Romancing the Schoolteacher (10 page)

“You look fetching yourself. Is that dress new?”

The pink silk had a wide neckline with lace and intricately folded fabric down the front of the skirt. “No. I just don't get much opportunity to wear it. It's not appropriate for the schoolroom.” And several years out of fashion.

“It's quite fancy.”

Oh, dear, he knew. She shouldn't have worn this dress. She should have chosen something more ordinary. If tonight was to be special, as she originally thought, she had wanted to look her best.

When the food arrived, the nausea Bridget had kept at bay rolled inside her. She was going to be ill if she didn't distract herself.

Lindley bowed his head and said a prayer over their food. Right there in public. He even prayed for the evening to go well.

She hoped it went well too as she picked at her salmon, taking the smallest of bites.

“Is your meal all right?” He pointed with his fork.

“Oh, yes, it's fine.”

“You don't seem to be eating.”

Trying to act normal obviously wasn't working. “I don't have much of an appetite, I guess.”

“Bridget.” He set his fork down. “I'm afraid I have misjudged things.”

“How so?”

“I had hoped this evening would be the start of something between us.” He gently laid his hand on hers resting upon the table. “But you seem nervous to be alone with me.”

She fought the urge to jerk free out of self-preservation. But at the same time, she relished his warm touch.

He slipped his hand under hers and gently held it. “I like you. Very much.”

And she liked him. She raised her gaze to him for the first time that evening.

Earnestness embedded in his eyes. “I thought—or rather, hoped—you felt the same. If I was mistaken, I'm truly sorry.” He didn't sound like a Pinkerton.

Her apprehension fell away. “You weren't mistaken.”
Please don't break my heart.

The corners of his lips curved up. “There's something I've been wanting to ask you— No. First, there's something I must tell you. I'm not really a miner.”

Her breath froze in her chest. She had surmised that already.
Please, not a Pinkerton either.
She slipped her hand from his and smoothed her napkin. Her words came out in a squeak. “You're not?”

“I work for one of the investors of the mine. My father-in-law. The mine wasn't making the profit that the numbers said it should. He wanted me to find out if there was a more efficient way of running the operation. If the workers were stealing and things like that.”

She stared at him, turning his words over in her mind. Not a Pinkerton. “So that really is your suit.” What an idiotic comment.

He furrowed his brow. “Whose else would it be?”

“A real miner wouldn't be able to afford such a suit.” His confession solidified in her brain. He had been pretending to be someone he was not. “But since you are not a
real
miner, you
obviously
can.” Anger rose inside her. “I felt
sorry
for you
and
your children. I know how hard it is for the miners to feed their families, and you with no garden to help put food on the table. You really
can
afford to eat here, can't you?”

“I thought that would be good news. I have no problem providing for myself and my children.”

No wonder he'd
hired
someone to look after Dora when he'd first arrived. He
had
the money to. But he must have thought better of it when he realized he shouldn't be able to afford it.

“I feel like such a fool. Quite gullible, I am. Tell me anything, and I'll believe it.” On the verge of tears, she blinked rapidly but from shame rather than fear this time. This was nothing to cry about. He wasn't a Pinkerton. Fear, anger, shame, relief and a dozen other emotions tumbled around inside her.

“I'm sorry for misleading you. I had a duty and a job to fulfill. I had hoped you would understand.” His eyes pleaded.

Understand? Yes, she understood. Better than most. He was
not
a Pinkerton come to drag her back. The realization wrapped around her like a warm quilt. She was not at risk.

Mirth bubbled up inside her.

He had been brave enough to confess and trust her. Should she, as well?

Her mother had taught her not to diminish a man by turning the focus from him. Let him have his moment and find another time to reciprocate if need be.

She didn't want to spoil the evening with another confession. One was certainly enough.

Maybe tomorrow after church.

* * *

Finally, a smile.

Lindley breathed a little easier with the weight of his pretense lifted. Tension seemed to drain from her whole demeanor, releasing her. He allowed himself to relax a little, as well. But she still hadn't said anything.

He had worked his insides into knots with worry over how she would react. And from the time he'd arrived at her home until now, she'd seemed nervous and aloof. Before he'd even confessed. Maybe she had sensed something was amiss from the start.

He'd wanted to tell her sooner but didn't know how and was afraid it would affect his job and others would discover his purpose. He had been ordered to tell no one. Only Mr. Keen had known his true intentions in being at the mine. “Please say you understand.”

Finally, she spoke. “I admit that I was a bit taken aback, but I do understand. I mean, you were working for the mining company, in a sense. Just in a different capacity.” She took a sizable bite of her salmon.

“Yes, I was.”

She swallowed. “You never quite seemed like the other miners.”

So she
had
noticed. “I didn't? What gave me away?”

“For starters, your clothes.” She took another bite.

Pleased to see her finally eating, he said, “I bought the same clothes as the other miners wore. I even made them dirty so they would appear worn.”

“Yes. But they still looked new. And the dirt on both you and your children didn't seem natural. I asked myself why you would purposefully sully your clothes. I could never figure it out.”

He had wrongly assumed that dirty was dirty. “So, what else?”

“Your hands.”

He turned his hands over. They were calloused from the past two months of physical work. Traces of mine dust and grime were still embedded under his nails.

“When you first arrived, they didn't look as though they had seen a hard day's work. Unlike now.”

“Oh, they have seen plenty of hard work, just not in recent years. It actually felt good to do physical labor again. There is something quite satisfying about it. Anything else?”

“Your diction.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Your manner of speech, and you used words the average miner would not. Then there was your concern for Gabe's grades. Though a lot of the miners are grateful their children can get more schooling than themselves, they don't value it. They know their sons and daughters will end up doing the jobs they do and wouldn't use an education.”

