His Errant Educator (Willamette Wives Book 3) (7 page)

"Where's Robert?" Richard asked, the large roast over one shoulder and the box of preserves in his arms.

"He's out hitching the wagon but will pop in before making his rounds. Oh, I'm so glad you could come! I kept praying the snow melt hadn't made the road unpassable."

"It was a little muddy in places but it is so nice to get away for a bit, and it's awfully sweet of you to put us up," Charity said.

"We're thrilled to have you," Harriett assured her. "Richard, you can put those down in the kitchen and take your things upstairs. The first room on the left. I've put Charity and James across the hall." Turning, she addressed Agatha. "I've invited your mother to come stay as well, but she insists she's fine in her own room at the Goldmans'. You and Wyatt will be in the last room on the right, and Roger and Matthew can share the room right off the kitchen."

"Thank you. I'm sure Ma wants to make sure she doesn't miss a day of work," Agatha said. "I worry that she is over extending herself."

"I don't think you need to fret," Harriett said. "Catherine seems as happy as a chicken on a grasshopper every time we have a meal at the restaurant." Motioning for her guests to take seats around the large kitchen table, she continued. "She's not only happy, it seems she's found her calling. Goodness, Goldman's hasn't an empty chair most nights. Your ma is quite the cook." Waiting until the men disappeared up the stairs with several valises in hand, she turned again to the women.

"And, might I say that ever since Catherine has been here, a certain restaurant owner hasn't stopped smiling."

"Really?" Anna said, clapping her hands together. "That's wonderful! I just told her that she is so sweet that men would be drawn to her like a bee to honey."

"I'm sure Ma is just being polite," Agatha said, her smile dimming just the slightest. "After all, she has to be friendly to keep that job. I don't know why she insists on earning her own money. She doesn't need to, and I'd much rather she just come and live on the ranch."

"Maybe Mr. Goldman is just pleased that he finally has some good help," Charity offered. "I remember Roger telling us that Teresa is constantly talking about being a schoolmarm. He needs good help if she gets the job and can't work in the restaurant anymore."

"That's true," Harriett said, "but I've got eyes. I'm telling you, there is more than cooking going on in that kitchen."

***

Everyone turned to see Robert entering the room. Harriett jumped up and prepared him a cup of coffee as he greeted their guests.

"Are you still going out to the Colbys'?" she asked, pressing the mug into his hands.

"Yes, it's either that or I'm afraid he'll break another bone," Robert said, accepting a cinnamon roll and dunking it into his coffee before taking a bite.

"What happened?" Anna asked. "Reverend Jorgensen stopped by the other day and said they had a new baby but he didn't mention any broken bones. Poor little guy."

"Poor big guy, you mean," Robert corrected. "Clayton broke his arm falling out of the hay loft. He twisted his back, as well."

"Oh no, how is he?"

"Stubborn as a mule," Robert said, shaking his head. "The man busted his arm, and yet the entire time I'm trying to stabilize it, he's grumbling about how he doesn't have time to sit around; that he has chores to attend. I only got him to swear to stay in bed with a promise that I'd pick up an order for Margaret at the mercantile."

"How can we help?" Richard asked.

"How do you feel about chopping wood?" Robert's question had Charity giggling, and James standing to first bend and press a kiss to the top of her blonde head before answering the question.

"I guess you can say I'm quite experienced at that." His admission had the others laughing, all remembering the cords and cords of wood he'd chopped and stacked during the weeks immediately following his youngest daughter's difficult birth. While refusing to leave his family's side, he'd fussed around the house until Charity threatened to skin him alive. It had taken a friendly intervention to return things to normal at their cabin—well, that and a nice hard spanking for his wife, who'd actually begged for one.

"I'm sure that, between us, we can get enough done to convince Clarence his place won't fall apart if he gives himself time to heal," Wyatt said.

"I know Margaret would sure appreciate the help," Robert said as the men began to pull on their coats, and the women began to help Harriett pack a basket with the remaining rolls, some of the preserves, and a portion of the roast they'd brought.

"This should keep them for a while," Harriett said, passing the basket to Wyatt. "You tell her that the ladies from the church will be out soon to visit and bring some more food. It's hard enough with a new baby and three other children underfoot. It has to be driving her insane hearing Clarence grumble and moan."

