Lacy Williams (6 page)

“It’s too dangerous,” Sarah whispered. She couldn’t trust her voice for more.

“Just think about it, all right? I won’t let you get hurt.”

He reclaimed his hand and deftly turned the horse and buggy into the Allens’ yard. The Allen children played in the yard, but began shouting and waving when they spotted the buggy. Sarah braced herself as best she could as they started running toward the buggy. If the horse bolted, the buggy could flip—

“Whoa, boy.” Oscar neatly pulled back on the reins and the horse slowed, acting as if it didn’t even notice the rowdy children.

Sarah let out a shaky breath. Oscar hopped to the ground and reached up for her waist, lifting her down as if she weighed next to nothing. When he pressed her satchel into her hands, their fingers tangled. She looked up at him, aware that he was too close, his eyes saw too much.

“I told you, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

But the reality was that she wasn’t sure she could believe him.

* * *

Oscar watched several emotions cross Sarah’s expressive face. He wouldn’t have seen her struggle in the dim twilight, except for how close they were.

He continued to be struck by her beauty. This close, he could see the spray of freckles that dusted her pert nose. He had the insane urge to lean forward and steal a kiss, but could still hear his ma’s voice reprimanding him for the kiss he’d stolen from Sarah’s sister all those years ago. And he didn’t particularly think Sarah wanted his kiss. Besides, the Allen kids were closing in on them, loud and raucous.

He released Sarah as the youngsters clambered toward them, then turned to unhitch Pharaoh from the buggy.

“Miss Sarah, Pa said not to save your supper if you was too late,” the oldest boy, Junior, said. His voice carried across the yard, he was so loud. And he was almost gloating with his announcement.

“Ma tried to save you some, but Pa seemed kinda upset and wouldn’t let her,” Ham, the younger son, added quietly.

A glance at Sarah’s face revealed her expression had tightened and lips clamped down.

Oscar kept unbuckling the harness, stuffing down the flare of anger at the boss’s order. The man had called the school board meeting with Sarah in the first place, then penalized her for having to take the time to complete her day’s tasks?

“I’ll see if Cookie can make up two plates of grub. He always holds some for the hands who come in late.” Oscar couldn’t defend the prickly schoolteacher to Allen’s face, not when he needed to keep his job. He still needed the money for his stallion. But he could make sure she got fed.

“I can’t eat in the mess,” she murmured. “It’s not proper.”

“Well, then...maybe tonight’s a chance for you to get to know my mare a little better. We can eat in the barn.”

Oscar turned in time to see Sarah wrinkle her nose, but Ham came closer and so did the teen girl, Barbara.

“Are you gonna help the horseman?” the girl asked breathlessly.

The older boy lost interest and wandered off toward the corral.

Sarah frowned at him, but Oscar shrugged at her and began to lead the horse off. “It’s either that or go hungry, Miss Schoolteacher.”

He gave the gelding a good rubdown and put the animal in its stall. Stopped to dunk his head in a barrel of rainwater to freshen up, then begged off two plates of grub from Cookie. The man raised a bushy brow, but didn’t comment.

When Oscar returned to the barn, he found Sarah hesitating in the large double doorway with two children still tagging along.

Her raised chin challenged him to comment, but he only smiled at her and tilted his head to urge her inside.

She froze well before the mare’s stall. The children didn’t seem to notice, rushing ahead of Oscar.

“Here.” Oscar handed the food to Sarah. “Stay outside,” he called to the children, who obeyed but peered curiously over the planks that kept the horse inside its enclosure.

Oscar ducked into the stall and maneuvered the empty barrel he’d used before out into the barn proper, nudging aside the planks as he needed to.

“Don’t let her out here!” Sarah cried.

Oscar looked over his shoulder. The horse hadn’t moved a bit. He winked at Sarah as he pushed the barrel into place just outside the stall door. He put the planks back in place, then pushed a bale of hay across the floor next to it. Still well outside of the compartment.

Returning to Sarah, he took her elbows and gently drew her forward to perch on the bale of hay, facing the stall. The children settled next to her, one on each side. He rested on the barrel and took one of the plates from Sarah.

She didn’t move, only stared down at the plate before her. He wanted to jar her out of her fear, but how?

