Rimfire Bride (31 page)

“That does it,” Jana said. “I’m moving into Elfrieda’s room until the boys are better. You can’t stay up all night and then expect to work all day.”

Drew smiled tiredly. “I’m not even going to try to talk you out of it. I’ll stop by the hotel and have Greta gather some of your things, so you won’t have to leave.”

So it was that Jana moved into Drew’s house.

Dinner that first
night seemed strange to Jana. She had sat at the dinner table with Drew before, she had slept in the same house with him before, but this time, everything was different. This time there were only the four of them, no Elfrieda to act as an unofficial chaperone, no Devlin nor Toby nor Peach nearby to lend a sense of propriety.

Not only Benji but Sam accepted her presence as if she was a part of their family. But with both of them ill, and in their beds, it made for an extremely intimate situation. And because of what had happened at Rimfire, sexual tension hung in the air.

After putting the boys to bed, Drew and Jana went into the parlor, where they sat together on the sofa. Jana stared absently into the fireplace as the logs burned down. While the fireplace was no longer necessary for heating the house, having been replaced by a coal furnace and hot-water radiators, Drew kept the fireplace burning. He liked to watch the flames lick up around the logs, blue at the base, then yellow, then orange at the dancing tips.

Drew reached out to touch Jana’s cheek, then her lips. Her lips were quivering as he moved his hand down over her chin to tilt back her head. She stared into his eyes, smoldering with fire though whether from within or the fireplace she didn’t know. She pursed her lips to meet his, and they shared a deep and demanding kiss. She closed her eyes, surrendering herself totally to the sensations she was experiencing.

“No,” she said, breaking off the kiss and pulling away from him. “I can’t do this.”

Now the eyes that had been filled with fire but a moment before were hurt and confused. Jana knew that based upon what had nearly happened while they were at Rimfire, Drew could think he had license to pick up where that incident had left off.

“Please, Drew, not here, not now.”

“All right.” Drew moved away from her slightly. “I’ve no intention, nor wish, to force myself on you.”

“You don’t understand. I’m the one using force here, for I must force myself not to give in to something that I so badly want.”

He smiled at her, the smile as intimate as the kiss they had just shared. “Well, I’m glad it’s something you want, and not all one-sided.”

“Believe me, it isn’t one-sided. But, I can’t afford to let myself go tonight. Can you understand that?”

Drew shook his head. “I don’t understand it at all. But I will respect it. You’ll be getting no unwelcome advances from me, Jana.”

As Jana lay in bed that night, she replayed the events and the conversation of the evening. The closeness on the sofa, the mesmerizing effect of the flames in the fireplace, the stimulation of the kiss . . . the combination was nearly more than she could resist. Had Drew taken it but one small step further, she would have given in to him.

She found herself wishing that he had been just a bit more insistent.

After about a
month, Drew told Sam that he was no longer contagious and that he would be returning
to school on Monday. Both Jana and Drew thought Sam would be excited, but he turned and ran quickly to his room.

Then, on Monday morning, Drew went into Sam’s room to find him hiding under his bed.

“What’s the matter with you, boy? Don’t you know, today’s the day you go back to school.” Drew knelt on the floor to look under the bed.

“I’m sick. I can’t go to school.”

“Sure you can. You just want to stay home with Jana and Benji.”

All at once, Sam slid out from under the bed. “Can I please, Daddy? Can I stay with Jana?”

“You have to go to school. You don’t want to be a bumpkin all your life, do you?” Drew smiled.

“No, sir, that’s why I don’t want to go to school. Jana knows I can read, but Miss Peterson doesn’t. Can’t Jana be my teacher?”

“I can’t ask Jana to do that,” Drew said just as Jana entered the room.

“What can’t you ask me to do?”

“Be my teacher,” Sam said. “You can do it, can’t you, Jana?”

“I would love to teach a boy as smart as you are, Sam.”

Sam put his arms around her and smiled. “See, Daddy. Jana says I’m smart. Miss Peterson never says that.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Drew agreed. “All right, Jana, if you don’t mind. I’ll hire you as a private tutor.”

“I’d love the job.”

“Can she teach me, too, Daddy?” Benji asked.