He shook his head. “And here I thought I was doing so well at blending in.”

She actually gave a small laugh at that. And before long, she had eaten all her supper.

He was glad to see that her appetite had returned. Now maybe the evening wouldn't be a loss.

* * *

Bridget had savored every bite of her meal, relieved Lindley wasn't a Pinkerton come to take her home. On the morrow, she would disclose her own pretense, though nothing as elaborate as his.

After supper, he escorted her down by the harbor and to the end of the dock, where waves gently lapped at its pillars. Moonlight danced on the water's surface. A gentle breeze carried in the salty air.

A perfect evening.

Lindley shifted his position. “The mining-company investors are hosting a party next Saturday. Businessmen and other potential investors from across the islands and the mainland will be here. I would very much like you to accompany me.”

Mainland? “You don't want me at some fancy party.” In fact, she couldn't go. It would be most unwise.

Facing her, he took her hand. “I
want
you at my side.”

She didn't miss the deeper meaning to his earnest words. She
very much
wanted to be at his side. But if the wrong person saw her, the past three years would have all been for naught. “I don't have an appropriate dress for such an occasion.”

He held out her arm and glanced down her dress. “This will do just fine.”

That was kind of him, but she knew better. This dress would pale in comparison with the gowns of the other ladies who would likely be in attendance. But it would be plenty fancy for a schoolteacher.

“Please?” He squeezed her hand in both of his.

She should say no.

But she wanted to go.

But it was unwise.

But her heart cared naught for wisdom.

Careful,
her head cautioned.

She held a great deal of fondness for Lindley and his children. Enough to risk everything? What were the chances that there would be anyone attending who would know her or recognize her? “Very well. I'd love to go.” Her heart won out over good sense. She was both thrilled and terrified.

“Thank you.” He pressed his lips to her hand, causing a tingle to radiate up her arm and through her body.

And she knew she was in love. She would risk most anything for him.

He tucked her arm around his and walked her home.

* * *

As she turned to retreat inside, Lindley touched Bridget's arm to stay her.

She gazed up at him.

“Tonight I was hoping to ask you— Well, I wanted to ask long before tonight.” He took a deep breath. “May I court you?” There, he'd said it. And now his heart thundered so hard in his chest it hurt, and he was sure she could hear it.

She smiled demurely. “I would like that very much.”

“You would?” That was the answer he had wanted, but he still couldn't believe it.

“Yes, I would. I do have one more week of school. It would be best to wait until it's concluded.” She gazed up at him.

He caressed her cheek with his fingers. The emotions he'd held at bay broke free, knowing she felt the same. Her skin felt like silk under his touch.

Her tongue flicked across her pink lips.

They seemed to invite him closer. Cupping her face, he stepped forward.

She didn't pull back or turn away from him.

He pressed his lips to hers. Warm and inviting. Slightest pressure.

She wrapped her arms around his waist.

He intensified the kiss.

After several moments, he broke off but kept his mouth very close to hers. “I guess this means we didn't wait for school to be out, Miss Greene.”

“Apparently not, Mr. Thompson.” Smiling, she slipped inside her house.

Curious that he wasn't nearly so nervous with her now. He supposed having kissed her and she kissing him back would do that. He looked forward to the next time.

His mouth hitched up on one side as he backed off her porch to head for home.

* * *

Bridget leaned against her door, listening to Lindley's footsteps descending her porch and crunching on the dirt. She rushed to the window and could see him in the moonlight. He appeared to have a spring in his step. She sighed.

All that worrying for naught. He had been harboring a secret, but not one that concerned her. At least not directly. And now she was being courted by a man she loved with her whole heart. A man she had pictured herself married to.

A man who deserved to know
her
secret, as well.

She pushed the thought aside. Certainly he would be as understanding.

She must go unpack.

I
t warmed Bridget's heart to see the church full once more with everyone well again. When she finished the final hymn and turned from the piano, she looked for Lindley at the back. She halted, perched on the edge of the piano bench, and stared.

Three young ladies and a young man stood with him and his children. None of whom she had ever seen before. And all were gazing at her with smiles. One lady held Dora, and the man held Gabe. She hadn't realized the new people were with Lindley.

He'd said his sister was in town. But that would account for only one of them and not the man.

She stood.

Lindley left the gaggle and met her at the first pew. “Evidently, Priscilla telegrammed my family about you, and they sent a scouting party. They arrived last night while we were at supper.”

She picked up her black leather-bound Bible and tucked it in the crook of her arm. “Are they all your siblings?”

“Just the girls. Emmett is married to Winnie. They couldn't come without a chaperone.”

“Half your family came?”

“Oh, this isn't even half of them with all the nephews and nieces. Come, and I'll introduce you.”

“I…” She shifted her Bible. They would be a lot to take in all at once. And he had more family elsewhere on the island. A lot more.

“My sisters won't relent until they meet you.” He picked up her shawl and hat and then led her down the aisle.

Four pairs of expectant eyes stayed fixed on her. Did she look all right? She touched her hair and glanced down. She was glad she had worn her favorite green-and-white-striped spring dress adorned with white lace.

Dora leaned toward her, and Bridget instinctively reached for the girl and settled her on her hip, as naturally as if she were her own.

Lindley took Bridget's Bible and motioned to her. “This is Miss Greene. Bridget, these are three of my sisters. Winnie and her husband, Emmett Halsted. Edith. And Priscilla.”

Bridget nodded to each person in turn. “Mr. and Mrs. Halsted, Miss Thompson, Miss Priscilla, I'm very pleased to meet all of you.”

Dora piped up. “I'm Dora.”

Everyone laughed, and tension rushed out of Bridget.