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“But,” she continued, “I won’t allow any child to disrupt my classroom or my other students. That’s why I had to ask you to come collect Eli yourself today.”
Daniel fisted his hand, frustration evident in every line of his hardened body. “I can’t keep leaving my blacksmith’s shop like this. I need to earn my living.”
“You need to be a father to Eli.”
He shook his head. “That’s not enough.” He wheeled around, his expression newly determined. “What I need is a wife. A good one.”
That again. He couldn’t be serious. Daniel McCabe was the most well-known scoundrel in the northern part of the territory. Although Sarah hadn’t captured his heart for herself, she knew she didn’t have to worry about another woman accomplishing that miracle, either. Daniel didn’t honestly want a bride. The very idea was outlandish. He was simply overwrought right now because of Eli’s shenanigans.
She shelved another book, then gave him a complacent wave. “A ‘good’ wife, hmmm? I may be wrong, Daniel, but I don’t think you’re in any position to be dictatorial.”
He snorted. His raised eyebrows made her smile. Clearly, the notion that he might not always be in command of things came as an astonishment to him.
“A wife will take care of Eli,” he said, his enthusiasm for taking a bride undimmed. “A wife is what I’ve needed all along. I should have gotten myself one weeks ago.”
“You can’t order a wife from the Bloomingdale Brothers’ catalog, like a new suit.”
But Daniel wasn’t listening. He was running his hand through his hair again, thinking. He pulled his palm away and frowned anew.
“I’ve pulled out more hair than I thought these past weeks. At this rate, I’ll be bald before winter’s out.”
She glanced downward, bemused. Nothing had changed—Daniel still possessed enough thick, dark hair for a man and a half. Besides, he’d still be handsome to her, even with no hair at all. Sarah wanted to tell him so, to put his mind at ease. But experience had taught her better than that.
Instead, she settled on, “Bald, eh? All right, then. I guess you’d better hurry up with that wife business.”
“Hmmph.”
Pointedly, she peered at the crown of his head. “You wouldn’t want to scare away any potential brides.”
Amid another surreptitious examination of his locks, he stilled his hand. “They’re that fussy?”
As a spinster herself, Sarah had no idea. But she knew Daniel didn’t, either. So she nodded knowledgeably. “The savvy ones are. The ones who want a husband with a full head of hair.”
He furrowed his brow, looking increasingly worried. She felt a little deceitful, carrying on this way. But she simply couldn’t resist. It wasn’t often Daniel was uncertain about anything—especially anything to do with women. Besides, this was all in fun. He’d forget the whole idea by tomorrow.
“But you don’t want a potential bride who scares easily,” she cautioned. “That wouldn’t do.”
He nodded, encouraging her. Perhaps foolishly.
“You need someone with fortitude,” she opined.
Another nod.
“Someone who’s organized,” she offered. “Someone who’s efficient and orderly.”
He made a face. “I’m not opening a mercantile. I’m getting hitched.”
Noncommittally, she shelved another book. Daniel was taking this far too seriously. Ordinarily, the two of them teased each other often. But this time…a prickle of unease nagged at her. Could Daniel really mean to find himself a wife?
Before Sarah could contemplate the matter further, a rustle at the schoolhouse doorway alerted her to another presence in the room. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Hello, Emily.”
The nine-year-old girl murmured a quiet greeting.
“Your slate is there at your desk, right where you left it. I thought you might be back for it.”
“Thank you, Miss Crabtree.”
Emily snatched up her slate and ran out, pigtails flying. Satisfied, Sarah blew a dust mote from her shelf and resumed working.
Below her, Daniel glanced out the window. Emily—one hand protectively on her hair—was making her way cautiously around Eli. After she’d passed, the boy went back to hopping.
“How did you know who that was?” Daniel asked. “You didn’t even turn around.”
She shrugged. “This is my job. Just like your new mercantile will be your job. Yours and your organized new bride’s.”
He did not take the bait. He only went on discussing his impending marriage…as though it might actually take place.
“All I need is a woman who’s amenable,” Daniel said, his usual certainty firmly in place. “And knowledgeable about children. That should be easy enough to find.”
Sarah rammed in another volume. She’d had just about enough. A jest was a jest, but this… Daniel was beginning to sound downright resolute about finding a wife. Even worse, he’d already rejected her as a candidate! No matter that he didn’t know it yet. Those wifely qualities she’d suggested to him—bravery, fortitude and keen skills in the areas of organization, efficiency and order? They happened to be some of her personal best. He’d dismissed them out of hand.
A woman who’s amenable. And knowledgeable about children.
