Lacy Williams (5 page)

Sarah raised one brow. The excitement in his voice and the sparkle in his eyes had had her interested. Right up until he’d said “horse.”

“Would you consider helping me gentle her?”

Sarah was shaking her head before he’d finished speaking. “No. Absolutely not.”

“But she’s responded to you—”

“I have no interested in helping you with that—that beast.” Sarah was shaking just thinking about it.

“I know you’re scared—”

She glared at him and he went silent. “I think I have a right to be a bit nervous around that animal after it nearly ran me down.”

“It’s deeper than that,” he said quietly.

She blocked out the memories from her childhood, when she’d been trapped and frightened. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in a pathetic state.

They walked the rest of the way in awkward silence. She wished he would just ride on without her, but the stubborn man insisted on remaining at her side the entire way. As they entered the Allens’ yard, Sarah saw her boss standing on the porch, watching their every move.

If she thought he had any way of knowing she had visited the Caldwell place, she might’ve expected her boss to be angry. But he couldn’t know where she’d gone after school, could he?

He was obviously waiting for her, so she simply nodded a silent goodbye to Oscar and went to meet Mr. Allen.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“My afternoons are my own,” she replied softly, attempting to hold on to her patience as best she could. The man didn’t own her, even if he was her boss.

He crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing her with narrowed gaze. “The school board wishes to remind you of the upcoming Christmas pageant. We’d like to see your plans and a list of the children you expect to have speaking parts for our approval. And we also want to discuss the possibility of a new script.”

“The school board has left the pageant under my approval the past years,” she reminded him, keeping her voice low so he wouldn’t suspect how angry she was at his controlling maneuver. “And we’ve used the same lines for the past three years and never had complaints from parents or students.”

“Yes, but as there has been some suspect behavior in your classroom as of late, we’ve decided that we need to approve what you have in mind for this year.”

“Is this because of what happened with the Caldwell girls?” She gripped her fingers together until they pained her. She couldn’t afford to lose her temper with this man.

He didn’t answer directly, only stared at her until she knew she was right. The man had no compassion in his body. Couldn’t he understand that those girls needed help?

“We want you to get started immediately. It’s already coming up on Thanksgiving, so there’s not much time left for preparation.”

“I believe there’s plenty of time.”

“The school board is insistent.”

She knew what he really meant was
he
was insistent. He was trying to control her movements and limit how she could help the Caldwell girls. She didn’t know if he had a personal agenda against the family, or just wanted Sarah to bend to his will. Either way, it galled her.

“If you don’t heed the school board’s guidance for your classroom, we may have to think about getting a replacement for next year.”

She couldn’t believe he was serious. She’d done a good job for the Lost Hollow school. She’d had several parents comment on the improvement in their children’s learning. But he would remove her simply because he didn’t like her helping a family in need? Was it because of the girls’ parentage? Or was there something else?

His face said he would brook no argument. What could she say? She had little savings after supporting her sisters all these years. She needed the job, even though it pained her to have to agree.

“Excuse me. I need to wash for supper.” He barely moved aside to let her pass. Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how he’d upset her.

She would just have to discover another way to help the Caldwell girls, if her time would be limited by the pageant.

* * *

Oscar waited until Sarah had gone inside before approaching the older man on the porch. If he’d known Allen’s character before he’d agreed to train the man’s colt, he wouldn’t have taken the job. Probably.

He needed the money from this job for his stallion. He needed to remember his purpose here, not get distracted by a pretty face and those little girls. But their situation reminded him strongly of his own childhood, and the hurts his family had caused him.

He wouldn’t go back on his word. He’d train the colt, but he didn’t have to be happy about Allen treating Sarah the way he was.

“Got a minute, Mr. Allen? I’d like to talk to you about the colt.”

It was hard to tell since dusk was falling, but the man’s gaze seemed to be taking Oscar’s measure.

“I noticed you didn’t work with him this afternoon. Where were you?”

Oscar refused to be intimidated. He ignored the presumptive question. “He’s making great progress. Been on the long reins and I’m guessing he’ll be ready for a saddle in the next few days.”

The man nodded, posture easing slightly.

“Listen, I went over to the Caldwell place today. That family needs help.”

