Читать книгу The Scoundrel - Lisa Plumley - Страница 8

Two months later

S arah Crabtree’s first proposal of marriage came between geography and literature during her inaugural year of teaching. She blamed it largely on student boredom and vowed to make her lessons more involving. The second came a year and a half later, coupled with a ten-year-old’s favorite frog and a promise to “study ’rithmatic harder.” She pinned her pretty pink gown for that one and vowed to dress more sensibly.

Neither of those proposals prepared her for the third one, though, which she received on a blustery afternoon in late October. For it, she could find no excuse at all…but she did promise herself to remember it. Because it came from the man she’d been sweet on for years, and it wasn’t likely to be repeated.

It started out innocently enough, after lessons had ended for the day. She’d just climbed on the schoolhouse ladder to shelve some books when her longtime friend Daniel McCabe strode in, filling the small timber-framed room with the scent of the outdoors, his loud footfalls and his undeniably masculine presence.

“That’s it,” he announced, stopping beside her ladder in clear exasperation. “I need a wife.”

I volunteer, she almost blurted.

No, that would never do. She’d hidden her feelings for too long now. She couldn’t go casting them about willy-nilly at the first opportunity. Clenching her hand on the next book, Sarah made herself affect an airy tone.

“My, my, Daniel. Those are four words I never thought to hear from you.”

“Well, you just did. I mean it, too.”

At the grumble he gave, Sarah chanced a downward glance. Yes, Daniel looked exactly as burly and wonderful as he always did. Also, fairly perturbed. The realization stifled the sigh she’d been about to unloose. Hoping to improve his mood, she tried teasing.

“You don’t fool me.” She moved down a few rungs, skirts swishing, for the next armload of books. “You’d as soon pluck out every hair on your head as settle down with one woman.”

“Hmmph. I think I’m doing that anyway. Maybe it’s time to get some help.”

“Help pulling out your hair?” Sarah grinned. “Grace would volunteer. Her ladies’ aid group is making hand-woven hair switches for convalescents this week.”

He stared, agape. Hiding her grin with a studious-looking scrutiny of the volumes in her arms, Sarah grabbed the ladder. She climbed higher. Sometimes she thought Daniel truly didn’t understand her sister’s altruistic nature. Many people did not.

“No. I want to keep what’s left.” Ruefully, he rubbed his scalp.

She caught the telltale motion and looked around for the one person who could always rile up Daniel McCabe. Little Eli was just visible through the schoolhouse window, hopping outdoors in the autumn-crisped grass.

Hmm. Perhaps Daniel had reached the end of his renowned patience. A child like Eli could do that to a person. The whole town had been predicting it since Daniel took the boy in.

He saw the direction of her gaze. Frowned. “Last month, Eli nicked penny candy from Luke’s mercantile. Two days after that, he let loose all of old lady Harrison’s chickens. It took her hours to find them all. A week ago, he got caught pulling the girls’ hair on the way home from school.”

“An eye for the ladies,” Sarah murmured. “Like father, like son.”

His sharp-eyed look stopped her. She didn’t know what he was so irritated about. Although Eli was the very image of Daniel himself, Sarah didn’t really believe all those rumors about Daniel having illegitimately fathered the boy. Daniel claimed Eli was his nephew, and she trusted him. He knew that. But whatever their relationship, the saying fit.

Daniel was a rogue. Eli was a rapscallion. They were a matched set, an ideal—if troublesome—twosome.

“Yesterday, he swapped my coffee beans for dirt clods,” Daniel went on, obviously too beleaguered to take exception any further. He strode across the schoolroom, past the desks and the children’s hastily pushed-in benches. “When I took a big slurp of the brew, he laughed his fool head off.”

“You couldn’t tell the difference?”

