When Love Comes My Way Page 18

  Jake eyes refused to meet hers. “And?”

  “He said you were roaring mad about the sale and that you think Miss Wakefield is a selfish, conniving, unfeeling little witch who doesn’t give a whit about anyone’s future but her own.”

  Jake cleared his throat. “I don’t know that for a fact. I get hot under the collar when her name comes up.”

  “Sounds to me that she’s all those things and more,” she sympathized. “But when she sees what’s being done to her grandfather’s land, she’ll change her mind.”

  Jake turned toward her, and she saw his gaze soften.

  “Maybe.”

  “She will if she’s anything like her grandfather. Would it help if I spoke to Miss Wakefield when she comes? Sometimes a woman can talk to another woman and make her see things from a different perspective. And when you finally agree to build the new schoolhouse, I promise I’ll do everything I can to help get the project started.” She was surprised to see—what? New recognition in his eyes?

  “Is that a fact?” he said. “You think you might convince Miss Wakefield to help us plant trees?”

  She sighed. “Well, I can’t speak for her, but I know that I will help. Of course, there’s very little I can actually do because I don’t personally own the land, but I’ll talk to Miss Wakefield the moment she arrives.” She nodded, warming to the thought. “Yes, that’s exactly what Tip would want me to do.”

  “Tip?”

  Tess glanced up. “Tip?”

  “You said Tip would want his granddaughter to replant the trees.”

  “Oh.” Leaning against the tree, she pursed her lips in thought. “That was Rutherford’s nickname, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, but other than Rutherford’s family and closest friends, no one called him that. How did you know it?”

  “I don’t know. I must have heard it somewhere. Maybe André mentioned it.” Waving the coincidence aside, she stepped closer, forcing him to take an involuntary step back. “It isn’t important… and stop doing that!”

  “Doing what?”

  “Always backing away from me. I won’t bite you.” His mouth curved in one of the unconscious smiles she loved. “And don’t do that, either. When you smile that way, it frustrates me all the more that you don’t like me.”

  “Who says I don’t like you?”

  “You do. By your actions in a thousand different ways.”

  Reaching out to draw her to him, he offered her an arresting smile this time, and the warmth of his hands penetrated her coat. “Well, you’re wrong. I was even thinking about asking you to take a moonlit walk with me this evening.”

  “You were? Why?”

  “Does a man need a reason to ask a pretty woman to take a walk in the moonlight?”

  “Are you going to try and bully me into dropping my crusade for the new schoolhouse?”

  “No. Can’t I ask a woman to go for a simple walk without her reading some ulterior motive into it?”

  He knew exactly what to do to make a woman’s pulse race like a runaway carriage. “You’re not going to kick me out in the snow?”

  “I can honestly tell you I have never kicked a woman out in the snow, but you’re not going to stay in my quarters, Fedelia. Your head injury is interfering with your common sense. Single women do not move in with unmarried men.”

  “But the women in Shadow Pine—”

  “Have nothing in common with the women in camp. You are not staying with me. When I’m though with work, I’ll move your things to Menson’s for a few days. Henry and Grace can keep you until I can make other arrangements.”

  “Did Henry agree to that?”

  “I haven’t mentioned it to him yet. The arrangement will cramp them, but he will agree.”

  The world spun lopsidedly when his arm slipped around her waist and his mouth lowered to kiss her.

  “Well… you need to know I’m going to see this thing through.” Her voice had gone all breathy and sweet.

  “Good for you.”

  His mouth closed masterfully over hers, and she thought she would burst from sheer pleasure. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing now, and she wasn’t about to ask. When their lips parted, Jake gazed down at her with a touch of tenderness shining in his eyes.

  “Can we call a truce, Miss Yardley?”

  “Would a truce mean I don’t get the new schoolhouse, Mr. Lannigan?”

  He smiled. “No. It just means we quit nipping at each other’s heels for a while.”

  She returned his smile. “Agreed.”