“Mr. Horseman, where’d you get this horse, anyway?” the young boy asked. “She sure ain’t very pretty, is she?”

Oscar nudged the tip of Sarah’s practical shoe with his boot, finally getting her to look up at him. Her face was white. What could he say to break her concentration on the horse?

“You can’t judge a horse just by how she looks. Maybe she is a little long in the tooth...”

Aha. That got her attention as she graced him with a scathing look. He grinned. She turned her face back toward her plate, but this time she took the fork and scooped up a bite of baked beans.

“But maybe she’s got a beautiful gait. Or can rustle up a herd of cows faster than you can snap your fingers. A horse is much more than what color her coat is.”

Sarah’s eyes flickered to his, held for a moment, then darted down, hiding behind a veil of golden lashes.

“What do you plan to do with this horse?” Barbara asked. “She doesn’t look like she’s built for racing.”

“The man I bought her from wanted to use her for farming and such, but he hadn’t trained her well and wasn’t very kind to her. That’s why she’s so skittish now.”

Oscar looked over his shoulder at the mare. Sometime while they’d been talking, she’d moved one step closer to the planks and the edge of the stall. She seemed cautious, but curious about the voices coming from outside her stall.

“But I think she’ll made a good saddle horse, for the right rider,” Oscar finished, returning his gaze to Sarah, who met his eyes squarely this time.

She nodded once, and he knew she was agreeing to his plan, agreeing to help him with the horse. Suddenly, the barn door slammed open, banging against the outer wall.

“Sarah!” Allen’s voice bellowed.

The horse backed up in its stall, bobbing its head and neighing its agitation at the loud interruption.

Sarah jumped, and Oscar quickly moved between her and the horse, standing steady and tall in case the mare decided to kick out.

Allen rushed into the barn, gaze scanning and breathing rapidly.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Allen?” Oscar asked, bringing the man’s attention to their little grouping.

Allen’s face showed his surprise. But at what? Finding Oscar and Sarah together or finding his children present? “Where have you been?” the older man demanded.

“After our meeting, I had to clean up the schoolroom.” Sarah glanced over her shoulder, but by some miracle, the mare was standing still in her stall—not exactly calm, but at least not rearing.

Oscar touched beneath Sarah’s elbow. Letting her know he was here.

“And then Mr. White was kind enough to escort me home, since it was nearly dark.”

“Where have you been since then? The Lost Hollow schoolteacher must be above reproach, and if you’ve been dallying with—”

Oscar interrupted before the man could go on and disparage Sarah or her reputation. “I hope you’re not suggesting Sarah did anything wrong. Your kids were kind enough to tell her supper hadn’t been held, and I got Cookie to share some of the grub. Can’t let our schoolteacher go hungry, now can we? And your kids were keeping us company while we ate.” Oscar purposely kept his voice cool, though his temper was flaring. He was tired of the way Allen treated Sarah. But if Oscar lost his temper, he wouldn’t do anyone any good.

The older man’s eyes flashed. But with his young son at his side, gripping his hand, and his daughter looking on, he couldn’t exactly accuse Sarah of impropriety, not when they’d witnessed the entire exchange over supper.

“One step out of line...” the man threatened with a last glare at Sarah, then spun and stormed out of the barn, his children following, though the girl threw a sad look over her shoulder.

“I’d better go,” Sarah said, voice subdued and face downturned.

Oscar squeezed her elbow gently. “I’ll get your satchel.”

He carried the bag for her across the yard, not relinquishing it until they reached the porch, where they could stand in full view of the lit windows or anyone in the yard or corral could see them. He hated that the upbeat moments between them had been destroyed.

“What’s he got against you?” he asked her quietly.

“He doesn’t like anyone to contradict him,” came her near-silent answer. “He’s got it in his head he doesn’t want me helping the Caldwell girls.”

“What about his wife? How can she let him treat you like he does?”

Sarah just shrugged, still not looking at him.

“I’m helping that family just as much as you are.”

“Yes, but he needs you. He talked you up so much around town before you got here that if he fires you everyone will want to know why. He won’t come outright and say what he’s got against the Caldwells and he doesn’t want to ruin his own reputation.”

Oscar shook his head. “It’s not right.”

