In Your Arms (Montana Romance) (6 page)

BOOK: In Your Arms (Montana Romance)
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“No,” he said.
“I expect you want to save all your arguing for the academic games. You know you’re going to lose now that I’m coaching a team.”

She
froze, bristling, and turned those dark, fiery eyes on him. Yes, he thought, punish me, lash out at me, show me that fire. He could already feel it coursing through his body in deliciously inconvenient ways for a public place.

“You either grossly over-estimate your own int
elligence or underestimate mine,” she said with measured calm. “I warn you, both are dangerous positions to take.”

“Believe me, I do not underestimate your intelligence,” he said, “or anything else of yours.
But you might want to stop and consider that you’ve flitted between five different shelves without putting a single thing in your basket before you go throwing accusations at me.”

The dark flush on her cheeks was all the proof of victory he needed.
Her jaw was hard as stone as she snatched a tin of spice from the shelf.

“Anise.”
He snorted. “You would pick something pungent like that.”


It soothes the stomach, Mr. Avery.” She threw it into her basket with enough force to dent the tin. “My stomach has been unusually upset lately.”

His lips twitched with the effort not to smile.
He liked her. A lot.

“Then I’ll just have to—”

“I’m looking for Michael West!”

The statement—made in a booming voice by none other than Samuel Kuhn—stopped Christian’s comment and every other conversation in the store.
The sudden silence was as startling as a gunshot. Samuel stood in the front doorway, brushing a dusting of snow off of his black wool coat with one hand and holding Lewis Jones, the stationmaster, fast by the sleeve with the other. He was every bit as irate as he’d been when he slammed the door on Christian the night before. Lewis was easily six inches taller but stood stooped, like he expected Samuel to hit him at any moment.

“Well?” Samuel demanded when the startled shoppers did nothing but stare at him.
“Where is Michael West?”

Several sets of eyes turned to the curtained storeroom door as Michael emerged.
He took one look at Samuel, adjusted his glasses, and glanced to Charlie. Charlie shrugged.

“Can I help you?”
Michael asked, stepping around the counter.

“I most certainly hope you can.
” Samuel dragged Lewis to meet Michael in the space between the counter and the door.

“This man tells me the station office was robbed last night,” Samuel began.

“A window was broke and the till was cleaned out when I got in this morning,” Lewis explained. His shoulders were slumped and he eyed Samuel sheepishly.

“It was the same Indians that robbed my house last night,” Samuel said.

A ripple of gasps and murmuring flew through the store. Christian grimaced. He stepped away from Lily and toward the front of the store to stop Samuel’s nonsense before it infected the whole town.

“I’m sorry to hear about this,” Michael said with a frown.
“Theft is a serious problem.”

“A string of thefts, more like.”
Samuel finally let go of Lewis’s sleeve. “I demand you call a town council meeting so that we can vote to bring in the U.S. Army to stop these marauding Indians!”

More whispers and gasps filled the store.
Jed Archer stumbled out the front door, probably on his way to start rumors.

“Those weren’t Indians who robbed your house last night, Samuel, and I doubt Indians robbed the station office either,” Christian said
loud enough for everyone eavesdropping to hear.

Samuel rounded on him as though he was trying to pick his pocket.
“We have a crime spree on our hands and the justice of the peace refuses to act!”

“I’m not refusing to act, I’m refusing to start a witch-hunt!”

Samuel swayed towards Christian.

Michael held up his hands to stop a fight.
“Did you talk to Kent Porter about this?” he asked Samuel.

“That miserable excuse for a sheriff wouldn’t know what to do with a thief if you dangled one in front of him.”

“I take that as a no,” Michael said.

“I want a town council meeting called,” Samuel pushed on.
“I want the army to come in and take care of this problem. I want all Indians within a fifty mile radius sent packing, starting with that one!” He raised his voice and pointed behind Christian.

Christian turned to see Lily standing
with her back straight, her expression neutral, and her basket held in front of her like a shield. He saw red.

“Leave Miss Singer out of this!”
He rounded on Samuel.

“Why?”
Samuel wasn’t cowed. “She’s the heart of the problem. She allows savage children into the schools like they’re the same as other children. It emboldens the rest of their lot. I want her dismissed.”

“We’re not firing Miss Singer,” Michael said without
hesitation. “Talk to Kent. Get him to investigate the robberies. We’ll go from there.”