  Looping her arm through his, they started the cold walk back.

  “I have some paperwork to catch up on,” Jake said. “I’ll be back at the room later, and then we’ll get you settled with the Mensons.”

  He’d be surprised with the work she’d achieved this afternoon. At least it wasn’t in vain. He’d have clean quarters, but a confession was in order. He might enjoy a good bluff, but she felt he was gradually coming around to her way of thinking. “I didn’t really intend to stay with you. Though I don’t know who I am, I’m certain I’m not the sort of woman who would…well, you understand. I was bluffing. I’m sorry.”

  “No harm done.” The towering pines cast deepening shadows over the frozen ground. “Are you going straight to the room?”

  “I want to stop by and see Echo before that. I felt sorry for her today, Jake. She took such pride in being a part of something. Now she has nothing to brighten her life, no cause to get excited about, and no solid reason to feel as if she will ever accomplish anything on her own. Waite will see to that,” she added, her voice tinged with bitterness for the man who seemed to wreak such havoc in Echo’s life.

  “Regardless of your impression of Echo’s marriage, you don’t know for certain there is any real problem. Marriage is sacred. The Lord meant it when He said that what He had joined together no man—or woman—should set asunder. A lasting relationship takes work, hard work, with one person giving an inch more than the other, and both need the fortitude to work through problems that will inevitably arise when a man and a woman choose to spend their lives as one.” He paused. “Don’t judge others. That’s what Wakefield preached.”

  “Why, Jake Lannigan.” She stopped and looked up at him. “I didn’t know you could be so profound.” The mention of Rutherford Wakefield brought a lump in her throat, but she couldn’t say why. The wise old man must have been a very discerning man. No wonder his employees valued and respected his memory.

  Jake’s arm circled her waist. “Don’t stay with Echo too long.

  You haven’t got a lantern, and I don’t want you wandering around in the dark alone.”

  Drawing closer to his side, she matched his strides and marveled again at how incredibly safe and contented she felt, secure in the shelter of his arms.

  23

  The night wind howled when Jake walked home later. He glanced up to see a glow in his window, aware that he was whistling when he climbed the long stairway to his room. It was the first time he could ever remember coming home to a room that wasn’t dark, cold, and empty. The thought oddly suited him.

  He had misjudged Tess, yet he had no way of telling her he had been wrong unless he told her the truth about who she was. Tip Wakefield’s blood ran through this woman’s veins. His grit and pure determination still thrived in his granddaughter. When she started making hats, his suspicions were more than confirmed.

  Opening the door, he paused when the room’s cozy warmth welcomed him. Lamplight spilled across the freshly scrubbed floor. Everything had been moved. His gaze traveled the area, settling on the frilly sheet with rosebuds strung across one corner of the wall.

  “You like it?” Tess asked. She stepped from the shadows to help him remove his coat.

  “What have you done?” His eyes searched what had formerly been a man’s domain. Fire crackled in the stove, and on top of it a whistling tea kettle made a racket. His gaze shifted to the pallet on the floor, one he’d never seen before. An
assortment of bottles and a silver-handled brush and comb sat atop his dresser instead of his razor and shaving mug. And on his nightstand, where he threw his pocket change, sat a bowl of some kind of dried leaves.

  “Do you like it?” she prompted again.

  “What’s that smell?”

  Tess lifted a porcelain bowl that had formerly been in Menson’s front window. “Dried rose petals. Don’t they smell lovely?”

  “Where’s my stuff?” Jake’s brows knit together tightly. His personal effects were not where he had left them this morning.

  “Here… all neatly in place.”

  “You cleaned?” The word came out more like an accusation than a compliment. He started to circle the room, trying to assess the damage.

  She nodded, grinning. “Took hours, but I’ve rearranged drawers. I threw away a lot of useless things in the process.”

  His brow lifted. “Useless?”

  “You know—worthless stuff you had lying around. Doesn’t it look better?”