Hmmph. She possessed plenty of amenability. And who could be more knowledgeable about children than a schoolmarm?
It wasn’t that she wanted to make herself a potential candidate. Not exactly. Not for an arrangement like this. Sarah wanted a love match. She wanted Daniel. She’d already made up her mind to wait until she could have both. This new scheme of his was trying her patience in the extreme, though.
Experimentally, she plastered an amenable simper on her face. She glanced down to gauge its effect.
Daniel looked oblivious. He’d crossed his arms over his broad chest and was studying the pine plank floorboards.
“She should be passing fair to look at, too,” he said decisively, adding another item to the list of his potential wife’s qualifications. “That wouldn’t hurt.”
His anticipatory chuckle got her dander up. Sarah shoved in the next book. There were any number of women who were “passing fair to look at” in Morrow Creek. Not one of them was good enough for Daniel. Or Eli, for that matter.
She’d obviously have to do something about this. Scuttling her plans to give Daniel time to realize the obvious—that they were meant for each other—Sarah set her expression in a dubious frown. The amenable simper hadn’t felt a natural fit, anyway.
“Having a wife might help,” she agreed as she put away a book of poetry. “But on the other hand…”
At her hesitation, Daniel squinted upward impatiently. Just as she’d known he would.
“Out with it, Sarah. ‘On the other hand,’ what?”
“On the other hand, planning a wedding can require an awful lot of time. Time you don’t have, as you pointed out yourself.”
“Fine. I’ll let my bride plan the wedding.”
Oh, that would be lovely! Seduced by the very thought, Sarah let her imagination run unchecked. Visions of a fairy-tale wedding swirled in her head—a wedding between her and Daniel. Her imagination dressed her in her finest gown and Daniel in a fancy suit. Eli carried flowers. The whole of Morrow Creek gathered for a celebration fit to rival even her sister Molly’s grandiose marriage to Marcus Copeland last month.
She would serve spice cake from her sister’s bakery, Sarah determined, and memorize all her vows….
“Because I don’t have time to waste,” Daniel said, interrupting her reverie. “Eli needs a woman’s influence. Now.”
Her daydream popped like so many soapsuds. But perhaps there was still a way to salvage this situation.
“Are you sure there’s not more to it than that?” Sarah glanced downward. Her heart squeezed painfully at the sight of him. “Maybe there’s another reason you want a wife.”
Like love. Longing. An overly delayed realization that your ideal partner has been here all along, alphabetizing dusty tomes about literature and history.
He scoffed. She wanted to kick herself for voicing the question at all. Aggravated, Sarah shelved the next book. She often forgot herself around Daniel. They’d been friends for so long.
Her family always said that her tendency to ignore the obvious—usually in favor of some dreamy notions of her own—would get her in trouble someday. Dangling her lovelorn hopes in front of a confirmed bachelor like Daniel McCabe most definitely counted as trouble.
Well. She’d simply stop doing that, then. Easy as that.
“Steady my ladder, would you, please?” Sarah asked briskly, needing very much to move on. “I want to grab that next pile.”
Instead of doing as she’d asked, Daniel slid the stack of books from her desk himself. Effortlessly, he offered up the heavy volumes one by one. Then he absently steadied her ladder with both big hands on a lower rung. She felt its wooden frame wobble with the impact, then turn as solid as the earth beneath Eli’s kicking feet.
That was Daniel, Sarah reflected. He set her off balance without even knowing it…yet always remained nearby for her to rely upon.
Although she’d never have revealed as much to him, his presence was the aspect of her day she looked forward to most. Between planning lessons, grading schoolwork and traversing the path between her schoolhouse and the Crabtrees’ lively household, Daniel was always in her thoughts. Without him, her days would feel half as sunny…and twice as lonely.
An unwelcome thought occurred to her. What if he found a disagreeable wife? One who disapproved of their friendship?
Obviously, she could not leave such an important decision up to Daniel. Sarah decided to return to the reason for his newfound interest in matrimony—the wayward boy he’d found unexpectedly in his charge.
“About Eli,” she began. “I know you’ve had your share of troubles with him, but I’m not so certain he needs a woman’s influence. After all, you’re a capable man who—”
“Does my smithing fire need its pit to contain it?”
Oh, dear.
“I’ve decided,” Daniel said. “That’s that.”
No. That most definitely wasn’t “that.” It couldn’t be. If Daniel got himself a wife, he’d be lost to her forever. Desperately, Sarah cast about for another tactic.
“And you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“Do you also need a woman’s influence?”
His hearty laughter rang out. She’d have sworn it rocked the very ladder she stood upon. Sarah clutched its top rung, then ladled some starch in her voice.
“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?”
