Heart of Gold (A Gold Rush Romance) (2 page)

Joe didn’t respond or even slow his gait and was nearly out the door before his uncle finished speaking. It was strange enough to take Alice’s mind off the slight beard growing along the man’s jawline, which had absorbed her attention. She turned her thoughts again to the boy as he exited into the sunshine.

There were two things that she felt the need to comment on, but she stuck to the most pertinent one for the time being. “Is he often like this around you?”

Mr. Lancaster sighed and rubbed his hand along the jaw she had been studying a few moments ago. “Before the accident, we seemed to get by just fine together. He was happy to have me around, excited even, and we had a pleasant understanding, I thought. Since his parents passed, though, it’s always like that. He refuses to speak to me, and I have no idea why. He must be frightfully sad, but there seems to be more to it than that. I am trying my best to be friendly and understanding of the difficulty of his loss, but he ignores me. How has he been with you?”

Alice felt uncomfortable telling him the truth. He appeared so demoralized that it hurt her to make him feel worse about his relationship with his nephew. But she knew it was necessary to be honest, if they were going to solve the puzzle of Joe’s behavior. “He was quiet and downtrodden after his parents died, but he seems to have nearly recovered from the shock over the past two weeks. Not happy, precisely, but obedient and focused on his schooling. I have been quite surprised at how well he handled the situation, actually, but Joe has always been mature for his age.”

Joe’s ability to bounce back from such a traumatic situation was nothing short of astonishing. The loss had been so sudden—a stagecoach accident on their way to visit friends—and then Joe was an orphaned child living with his mother’s brother, who had luckily been staying with them at the time. It broke her heart to think what the boy had been through.

And it seemed like his uncle had been through a great deal as well. Why wouldn’t Joe speak to him? She needed to help this man if she could. “Do you think he is worried you are trying to replace his parents? That could be troubling for a young child.”

He considered the idea, rubbing his jaw, which nearly distracted her again. He spoke before she lost herself too deeply in her reverie. “I am sure that could be part of the problem, but it doesn’t seem like that is the only issue. It’s more as if he is… angry with me, for some reason.”

Alice thought about this conundrum. It sounded like an unfortunate circumstance, and she felt for the poor man. She needed to help if she could, and she would need to be as professional as possible. Never mind that half of her mind was demanding she throw herself at him and the other half was shouting to run for the hills and get as far away from this man as she could.

To assist the boy and his guardian, however, she needed to learn more, for she could not yet see the reason Joe would behave this way. There needed to be a clear explanation, if only she knew all the facts. “I will certainly try to help as much as I can. Will you describe some of the situations that have occurred since the accident and his behaviors toward you?”

He looked at her and his lips curved into a slight smile. “Perhaps it would be better if you came over to our house for supper. That way, you will be able to see how we act around each other instead of just hearing my interpretation. Once you have seen us together, I can give any other details that might help. Moreover, we have yet to have a guest for the evening since the incident, and it might be good for both of us. Who better to grace our home with her presence than the schoolteacher?”

She could see exactly what he was doing—it was not subtle, after all—and it sent arcs of excitement and panic flashing through her. He wanted to see her again, and it only made things more difficult. She tried to convince herself that he possibly did just want her to study his relationship with the boy, but his smile told a different story, one that sent her heart to racing again.

She had visited Joe’s home before while Mr. Lancaster was visiting, but had managed to avoid him most of the evening. Joe’s parents had been friendly folk, and had so many acquaintances that there were more than enough people present to keep the situation morally acceptable. But a small intimate dinner, even with Joe there, would be out of the question.

Not that anyone would find it strange he had invited her, of course. She often dined at the homes of her students, just as any teacher would. But this was not the same—not to her and, it seemed, not to him either. She needed to find some way out without appearing rude or dismissive of the problem they were attempting to solve. Finally, she lighted on a possibility. “I would love to accept the invitation, but I must check with the family with whom I lodge, Mr. and Mrs. Leach, to see if they will be available to escort me, if that is acceptable.”

His smile dropped a little, but returned quickly, if more polite than the one before. He nodded. “Of course. I shall expect you tonight, but if you cannot come, we can simply arrange something through Joe. If he ever deigns to speak to me, that is. Otherwise I may be required to come see you again myself.”

She was unsure she could survive many more encounters like this one, particularly if it was unexpected. The thought of him walking in on her alone at the end of the school day was enough to send her mind spiraling out of control. Before she could completely gather her bearings, he stood and took her hand from where it lay on the desk for a last squeeze. “Thank you again, Miss Crenshaw, for your help in this matter.”

Then he walked out the door, leaving her alone in the empty room.

Alice took three deep breaths, trying to get the knots inside her stomach to untwist a little, trying not to picture his arms wrapped tight around her waist, his lips against hers, his hands moving across her body. This was certainly not good and incredibly inappropriate, even if they were nothing more than thoughts and emotions. These sorts of feelings were not an option for a woman in her profession, and here she was falling for this man like a green girl, picturing clandestine meetings between the two of them. Damn and double-damn.

She laughed, her voice echoing back to her. She could not imagine what the school board would do if they could read her thoughts. Between the swearing and the carnal images flashing so vividly through her mind, it would be a miracle if she made it out of town alive.

Occasional reminders from the school board that she needed to adhere to the rules, using the primers and rote memorization instead of rhyming games and what they called “playing” were nothing compared to what would happen if she performed any one of the activities running through her mind.

Alice stood up, resolved. She would take part in a quick chaperoned meal at the man’s house, figure out how to assist him and Joe, and then avoid the attractive Mr. Lancaster as much as possible. It was a simple enough plan.

