Heart of Gold (A Gold Rush Romance) (8 page)

Thomas rubbed his face with his hands. He was astounded. Here he was, thinking about marriage to a woman he hardly knew. This was all far too absurd. The strangest aspect of it, though, was that when he thought about her smile, her sparkling eyes, and the words they had exchanged, the feeling that coursed through him when their lips met, it didn’t seem so absurd. It seemed like the most sensible thing in the world.

It was obvious she was a kind, giving person. She was independent and a little mischievous. Intelligent. And she set his body on fire like no one he had ever met; his entire being ached for her, and just knowing she was nearby, only one room away, was almost too difficult to handle. What more could he desire?

He was almost glad Alice had not followed him into the dining room. He had done a poor job of calming himself down, but at least the time alone had given him a chance to think, even if all he thought about was her and the only resolution he could come to was that he wanted to be around her more.

After several minutes, he had his body nearly relaxed enough to stand and attempt to walk back into the other room. Then she walked in, and all his efforts became immediately erased by her presence. Simply looking at her made his core pulse with heat, and he wanted nothing more than to walk over and pull her tightly against his body and press his mouth to hers.

Instead, he pressed his hands against the table, glad the large wooden slab was there to hide his body’s reaction as he took in the full length of her. Her lips were parted, as if she could not quite catch her breath, and her eyes sparkled with something other than happiness. He hoped it was barely-controlled desire, and the thought made it even harder to stay in his seat.

The bun and conservative dress aimed to conceal the fire in her, but he could see beyond it. That was not truly her, in all honesty, and it seemed so obvious to him. He wondered if anyone else could see through her proper-teacher façade. Her eyes were unable to hide the truth of her completely—they were too alive, too full of passion.

He waited for her to say something—do something—that would give him permission to go over and kiss her again. Instead, she said, “The rain seems to have stopped. We should leave quickly, before it starts up again. I cannot stay here all night.”

He could think of plenty they could do if she stayed all night, but he was not about to say it. He felt fairly certain she would be willing to walk home alone in the mud if she decided to leave and he was anything but cooperative. It was one of the things he liked about her.

At least he would be able to ride next to her if he obliged her wish. “I’ll prepare the buggy.”

He stood up and strode out of the room, passing close by her in the doorway and hoping she would not notice the bulge in his trousers, something he was unable to completely rid himself of. His arm brushed against hers as he walked by her, and his heart and lungs forgot their jobs for a moment, freezing as the sensation coursed through him before they returned to working double, triple-time. He made his way through the house and outside as quickly as he could, astounded once again at her effect on him.

The air was cool and refreshing, and he breathed deeply, hoping it would calm his body down a little as he wondered when he would next see this beautiful mystery of a woman. She was far too enchanting for this to be the end.

Chapter Four

Alice grabbed the doorframe to steady herself. What was it about this man that caused her to lose her ability to be rational? She had no idea how to even begin answering that question, but that didn’t change the facts of the matter. Around him, she melted into a puddle of sensations and desires. When she had finally found herself free of his presence, she had spent several minutes trying to calm down, and now here she was back in the same spot as before.

He would be back in a very short time, and there was nothing Alice could do to gird herself against him. She thought of one thing that would be a good diversion, and could even be a help to others. There was still someone else in this house, after all, somebody who might need her company. She walked softly up the stairs and through the hallway, carefully avoiding Thomas’s room. When she had accidentally entered it the first time she walked this path, it had been sufficiently unnerving to make her keep her distance.

She could picture it perfectly, still see his clean white shirt hanging on a hook jutting from the wall, a neatened desk against the far wall, looking out the window, and the bed waiting expectantly in the corner, but mostly she remembered the smell. The smell of him, musk and some piney scent she could not explain, had beckoned to her from the doorway, inviting her in. She had been tempted to lie on the bed and press her face into the pillow, breathing him in. That was not a good avenue for her thoughts to follow at all.

Thinking about it was enough of a reminder to hurry her steps toward Joe’s door. When she knocked, his thin voice called out for her to enter, and she opened it to find the little boy sitting on his bed where she had left him, his eyes red and raw.

She felt a lump in her throat. The poor little fellow. “Hello, Joe. I will be leaving in a couple of minutes, but I wanted to see if you needed anything from me before I went. How are you?”

Joe tilted his head somberly, as if considering what exactly to say. Finally he answered, “I think I’ll be fine. Thank you, Miss Crenshaw.”

She knew he was being brave for her, but was convinced nonetheless that in time he would be fine. He was an intelligent lad, independent and confident enough to turn those words into truth. She had one last important question to ask before she left, though, to ensure that she had completed the task she’d gone there to accomplish in the first place. “Are you going to be nicer to your uncle now? You know he is only trying to help.”

His eyes flashed with anger for just a moment before he hung his head. “Yes’m. I’ll try.”

It wasn’t perfect, but promising. It would take time and effort, but he seemed to be on the path to mending his heart. Alice nodded and gave him her most encouraging smile. “I will see you tomorrow, Joe. Speak to me if you need anything.”

As she turned to leave, Joe piped up quickly, “Miss Crenshaw?”

She turned back to him. “Yes, Joe?”

“If you marry Uncle Thomas, that’d be all right. It would be nice to have a girl around.”

Alice froze and stared at the little boy. Did he see them kiss, hear them talking downstairs—both of which were mortifying in their own right—or was it so obvious that she liked Thomas that a nine-year-old was able to figure it out?

