“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.
Chapter Three
T he day of Daniel’s wedding dawned clear and chilly, filled with cold sunlight. The mountain air fell to rest, leaving the pine and oak trees still. ’Twas a good day for a wedding—a practical day. As far as Daniel was concerned, the no-nonsense weather suited a no-nonsense arrangement. An arrangement like the one he’d come to with Sarah.
He figured