“Afterward, I could. And now.” His glare could have pierced the windowpane, it was so severe. Beyond it, Eli frolicked, unconcerned. “Another tussle at school. This is the third time this month.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Sarah said gently. Eli’s adjustment to life in Morrow Creek had not been easy—and it had not yet been fully accomplished, either. “I’ve been trying to help him. To help you both. You know I have.”

Daniel inclined his head, silently acknowledging the visits she’d paid to their bachelor house, the books she’d read, the meals she’d delivered courtesy of the Crabtrees’ cook. But he didn’t stop pacing—and he didn’t look much relieved, either.

“But,” she continued, “I won’t allow any child to disrupt my classroom or my other students. That’s why I had to ask you to come collect Eli yourself today.”

Daniel fisted his hand, frustration evident in every line of his hardened body. “I can’t keep leaving my blacksmith’s shop like this. I need to earn my living.”

“You need to be a father to Eli.”

He shook his head. “That’s not enough.” He wheeled around, his expression newly determined. “What I need is a wife. A good one.”

That again. He couldn’t be serious. Daniel McCabe was the most well-known scoundrel in the northern part of the territory. Although Sarah hadn’t captured his heart for herself, she knew she didn’t have to worry about another woman accomplishing that miracle, either. Daniel didn’t honestly want a bride. The very idea was outlandish. He was simply overwrought right now because of Eli’s shenanigans.

She shelved another book, then gave him a complacent wave. “A ‘good’ wife, hmmm? I may be wrong, Daniel, but I don’t think you’re in any position to be dictatorial.”

He snorted. His raised eyebrows made her smile. Clearly, the notion that he might not always be in command of things came as an astonishment to him.

“A wife will take care of Eli,” he said, his enthusiasm for taking a bride undimmed. “A wife is what I’ve needed all along. I should have gotten myself one weeks ago.”

“You can’t order a wife from the Bloomingdale Brothers’ catalog, like a new suit.”

But Daniel wasn’t listening. He was running his hand through his hair again, thinking. He pulled his palm away and frowned anew.

“I’ve pulled out more hair than I thought these past weeks. At this rate, I’ll be bald before winter’s out.”

She glanced downward, bemused. Nothing had changed—Daniel still possessed enough thick, dark hair for a man and a half. Besides, he’d still be handsome to her, even with no hair at all. Sarah wanted to tell him so, to put his mind at ease. But experience had taught her better than that.

Instead, she settled on, “Bald, eh? All right, then. I guess you’d better hurry up with that wife business.”

“Hmmph.”

Pointedly, she peered at the crown of his head. “You wouldn’t want to scare away any potential brides.”

Amid another surreptitious examination of his locks, he stilled his hand. “They’re that fussy?”

As a spinster herself, Sarah had no idea. But she knew Daniel didn’t, either. So she nodded knowledgeably. “The savvy ones are. The ones who want a husband with a full head of hair.”

He furrowed his brow, looking increasingly worried. She felt a little deceitful, carrying on this way. But she simply couldn’t resist. It wasn’t often Daniel was uncertain about anything—especially anything to do with women. Besides, this was all in fun. He’d forget the whole idea by tomorrow.

“But you don’t want a potential bride who scares easily,” she cautioned. “That wouldn’t do.”

He nodded, encouraging her. Perhaps foolishly.

“You need someone with fortitude,” she opined.

Another nod.

“Someone who’s organized,” she offered. “Someone who’s efficient and orderly.”

He made a face. “I’m not opening a mercantile. I’m getting hitched.”

Noncommittally, she shelved another book. Daniel was taking this far too seriously. Ordinarily, the two of them teased each other often. But this time…a prickle of unease nagged at her. Could Daniel really mean to find himself a wife?

Before Sarah could contemplate the matter further, a rustle at the schoolhouse doorway alerted her to another presence in the room. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hello, Emily.”

The nine-year-old girl murmured a quiet greeting.

“Your slate is there at your desk, right where you left it. I thought you might be back for it.”

“Thank you, Miss Crabtree.”