She looked over his shoulder, not really looking him in the face. “At least you’re doing something for them, when I can’t.”

“You might feel out some of the ladies around town or from the church. Yesterday I noticed there was hardly a stitch of clothing in that cabin, and winter’s coming on. The girls need some new dresses, coats. If you can get the women behind you, maybe you
can
do something more.”

Her shoulders lifted briefly and then dropped. “They might not be willing to cross their husbands. But I’ll try.”

She slipped inside before he could say a proper goodbye.

He didn’t like the fact that he had to finish working with Allen’s colt, but Oscar needed the money. And now he felt as if he couldn’t leave without seeing this situation through. He couldn’t walk away from Sarah, who was only trying to do a good thing for those girls, when she was at that tyrant’s mercy.

But what happened when his time with Allen’s colt was up?

Chapter Six

T
hree days later, Oscar cleared the breakfast dishes from the table as Susie and Cecilia rushed out the door to head for school. Velma toddled after them with a toothy grin, then banged on the closed door once they’d skedaddled.

Caldwell scooted his chair back from the table with a scrape of wooden legs against the plank floor. “Good breakfast. Didn’t know a cowboy could cook.”

Oscar dropped the dishes into the soapy tub of hot water, and began rolling up his sleeves as the other man didn’t appear concerned about cleanliness. Caldwell seemed a bit more settled since Oscar had moved into the barn. The other man hadn’t visited the saloon that Oscar knew of and had attempted to work on the outside chores. But it bothered Oscar that he didn’t seem to care much for the girls.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar said. “Listen, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Have you noticed that the girls’ dresses are getting real short? And I couldn’t find any shoes for Cecilia, or coats, either.”

Caldwell’s shoulders tensed and his mouth turned down, but Oscar went on.

“If you’ve got a few dollars, I can run into town and get what the girls need.”

The man shook his head, stuffing his hat onto his head and heading toward the door. “Ain’t got no money.”

“Well, what about credit? Will the general store grant you enough to get some necessities? They can’t go all winter—”

Caldwell didn’t seem to be listening as he snapped his suspenders and turned for the door. He shook his head. “That old man won’t grant me a nickel.”

Oscar wasn’t terribly surprised. If Caldwell spent any measure of time at the local saloon, likely his funds wouldn’t cover all his bills and other proprietors tended to know things like that. But the girls
did
need winter clothes.

“But—” Oscar’s protest was cut off as the man slammed out of the cabin.

Although Caldwell hadn’t touched a bottle since Oscar had arrived a couple of evenings ago, he had to have gotten the money for that previous binge somewhere....

Oscar finished the dishes while Velma played on the floor and then delivered the little gal to her stepfather, who was lazily digging the last of the potatoes from the small garden plot—something that should’ve been done weeks ago. Oscar couldn’t imagine that the tubers would be very tasty, but at least the man was working.

Cecilia and Susie and Velma needed more than their stepfather could give. How could Oscar make the man see the light? He didn’t know, but he was determined that they wouldn’t be without the things they needed for the winter.

* * *

After the school day had ended, Sarah was sweeping out the classroom when the children playing outside went silent.

“Knock knock,” called a familiar voice. The horseman.

Sarah went still as his bootsteps climbed the rickety steps. She hadn’t seen him since the other night when Mr. Allen had threatened her job and questioned her character. She’d been embarrassed for him to make those accusations in front of the horseman.

But she’d also been conscious that if his children hadn’t been present, his accusations would have been spot on. She was attracted to the horseman, and although he only seemed concerned about the Caldwell girls, if they were together alone the town could spread gossip about them.

“You doin’ okay today, Miss Schoolteacher?”

She found a smile as he filled the doorway, then moved to put the broom away and went behind her desk. Without waiting to be invited, he came inside and leaned casually against one of the far student desks.

Behind him, she saw moving shadows in the open doorway. Probably some of her students wanted a tidbit of gossip about the schoolteacher and the horseman.

“I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

The side of his mouth pulled in a half smile at her greeting. It didn’t seem to bother him that she wasn’t as welcoming as she might’ve been.

“I thought I’d escort the girls home and it gave me an excuse to come in and see you.”