“So you refuse to listen to reason?”
Samuel’s moustache quivered in indignation.

“On the contrary,” Christian growled, “Michael’s the only reasonable person I see!”

“We’ll just see about that!” Samuel said.

He didn’t wait for more
. Without a good-bye, he turned and marched out the door into the light morning snowfall. The door shut with a loud clap behind him. The customers who had overheard the conversation muttered to one another in amazement. Lewis stayed where he was, shoulders slumped and eyes twice as wide as they should be.

“I guess I should
go after Jed and see if he can fix the broken window for me,” he said.

“I guess so,” Michael answered with a shrug.

Lewis turned to go. Mrs. Folsom walked out after him asking, “Did I hear you right? Indians are attacking people in Cold Springs?”

Christian
writhed with anger. “You’re just going to let a nasty rumor like that get out?”

Michael handed the box of tea he carried across to Lily.
“It will die down,” he insisted. “Talk to Kent, light a fire under his a—” He glanced to Lily and cleared his throat. “Convince him of the importance of catching the thieves as soon as possible. Get the town focused on something more productive.”

“Like the academic g
ames,” Lily said.

Christian whirled to her, not sure whether to argue the point or support it.

“What better way to calm ruffled feathers and encourage cooperation than by focusing on the town’s children and helping them to shine?” she said.

She muscled her way around Christian to plunk her basket on the counter.
As she let go, Christian noticed her hands shaking. She was quick to hide it, but her shoulders were bunched and her lips were pressed in a line.

“Good
idea, Miss Singer.” Michael nodded. “Can I get you anything else?”

“This will do.”

Lily stared straight ahead while Charlie added up her purchases. More than one of the other shoppers eyed her with suspicion, as though she might rob the store at any moment. It was exactly the kind of nonsense he’d been afraid of. One false accusation and suddenly Lily’s brown skin and dark eyes made her a target instead of a treasure. Worst of all, he could tell by the way she stood that she knew it. Samuel Kuhn had frightened her.

He wanted the man’s head.

 

 

 

Chapter
Six

 

The Cold Springs church had not been built to house the number of people who filled it for Rev. Andrews’s sermon the next morning. A new, larger church was planned for that summer, but in the meantime scores of men and women in their Sunday best sat shoulder to shoulder in the worn pews. More were crammed into folding chairs along the sides of the large room and in the back. A few of the children had been allowed to sit at the front around the podium from which Rev. Andrews delivered his sermon. Their squirming added an air of restlessness to the morning.

Lily sat
on a narrow chair against the wall, wedged between Miss Viola Jones and another of her boarding housemates, Miss Jessica Bunsick. Sweat from the overheated room dripped down her back and stained her bodice. She watched the citizens of Cold Springs instead of listening to the sermon. How many of them thought like Samuel Kuhn?

How many would assume that Indians were responsible for the recent robberies and take their anger out on her?
What if Christian was right about the ripples caused by having the Flathead children at the school?


Therefore, it is our duty as citizens of Cold Springs and brothers and sisters in the Lord’s kingdom to treat each other with Christian charity.” Rev. Andrews addressed his congregation. “We must approach each other with kindness and humility, in times of fellowship and in times of competition.”

She
focused on the children around Rev. Andrews to calm her fraying nerves. One of the Frye girls leaned close to the Twitchel girl sitting next to her, whispering in her ear. Both girls giggled. The Frye girl caught her watching. Lily shook her head slightly and the girl slapped a hand over her mouth. Her bright, child’s eyes glittered with guilt. She knew she shouldn’t, but Lily smiled at the girl and was rewarded with a gap-toothed grin in return.

What if Samuel followed through on his threat to have her removed as a teacher at Cold Springs’s school?
Miserable prickles raced along her skin. It was all she could do not to writhe and weep and jump to her feet to plead with people to see reason. Without teaching, she didn’t know who she was.

Before she could burst into tears at the thought, she felt the unmistakable itch of being watched. Across the aisle, at least a dozen church members between them, Christian was studying her as if she was the sermon. His expression was neutral, but it was still enough to burn her cheeks as bright red as the Frye girl’s. His lips twitched, but if it was with a grin or a sneeze Lily wasn’t in the mood to find out. She snapped her attention to Rev. Andrews.

“And so, let us pray for God’s guidance
in our lives,” Rev. Andrews finished. “Amen.”