Richard grinned as he gave Anna a kiss. "And I thought you ladies would be sympathetic."

"Oh, we're sympathetic," Anna said, and giggled when her next words were said in unison with the other women as they all shouted, "towards Margaret!"

"Ouch!" Anna yelped.

"Be good," Richard said with a shake of his head.

"Of course," Anna said, earning herself a quirked eyebrow and the need to dance to the side to avoid another swat. Giggling, she batted long black lashes over emerald green eyes. "I meant, yes, sir."

"I'm sure you did," Richard said, accepting another parcel containing sandwiches he and the others could share for lunch before leaving the warm room full of giggles to join the others.

A few hours later, no one seemed surprised when Roger kept looking back towards town. "Just go, before you chop off a finger," Matthew said, reaching out to take the axe from him.

"No, I want to help," Roger insisted, bending down to reset the log he'd been trying to chop into kindling but only managing to nick it, causing it to fall off the cutting block.

"You've helped," Richard said. "Go on, we'll be right behind you."

"Well, if you're sure." Not waiting for an answer, he mounted his horse, and the others watched him ride away.

"I told you, women ain't nothing but trouble," Matthew groused as he swung the axe, cleaving the log in two.

"Just you wait," Wyatt said. "One day you'll be eating those words." The married men chuckled as Matthew just scowled, setting another log onto the block. They did understand. After all, they had found the loves of their lives and remembered how it felt to be separated for any length of time. Not a one begrudged the younger man time spent courting his own love.

Roger entered the restaurant, not surprised to find it practically empty, as he'd arrived after lunch and before supper. Only an older couple was seated at one of the tables, their steaming cups indicating they were in no hurry to finish their meal and go back out into the cold. He nodded and smiled, tipping his hat to the woman. As he removed his coat and bent to drape it across the back of a chair, he jumped like a jack rabbit when a crash came from the direction of the kitchen.

"Goodness," the woman said, startling in her chair as another screech and the sound of something breaking was heard.

"Tessa, are you all right?" Roger yelled, practically knocking the chair over in his haste to assure himself that his love was unhurt. His flight didn't slow when, instead of hearing her sweet assurance that she was fine, he heard a very vulgar word and another yelp. Ignoring the looks passing between the couple, and not caring that he wasn't either the owner or an employee of the establishment, he pushed through the door only to freeze at the sight before him.

Apparently his sweet little gal was in danger… not any real physical danger, but definitely in danger of losing her status as an angel. Actually, it was a bit hard to discern exactly where Teresa ended and her sister, Barbara, began. The two girls were locked arm-in-arm, hands flying to grab anything and everything to smash onto the other's face or body. The floor was covered in white, and it wasn't from snow having been tromped inside. Ingredients that belonged either in a cake or another recipe continued to fly. Flour, sugar, baking powder… all were being mixed, but not in a bowl. No, instead, what appeared to be crushed berries of the same kind were splattered on the floor, along with the broken shards of a ceramic bowl.

"Whoa! Hold up!" Roger said, stepping quickly across the large space. "Girls, stop before someone gets hurt!"

Both girls ignored him, and he barely missed being hit by the next missile flung. The egg flew past him.

"Oh, my… oh…"

He looked to see Catherine standing in the door of her room, her eyes wide with shock. Yellow egg yolk was sliding down the bib of the white apron she wore as she took in the mayhem. When something flying too fast to be recognized almost hit her again, causing her to jerk, she gave a surprised cry. Roger had had enough.

"Stop!" he bellowed. Even he was a bit shocked when his demand did absolutely nothing to quiet what he could only consider to be a brawl. Shaking his head, he moved to grab the first body part within reach, slipping on some red goo on the floor. Regaining his balance, he reached out and snagged an arm, beginning to tug. "Enough!"

"Let me go!" Teresa yelled.

"No, let go of Barbara!" Roger countered, ducking when a free hand came within an inch of his cheek. "Now!"

"No! She started it!"

"I did not! You did!"

"Ladies, we can discuss this like adults if… Damn it!" Any patience he'd had fled when a booted foot connected with his shin. "That's enough! Stop it now before I have to turn you both over my knees and give you a thrashing!"