Aware of the flush rising in her face, she shuffled a pile of papers on the corner of her desk into better order, then focused on lining up several small pieces of chalk in order of size. Anything was better than facing the man, who seemed to bring out the schoolgirl in her. Which was ridiculous, because she was nearly a spinster.

“I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to make it into town to see about rustling up some clothes—” He looked over his shoulder as something banged in the vestibule. When he looked back at her, his brows were raised. “To talk to some of the ladies about the project we’d talked about?”

Sarah’s heart swelled with his intuitiveness and compassion. He’d figured out that there were children listening at the door. Children who could be cruel if they found something—like a lack of appropriate clothing—to pick on in another child. And he’d found a way to communicate with her that the children wouldn’t understand.

Sarah swallowed against the sudden thickness in her throat. “I’ve been buried under writing this new script for the play. I haven’t had time.”

“Good.”

She raised her brows at his satisfied answer.

“I’ll escort you into town on Saturday. You can call on some of the ladies and we’ll have a chance to talk.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised one brow. Did he realize how high-handed he sounded?

“Plus, you agreed to help me with my mare.”

“I did not.” Although she had intended to before Mr. Allen had burst in and ruined their camaraderie. “But I might consider accompanying you on Saturday if you should
ask.
”

His teeth flashed in a grin. “I’ll pick you up midmorning and you can instruct me on my deficiencies the whole way into town.”

She narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t find it in her to be perturbed at his teasing. She’d known before now that he couldn’t be serious. “Fine.” She began gathering her books and notes strewn across the desk. “How are things going for you and Mr. Caldwell?”

He glanced over his shoulder briefly and back at her meaningfully. “Things seem to be all right for now. We can talk more on Saturday.”

Sarah stuffed things into her satchel and moved toward the door, allowing Oscar to escort her through and close the door behind. The children, mostly girls, scattered at their exit, murmuring and giggling. No doubt they would be sure to tell their parents this evening. Tongues would be wagging in every home in Lost Hollow.

But would any of the gossips spare a thought for three little girls who needed help?

* * *

Saturday dawned bright and unseasonably warm. Although it had taken her several late nights of working by candlelight into the wee hours, Sarah had finished a new script for the pageant. She’d also been compiling a mental list of the children she would assign to each part and the mothers she could call on today.

But those calls weren’t the reason she had taken extra care on her hair or chosen the one dress she had that most flattered her figure.

No, the horseman was behind her increased pulse and the slight flush in her cheeks.

And it was incredibly silly. He wasn’t courting her. He was helping her with a project. And she wouldn’t welcome him if he were courting her. She didn’t want a cowboy interested in her. Didn’t want someone reckless and careless.

So why then was her heart pounding, knowing he was coming for her? He was probably on his way right now.

She needed to get ahold of herself. Needed to be realistic. Sarah thumped the hairbrush she’d been holding onto the end of her mattress and forced herself to sit at the desk wedged into the corner of the room.

With Barbara already out doing chores, Sarah was alone. Thank goodness for small favors. She didn’t want the curious girl telling her father what Sarah was up to.

She opened the newspaper she’d tussled with Oscar over and skimmed to the two ads she’d circled in pencil. One man from Montana and one from Colorado. Her heart thundered for another reason as she contemplated writing an answering letter to one or both of these gentlemen. Did she dare?

Did she have a choice? She wanted to be married, wanted to start a family of her own. None of the respectable, available businessmen in Lost Hollow seemed interested. With Sarah’s involvement with the Caldwell girls, it seemed less likely than ever that one of the men in town would want to court her.

Being a mail-order bride was the only option for her if she wanted to marry, unless she relocated. And with her limited funds, relocation was a risk. She’d prayed and prayed about it and the answer still didn’t seem clear. She just knew she wanted to get married. Answering a marriage advertisement might be her only chance.

Before she could change her mind, Sarah took out a blank sheet of stationary and penned a short note expressing her interest in obtaining more information about one of the prospective grooms. She found an envelope and addressed it, intending to post it between one of her calls in town.

As she stood and slipped the letter in her dress pocket, movement outside the window drew her gaze. Sitting tall in the buggy seat, with that beat-up brown Stetson perched on his head, there was no mistaking the identity of her caller.

Sarah hurried out of the house, only to find her boss and his wife standing on the porch.

