Falling for the Teacher

He started forward, then stopped. He’d never overtake them on the straight road. He eyed the distance to the incline where the road made a sharp bend at the top, judged the angle required to get in front of the careening buggy, and reined Cloud into the field. “Let’s go, boy!” He kicked him into a run, watching the buggy. If they entered that curve before he reached them...

The gelding raced through the tall grasses, gathered itself and jumped a small creek, pounded along the beaten path that led from the water to a copse of trees that bordered the low hill and the Gardner farm. A quick glance at the dangerously swaying buggy showed they’d gained ground and would beat the buggy to the hill.

Trees broke across his vision. He jerked his gaze to the narrow path ahead, leaned low to avoid overhanging branches and urged Cloud on, picturing the area in his head. The stock path trailed left away from the road, but there was a break in the trees... There! He reined Cloud right, heard pounding hoofs and glanced over his shoulder. Frothy sweat covered the heaving chest of the panicked horse running toward them, flew from its driving haunches. Close.

“Come on boy!” He kicked his heels, and Cloud leaped forward, thundering onto the road a short distance in front of the wild-eyed runaway, his muscles bunching and stretching to maintain his small lead. “Steady, boy, steady.”

He risked another glance over his shoulder and glimpsed the two Conklin women in a tumbled heap in the driver’s corner of the seat, no reins in sight. “Put on the brake!” One of the women lunged for the brake lever. He turned back, leaned forward as they started up the grade. Please, Lord, let this work!

Cloud raced on beneath his urging. He tilted his head toward his shoulder, listened to the thundering hoofs behind him and risked turning for another look when their pounding rhythm slowed. Their lead had increased. It was working! The applied brake and the slope of the hill were proving too much for the tiring horse.

“Ease up, boy.” He slowed Cloud and reined him to the left. The runaway caught up and ran with them neck and neck. He leaned down, grabbed for the cheek strap of the horse’s bridle, missed and tried again. The leather strap tugged against his fingers. He tightened his grip, the muscles of his arm and shoulder fighting the force of the horse’s thrusting head. “Easy, girl. Easy...”

He settled deeper in the saddle, tugged harder—the mare’s head turned, its gait faltered. He held the straining head facing him and reined in Cloud, forcing the mare to slow her wild run. They entered the sharp bend at a trot, the buggy swaying wildly but remaining upright. “Whoa, girl. It’s all right. Everything is all right.” He kept his voice low, talked the horse calm as he slowed Cloud to a walk, then stopped.

“Good girl.” Cole tightened his grip on the cheek strap and slipped from the saddle, willing his hands and voice to stay steady as he reached to where the reins passed through the terrets on the harness saddle and grabbed hold. That had been close! Too close. He loosed his grip on the cheek strap and stroked the mare’s quivering, sweat-covered neck. The bay dropped its head and barreled air into its heaving chest.

He turned, playing the dangling reins through his firm grip as he stepped to the buggy. Enid and Chloe Conklin were untangling themselves from the corner of the seat. “Are you ladies all right?”

“Seems so.” Enid’s voice shook. She tugged her hat to rights and looked down at him, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock. “Thank you, Mr. Aylward. You saved us from a sure accident.” She grabbed the dashboard and scooted over on the seat, giving Chloe room. “Fool mare! I don’t know what spooked her like that.”

“It was a fox, Mother. I saw it run across the road.” Chloe pushed herself to a sitting position, twisted her bodice into place and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m so thankful you happened along, Mr. Aylward. I lost the reins when I grabbed hold of the dashboard to keep from being thrown out of the buggy.”

“I’m glad to have been able to help.” He glanced at her trembling hands, turned and fastened the reins to a sturdy branch. “I’ll look the buggy over, make sure nothing’s broken.” He tugged his handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the sweat and grit from his face, then stepped to the driver’s side and checked the wheels and hubs. The undercarriage looked fine. A rustle of fabric drew his attention. He glanced over his shoulder and watched Chloe climb from the buggy and turn toward the horses.

“You’d best move slow and speak quiet, Miss Conklin. That mare could be spooked easy right now.”