"You take Teresa, I'll get Barbara."

Roger turned his head to see that the girls' father had entered the room. He wasn't sure if the man was agreeing that the girls needed a good thrashing, but had to admit the older man didn't look the least bit pleased. His next words confirmed Roger's thoughts.

"I've just about had it with you two." He grabbed his youngest daughter around her waist, leaving room for Roger to get a better grip on Teresa. "What in the tarnation is wrong with you? Look at this mess!"

"It's her fault," both girls stated at the exact same time, only to then glare at each other as they were forcibly separated.

"I don't give a hoot whose fault it is; this is the third time this week I've had to pull you out of some cat fight. Your shenanigans are scaring off customers! What did I tell you would happen if you didn't start treating each other kindly?"

Roger saw Teresa roll her eyes and give a huff. He figured he had a very good idea exactly what her pa had promised the girls, and knew that neither one believed he'd actually follow through with his threat.

Evidently Ben understood the exact same thing. He shook his head. "I guess I can't say I'm surprised you ignored my warnings but I was serious. This behavior has got to stop. Both of you—out to the shed." When neither made a move, he pointed to the door. "Now!" His roar had both girls jumping and their eyes widening as they gazed at him, each other, and then back at their pa.

"No, Pa!" Teresa said, finally finding her voice.

"What did you say to me, young lady?"

"I-I mean, you… you can't!"

"Can't what?"

Roger could tell that Teresa didn't want to explain her statement, and could also tell that her pa wasn't the least bit concerned about her hesitancy. When she didn't speak, her face turning the color of the beets he could see sitting in a basket on the table, Benjamin spoke for her.

"Thrash you?"

"Pa!"

"Don't you 'pa' me, young lady. I'm sick of lecturing you. I've been far too lenient lately but that stops now. You've been warned time and time again. Now, get going, or you'll find yourself unable to sit comfortably for a week."

Teresa turned to look at Roger, her eyes large in a face that was covered in flour. "Roger, please, you… you can't…"

He wondered why she'd even question him. He'd just informed her that the next time she was naughty, there would be actual consequences to be paid—consequences that would turn her bottom hot. Roger knew it was time to make his own point about discipline quite clear. Placing a finger beneath her chin to keep her eyes on his, he said, "I'm quite sure that you must know that not only am I displeased with your behavior, I totally agree with your pa. After all, we discussed this last week."

"What? How could you? I mean, he wants to sp… I'm a grown woman!"

"I'm afraid I didn't see a grown woman a moment ago. No, I saw a little girl and her sister throwing one doozie of a tantrum. And, young lady, correct me if I'm wrong, but did I hear your pa state he's already had to repeatedly warn you to behave this week?"

"But… she started it!" Teresa said stubbornly, jerking her chin from his hold and twisting again to point her finger at Barbara. "All I was doing was making a cake, and Barbara—"

"That's a lie!" Barbara interrupted, pointing her own finger. "You were doing it all wrong. Everyone knows you can't just throw everything in bowl at the same time. I was only trying to help…"

"The ingredients all wind up in the same pan to bake! Besides, how did it help when you jerked the bowl away from me right when I started adding the preserves? Hmmm? Now they are all over the floor! All your helping did was make a huge mess!"

"Enough! This idiocy will stop now! The next one of you to utter a single word gets extra! Go!" Benjamin said, and this time it was his finger doing the pointing. His release of his daughter's arm signaled that Roger should do the same. It still took the two women a moment before they realized they were free. Two heads turned back to their pa, eyes imploring for mercy and yet mouths remaining closed. Remembering how it had felt to be the subject of his own father's unwanted attention when he was a lad, Roger could well understand their demeanor. He watched, hiding his smile when the two began to walk towards the back door, not failing to notice that once they'd donned their cloaks for the short walk to the shed, they slipped their hands into one another's before leaving the scene of their crime.

"I'm so sorry," Catherine said. She'd been so still and so silent that Roger had completely forgotten she was there.

"Nothing for you to be sorry about, Catherine. It's I who must apologize. I don't know what's gotten into those girls." Benjamin's steps paused as he moved towards her. "What is that?"