Oscar approached, tipping his hat off his head. His hair was matted with sweat, as if he’d already put in hours of work, though it was only midmorning. His chambray shirt heightened the breadth of his wide shoulders and Sarah’s pulse began to dance, even after the talk she’d given herself inside.

“Morning, Mr. Allen. Mrs. Allen.” He paused, too-sharp gaze taking in Sarah’s dress and her cheeks that were now flushing with heat at his appraisal. “Sarah.”

Mr. Allen crossed his arms over his chest. “Going for a drive? Miss Hansen, do I need to remind you that your character must remain at the highest standard?”

Oscar opened his mouth, but before he could say anything—in defense of her or denial—Mrs. Allen broke in.

“Oh, Paul. Let Sarah enjoy an outing with a charming young man. She’s never done anything to make you question her before.”

Sending a grateful look at the woman who rarely dared speak out to her husband, Sarah hurried down the steps before Mr. Allen could protest any further. Oscar matched her stride across the yard to the buggy, where she hesitated when she saw the mare tied behind the cart.

Oscar raised his brow at her, as if daring her to return to the house. She accompanied him the last few steps.

“You’re sure she won’t be a danger—bolt or rear or turn the buggy?” Sarah murmured as he boosted her up into the seat.

“Not really,” he answered as they came face-to-face. Then he settled her on the seat, giving her another of those half smiles and rounding the front of the buggy before she could protest.

“You look nice today.” He turned the buggy easily out of the Allens’ yard and into the two-rutted lane toward town.

“Thank you.” She fidgeted with her hands in her lap. She glanced over her shoulder to see the mare following the buggy placidly. “How is the Caldwell place shaping up?”

“All right. I don’t think Caldwell has been at the bottle again since I’ve been there. He hasn’t really talked to me, but the toddler has been happy and the girls have seemed more settled. I did ask him about money for getting the girls clothes but he claimed he didn’t have an extra dollar.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well, Cecilia can’t continue much longer without shoes, even if we’ve been having a particularly mild autumn. And they both need winter coats. Pray that today will be successful and someone will offer to help.”

“How’ve the children been in class? And your plans for the pageant?”

“Would you believe my worst pupil is Junior Allen?”

Oscar’s huff seemed to indicate his agreement.

“He’s restless and spoiled—his father refuses to believe he could do better in school if he would apply himself. And he tries to show off for the other boys, his friends, and causes trouble in the classroom.”

Oscar nodded. “I knew a boy like that in my school days.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “I had you figured for that boy.”

He grinned at her but shook his head. “Maybe before Jonas got ahold of me, but he would’ve skinned me alive if I had caused trouble. My brothers Mattie and Ricky, though...”

“You sound as if you miss your brothers. Will you be traveling home for the Thanksgiving holiday this weekend?”

She, for one, was looking forward to an extra day without the schoolchildren. Although she’d gotten the script worked out for the pageant, there was much still to be done and without the children underfoot, she could try to catch up.

He shook his head, face gone serious. “I’ve got too much to do with Allen’s colt. Making good progress, but I’m hoping to be back to my place before Christmas. I’ve got this little cabin built and my horses are just waiting for me....”

“It sounds nice.”

“It is. Just a two-room cabin, but it’s on the lee side of a hill, surrounded by pine forest and real quiet. Got a barn and a little corral, and it’s all mine and mine alone.”

The arrangement sounded lovely, but what about his family? Why was he so thrilled about being alone?

“What about you? Picked out a husband yet?”

She flushed, a wave of heat sliding up her neck and into her face.

“What’s that blush for?” He nudged her elbow in the close confines of the buggy seat. “You sent a letter?”

She didn’t answer.

“Sending one today? Ah. Was it the man with six children?”

The meddlesome man! Couldn’t he leave it alone? Even if he was joking, it wasn’t any of his business.

“All right, you won’t tell me. I thought I’d drop you in town for your visits and we could meet for lunch at say...noon?”

“Fine,” she said. “At the hotel dining room?”

“No, I’ve got something else in mind.”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer as they turned onto Lost Hollow’s main thoroughfare and he pulled the buggy up against the boardwalk beside the bank.

“I’ll pick you up right here.” He took her waist in his broad hands and lifted her down. “I hope your calls go well.”