“Not on any side. Just an observation. Kids play hooky all the time. It’s part of growing up.”
“The last time I checked, I was the teacher here. Tara needs to tend to her own troubles rather than worry about her brother’s issues. He has enough to worry about as it is.” She picked up her skirt and ascended the steps.
Where had she grown up? Under a rock? “Family loyalty means something to most folks.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth. Most folks, he reminded himself didn’t include his own.
With his words, she faltered on the last step, but caught herself. “I appreciate you seeing her safely here. I’ll take care of it. Good day, Sheriff.”
“One more thing,” he said, stopping her before she disappeared inside the school.
Her nostrils flared. She had a small nose. Cute. Distracting. And she wasn’t happy about his interruption in her life.
This was more important. If he remembered correctly, the Odoms’ property was about as far afield as a person could live and still be considered a resident of Clear Springs. The family’s low-slung cabin was little more than a shack hidden among the giant boulders on the eastern face of the mountain. The trail was nearly impassable. It was a wonder the girl made it to school at all. She was fortunate to have her brother’s company and care and likely wasn’t looking forward to traveling home on her own at the end of the day. “Have you ever been to the Odoms’ property?”
“No. But I have a good sense of direction. I’m sure I could find it.”
“It’s a fair distance, especially on her short legs. You told her she had to look out for herself. Well, I think she was doing that. It looks like her brother took their one and only ride.”
She shot a glance at the tether line. A long-eared mule usually stood there throughout the school day, stomping the ground and occasionally braying for attention. He’d heard it a time or two. Finding the animal gone took the starch out of her bonnet and for a moment she seemed at a loss for words. “So you do spy on me.”
“Just making my rounds. Keeping things peaceful. Quiet. Don’t want anyone lost...or hurt.”
She stared at him long enough that he wondered at it. “I’ll... I’ll see that she gets home.”
“You?” He didn’t need a lost teacher as well as a lost little girl on his conscience.
“Yes. Me.” That cute nose rose a little higher. “I can walk with her. I should speak to her mother anyway.”
He rubbed his chin, considering her—her clothes, the thin leather shoes she wore peeking from beneath her skirt. They didn’t look sturdy enough to hold up on a hike through the woods. “You won’t make it back to town before nightfall,” he said, none too happy about the prospect of heading that far out of town that evening. The Odoms stayed to themselves. The one and only time he had been to their cabin he had been greeted with a shotgun in his face. “The way I see it is...I’m taking her. It is my job to see to the safety of the people here.”
She arched a brow. “That’s commendable—and rather far-reaching for a description of your duties.”
He hadn’t expected her irritable attitude and wasn’t sure what to make of it, but this verbal battle wasn’t getting either of them anywhere. He wasn’t budging and neither was she. “I’ll come back at the end of school. We may both get a break and find that her brother has returned with the mule.”
She exhaled. “Fair enough. Thank you for bringing Tara back. If something keeps you from arriving at the end of the day, I will see that she gets home safely.” With a swish of her long blue skirt she disappeared into the schoolhouse.
Fine by him.
It took the rest of the day for Gemma to calm down from Sheriff Parker’s visit. He rattled her. That’s what he did. Keeping things peaceful indeed! Where was he when the fight broke out between Billy and Duncan?
It was an unfair thought, but she thought it just the same. He couldn’t have known it would happen. The fight had taken her by surprise herself.
She’d thought over their conversation at least twenty times and come to the conclusion they had both been concerned about Tara’s well-being and that was a good thing. They simply went about it at odds with each other.
It hadn’t helped that his appearance happened right in the middle of Moira’s reading. It was the first time the Bishop girl had actually read more than one sentence without stuttering! She had gone on for nearly four sentences! Gemma had been so excited that she was holding her breath, afraid to break the spell, afraid that the least little wind would blow Moira back to her old pattern of refusing to read aloud at all. Even the other students realized something different was happening and were quietly amazed.
And then enter Sheriff Parker. Tall, blond, imposing Sheriff Parker.
Most of the men she had been introduced to in Clear Springs were married and fathers of the children she taught. Oh, she had met a few single men in church—a few miners, ranchers and cowboys. She had been careful not to be overly friendly. Actually she had quickly discouraged them, admitting truthfully that she had too much to do with this being her first year of teaching to entertain thoughts of a social nature.
It was only a half-truth.
But Sheriff Parker hadn’t approached her after the first and only time she’d been introduced to him—when he had arrived on Molly’s doorstep with her good friend Elizabeth. Since then in the course of walking to and from school, she had seen him about town. His office stood on the northernmost point of Main Street—the same road that led out of town and passed the school.
He had kept his distance. Only a tip of his hat brim or a brief nod indicated he’d even noticed her. It should have been a relief to her in a town where the men so unevenly outnumbered women. Unfortunately, all it had done was make her more aware of him. She told herself that it was because he held the office of sheriff and considering her past, that was a worry in itself.
It couldn’t be that he stood head-and-shoulders taller than other men, even though he did. He must be at least three inches over six feet. And it wasn’t that his square, strong jawline, and perfectly straight Roman nose made him more handsome than the others—which they did. He was just so...male. Even in his dealings with others, she had noticed that his deep voice and spare words held more import than if he’d spewed out the entire dictionary. He was manly, composed, dignified. And it was so very unsettling to know that her thoughts dwelled on him more than they should.
Today, he had said he was just making his rounds. Making sure everything was quiet. But all his lurking had done for her was kick up some very unquiet sensations. She had come West to leave certain things of her past in her past and start anew. She couldn’t afford to have a sheriff snooping around. If he found out the truth about her, he might send her back to Boston...and to jail.
While she washed off the large slate board at the front of the room of the lessons and examples she had posted, she kept an eye on Tara. After the girl had donned her heavy sweater and hat along with the other children gathering their coats, she watched them head out the door to their homes while she returned to sit dejectedly on the first-grade bench. Her small shoulders were slumped as she swung her legs back and forth and stared out the window. Gemma was halfway through sweeping the floor when a sharp whistle sounded.
Tara jumped from her seat and ran to the door. She looked back up at Gemma. “That’s my brother. Can I go?”
“May I go,” Gemma corrected.
“May I go?” Tara repeated.
Gemma