She turned and smiled. “It’s your horse I’m going to pet, Mr. Aylward. He has a brave, staunch heart—like his owner. He deserves our thanks. As do you.” Pink flowed into her cheeks. Her smile warmed. “I’ll be careful.”

He nodded and turned back to finish his inspection, man enough to dwell on the meaning of that blush and feel a little set up by it. His ego had taken quite a beating since Sadie Spencer had returned.

“Of all the days for Henry to have to stay home from church! I hope that foal he was waiting to help birth proves out steadier than this new mare.” Enid Conklin peered out of the buggy toward him. “Everything all right?”

“So far.” He walked to the back of the buggy, peered beneath, then moved on to check the other wheels and finally the traces. “I don’t see any sign of damage, Mrs. Conklin, but you’d best have Henry give things a closer look when you get home.”

“I’ll do that. And he can get rid of this fidgety mare, too.” A scowl pulled Enid Conklin’s brows together. “I don’t aim to have another ride like this one again.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” He loosed the reins from the branch and handed them up to the older woman, who had taken the driver’s seat.

“I thank you for reminding us to pull on the brake, young man. I forgot all about it in the struggle to keep from being thrown out, but I should have remembered. Henry won’t be pleased about that. I’m not.”

“I’m sure Henry will be so pleased you and Miss Conklin are safe, he won’t give it a thought.”

“Perhaps.” She smiled down at him. “I’d like to thank you proper, Mr. Aylward, and I’m sure Henry will, too. Would you come for dinner?”

“What a lovely idea, Mother.”

Chloe stepped up beside him, leading Cloud. The warmth, the interest in her eyes was balm for the fear in Sadie Spencer’s eyes whenever he came near her, but Sadie might be the wiser of the two. She was certainly the one that drew him. He held back a frown.

“I hope you are able to join us, Mr. Aylward. It would give you and your horse a chance to cool off before you ride on home. Our house stays fairly cool, even during a day as hot as this one.” Chloe smiled and held out her hand toward him.

He took Cloud’s reins, careful not to let his hand touch hers. He’d been very cautious about even a casual, accidental touch of a young woman these past four years. “I’m afraid not. I have to get to the Townsends’ place. Manning is waiting for me.” He shifted his gaze to Enid. “I thank you for the kind invitation, Mrs. Conklin.” He mounted, feeling boorish for not helping Chloe into the buggy, but she was too friendly to encourage. “I’ll ride along with you until the turnoff to make sure everything is all right. Let’s go, boy.”

Cloud moved out in front of the buggy, and he held him at a walk, giving the Conklins’ new mare no chance to break into a run. He was already late and wanted no more trouble. Manning would be wondering where he was. Manning. He huffed out a breath. It wasn’t the image of the elderly man’s gray-bearded face that had been filling his head all during church.

He looked down and brushed at the dust on his suit, scowled at the small, jagged tear in the right sleeve. He’d hoped when Sadie saw him in his Sunday clothes it would help set him apart from Payne in her eyes. That she’d at least entertain consideration of him as an upstanding, churchgoing man and look at him with respect instead of disgust and fear. There was little hope of that now.

He lifted a hand in farewell as he passed the turnoff to the Conklin farm and urged Cloud into an easy lope.

* * *

“Joshua and Sally sound absolutely delightful, Willa. How fortunate they are to have you for their mother.” Sadie rose and reached for the teapot to hide the sorrow and regret that surely showed on her face. She would never be a mother. Payne Aylward had destroyed that dream.

“And Matthew for their father.” Willa smiled and held out her empty cup. “It took a while before they stopped calling him Uncle and me Miss Wright, but we are Mama and Papa to them now. God has made us into a true family. I never knew such love was possible.”

There was a warm contentment in Willa’s voice. A yearning to know such happiness swept through Sadie. She frowned at the foolish hope, poured Willa more tea, then refilled her own cup. She would gladly settle for freedom from fear, and peace of mind. “I’m truly happy for you, Willa.” Honey dribbled from the spoon she held over the top of her tea. “And for Callie as well. Is she as happy as she writes in her letters?”