Allen’s shoulders tensed and a deep frown took the bottom half of his face. “That’s Caldwell’s problem. I hired you to train my horse and that’s what I expect you to do. Your responsibility is to me.”

He was almost bellowing now, but Oscar didn’t back down. “If I can help that family while I’m in town, I will.”

“You’ll be
here,
from breakfast to suppertime, working with my horse, or I’ll fire you. And spread the word that you backed out on your commitment to me. I’m sure that story will spread just as fast as your adventures do.”

The threat didn’t even make Oscar blink. The man had given him an opening, though it wasn’t much.

“That’s all I needed to know,” said Oscar steadily, then headed to the mess to find his supper.

Allen’s callous attitude was enough to anger, but it wasn’t the real reason Oscar felt the need to help out. He’d been forced to rely on the charity of his uncle for those few years of his childhood, and the man had never warmed to Oscar, never really cared about him. He refused to see three little girls suffer the same fate, not if he could help it.

Chapter Five

T
he next morning, Oscar went to the creek to wash up, like he usually did. He needed to speak to Sarah before she left for the schoolhouse. The answer he’d been looking for had come to him last night as he’d left Allen on the porch, but he needed her help to make it work.

And some part of him wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.

He’d just splashed his face with the bracingly cold water when he saw her. She sat on a plank swing hanging from a tree not far away, blond hair loose down her back, head bent.

The sight of her, the very beauty of the picture she presented caught his breath in his chest. Heat flushed through him, making him acutely aware of the cool drop of water that slid down his throat and beneath the collar of his shirt.

His feet took him toward her before he realized it, and he knocked his hat against his thigh. Nervous as a schoolboy.

She looked up and their eyes met and locked. He nodded a greeting, scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable as all get out with this new awareness of her. He knew she was pretty, but to see her like this...to know they were on the same side...

“I need to talk to you for a minute.”

She shook her head, the long blond strands slipping over her shoulder. She pushed them back into place, and Oscar swallowed hard.

“I don’t think we have anything further to say to each other,” she said as she avoided his gaze and began tucking her hair into a long braid down her back. His every thought fled. It seemed like such an intimate thing, to watch her fix her hair, even though they were outdoors, where anyone could see them, with murmuring cowboys not far away at the corral.

“You know—” His voice emerged strangled, hoarse, and he had to clear it before he could go on. “I heard what Allen said to you last night.”

Her cheeks pinked, but her fingers kept flying over the braid lengthening down her back.

“Are you sure his threat is valid? What about the other members of the school board?”

She shook her head slightly. “They follow Mr. Allen’s lead. They won’t disagree with him.”

“What’s his agenda against the Caldwells?”

“There’s some prejudice in this town against them for being half white. I don’t know if Mr. Allen’s disapproval of them stems from that, or something else.” Her voice was barely a sigh. Had she given up? She still wouldn’t look at him, so it was hard to tell her mood.

“I want to help, Sarah. I’ve got an idea, but it’s going to take some doing on both our parts.”

Now her chin lifted, those blue eyes considering him.

“What do you get out of it?” she asked suspiciously.

He didn’t want those little girls going through what he had as a child. It was that simple. But he doubted Sarah would understand. So he wouldn’t try to explain it to her.

* * *

Sarah had a hard time believing Oscar was sincere in wanting to help the girls. With the top button of his woolen shirt unbuttoned and his hair curling and damp around his face, it was hard to marshal her thoughts.

Why didn’t she think he really wanted to help?

He shifted his feet, bringing her attention to his powerful legs. She forced her gaze away, back to the Allens’ house.

“I know there’s no love lost between us,” Oscar said. He was certainly more serious this morning than she’d ever seen him. “But I think we can set aside our differences to help those little girls. Friends?”

He extended his hand to her. She considered it, considered him. Could she trust him?

He’d surprised her by working all day at the Caldwell place yesterday. And the gentle way he trained Mr. Allen’s horse hadn’t been what she expected.

He still irritated her like no other.

But she couldn’t help the Caldwell girls on her own, not with the demands Mr. Allen had put on her with the upcoming pageant.

With no other choice, she reluctantly slipped her fingers into Oscar’s. His warm dry grip surrounded her hand. His white teeth flashed in a smile that threatened to curl her toes, and she quickly reclaimed her hand, grasping the rope swing.