Emily snatched up her slate and ran out, pigtails flying. Satisfied, Sarah blew a dust mote from her shelf and resumed working.

Below her, Daniel glanced out the window. Emily—one hand protectively on her hair—was making her way cautiously around Eli. After she’d passed, the boy went back to hopping.

“How did you know who that was?” Daniel asked. “You didn’t even turn around.”

She shrugged. “This is my job. Just like your new mercantile will be your job. Yours and your organized new bride’s.”

He did not take the bait. He only went on discussing his impending marriage…as though it might actually take place.

“All I need is a woman who’s amenable,” Daniel said, his usual certainty firmly in place. “And knowledgeable about children. That should be easy enough to find.”

Sarah rammed in another volume. She’d had just about enough. A jest was a jest, but this… Daniel was beginning to sound downright resolute about finding a wife. Even worse, he’d already rejected her as a candidate! No matter that he didn’t know it yet. Those wifely qualities she’d suggested to him—bravery, fortitude and keen skills in the areas of organization, efficiency and order? They happened to be some of her personal best. He’d dismissed them out of hand.

A woman who’s amenable. And knowledgeable about children.

Hmmph. She possessed plenty of amenability. And who could be more knowledgeable about children than a schoolmarm?

It wasn’t that she wanted to make herself a potential candidate. Not exactly. Not for an arrangement like this. Sarah wanted a love match. She wanted Daniel. She’d already made up her mind to wait until she could have both. This new scheme of his was trying her patience in the extreme, though.

Experimentally, she plastered an amenable simper on her face. She glanced down to gauge its effect.

Daniel looked oblivious. He’d crossed his arms over his broad chest and was studying the pine plank floorboards.

“She should be passing fair to look at, too,” he said decisively, adding another item to the list of his potential wife’s qualifications. “That wouldn’t hurt.”

His anticipatory chuckle got her dander up. Sarah shoved in the next book. There were any number of women who were “passing fair to look at” in Morrow Creek. Not one of them was good enough for Daniel. Or Eli, for that matter.

She’d obviously have to do something about this. Scuttling her plans to give Daniel time to realize the obvious—that they were meant for each other—Sarah set her expression in a dubious frown. The amenable simper hadn’t felt a natural fit, anyway.

“Having a wife might help,” she agreed as she put away a book of poetry. “But on the other hand…”

At her hesitation, Daniel squinted upward impatiently. Just as she’d known he would.

“Out with it, Sarah. ‘On the other hand,’ what?”

“On the other hand, planning a wedding can require an awful lot of time. Time you don’t have, as you pointed out yourself.”

“Fine. I’ll let my bride plan the wedding.”

Oh, that would be lovely! Seduced by the very thought, Sarah let her imagination run unchecked. Visions of a fairy-tale wedding swirled in her head—a wedding between her and Daniel. Her imagination dressed her in her finest gown and Daniel in a fancy suit. Eli carried flowers. The whole of Morrow Creek gathered for a celebration fit to rival even her sister Molly’s grandiose marriage to Marcus Copeland last month.

She would serve spice cake from her sister’s bakery, Sarah determined, and memorize all her vows….

“Because I don’t have time to waste,” Daniel said, interrupting her reverie. “Eli needs a woman’s influence. Now.”

Her daydream popped like so many soapsuds. But perhaps there was still a way to salvage this situation.

“Are you sure there’s not more to it than that?” Sarah glanced downward. Her heart squeezed painfully at the sight of him. “Maybe there’s another reason you want a wife.”

Like love. Longing. An overly delayed realization that your ideal partner has been here all along, alphabetizing dusty tomes about literature and history.

He scoffed. She wanted to kick herself for voicing the question at all. Aggravated, Sarah shelved the next book. She often forgot herself around Daniel. They’d been friends for so long.

Her family always said that her tendency to ignore the obvious—usually in favor of some dreamy notions of her own—would get her in trouble someday. Dangling her lovelorn hopes in front of a confirmed bachelor like Daniel McCabe most definitely counted as trouble.

