Colin's Quest (11 page)

“Take your seats, children.” Sarah stood at the front of the class, watching as boys and girls scrambled to their seats. Within minutes, they sat silent, their hands clasped on top of each desk, staring at her with wide eyes. Touching the brooch for luck, she offered a warm smile to her students. “I’m Miss MacGregor, and I’m your new teacher.”

“Good morning, Miss MacGregor,” an older girl sitting near the back said, followed by a chorus of good mornings.

“It will take some time to get to know your names, so we’ll start now. I’d like each of you to stand, tell me your name and the names of your parents, and how old you are.”

The students were quick to do as she asked until one young boy at the back stood, his gaze focused on the desk in front of him. He didn’t speak a word, his face lifting, eyes wary and frightened.

Sarah saw the boy’s distress and walked up to him, crouching low, speaking in a soft voice. “And what is your name?”

“He’s new. He doesn’t have a name,” the child next to him said. “Doesn’t have parents, either.”

Her heart clenched. She knew children like him existed, but her life on the ranch separated her from the realities of much of town life.

“Is it true? You have no name?”

Shaking his head, he fidgeted, and Sarah could see he fought the urge to run.

“All right. Tell me what name you want to use and it will be so.”

Big, round eyes lifted to hers. “Jamie.” He whispered it so low, she almost missed it.

“Good.” She stood, looking at the rest of the students. “I’d like to introduce Jamie. Please say hello to him.”

She kept an eye on him all day, through his time outside and while he studied. Not once did she see him around other children, nor did he try to join in their games. While outside, he’d sit alone on a stump, watching. When the others opened their sacks for lunch, he sat in stoic silence, busying himself by fiddling with a small stick.

Opening her lunch, she pulled out an apple and walked forward. Talking to the children as she made her way to the back, she casually set the fruit on Jamie’s desk, making no issue of it, then returned to the front. Eating her lunch, she glanced up several times, letting out a breath when his hand moved toward the apple and grasped it.

Finishing the lessons, she excused the students by midafternoon, watching until the last student, Jamie, looked up with a small smile, then dashed out the door. Grabbing her bonnet and reticule, she hurried after him, determined to find out where he lived. Pulling the door closed behind her, she turned and gasped. Wes Bell leaned against the side of the school, arms crossed.

“Good afternoon, Miss MacGregor. I heard you had taken the teaching position.” Giving her his most sincere smile, Wes straightened, offering her his hand as she took the few steps to the ground.

Nodding a greeting while ignoring his hand, she glanced around, trying to spot Jamie. He’d already disappeared.

“Are you headed to your new house?”

She winced, not wanting to engage in conversation, but having little choice.

“Yes, Mr. Bell, I am, and I have much to do. If you’ll excuse me…”

“Miss MacGregor…Sarah, please. Give me a moment of your time.”

Coming to a halt, she turned. It wouldn’t do to be rude to one of the most prominent men in town, even if he represented a day she wanted to forget.

“All right, Mr. Bell.”

“I want to apologize about what happened on your birthday. It hadn’t been planned to embarrass you.”

“Then what did you and my father plan it to be?” Skepticism laced her voice as she crossed her arms.

Taking a step forward, he leaned toward her. “A genuine proposal of marriage.”

“You don’t even know me. Why would you want to spend your life with a woman you’ve barely spoken with in five years, and one who doesn’t love you?”

“Ah, Miss MacGregor, had I gotten to know you better, I’d have noticed much more than your beauty. Believe me, I would have spent time getting to know you before offering for your hand. However, when your father approached me, his urgency was clear. I don’t know his reasons, but he’d made up his mind to find you a husband and he wouldn’t be dissuaded.” When she didn’t comment, Wes continued. “All I ask is a chance to plead my case. Have supper with me tonight.”

“I don’t think that would be wise. If you recall, I’ve never given you the slightest indication of interest in being courted by you. In fact, just the opposite. Besides, I’m already betrothed—”

“To a boy who has never come to claim his prize.”

Sarah glanced away. She’d been plagued by the same thoughts, but wouldn’t allow herself to give up on Colin. In her heart, she knew he’d come.

“My promise knows no limit as to time. Rest assured, Mr. Bell, he
will
come for me.”

“I appreciate your devotion to him, however misplaced. It’s been five years. That’s a long time to wait with no word from him. Do you truly believe he’ll come after all this time?”

Lifting her chin, she glared at him, disliking him more with each comment. “Yes, Mr. Bell. Colin MacLaren will come for me. Of that, I am certain.”

Wes studied her, admiring her spunk, more determined than ever to turn her dedication toward him.

“All right. I’ll no longer attempt to change your mind…
today
. However, I would still like to invite you to supper. You must eat, correct?”

“Yes. However, I’ve already accepted an invitation from Mrs. Olford. Now, I really must be going. Good day, Mr. Bell.”

As she turned to leave, he called after her. “I’ll not give up. You will be seeing more of me, Miss MacGregor.”

Chapter Seven

“We’ll not be able to go further today. Best we find a place to camp for the night.” Colin turned his collar up as the rain pounded down. The trail had already turned into thick lumps of mud, forcing them to ride through the brush where the leaves and thick undergrowth made the ground easier to traverse.

“Up ahead, in those boulders.” Brodie pointed to a spot further off the trail where several large rocks came together, forming a partial shelter, providing some protection from the storm.

Thirty minutes later, they’d found a dry area to start a fire. It had been almost a week since they’d left the girls in Mindell. They’d spoken little about them, although Quinn had mentioned how quiet the ride seemed. Riding with Coral, Pearl, and Opal for several days had allowed them to form a partial bond with the sisters, none more noticeable than Coral’s attachment to Colin.

“I wonder if the reverend found homes for them.” Quinn sipped his coffee, cradling the tin cup between both hands.