“What time will you be back from the schoolhouse?” he asked.

“I’ve got a meeting with the school board right after classes end. Then I’ll still need to clean up the classroom. I probably won’t make it home in time for supper.”

“Fine. I’ll come for you at the schoolhouse and escort you home.”

She started to protest, but he was already striding confidently toward the barn.

That man!

* * *

Oscar found Paul Allen in the yard, speaking to his foreman. When the men were done, Oscar quickly stepped forward to talk to the boss, nodding his hello.

“What’s this about?” Allen asked, eyes narrowed.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night. About me bein’ here from breakfast to suppertime to work with the colt.” How could Oscar phrase it best to try not to offend the man? Or play on the other man’s sensibilities? “I figure if I stay elsewhere I’ll save you a bunk and two meals a day—breakfast and supper. And be able to help out a friend in the meantime.”

Allen’s cheeks reddened beneath his hat. “And where might that be?”

“Caldwell’s.”

Allen crossed his arms. He did not look happy, but what could he say in the face of Oscar’s proposal—it would save him grub and Oscar would still be holding to the deal they’d struck to train the colt.

“If I were you, I’d be careful choosing my friends. A man like Caldwell doesn’t have many and there’s a reason for that.”

Oscar smiled, because he had the boss right where he wanted him. “I was talking about helping Sarah. She cares about her students and I’m glad to help her out.”

Allen’s eyes narrowed to slits. “She needs to be careful she’s looking out for the
right
students.”

The man’s audacity riled Oscar, but he worked to keep a neutral expression fixed on his face.

“I think she is. Good day,” said Oscar simply, and turned and walked toward the barn. He’d gotten what he wanted, and it made him more determined than ever to make this plan work.

* * *

That evening, Sarah furiously scrubbed the blackboard with a damp rag. It was silly to take out her frustration in this way, but the school board’s unrelenting stance on the Caldwell family—led by Paul Allen’s stubbornness—infuriated her. They refused to acknowledge that the family needed help, and they wouldn’t budge on their request for a completely new script for the Christmas pageant.

“You gonna scrub right through that poor, defenseless blackboard?”

A familiar male voice, laced with laughter, came from the doorway and Sarah whirled toward the horseman, one hand at her heart.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I told you I was coming to get you. You about ready to go?”

He leaned one brawny shoulder against the doorpost, hat tapping lazily against his thigh. His cavalier attitude was the last thing she needed right now when she was strung tight, with no idea how to help the Caldwell girls and her job under threat from a heartless school board.

Sarah turned back to the blackboard, this time careful to disguise her upset with smooth strokes. “I have things to finish up here. It won’t be the first time I’ve walked home in the dark.”

“I want to talk to you about the Caldwell girls and their father.”

She wasn’t sure she could talk about the situation without her anger prompting tears. “Perhaps we could speak tomorrow.”

Without warning, he clasped her hand, stilling her scrubbing. When he tugged the damp rag from her grasp, Sarah released it to him, prepared to insist he leave her alone. Except he turned and began washing the blackboard, nudging her aside with his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you.” He didn’t stop erasing the chalk marks left behind from today’s lessons.

“Why?”

Now he looked over his shoulder at her. And winked. “Because I’m hungry. The sooner you finish up, the sooner we can get going.”

Stubborn man. But if he wasn’t going to leave without her, she might as well attend to her other evening chores. She moved to the now-dead fire in the potbellied stove and used a stick to stir the cold ashes, then prepared the tinder for lighting first thing in the morning. The days were getting colder. It was one major reason she was concerned for the Caldwell girls. While Susie wore shoes—a scuffed pair, likely Cecilia’s hand-me-downs—Cecilia still came to the classroom each day with bare feet. Did their stepfather know she needed shoes? Could he even afford them?

By rote, Sarah finished setting the fire and moved to the broom, intending to sweep out the aisle and vestibule, where the children tended to track in the most dirt, but Oscar moved to take the broom from her and began the task.

“I guess your meeting didn’t go so well.”

He didn’t look at her, focusing on the broom in his hands.

She hummed an affirmative as she gathered the schoolbooks she wanted to take with her to review for tomorrow. Several of the children had seemed to have trouble with the arithmetic today, so she wanted to spend extra time on that lesson in the morning.