  “I didn’t have anything worthless lying around.” His eyes searched for the stack of journals beside his bed. They were missing. “If you were going to get rid of something, why didn’t you pitch your useless things?”

  “Are you angry with me?”

  “Fedelia…where are my journals?”

  “Under the cot. It’s much better to store them there where they’ll be out of sight,” she reasoned. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Mind? No. I’ll just crawl across the floor like a snake when I need to make a notation.”

  Her face clouded. “You are angry.”

  “I’m not.” His words said one thing; his tone, another. He fixed on the dainty pillows tossed on the hard wooden chairs. Her eyes traced his. “You have to admit the chairs are much softer with cushions.”

  He glanced back to the pallet.

  “It’s quite comfortable,” she said cheerfully.

  “Ah. And if you weren’t moving downstairs, who would have the pleasure of sleeping on it?”

  “You, of course. A gentleman would never ask a lady to sleep on the floor.”

  “Not in Philadelphia, perhaps, but you’re not there.”

  “A gentleman is a gentleman, Jake, no matter where or what his circumstances.”

  “You’re my mother now?” Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Put it all back, and then we’ll get you settled downstairs.”

  Tess shook her head, stifling a yawn. “It’s so late, Jake.” She sat down on the cot, loosened her hair pins, and dropped her head on the pillow. “I think the room looks lovely.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. We already talked about this. You’re going to the Mensons’ tonight.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her upright.

  “Oh, all right. If you insist.” She stood and reached for a valise. “But I’ll have to pack.”

  “Why haven’t you done that already?”

  “In case you can’t see, I’ve been working. Your quarters are as shiny as a new coin.”

  “You’ll have to get your things tomorrow.” He opened the door. “Ladies first.”

  Though he was more than a little irritated at the changes she had wrought in his simple bachelor’s quarters, she was so beautiful he couldn’t help but smile at the pouting look on her face as she started down the stairs.

  By late morning the next day, Tess had gathered her belongings and was settled, in a closetlike room, in back of Menson’s store. Grace, for one, was openly relieved about her change in residence.

  “It’s better for everyone this way.”

  “Much better,” Tess agreed. Yesterday she’d been certain she was getting through to Jake, but now she suspected that no woman would break through his tough barrier. All she knew was that she had to keep trying.

  Echo glanced up when Waite kicked the heavy door open and entered their one-room shack.

  “Clean this,” he snapped, pitching the carcass of a wild turkey onto the table.

  She moved from the stove, where a pot of beans and a skillet of potatoes and onions were simmering. She picked up the bird and carried it to the sink.

  Waite sat down at the table, and thrust one foot out. “Take off my boots, honey.”

  Wiping her hands, she knelt beside his chair.

  Staring down at the top of her head, Waite remarked. “You’re not mad at yore man, are you?”

  “No. I love you, Waite.” Her eyes refused to meet his as she began to untie the strings.

  “No reason to be mad, girl. You know that soo-ciety ain’t fittin’ for a woman like you. You’re a pleaser, sweetheart. You don’t need the likes of Fedelia Yardley gettin’ you all stirred up.”

  “The potatoes need turning, Waite,” she murmured. “Let’s not start an argument.”

  He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “My, my. Ain’t we actin’ uppity lately. ‘The potatoes need turnin’, Waite.’ You learn that from the schoolteacher?”

  Echo remained silent.

  “Cat got your tongue?” He nudged her with the tip of his boot.

  “No.”

  “Then answer me, darlin’.”

  She rose and walked to the stove.

  “Ain’t you gonna answer me?”

  “Leave me alone, Waite,” she said. “Go sleep it off.”

  “I still got my boots on, and you’re frettin’ over potatoes. ’Course, appears that you’re cookin’ again. That’s an improvement.”

  “Your boots are untied,” she said. “Slip them off.”

  “That’s your job.”

  “You’re liquored up. Go to bed.”