The congregation repeated
, “Amen.” The organ burst to life with the final hymn, and somehow Lily managed to rise to her feet. As Miss Jones thumbed through the hymnal they shared, Lily checked on Christian. He wore a full-blown smile now. His shoulders shook with laughter, too much for him to sing. Her heart sank. He was laughing at her.

“Ahem.”
Miss Jones cleared her throat, handing Lily the hymnal at a height that blocked Christian from her view.

The gesture would have been mortifying if Lily hadn’t been so eager for just that kind of
barrier. She held the hymnal in front of her and fumbled through the trite old hymn that she didn’t know. Every note she missed and word she fumbled reminded her that she was not one of these people, that they would turn on her as Samuel had suggested given half a chance.

When the song ended,
before the congregation could funnel to the door, Rev. Andrews raised his hands, calling for silence.


If those parents and townsfolk who have volunteered to help out with the school’s academic games could stay behind, we’re going to pick teams this morning and discuss the rules,” he said.

A
squeal of excitement rose from the children. The room swirled with activity as most of the congregation attempted to leave while a few, like Lily, tried to push their way to the front against the current. Conversations blossomed, filling the church with as much noise as there had been heat. Lily kept her head down, feeling as separate from the people around her as she was from the Atlantic Ocean.

“Did you hear about the robberies?” she overheard
a woman in the press of people. “A gang of savage Indians robbed Samuel Kuhn and Lewis Jones in broad daylight!”

“You don’t say!
” another woman answered. “Indians? I thought the ones near here were peaceful?”

“You can never tell with Indians.”

“That teacher, Miss Singer, is all right.”

“She’s an Indian?
But she seems so nice.”

T
he heat of anger and shame work its way up Lily’s neck. She stopped to look for the source of the comments, ready to give them a piece of her mind.

A
confused and bumbling Jed Archer blocked her path. He flinched at the sight of her, his pale face flushing.

“I…I…I’m sorry, Miss Singer,” he said, then scrambled to get away from her and out the church’s side door.

The shock of frightening a grown man left Lily standing where she was, gaping. First Samuel Kuhn and the people at the store, then the women she had just overheard, and now Jed Archer. If Christian was right….

No, he was not even close to right.
She drew in a breath and smoothed her skirts as though smoothing her nerves. Prejudice was common, but there was a solution. She was a teacher, no matter what opinions Samuel Kuhn held. It was within her power to teach fairness and equality, starting right where she was.

She pushed on to the front of the church, picking her way through the last of the conversations still going on.

“I told Jed he should volunteer to help out with the games,” Miss Archer was saying to Miss Jones as Lily passed, “but he claims he’s busy. Like he has anything to do but visit the saloon these days. Though where he gets the money I don’t know. Mother gives it to him on the sly, I guess.” She sniffed to show just what she thought of that.

The two women noticed
Lily. Miss Archer, barely five feet tall, looked Lily up and down, then tilted her chin up and turned away without moving an inch.

Lily
frowned and stepped around her. She nearly ran into Jessica Bunsick in the process. A tall, ginger-haired man had hold of one of her hands, though the two tried to conceal it.

“Ssh!”
Jessica leaned closer to her. “Don’t tell Miss Jones where I’ve gone. She wouldn’t approve.” She glanced over her shoulder at her beau. Both broke into guilty grins that left no doubt what they were up to.

“I won’t say a thing,” Lily said.

“Thanks!”

A
s Jessica and the man slipped toward the side door, Jessica winked at Lily. The unexpectedly friendly gesture threw Lily off-balance. She and Jessica had lived under the same roof for months and were not unfriendly, but her wink was conspiratorial, as if they were friends. But she was a teacher. Teachers didn’t need friends.

She was still puzzling over it
as she reached the first row of pews.

“I saved a seat for you right here,
Miss Singer,” Christian scooted to the side and patted the space he vacated. “I knew you would want to be front and center for this.”

Without thinking, Lily took the seat.
The scent of cedar and tobacco made her heart beat faster. The seat was warm, heating her further. The grin on Christian’s face when she glanced to him didn’t help her raw nerves. The room buzzed with hurtful gossip about Indians, Jessica had treated her as a friend, and Christian was grinning at her as if it were a peaceful and pleasant Sunday.

She had felt safe in his arms.
Maybe if she found herself in them again, the rest of the confusion and turmoil would go away. Maybe….

“I can’t do this.”
She rose. “I must discuss the teams with Mr. Prescott.”

