold Castor stood. “The council agrees with Mr. Donovan’s suggestion, but we need to take a vote. All in favor, raise your hands.”

Hands shot into the air. Most were women, Donovan noticed. And many of the men who had been ready to follow Ross Turner’s advice had now switched sides.

“All opposed?” Hands went up again, but much fewer than the first time. “It’s settled then,” Mr. Castor said with a bang of the gavel. “The town council will support the Ladies’ Auxiliary for the Betterment of Burr in their effort to raise funds to build a schoolhouse. And the council gratefully accepts Mr. Donovan’s offer to sponsor the teacher for the first year.”

A cheer went up, and the gathering exploded into a babble of voices. Donovan found himself inundated with people eager to thank him for his generosity. He shook hands and recited pleasantries, somewhat overwhelmed by the attention. He had found a place among these people, he realized with astonishment. They considered him part of the community—just as he had always wanted.

But even as he reveled in the small victory, even as he thrived on the back slaps and hearty thanks, he was shaken by the knowledge that he would have done it all for nothing more than Sarah Calhoun’s approving smile.

Chapter Seven

People followed Donovan out of the church, still stopping him and thanking him for his generosity. Mrs. Castor herself had trapped him beside the church stairs and was showering him with effusive gratitude.

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