Well. She’d simply stop doing that, then. Easy as that.

“Steady my ladder, would you, please?” Sarah asked briskly, needing very much to move on. “I want to grab that next pile.”

Instead of doing as she’d asked, Daniel slid the stack of books from her desk himself. Effortlessly, he offered up the heavy volumes one by one. Then he absently steadied her ladder with both big hands on a lower rung. She felt its wooden frame wobble with the impact, then turn as solid as the earth beneath Eli’s kicking feet.

That was Daniel, Sarah reflected. He set her off balance without even knowing it…yet always remained nearby for her to rely upon.

Although she’d never have revealed as much to him, his presence was the aspect of her day she looked forward to most. Between planning lessons, grading schoolwork and traversing the path between her schoolhouse and the Crabtrees’ lively household, Daniel was always in her thoughts. Without him, her days would feel half as sunny…and twice as lonely.

An unwelcome thought occurred to her. What if he found a disagreeable wife? One who disapproved of their friendship?

Obviously, she could not leave such an important decision up to Daniel. Sarah decided to return to the reason for his newfound interest in matrimony—the wayward boy he’d found unexpectedly in his charge.

“About Eli,” she began. “I know you’ve had your share of troubles with him, but I’m not so certain he needs a woman’s influence. After all, you’re a capable man who—”

“Does my smithing fire need its pit to contain it?”

Oh, dear.

“I’ve decided,” Daniel said. “That’s that.”

No. That most definitely wasn’t “that.” It couldn’t be. If Daniel got himself a wife, he’d be lost to her forever. Desperately, Sarah cast about for another tactic.

“And you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“Do you also need a woman’s influence?”

His hearty laughter rang out. She’d have sworn it rocked the very ladder she stood upon. Sarah clutched its top rung, then ladled some starch in her voice.

“I expect that’s a no?”

“I influence women. Not the other way ’round.”

“That’s what you think,” she grumbled.

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘Not for the better, either.’”

“Pshaw. I’ve never dallied with a woman who wasn’t willing.”

Much to her chagrin, Sarah didn’t doubt it. Glancing down at Daniel with an attempt at impartiality—the way his potential bride might—she surveyed his brawny shoulders, rugged upturned face and devilish dark eyes. At one glance, she knew his words to be true. Women would be willing to dally with Daniel.

Although not as fancily turned out as some of the dandies who came through Morrow Creek, he was, to her eye, more perfectly formed than all of them. He had a special quality about him, too. A quality that promised laughter and protection in equal measure.

To her, he also promised strength. Kindness. Affection. He had since they’d trod this same schoolroom together years ago—she in short skirts, he in mended britches.

“Well. Not all women are so easily influenced,” she said.

“I’ve yet to find the one who isn’t.”

Instantly, a rebuttal jumped into her head. Sarah thought it best to leave her disagreement unspoken. After all, she could hardly count herself the exception to Daniel’s charm. The fact that he was oblivious to his effect on her was probably for the best. It helped preserve her pride, at least. For a woman born into a family as exceptional as hers, pride was nothing to be taken for granted.

Apparently, neither was her friendship with Daniel.

Sarah didn’t know what to do. She’d fancied him for so long, she’d half convinced herself he’d return her feelings eventually…once he’d finished sowing his wild oats, of course. But apparently Eli’s arrival had set something new in motion.

Outside, the boy’s movements caught her eye. He stomped in a pile of fallen oak leaves, scattering their rusty colors to the wind.

“It’s getting colder outside these days,” she said, welcoming the distraction from her troubling thoughts. “You should put a warmer coat on Eli.”

“He won’t give up that coat. He won it playing marbles.”

She chose not to pursue that. “And a hat. And a scarf. And some mittens, too.”

Silence. Then, “I’ll just get busy knitting all that.”

