As they came closer and Cecilia’s eyes adjusted to the moonlight, it became clear who was who. Buck, staggering and singing, was on the left, and Pendergast on the right, was practically dragging him along—cold sober!
She couldn’t believe how miserably Buck had failed her. Her only comfort was that she had had a successful evening. After the boardinghouse residents had gone to bed, Cecilia had sneaked over to the schoolhouse, climbed through a window and tossed out the readers. Unfortunately, she had to toss herself out the window, too, and had done a belly flop in the dust. But in so doing, she had discovered the most ingenious hiding place for the books—on a ledge in the crawl space beneath the schoolhouse steps.
Which only proved that if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.
Regardless of her state of dress or who might see her, Cecilia sped off the porch and sprinted across the dry grass of Dolly’s yard to meet Pendergast and Buck. The sharp splintery blades poked at the soft pads of her feet.
“Buck, you idiot!” she said under her breath, coming to a quick stop in front of the pair. “Do you want to wake up the entire town?”
“And the next county.”
Cecilia looked at Pendergast, who seemed none the worse for drink. How had he managed it? In fact, his eyes were clear, almost twinkly, as they regarded her state of undress.
“Buck wanted to see you,” Pendergast said, grinning madly. “Said something about a man named Dooley Hodges and camping out on your porch until his relatives hauled him away.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Cecilia frowned. This was a terrible mess. “You shouldn’t have brought him here.”
“He insisted,” Pendergast explained, and then his gaze again swept her from head to toe, making her feel nearly naked, which of course she was. “Now I can understand why.”
A vision of her dream by the pond flashed through Cecilia’s mind. She felt her face burn and was glad there was only a quarter moon’s worth of light illuminating her embarrassment.
“What am I supposed to do with him?” she asked fretfully.
Seeing her distress, his expression softened. “Honestly, Cecilia, I couldn’t send him off to your father’s ranch. He’ll stay in my room for the night.”
Suddenly, Cecilia relaxed a bit. As much as she hated to admit it, this was her fault, and Pendergast was at least being decent about it. And he was right. She wouldn’t want Buck to have attempted the ride home, or risked her father’s wrath when he got there.
“All right,” she agreed, then bent her head toward his companion. “But Buck, you’ve got to try not to wake up Dolly or Lucinda.” Mrs. Baker slept like a rock.
“Dolly or Lucici—cinda,” Buck slurred loudly.
Cecilia looked doubtfully at Pendergast. “I’ll help you get him upstairs.”
He nodded, and Cecilia ducked underneath Buck’s other armpit. His crazily limp body was terribly unwieldy, and by the time they made it inside and to the stairs, bumping and thumping all the way, Cecilia had lost all hope of not waking the others.
“Shh,” she entreated, and Pendergast nodded.
Backfired. She couldn’t believe her little scheme had blown up in her face. What had she done to deserve this?
Oh, well. At least she had managed to set a trap for Pendergast. Beasley would stroke when those expensive books turned up missing, and Pendergast would bear the brunt of his wrath. She smiled already in anticipation.
“You know,” Pendergast whispered seriously, “the man probably wouldn’t be driven to drink if you didn’t tease him so unmercifully.”
“What?” Cecilia almost shrieked.
He ducked his head and pressed a finger to his mouth in warning. “Shh.”
“Don’t shush me, Pendergast,” Cecilia said, spitting the words over Buck’s practically unconscious head. “How dare you deign to tell me my business after spending all of three days in this town?”
“Fine,” he answered. “I won’t mention it again. I reckon it’s none of my business if you choose to ruin this man’s life.”
Cecilia’s eyebrow shot up in alert. “You reckon? Is that one of your Philadelphia words, Mr. Pendergast?”
“No, actually, I picked it up on the train.”
“I’ll just bet you did,” she replied.
“You know, you ought to consider going to Philadelphia someday. Maybe you’d pick up some manners on the train.”
“Oh!”
“Shh.” This time, a smile touched his lips. “We don’t want to wake the ladies, now, do we?”
If it wouldn’t have meant dropping Buck on his head, she would have slapped the man. “Why Lysander Beasley had to look all the way across the country just to find a schoolteacher, I’ll never know.”
Jake had been wondering that himself. Yet, at this precise moment, he was enjoying teasing Cecilia too much to worry about it. Her honey blond hair appeared almost white in the faint light, and her blue eyes were two dark, flashing pools. For a moment, as his eyes fastened on her full lips, he regretted that they were adversaries.
Nevertheless, that’s what they were.
“I should have thought that was obvious,” he said at last. “Yankees are smarter.”
Her mouth dropped open at his audacity, making Jake unable to hold back a chuckle. The lady wanted to belt him. Fortunately for him, they were approaching his door. Getting Buck in the room was going to take some fancy maneuvering.
Gingerly, he shifted his weight so that Buck was propped on his shoulder, which freed Jake’s hand for the doorknob. The entrance was too narrow for three people abreast, so they shuffled through one at a time, swaying in a jerky little dance.
Finally, the trio arrived at the bed.
“Pull down the covers,” Cecilia said.
“What for?”
She gaped at him as though she couldn’t believe her ears. “We just can’t throw him on the bed. Pull down the covers.”
Only a woman, Jake thought, shaking his head. “That’s crazy. But if keeping your sweetheart warm means so much to you, you pull them back.”
“He’s not my sweetheart!” she snapped. “Besides, you’re closer.”
A quick glance toward the bed confirmed she was right. But this was silly. “You can’t hold him up by yourself.”
It was the wrong argument to make. “Who says?”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Let’s not bicker. If you insist, I’ll turn down your damned covers.”
“There’s no need to resort to profanity, Mr. Pendergast,” she said haughtily, “just because you’re faced with ceding your meager but typical male show of strength to a woman.”
Jake relinquished his hold on Buck and stepped away, watching Cecilia stagger under the sudden burden. “Is that what I’m doing?” he asked innocently.
She weaved and leaned precariously for a moment before getting Buck’s bulk under control. “For heaven’s sakes!” she cried. “I almost dropped him, thanks to you.”
“Thanks to the loss of my meager strength, you mean?”
Cecilia rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Yes.”
From Dolly’s room across the hall, Jake heard stirring. He looked anxiously at Cecilia,