The teacher whipped around and looked directly at Mitch, her chin raised, challenge in her eyes. “When, Mr. Beaumont?”
Score one for the society woman.
He had to smile at her fire and passion. Until then he hadn’t noticed how very attractive the town’s new teacher was. A few wisps of her golden brown hair had come loose from her bun and dangled alongside her face. Her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and dimpled smile of triumph had him squirming in his seat. He had no desire or intention of falling under the woman’s spell as the rest of the town apparently had. He dipped his chin in gracious defeat. “As soon as you are ready to open the doors, Miss Cochran.”
She turned back to face the group. “Monday morning at eight o’clock.”
Half an hour later Mitch walked up behind Miss Cochran, who was holding court with several of the parents. “I will walk you home when you’re ready.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“
Yes, it is. I’ll be by the door.”
Shortly after their exchange, the enthusiastic group surrounding the teacher broke up and headed for home.
Miss Cochran shrugged into her coat and buttoned it as she walked toward him. “I’m ready, but I don’t feel it is necessary for you to walk me home. It’s only a few blocks.”
“Nevertheless, I will walk you. We certainly don’t want anything to happen to our new teacher.”
She studied him, her face showing confusion as to the sincerity of his remarks. He wasn’t sure himself.
They stepped into the cool night air. “I guess you won, Miss Cochran.”
“No. To my way of thinking, the town won, Mr. Beaumont. The children will have school, the parents are happy, and I am here to stay.”
He chuckled at her determination. A small niggle of doubt teased the back of his mind.
Maybe I misjudged her.
He shoved the thought away. Just give the U.S. senator’s daughter a couple of weeks here, and she’ll be high tailing it back to Oklahoma. And good riddance. The last thing he needed was to feel as though he had to look after her.
“I’m surprised your wife didn’t attend the meeting. I thought she would be interested in hearing about the school for Ian.” She looked at him with mischievous eyes. “Unless you don’t allow her out of the house? Keep her locked up and in the kitchen?”
He shrugged. “My wife is dead.”
Priscilla felt her stomach drop to her feet like a stone. Dead? That sweet little boy had no mother? “I’m so sorry. I had no idea, or I wouldn’t have been so flippant. Please forgive me.”
He took her elbow as they stepped from the boardwalk to cross the street. “Don’t trouble yourself; it was a long time ago. Right after Ian was born.”
“He is a sweet little boy. How old is he?”
His grin showed her the pride he held for his son. “Eleven.”
“Does he like school?”
“Unfortunately he hasn’t had a whole lot of formal schooling since we’ve had a hard time with teachers. I’ve worked with him whenever he was between regular instruction.”
Most likely she had her work cut out for her. Patchy schooling made it difficult for a child. It would be important for her to make sure she covered all the basics and tested each child to see where they were in their education. Just the thought of having her own classroom had excitement and anticipation swirling through her. She so loved teaching. “I’m looking forward to having him in school. And all the other students. How many are there?”
“Last count about twenty or so.”
They reached her front door and, before entering, she turned to him. “One of my trunks is packed with books and teaching supplies. Can you have someone carry it over to the school when you have a chance? I’d like to get the classroom set up as soon as possible so it’s all ready for Monday.”
Illumination from the gas streetlight bathed them in a soft glow, allowing Priscilla to focus on the man’s strong features. His high cheekbones, straight black chin-length hair, and tan skin spoke of Indian ancestry. His deep brown eyes bordered by long black eyelashes held her captive as he spoke. “Certainly. I’ll be by in the morning before I open my shop.”
She gave him a questioning glance. “Which shop do you own?”