She wanted to dash away as fast as she could and disappear into a hole. But she needed to hold her ground and say something to her student, something that might repair this mortifying turn of events. After a moment she spluttered, “Thank you, Joe. That is not going to happen, but thank you for thinking so much of me.”

Probably not the best way to explain this situation to a child, but she had no idea what else to say. She walked out and closed the door behind her.

Alice pressed her face to her hands, so embarrassed she wanted to cry. And somehow pleased in a strange way she did not understand. Her heart twisted sweetly as she replayed Joe’s words.

She needed to get out of that house.

She rushed outside, hoping against hope that Thomas—Mr. Lancaster, she reminded herself firmly; she must stop doing that—would be ready to take her home. When she saw the small but handsome buggy pulling up outside the door, hitched to the horse she assumed must be Hamlet, she breathed a sigh of relief and walked over. Without taking the man’s proffered hand, she climbed into her seat, careful to leave a good deal of distance between where she sat and the driver’s place. No more touching him, she decided.

A few fat drops of rain were falling from the sky, but she cared little about the weather. It was time to leave. Mr. Lancaster seemed to understand her mood, because he got the horses moving in silence. It would be at least a fifteen minute ride across town to the Leach’s house.

She knew she would be unable to sit silently that entire time, so she started talking, wanting to guide conversation into safe territory and keep it there. “Joe is a good boy, but this is a difficult time for him. Which is understandable, of course. I will watch him at school and speak privately with him on occasion to see how he is feeling. I’m optimistic things will improve, but I shan’t assume and leave it at that. It would be a disservice to both of you.”

Thomas nodded. “Thank you for your help. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but now I at least feel hopeful that he and I can have a civilized relationship, if not a loving one. I’ve never had a child in my charge before so any help is appreciated.”

She wanted to ask why he had never married and had children, but she could hear his response in her mind clear as day: he hadn’t found the right woman. She could also imagine the look in his eyes as he said it. No, it was better to move past that without causing another uncomfortable moment. “In a way, I have twenty-two children.”

She could feel the weight of unspoken words between them, and suddenly she felt annoyed at herself. She hated the knowledge that they were both awkwardly avoiding discussing the events of the evening. Part of her wanted to talk about the kiss once more, simply to remind him and herself of the impossibility of a reoccurrence. Part of her wanted to speak about it again for other reasons, but she tried to ignore that unreasonable voice as best she could.

She cleared her throat a little and tried to make her tone as light as possible. “I spoke to Joe before we left. He… seems to have heard us talking earlier.”

She very much hoped he had come to his conclusion in that way, at least. The other options were far too embarrassing to consider. Thomas looked at her for a quick second before turning back to the horses. His expression was one of confusion, so she continued, clarifying the best way she knew how. “He told me that it would be acceptable to him if we got married.”

Thomas’s eyes popped wide in surprise and he turned back toward her so quickly that the horse veered sharply at his pull on the reins. He rapidly returned his attention to the front, trying to get the buggy back onto the muddy road and away from the grass bank they were heading for at the moment. Alice grasped the side of her seat, hoping the buggy wouldn’t flip over or become stuck in the mud. It would certainly be a surprising end to what had already been a very eventful evening, but she would much prefer to get home without anything more happening.

Once the vehicle was settled into the muddy worn ruts in the road once again, he turned back toward her, this time keeping his hands steady on the reins. “He said what?”

She had to laugh, and felt lighter because of his response. “I had approximately the same reaction.”

“What did you tell him?”

His voice was conversational, but she could tell by his eyes and the quirk of his lips that he was very interested in her response, perhaps even a little hopeful. The levity of the conversation evaporated. She had no desire to answer, but she avoided mincing words—saying the truth aloud would be good for both of them. As firmly as she could, she said, “I thanked him for the thought, but told him as clearly as I could that it would not happen. I was quite taken aback, however, and am unsure whether or not he understood the impossibility of it. I think it would be best if you speak to him as well. You need to explain to him that we will not be getting married.”

“But what if we do marry? We don’t want to confuse the boy.”

He sounded so sincere she was not sure if she should laugh or strangle him or kiss him. “We cannot get married,” she explained, speaking clearly so they would both get it through their thick skulls. “I am a schoolteacher and it is against the rules.”

He lifted one shoulder, and a half-smile worked at the edge of his lips. “You cannot blame me for trying. If you were a little less beautiful and smart and interesting, I would have accepted your declaration a good while ago.”

She felt herself blush, but could create no response.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Well, much less. If it was only a little less, I would likely still consider it.”

Goodness, she liked this man. He was fun.

She knew that now was the time to be stern and distant, but she couldn’t stop herself. She raised an eyebrow and said, “Even if I were free to marry, I doubt I would marry someone who suggested the topic after knowing me so short a time. He would be far too impulsive to make a good husband.”

He opened his eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I never suggested this topic, ma’am—you did. Or Joe did, I suppose. But it certainly was not me. So does that mean you might marry me?”

Her wild nature, the part of her that wanted to run out into the grass and tumble down hills on sunny mornings and curse up a storm when she stubbed her toe, the part she had to work so hard to control in order to be fit to teach, wanted to say yes, to hell with the consequences.

Her practical side was stronger, though. It knew exactly what the consequences might be. He was the first thing, other than her job, to make her feel truly happy in years, but that fact terrified her more than a little. She could feel her hands shaking, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.

The humor of the moment left, and Alice became solemn as reality washed over her. “Thomas, I think we should avoid seeing each other again. It would be unfair to both of us if we let this go any further and allow ourselves to get carried away.”