He mumbled something that sounded like, “that might be my fault,” but she couldn’t be sure. “Did they outright tell you not to help the Caldwells?” he asked.

“No.” She stuffed the books into her satchel, keeping her head down so he wouldn’t see the bitterness in her expression. “But they’ve made it nearly impossible. They’re insisting on a new script for the Christmas pageant, and between that and making backdrops and props and rehearsing with the children, I likely won’t have time to do much else.”

“Well, I’ve got a partial solution for you.”

She hefted her bag and watched him put the broom back into the small cupboard in the corner. They met near the front door, and he reached to take the satchel from her.

“I’ve got it.” She kept her voice soft this time. How could she be sharp with him when he’d helped her clean up the classroom—when he hadn’t had to?

“Blame my ma,” he responded, taking the bag from her, anyway. He shot her a surprised look and weighed the bag in his hand. “You carry this thing home every night?”

Though it was a question, he didn’t seem to require an answer, only pushed the door open for her and followed her out, securing the door behind them.

Down the stairs, he used her elbow to turn her toward the back corner of the school. “Let’s get a move on. I’m starved.”

That’s when she saw the horse standing placidly—for now—at the corner of the building. Sarah pulled back, removing her arm from Oscar’s grasp. “I can’t—I’m not riding that thing with you.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he groaned. “Can’t you have pity on a man? Just this once? I promise the horse won’t cause any trouble. I’ve had him for years and he’s never bucked me off. He’s a gentleman.”

She didn’t—couldn’t believe him. Her feet seemed glued to the ground. “I told you I’d be fine walking. Really. I’ll see you back at the Allens’ place.”

“Sarah.” She waited for him to voice his exasperation, but instead he grinned at her, a white flash of teeth against his tanned face. He took her arm again and urged her forward, though she dragged her feet.

As they turned the corner of the schoolhouse and neared the animal, Sarah saw the buggy it was hitched to.

She glanced toward Oscar, who continued to smile at her in the dimming light. “You rented a buggy?”

“Borrowed it.” He patted the horse’s neck as they passed the animal. “This guy’s a little perturbed at me, asking him to do such a menial job as pulling a buggy. You game to ride home with me?”

She allowed him to boost her into the conveyance. The buggy dipped and settled as he hefted himself in next to her. His bulk filled the seat, leaving them sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder, closer than Sarah would’ve liked.

He stowed her bag beneath their feet and released the brake.

Sarah couldn’t believe she was riding home next to the horseman. She might’ve expected him to cajole and push her into getting on a horse with him. But he hadn’t. After the past few days, it was obvious she needed to revise her expectations of the man. He hadn’t been anything like what she remembered from Bear Creek years ago.

“So tell me about this plan of yours.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It came to me when I was speaking to Mr. Allen last night. He said he wanted me working with the colt all day. But he didn’t say I had to board at his place.”

He looked at her for a long moment, waiting for her to come to the same conclusion he had.

“You’re going to stay at the Caldwell place?” she guessed.

“Yup. In the barn. I figure maybe Mr. Caldwell could use a listening ear, and some help with the work around the place. Maybe if he can work through some of his grief and doesn’t feel so alone, he’ll dry up. And I’ll be there to watch over the girls most times, except during the day. When you’ll be with them.”

“How did you get Caldwell to agree to that?”

“Told him I’d take a share of the proceeds from the winter wheat crop when it comes in. A man’s gotta have his pride.”

“But you’ll be gone by then, won’t you?”

He nodded. “I doubt I’ll be here past Christmas, with the way Allen’s colt has been taking to the training.”

“So then, you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

He chuckled at her skeptical tone. “I
am
looking for a trade, but not with Caldwell. You seem to be the only other person in town who cares about those little girls. I want to make a deal between us.”

Her cheeks warmed. What could he possibly want from her?

“Look, I’ll lay this out and you can think about it. You’re the only person my mare has responded to.”

His words froze everything inside her.

“Now, don’t get all tense, all right?” His warm, broad hand clasped both of hers in her lap and Sarah realized she had clenched them so tightly she could barely feel her fingers.

“I’m not asking you to ride the horse. All I’m asking is you to spend time with the horse—and me. Maybe walk her around on the lead rope if we get that far before I leave. If she trusts you, I can use that to get her to trust me. That’s all I’m asking.”