  He got out of his chair, groping for support with one hand. “You embarrassed me in front of Sherman Miller and Henry Menson, Echo. No one embarrasses Waite Burne, least of all his woman. Say you’re sorry for embarrassing me.”

  “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

  He paused, holding on to the sink. “And I’ll hear no more about that silly soo-ciety. You quit and you’re gonna stay home and take care of yore man liken’ you’re supposed to do.”

  Echo lifted a shoulder.

  “I want to hear you say it, woman.”

  “I said I wouldn’t go anymore.”

  “And you’re gonna stop associatin’ with that uppity Fedelia Yardley. From now on, you’re not to see her or go near that schoolhouse unless I say so. You got that?”

  She met his eyes. “I’m not deaf. I got it.”

  As suddenly as the argument erupted, it stopped. “That’s my woman. If I hear of you seeing her again, you’ll answer to me.” He pointed toward the sizzling skillet. “My supper’s burnin’. Hurry up. I ain’t got all day,” he muttered. “I’m gonna eat, then me and Ben’s goin’ to try to get to Shadow Pine for the night…gonna play some cards. He’s got a right nice sleigh that takes the deep snow real fine.”

  Echo slowly turned to face him. “Then why don’t you and your card-playin’ buddy eat over there?”

  “What’d you say?” His frown deepened. “That Yardley woman has ruined you. She’s turned Big Say into a regular sissy pants and you into a sassy little twit.”

  “She’s my friend.”

  He got to his feet and swayed unsteadily. “Well, I’m leavin’ and I might stay gone. You’ll be on your own. No way to feed yourself, no one around to protect you from the other jacks. How would you like that, Miss High-and-Mighty?”

  “I don’t want you to leave, but you got a mind to do what you want. The Good Lord will help me make it if you don’t come back.”

  “You might think different once you’ve gone without fresh game or a regular paycheck,” he sneered.

  “Might be, but things have to change, Waite. I don’t mind giving up the soo-ciety, but I want to be friends with Miss Yardley. You got no call to make me give her up.”

  “Change?” He threw back his head and hooted. “Over my dead body, woman. I like the way things are.” He glared at her. “Or I did until now.”

  He reached for his coat and slammed out of t
he house with his boots untied.

  24

  Tess trudged through heavy snow to school, her mind still on Jake and his moody behavior. Her room at the store was tiny but comfortable, but she was crowding the Mensons and the arrangement could only be temporary. Modeen wasn’t happy with the schoolteacher staying in her home.

  The store was an active place with folks coming and going. Grace had her hands full filling orders and cooking. She couldn’t be bothered with a guest, even though Tess looked after herself. The telegraph machine hummed before sunup this morning, and poor Grace took the message and then called to Henry that she was going in search of Jake or André. Most likely an emergency had risen in one of the jacks’ families.

  Approaching the schoolyard, Tess was dimly aware of raised voices. She drew closer and the loud tones grew more pronounced.

  “Miss Yardley’s set her cap for Big Say,” King Davis declared. “My pa says so!”

  “She has not!” Tirzah yelled, defending her teacher.

  “Tirzah, you’re such a baby. You don’t know what it means for a woman to set her cap for a man.”

  “It means you’re sayin’ bad things about Miss Yardley, and it ain’t so!”

  “Well, it is so if a woman is chasing a man like a common strumpet!”

  Tess gasped. King would only know hateful accusations like that if he heard them at home.

  “You take that back, King Davis!”

  Tess broke into a run, covering the last few steps in a dash while other students stood in the snow watching the scene. “Children! Stop this right now!”

  Tirzah was near tears and not in a mood for reasoning. “King is saying bad things about you, Miss Yardley, and I’m not gonna stand for it.” The girl’s hands grabbed a chunky piece of wood and held it threateningly.

  Tess stepped between the two students to put an end to the fracas. She held up a finger. “I said—” She stopped speaking when a sharp pain exploded in her temple, and then she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.