“Well, first, don’t you think you should get well?” Drew replied.

Benji had a bandage wrapped around him from below his chin to the top of his head. It wasn’t really necessary, but Benji thought that to heal he should have a bandage.

“But if I just sit here and be quiet while Jana is teaching Sam, can I come to school, too?”

“Of course you can, can’t he, Sam?” Jana said.

Sam smiled. “Yes. But I’ll be ahead of him in reading.”

Sam’s homeschooling was
going well, and Benji had recovered from the mumps much faster than Sam did. One evening while the boys and Drew and Jana were seated around the supper table discussing what each of the boys had learned that day, there was a knock at the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Sam said, hopping down from his chair.

“All right,” Drew said.

A moment later, Sam brought Della Peterson into the dining room.

“Drew, I came to see why Sam hasn’t returned to . . . we . . . oh,” Della said, seeing Jana seated at the table with the others. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest.”

“Jana isn’t a guest,” Benji said. “She lives here.”

“Oh?”

Drew laughed nervously. “It isn’t what you think. Mrs. Considine was called back to Missouri, so Jana kindly agreed to take her place for a while.
And it’s a good thing she was here. Both boys have had the mumps.”

“But I’m not sick anymore,” Sam said.

“That’s why I’m here. Mr. Malone, when will Sam be coming back to school? You do understand that it is your obligation to educate your son?”

“That’s what I’m doing. I’ve hired Miss Hartmann as a private tutor for Sam.”

Della shook her head. “With all due respect, Mr. Malone, a private tutor hardly takes the place of a trained teacher. I was educated at Vasser.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” Jana said. “You had the lead in three plays if I recall. Well, I was educated at McKendree.” She knew Della Peterson had no idea where or what McKendree was, but Jana wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being told.

“I’m sure the child has lost every bit of learning I have drilled into his head. He will undoubtedly be asked to repeat the primary session thanks to your ignorance, Miss Hartmann.”

“That’s enough,” Drew said. “Sam, go get your book. I think Miss Peterson should hear you read.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam ran into another room. A moment later he returned with
Swinton’s Third Reader.

Jana took the book from Sam, then handed it to Della. “Select any story.”

“That’s impossible,” Della said as she glanced at the book. “Not even my best readers can read from this book.” She threw the book on the table.

Then, without taking her gaze off Della, Jana picked up the book and opened it to a random page.

“Read from this page, Sam,” Jana said, handing
the book to him and keeping her eyes steadily on Miss Peterson.

Sam began reading: “ ‘What a pretty custom! And how kind and thoughtful! For in that country the winter is very long and the snow lies on the ground for eight or nine months: So the poor little birds have hard work to pick up food.’ ”

“I think that’s enough, Sam, thank you,” Jana said.

“I thank you for your interest, Miss Peterson,” Drew said as he rose from the table. “But as you can see, Sam is progressing quite nicely.” Drew smiled. “You have yourself to thank. After all, it was your suggestion that all he needed was more personal attention.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean . . .” With a sigh of frustration Della stopped. “I do not think you are raising your children in a moral home. When people begin to talk, it will be these two precious boys who will suffer. And you—a pillar of Bismarck society. What will people think?”

“I don’t care what people think, Miss Peterson,” Drew said coldly. “And I especially don’t give a damn what you think. Now, if you don’t mind, our supper is getting cold.”

“Well, I never!”

“Miss Peterson, you know where the door is,” Drew said, turning his back to the woman and taking his seat at the table.

The teacher turned in a huff and slammed the door as she left.

“I fear that woman will make trouble,” Jana said.

“Don’t worry about her,” Drew said. “As long as you’re tutoring Sam, no one can say he’s truant. I’m sure we’ve heard the last of Miss Peterson.”

Della Peterson could
hardly contain her anger when she returned to the boardinghouse where she lived. How could Drew Malone dare speak to her in such a fashion! She—the best-educated woman in Bismarck!

She had gone to his home with only the best interest of his son at stake. She told herself her only concern was for Samuel, and his prolonged absence from school. She had been willing to offer whatever assistance she could in helping him catch up with the other students. But when she fully investigated the situation, she discovered that the problem was much larger than mere truancy. Those two innocent children were being exposed to indecent—no, scandalous—behavior.