At his gruff jest, Sarah smiled. That was the Daniel she was used to. His teasing didn’t daunt her. In this, she knew she was right.

Of course, she was right in her opinions of his wife-hunting plans, too. If she had anything to say about his choice… Well. Naturally, she’d have a say. She only needed to regroup. He’d caught her by surprise. For now, Sarah determined, she’d finish working and handle this matter later.

That settled, she waggled her fingers in a no-nonsense way, gesturing for Daniel to hand up the last volume from her desk. As the book passed between their fingers, his regard fell upon her. A speculative expression crossed his face—almost as though he saw her for the first time. Which, given their long friendship, was hardly likely.

“You,” he said, “would make someone a fine wife.”

Or maybe it was.

Her heart pounded. She had to be hearing things. Her tendency to flights of fancy had finally gotten the better of her.

“I would make a fine wife?”

“I reckon so.” A little of the revelatory manner left his voice. Daniel’s tone grew surer. “Don’t know why I didn’t see it before. You’re a fine schoolmarm and a practical person. You can see children without even turning around. You know all about warm winter clothes. You’re perfect. You, Sarah Crabtree, would make an excellent wife.”

This she hadn’t foreseen. Daniel sounded nearly jubilant, too. That was never a good sign. He was as given to impulsiveness as she was to stubbornness. As proof, she looked to his reckless smile. It had grown twice as wide just now.

She needed time to think. Also, time apart from that charm-filled smile in which to do it. Drawing in a deep breath, Sarah made herself finish shelving the book in her hand. It was a volume on mathematics, clothbound and heavy. She frowned slightly, as though in concentration, but her mind flew.

“That’s true,” she agreed. “I would make an excellent wife.”

After all, her feminine pride would allow nothing less.

But as she chanced another look at Daniel, she felt herself being pulled in even further by the force of his appeal. Like other men brandished crooked noses or blue eyes or bowed legs, Daniel wielded irresistible charm. It was a part of him. She’d never been very adept at ignoring it.

Until now, she’d been directing this conversation about wifely qualities—and Daniel’s need for the same. Uneasily, Sarah felt her control of the situation slipping. She didn’t like it. But Daniel quite obviously did.

He stepped away decisively, leaving her ladder to wobble.

“We’re in agreement, then. Good. Will a week be enough time for you to plan?”

“Plan?”

“Our wedding.” He gave her a smile, pleased as punch to have things settled. “Yours and mine.”

She opened her mouth to…what? Disagree? This was what she’d wanted. Mutely, Sarah nodded. Lord, what was she doing?

“Good.”

Daniel strode to the schoolhouse doorway, his shoulders lightened without the burden he’d carried when arriving. There he paused, glancing over his shoulder. Relief brightened his features. Clear enthusiasm shone in his eyes. In his every aspect, he was a man prepared to conquer the world around him—including his future bride.

For one wistful instant, Sarah let herself wonder how this moment might have passed, had theirs been a typical proposal…a true engagement. She envisioned Daniel smiling down at her, pulling her in his arms, murmuring promises and sweet words of affection. She imagined him touching her face, bringing his mouth to hers, kissing her with passion and love. Those were the things she wanted most.

But instead, Daniel’s hearty, rumbling voice interrupted her daydreams.

“One more thing,” he said.

“Yes?” Sarah lifted her gaze to find a peculiar expression on his face. Her heartbeat quickened once more. Was this it? The moment he’d realize the truth? Just in case, she prepared herself for him to stride across the room and take her romantically in his arms.

“You should know, Eli has a distinct appreciation for cabbage. Be ready to eat it at least three times a week.”

Daniel watched her expectantly. Sarah had no idea how to respond. As it turned out, a response wasn’t necessary. In the next moment, her bridegroom-to-be offered a wink, then disappeared from sight. Probably off to finagle himself a church and minister, Sarah thought in a daze.

Or more cabbages. After this day’s surprises, she just couldn’t be certain.