“Hope he did. Having two younger sisters to feed, clothe, and keep safe is a big burden for anyone, even for a girl who appears to be as strong as Coral.” Colin sat between his cousins as they huddled against a large boulder.

“At eighteen, she’s a woman, Colin.” Brodie quipped as he tossed out grounds from his cup, then poured more coffee. “All three acted older than their years.”

“You grow up fast when you’re on your own.” Colin leaned his back against the rock, pushing his hat low over his forehead. He didn’t want to think of the girls, preferring to let his mind wander to memories of Sarah.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been running back to her wagon, clutching the brooch tight in her hand. He wondered if her golden brown hair still held wisps of yellow when catching the rays of the sun, and if her bright blue eyes still sparkled when she smiled. She had freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks five years ago. He tried to envision them darkening from work on their farm, spreading to form a thin blanket of color across her face.

At least he thought they’d planned to farm. It’s what the MacGregors had done for generations and he doubted Dougal would change. Angus had said Dougal was a man lost in the past, and it would take a miracle to bring him into the present.

Quinn nudged Colin, pulling him from his thoughts. “Did you hear me?”

“What did you say?” Colin pushed his hat back enough to cast a glance at Quinn.

“I told you he’d been thinking of Sarah.” Quinn grinned at Brodie. “The man has lost his mind over that one.”

“Aye, he has,” Brodie agreed, handing Colin some hardtack and jerky. “How many more days before we can have some real food?”

“If the rain stops, maybe as soon as tomorrow.” Colin took a bite of the hardtack, chewing slowly, then swallowing it down with lukewarm coffee. “The reverend said the first town we’ll come to is River City. The last he’d heard, the town had close to two thousand people, a few restaurants, and one hotel.”

“Any saloons?” Quinn chuckled before a sharp shove from Brodie sent him sprawling. “Ach. What was that for?”

“For asking an eejit question. Of course they have saloons. Right, Colin?”

Standing, Colin rested his hands on his hips, looking down at them. “In my mind, you both are eejits. Of course there’ll be saloons.” At least he hoped so. He figured he’d need at least one drink if he learned the MacGregors had settled in River City. Not for courage to see Sarah, but he’d take whatever fortification he could before confronting Dougal. Even after five years, he didn’t expect the man to have softened his hatred of the MacLarens.

While they ate, the rain had stopped, allowing the ground to dry enough to lay out their bedrolls. Grabbing his blanket, he spread it out near the fire before tossing more sticks into the dwindling flames and lying down. He listened for a few minutes to the good-natured bantering of his cousins before allowing his thoughts to once more turn to Sarah.

Over their weeks of riding, he hadn’t allowed himself to consider the idea she might have found someone else, married, and started a family. All his plans the last five years had been made believing Sarah waited for him.

Colin knew some in his family thought he embarked on a fool’s journey, going after a woman who pledged herself to him at seventeen. Others, including Quinn, Brodie, Blaine, his parents, and uncles, stood by him, encouraging him to make the journey. Most interesting, it was his aunts and female cousins who were the skeptics. His nine-year-old twin sisters, Chrissy and Alana, stood by him, no matter what. They had a vague recollection of Sarah, the girl who’d played with them and read stories of warriors and knights, but not much more. A smile teased his mouth thinking of them. In their minds, he could do no wrong.

Lowering his hat to shield himself from the light of the emerging moon, he closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be Saturday. He wondered what Sarah would be doing. An image of her appeared, eyes sparkling as she glanced over her shoulder at him, holding the brooch to her heart.

“More tea, dear?”

Settling her hand on her stomach, Sarah eyed the remaining cookies, shaking her head. “Thank you, but I believe I’ve had my fill, Mrs. Olford.”

She’d spent Saturday morning at the house, doing laundry and helping Bessie with her mending. Now late afternoon, they had time to speak of her first week teaching, her new house, and the boy, Jamie, who hadn’t missed a day.

“I can’t find out where he lives or if he has parents. The other children tell me he doesn’t, but how else would he live?”

“Describe him to me.” Bessie picked up another cookie, then took a sip of tea. Each year, she and her husband made a trip north to Portland, a growing city of close to four thousand people. The journey gave her a chance to stock up on items in scarce supply in town, such as tea, chocolate, and nuts.

“Jamie is about this tall.” She held a hand above the ground to estimate his height. “He told me he’s eight. His hair is long and dark brown, he has clear, soft gray eyes, some freckles, and a wonderful smile—if I can get him to show it.”

Bessie pursed her lips, trying to picture him. “I can’t think of anyone in our congregation who looks like that and doesn’t have parents. I wonder how he got here.”

“The other children say he showed up in town over the summer. I’d never say this to anyone else, but they think he stays near the back of the buildings, waiting for trash to be tossed out so he could go through it.” Sarah shivered at the thought of any child scrounging in garbage for food.

“Have you tried following him after school?”

“Aye, twice. He’s quick. I think he saw me each time and took off.” Her eyes glittered, remembering him looking over his shoulder, then taking off like a scared rabbit.

“Does he bring food to school?” Bessie leaned forward, curiosity consuming her.

Sarah slumped back in her chair, her heart sinking. “No. I bring a little extra each day, which I try to give him without the other children seeing. I don’t want to embarrass him.”

“You can’t let him starve.” Bessie sympathized. They had two or three almost destitute families in their congregation. People were as generous as possible. Still, parents and children went to bed hungry more than she wanted to consider. With the population booming and new businesses starting, she believed the situation had to be addressed. Perhaps Jamie’s appearance would be what she needed to induce the town council to take action. She pushed the plate toward Sarah. “Pack these cookies up and take them to Jamie on Monday. I should also have some meatloaf for him. Then tell him you have somebody you want him to meet after school and bring him here.”