She marched ahead through the thinning crowd to where Hal Prescott stood chatting with Rev. Andrews
, shaking her head to clear it. She wouldn’t look back. Christian’s grin would only irritate her, and with so many townspeople around, she had to keep her wits about her. There was too much to prove and too much to lose.

“Mr. Prescott, may I speak to you before we begin?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss Singer.” Neither Mr. Prescott nor Rev. Andrews seemed to mind the interruption. “I was just telling Rev. Andrews here how instrumental you’ve been in organizing these games. Miss Singer brought the idea with her from the school where she taught in Chicago.”

Lily blinked under the unexpected praise.
Nothing about this morning was what she expected.

“What a wonderful idea
to bring with you, Miss Singer,” Rev. Andrews said. “The whole town is looking forward to it.”

“Mr. Prescott, I have a request for you about the teams,” she began, not knowing how to address the compliment.

“Anything you need, Miss Singer.” Mr. Prescott smiled.

Lily glanced from him to Rev. Andrews.
They would think she was a fool. They would think she was breaking the rules. Perhaps she should keep silent and let fate take its course.

“Good morning, Hal, Reverend.
” Christian crept up behind her. “Lovely morning, isn’t it.”

He touched the small of her back.
It was only for the briefest of moments, but the shock of energy that shot through her jolted her and strengthened her resolve.

“Mr. Prescott, I would like to request that all of the Flathead children attending our school, Red Sun Boy, Martha, Henry Otter, and Sees
The Clouds, be assigned to the team I will coach.”

Mr. Prescott met her request with a blank expression.
“Oh. We had discussed picking teams the old fashioned way, hadn’t we?” He gestured to his wife. She sat in the second pew holding an old top hat and neat bundles of slips of paper with each student’s name written on them.

“I think it’s a grand idea,” Christian said.

“Oh?”

“Yes.
Especially since Miss Singer and I have a little side-bet going.”

Mr. Prescott turned to her, one eyebrow arched.

She could have stomped on Christian’s foot. He was making her look like a fool.

Safe in Christian’s arms?
More likely it was a trap to lull her into complacency.

“Mr. Avery believes the Flathead children are a danger to the peace and discipline of the school and the town by extension.
I wish to prove to him that all children, regardless of race, can work together and win.”

Mr. Prescott’s smile grew.
“What a noble idea.” He glanced to Christian and his expression shifted to teasing. “Is that why you volunteered to coach a team?”

Christian had the gall to look sheepish.
“Yes.”

Mr. Prescott chuckled.
“Let’s see what the other coaches and judges think. Ladies and gentlemen.” He turned to the now mostly empty church and gestured for the remaining parents and townspeople to be seated.

Christian attempted to escort Lily back to his pew.
She dodged away from him and took a seat at the far end. Michael and Charlie West with their baby, Phineas Bell, and Eric and Amelia Quinlan and their baby sat between them. It still wasn’t enough of a barrier.

Across the aisle,
Samuel Kuhn and his wife sat with two other couples she recognized as parents of younger students. They were all new to town and dressed in fine clothes. They had their heads together, whispering and glaring at her, disapproval on display along with their wealth.

“Welcome,” Mr. Prescott began.
“I know you’re all eager to get home to your Sunday dinners, so I’ll make this quick. We’re here today to prepare for Friday’s academic games. Mr. Michael West has agreed to stand up as our moderator on Friday night. His wife, Charlie, Amelia Quinlan—who you know used to be a governess in England—Phineas Bell, and Angus and Sadie McGee have agreed to be judges and to put together a list of questions for the competition.”

The assembled parents and townspeople nodded.
Eric Quinlan gave his wife a proud smile and rested his arm around her shoulder. She returned his affection with genuine fondness. A hint of longing tugged at Lily’s heart. She glanced to Christian before she could stop herself, only to find him staring at her.

She
snapped her full attention to Mr. Prescott.

“Now, before we pick teams, Miss Singer has made a request.”

Everyone present looked at her. She sat up and kept her expression neutral.

“She has asked that the four Flathead children attending our school be assigned to her team as a sort of social experiment.”

Lily flushed. She heard murmurs in the pew behind her.

“We have Indian children at the school?” Lucinda Frye asked.

“Don’t worry, we are working to get rid of them,” Samuel answered. His wife gave him an approving pat on the arm. Lily’s skin crawled.

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