“Oh my, yes.” Willa lifted one of Gertrude’s ginger cookies onto her plate. “Ezra adores her. But then, with her beauty and sweetness, what man wouldn’t? Except for my Matthew.”

There was that sound of contentment again. Sadie lowered her spoon and made figure eights, swirling the honey through the dark liquid in her cup, acutely aware of how much her cowardice had cost her. There were so many things she could never get back. “Has she truly grown that beautiful?”

“Gracious, yes! Wait until you see her. She and Ezra are in New York City at present. There was some sort of business deal that required his presence.” Willa laughed and gave a small shake of her head. “God’s ways never cease to amaze me, Sadie. Callie fled here from Buffalo to escape the rich men vying for her hand and wound up married to a man wealthier than all of them.”

“Yes, she wrote me of that. And Ellen wrote that she is enjoying her position as the beauty of the social set in Buffalo, now that Callie has married.” She held back a frown and took a sip of her hot, sweetened tea. Such pleasure was beyond her imagining. She’d spent the past four years hiding from men behind the seminary’s brick walls.

“I’ve tried to explain to Ellen that mutual love and trust are important in a marriage, but she brushes such things aside. She cares only that the man she marries can provide the fancy lifestyle she craves.”

Time to change the subject. She had no desire to talk about the various aspects of marriage. “How is Daniel?”

Willa set down her cup and looked at her. “Daniel is fine...as I wrote you in my last letter. My mother and her husband are fine. Ellen’s parents are fine. Sophia is fine. Her new restaurant in the hotel is doing very well and she is prospering. The new bank Ezra built and the freight-hauling business he started have brought new prosperity to Pinewood. There have been no major accidents or illnesses and no deaths since my last letter. I believe that covers the town and its residents. There’s no one else for you to hide behind, Sadie.”

She stiffened and brushed back a lock of hair sticking to her moist forehead. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. But it won’t work. We’re going to talk about you.” Willa’s voice was soft but firm. “If Matthew hadn’t come to call on your grandparents today, I wouldn’t even have known you were here. Why didn’t you write me you were coming home? Or send word that you’d arrived?”

“There wasn’t time to write.” She put down her cup and met Willa’s questioning gaze. “When I read Callie’s letter telling me about Poppa’s seizure, I went straight to the headmistress and resigned my position, then I packed my bags and hired a cabriolet to take me to the station so I could catch the next stage to Buffalo.”

“You’re not returning to the seminary?” There was a hesitant joy in Willa’s voice.

“No. My place is here, caring for Nanna and Poppa.” She rose, stepped to the railing and looked out at her grandmother’s garden. “I confess I’d hoped I could stay and care for them in the safety of Sophia’s hotel. When I learned they’d come home, I—It was...difficult...to come back here.” She leaned over the railing and plucked a rose from the climbing bush, sniffed its sweet fragrance. “Nonetheless, I should have done so when you first wrote me of your concerns over Nanna’s confusion. Instead, I told myself her lapses of memory were nothing serious because I was too much of a coward to come home and face...everything.”

The legs of Willa’s chair scraped the floor and her footsteps neared. “You are not a coward, Sadie. Any woman would flee after—”

“Not you, Willa. You stayed and faced the humiliation when Thomas left town. And Callie stood against her parents and those men who thought they could buy her for a wife.”

“Oh, Sadie, you ascribe me virtue and courage I do not possess. I thought of leaving Pinewood when Thomas deserted me, but I couldn’t leave Mama, so I hid behind a lie. And Callie fled from her unpleasant situation at home. We’re no different than you.” Willa grasped her arm and tugged her around to face her. “God delivered us from our troubles and fears and blessed us with love and happiness. And though our problems did not compare to yours—to what happened to you—He is able to do the same for you, Sadie. And I know He will. Trust Him.”

She drew her arm away so Willa would not feel the shudder passing through her at the thought of married life. “I’m happy for you and Callie, Willa, but I do not want a husband. I do not want any man but Poppa to even touch me, now or ever! All I ask of God is the wisdom and strength to stay and care for Nanna and Poppa in spite of my fear.”