Catherine looked down at where he was pointing and gasped. "An egg?" Hearing his growl, she quickly added, "I'm sure they didn't mean to hit me. Oh, our customers! I was going to refill their cups…" She took a step towards the stove, picking up the coffee pot, but Ben reached out and took her arm.

"They left, and with this ruckus, who could blame them?" Taking the coffee pot from her and setting it back down on the stove, he asked, "Are you sure you aren't hurt?"

"No, no, I'm fine." Moving towards the corner where the broom was leaning up against the wall, she again found her arm taken.

"No, not this time. The girls will clean up their own messes from now on."

"Ben, I don't mind. It won't take me any time at all…"

"Catherine, I said no," Benjamin said. "I didn't hire you to clean up after my girls." He took the broom from her only to watch as her hands fluttered, as if unaccustomed to being empty.

"But it is my job," Catherine muttered softly. Roger felt like an intruder but didn't move, not wishing to interfere. He was a bit surprised to hear them addressing each other so informally. Watching their exchange, he hid a smile. Evidently, while he'd been courting Ben's eldest daughter, the man had begun his own courting. He'd been aware that Catherine had been one of the many pioneers making the arduous trip west, but hadn't really spoken to her. She was most often standing or working quietly in the background, not interacting with the other travelers. When the events surrounding her supposed marriage had become clear, he'd better understood her reticence to make friends. Wallace had done his best to break her down, and yet, with the truth of his trickery revealed and his death, Roger had watched the woman blossom. He certainly couldn't blame Ben for being attracted to her, as she was a beautiful woman. And, after all, both might be older than he, but they still had a lot of life ahead of them. Benjamin's next statement had him understanding that they might be further along the path of courtship than he imagined.

"I've evidently been far too remiss in my duties as their pa. It's time they remember that there are consequences for their actions, unpleasant as those consequences might be." Roger watched as the older man shook his head when Catherine again attempted to apologize for the girls.

"Catherine, can you honestly say that you don't agree those girls need a thrashing?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then please do as I ask and let me do my job. I'd hate to have to send you to the shed, as well."

Roger watched as Agatha's mother's face flushed. He held his breath, a bit amazed that the woman wasn't running from the building. It was a well-known fact that the man she'd thought she'd legally wed, Wallace Thompson, hadn't hesitated to treat her unkindly. While Roger didn't have any of the specific details, he was still a bit surprised that she simply nodded.

"I'm sorry. You're right."

"That's better," Benjamin said, reaching behind her to deftly untie the sash around her waist in order to remove the stained apron. He gave her a quick hug. "You go read or just rest for a bit. After I tend to the girls and they tend to the kitchen, you can come back. Not until then, you hear?"

Despite her acquiesce, Roger could see the uncertainty in the woman's expression as Catherine looked around the room. "I bet Agatha would love to have you visit," he offered, happy to see Catherine's instant smile. "She and the others are over at Doc Williams'."

"That's a wonderful idea," Benjamin said. "Why don't you go visit your daughter, and I'll come get you when the kitchen is clean?"

"If you're sure," Catherine said.

"I'm sure."

"I'd be glad to walk you over," Roger offered.

"No, I'd prefer you remain here," Benjamin said for her. "I'll walk Catherine down, and then we can have a little chat ourselves when I get back." When Roger couldn't help but glance towards the door through which the girls had disappeared, the older man chuckled.

"Believe me, it might have been a while, but I haven't forgotten that having to wait a bit to pay for naughtiness makes the lesson all that more profound when it's delivered. I owe you an apology, son. You had the right idea the other day, and I just didn't want to face the fact that I've allowed my daughters to become so unruly."

"No apology needed, sir."

"Yes, it's needed. Tell me, are you serious about my Teresa?"

"I'm quite serious, sir," Roger said with absolutely sincerity. "In fact, I was hoping to have a discussion with you."

"Good. I'll be back and we can have that talk."

The two left, leaving Roger alone in the kitchen. It appeared that fate had decided that the discussion he'd been practicing for during the past several weeks would be held a few hours earlier than he'd planned. Grinning, he had to admit that though the girls had certainly made a mess, their tantrum had created an opportunity he was not going to miss.