A few hours later, Alice found herself in front of the large home which Joe had shared with his parents. His father, before he passed, had owned property in Shasta and rented out several gold-mining stakes to miners, and their house reflected their prosperity. It was outside of town, necessitating the use of a carriage, and sat alone, as stately as any of the biggest and oldest homes in the center of Shasta. It was large and white, like the others, but friendlier, somehow. She had always liked this home, found it beautiful and pleasant, but this time the sight was distressing rather than soothing.

Her stomach curled into itself as she alighted from the carriage and walked up the wide porch steps arm-in-arm with her chaperone, Mrs. Leach. The older woman was still quite spry enough to take the stairs on her own, but Alice appreciated the contact and attempted to take strength from the presence of this woman who was so much like a mother to her.

Alice attempted to feel her calm and collected demeanor throughout her body rather than just wearing it on her face, but it did no good. She had mastered the art of appearing proper long ago, but it seemed she had yet to absorb the lessons internally. She reminded herself of her plan to keep her infatuation at bay. One chaperoned dinner where she maintained her propriety, then avoidance of the situation in its entirety.

Her plan seemed far less simple now, though, when Mr. Lancaster opened the door, stunning in his formal attire. She told herself to keep breathing as she nodded to him in greeting.

How could anyone look that attractive? Some black pants and a vest, she tried to tell herself, but it did nothing to soften the effect he had on her. Her insides melted into a warm pool deep inside her.

He ushered the two women in, pressing Alice’s hand with his own for just long enough to send a thrill through her. “It is wonderful to see you again, Miss Crenshaw,” he said, his voice and eyes emphasizing the words so much that they felt like a universal truth rather than just a polite greeting.

She nodded, her mind blank, unable to create a response. His eyes lingered on hers a moment longer, sending smoky tendrils curling through her, and then he turned to Mrs. Leach, Alice’s benefactor and chaperone. “You must be Mrs. Leach. It is a pleasure to meet you. Was Mr. Leach unable to come?”

Mrs. Leach beamed at him, and Alice wanted to shake her head in exasperation. If he could charm everyone, what chance did she have to keep her heart safe? Not that Mrs. Leach was difficult to charm, as she had to be one of the most agreeable women Alice had ever met. Still, it did nothing to help Alice’s predicament.

Mrs. Leach took his hand in both of hers and said, “Mr. Lancaster, the pleasure is all mine. I had Mr. Leach stay with the children tonight. One of our boys has a touch of fever, and who knows what kind of mayhem would occur if we both left for the evening. I thought it best that I be the one to come with Alice. I have spent enough of my days around young boys and their temperaments that I may be of some service.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate any help you can give. Please, come in to the sitting room.”

The two women divested themselves of bonnets and shawls and followed their host to the sitting room, a large open expanse of a room, full of windows and rose-colored furniture and dark wood that was likely very expensive, but still managed to appear warm and welcoming. Joe’s mother had decorated the place with thought and care, and Thomas—Mr. Lancaster—had obviously seen no need to change it.

Alice tried to draw some kind of reassurance from the beautiful surroundings, but it was no use. She was feeling less and less comfortable about this evening and the events unfolding. This man was too impressive for her own good, that much was obvious.

Compared to his suave manner and gallantry, she felt almost clumsy and very inappropriately dressed. Silks and frippery were under no circumstances acceptable attire for a teacher, but anything else seemed out of place beside him. Her calico dress, which closed high at the throat and covered as much of her skin as possible, her tight bun high on her head, felt unbefitting.

She had admired the women who wore fashionable gowns, and often wished she could allow her hair to fall loose against her shoulders, but she had never before felt this type of pure regret for the restrictions that prevented her from partaking in the styles of the day. Any of those ornamented women would look better on his arm than she would in her plain frock.

Alice shook her head slightly, trying to remind herself that nothing could happen between her and the handsome man in front of her, so there was no purpose to her wearing a fancy dress in any case. It would be silly and absurd to imagine his eyes roving slowly over her body, taking in the sight of her in a beautiful dress. There was no reason to wish her dress left more for him to see. He would never look at her like that, let alone run his hands over silky material and exposed skin.

So why was she picturing it? Alice had always known that her imagination, her constantly whirring mind, was a hindrance, but this was really going too far. She would need to be very careful to stay in control of herself, and keep her distance as much as possible.

Thomas was nearly giddy. The intriguing Miss Crenshaw was in his house for the entire evening. He had felt the pull of attraction since he met her at a large supper party he attended with Joe’s parents several weeks ago when he first arrived in Shasta. He had been disappointed when there had not been much time or opportunity for him to get to know her better. She had constantly been engaged with others, and he was forced to follow proper etiquette as the new visitor in town and meet everyone, when all he wanted was to speak to this enchanting woman.

Her bottle-green eyes had caught his interest from the outset—they showed so much more emotion than her calm and pleasant outward demeanor ever displayed. It made him want to know what was happening behind the mask.

And there was more. Just looking at her sent fire through his veins. Something about the petite woman and her slender form, even the way she stood, as if she was constantly on display, called to him. Everything about her was interesting and made him yearn to find out who she was, and the more he had noticed her, the more hints he found that she might not be the person she appeared to be, or at least not only that.

Her tight bun and the plain dresses that hid as much as possible bespoke a no-nonsense schoolmarm, but the way her eyebrows arched, the slight edge in her voice, the curve of her lips, all hinted at a different woman underneath. He wanted to know who that other woman was. The real her. She was intelligent, certainly, and sweet enough. That shone through at all times. But she also seemed like she might perhaps be a little fiery, or possibly even whimsical. Or both. He had no idea, but he was going to work hard to find out.