She knew immediately how she would take care of Drew Malone. He would rue the day he had ever thrown Della Peterson out of his house. She sat down at her desk and began to compose a letter.

About a week
after Della Peterson’s unexpected—and unwanted—visit, Drew came home in the middle of the afternoon. Accompanying him was a tall, handsome man, standing ramrod straight. He had piercing dark eyes, and a perfectly waxed, tightly curled mustache that stretched easily four inches, ending in needle-pointed, waxed tips. He was wearing a uniform of blue and gold, festooned with so many medals
that Jana wondered how he found enough room on the tunic to wear them all.

“Jana, this is the Marquis de Morès. He is the gentleman who has been keeping me so busy of late, and, Antoine, this is Jana Hartmann.”

De Morès clicked his heels and made a slight bow. “Good afternoon, Mademoiselle Hartmann. It is my pleasure to meet you.”

“Le plaisir est pour moi, monsieur, Marquis de Morès,”
Jana replied.

De Morès smiled broadly as he turned to Drew. “A charming young lady, the most cosmopolitan I have met on the frontier.” He held up his finger. “As the husband of a beautiful, intelligent, and educated woman, I advise you to . . .
accrochez-vous à son.
That is, hang on to her.”

“I intend to,” Drew said with a smile that Jana could only call possessive. “Jana, I’m going to see that the marquis and his valet are settled at the Sheridan House, where Frank’s joining us for dinner. Will you explain to the boys that I won’t read to them tonight?”

“How I envy you, my friend. The Marquise de Morès would be by my side this very day if we were not awaiting the birth of our first child. Miss Hartmann, I hope that you and Medora can become friends, just as Drew and I are.”

“Please, I am Jana, and I look forward to meeting the marquise.”

Drew clasped Jana’s hand in his as he pulled her toward the door. “I’ll see you tonight,” Drew said, and put her hand to his lips as he and de Morès left the house.

After Drew left,
Jana decided to make potato dumplings for her and the boys’ supper. As she was forming the balls, she felt close to her mother, envisioning her doing the same thing. Potato dumplings had been a favorite dish that Marta had often made for Jana when she was a child. She wondered if Sam and Benji would ever think back and remember her making these for them. Or would they even remember her at all?

After supper Jana played a game of checkers with Sam, then as Sam read to them, she helped Benji draw pictures on his slate. Near eight o’clock both boys began yawning, so she suggested they go to bed, which they agreed to do so if she would read a chapter from the book that Drew usually read to them. When she noticed both boys’ eyes were closed, she tiptoed out and closed their door.

Jana was in the kitchen setting the sourdough bread to rise when Drew came in. He stepped up behind her and put his arms around her waist as he nuzzled the back of her neck.

“Are the boys in bed?”

“Yes, and asleep.”

“You are so good with them, Jana, and it’s only because of that, that I feel comfortable doing what I have to do.”

“And what would that be, Mr. Malone?” Jana turned to face him, putting her arms around his neck.

“Frank was planning to go with de Morès to Little Missouri, but the venue for the case he’s
defending has been moved to Jamestown, so he’ll be gone for at least a week, maybe more. Anyway, tonight, we decided that I’ll go with de Morès instead of Frank, and except for leaving the boys with you, it makes more sense for me to go. I’ll be gone for a couple of weeks at a minimum, and we can stay at Rimfire while we’re out there.”

“Oh, Drew, do you have to go with him? It seemed to me like the marquis could take care of just about anything that might come up.”

“Would you rather not stay with the boys?” Drew asked, drawing back from Jana.

“It’s not that . . . it’s just . . . I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you, too.” Drew kissed her dismissively on the tip of her nose, then turned to go to his office. “I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight before I’m ready to go. You’ll be up before I have to leave in the morning, won’t you?”

“Yes, Drew. I’ll be up.”

As Jana watched Drew go toward his office, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of abandonment. He was going to be gone for at least two weeks. Surely, their relationship had advanced beyond a simple peck on the nose.

He had told her the night of the play that when he returned from Little Missouri he wanted to have a very serious talk with her—one that would involve the name Malone. It was now the middle of March and no meaningful discussion had yet come up.