Sycamore Hill (17 page)

“Don’t bother me about this. I’ve got things to do!” Olmstead
interrupted me, impatient and annoyed.

“I cannot be a carpenter and a teacher in one, Mr. Olmstead,” I
said coldly, my own temper rising. “You agreed to take care of major repairs on
the building, and I'm afraid you will just have to find the time to keep that
promise.”

Olmstead turned around and stared at me in consternation. “How
dare you speak to me in that impudent tone,” he barked.

“It is not my intention to sound impudent. But, Mr. Olmstead, your
own child attends our school. What if Andy were to fall off the porch and hurt
himself? How would you feel then?”

He ignored my supposition and hefted a sack of flour onto his
back. He marched toward a bin where he intended to empty it. I stood astonished
at his rude dismissal of my concerns for the children.

“Mr. Olmstead,” I said, schooling my voice to respectful inquiry.
Olmstead heaved the sack off his shoulder and dropped it with a thud next to the
bin. Then he turned to glare hostilely at me.

“You’ve got my answer. Do it yourself! I haven’t got the time. And
if I had, I wouldn’t be spending it working on that old schoolhouse. I’ll go so
far as to loan you a hammer, and the nails are cheap enough.”

“Is there something wrong here?”

I turned to look at Ross Persall. He stood in the doorway looking
with interest at James Olmstead and me. The drawling voice was casual enough,
but I suspected he had heard the last bit of conversation and knew exactly what
was going on.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Persall?” Olmstead asked effusively
polite. Obviously, Persall was a valued customer and was therefore more
important than the safety of 63 children, I thought with exasperation.

“Did you have a problem, Miss McFarland?” Persall asked me with a
smile, patently ignoring Olmstead, who was greedily awaiting Persall’s hotel
order. The storekeeper’s face burned, and he looked at me with a warning
expression. That bullying look might work on his wife, I thought, but it was
not going to work on me!

“Yes, Mr. Persall, I do have a problem. Mr. Olmstead is very busy,
and the front railing on the schoolhouse is in desperate need of repair.”

“Is that all?” Persall cast a contemptuous look in Olmstead’s
direction. “I’ll get a couple of men on it right away. Olmstead could tell them
what’s needed, and I’ll purchase the materials from Thompson’s.”

Thompson had recently opened a small store and lumberyard in
competition with Olmstead’s business. Olmstead’s face whitened, and his eyes
flickered with alarm. Persall’s hotel order was large and brought in a good
deal of income.

“Miss McFarland will have to reject your kind offer, Mr. Persall,”
he said in a bombastic tone, giving me a cursory glance that was meant to
silence my tongue.

“I have no intention of rejecting Mr. Persall’s offer, Mr.
Olmstead,” I said pointedly. His face flushed, and his eyes blazed.

“I think, Miss McFarland, that you have forgotten the rules,” he
said, looking meaningfully at Ross Persall, who was watching this exchange with
a slight smile.

“I will remember your rules when you remember your obligations,” I
retorted, just managing to keep my voice cool. Olmstead thrust his head forward
pugnaciously, but he seemed lost for words. He was not about to offer his time
to work on the front railing of the schoolhouse. I knew that I would hear more
about my challenge later.

“I’ll see you back to the schoolhouse,” Persall offered, standing
aside so that I could pass through the door.

“What about your order, Mr. Persall?” Olmstead called in obvious
dismay. Persall looked at him and walked out behind me without a word.

“I think you have gained yourself an enemy, ma’am,” Persall
observed as he walked beside me. He put his hand lightly under my elbow as I
crossed the street.

“Mr. Olmstead is not counted among my best friends.” I smiled
ruefully. We turned up McPherson. I felt Ross Persall looking at me, and I
glanced at him questioningly. He smiled.

“If Olmstead dismisses you, you can always come to work for me,”
he suggested lightly.

I laughed. “Doing what? I haven’t Miss Lane’s talents,” I said,
thinking of her pretty voice. Ross Persall grinned.

“How can you be so sure about that?”

“My songs are limited to nursery rhymes.” I smiled back.

“But I’ll bet you have a beautiful body.”

I blushed bright-red and turned my face away. He laughed a low,
attractive laugh.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you like that. I forgot you were a lady.”

“Marba Lane is a lady,” I chastened coldly. Persall gave me a wry
look, which I did not like.

“What a prim expression you’re wearing,” he commented. “Don’t you
like me?”

“I don’t know you,” I evaded. Persall laughed again.

“Marba Lane is a lady of sorts, but she’s not in your class,” he
relented.

I decided it was best to not answer. Hopefully, he would not discuss
Marba Lane with me. I remembered his jacket on her bed when I visited and was
not foolish enough to believe that his relationship with Katrina’s mother was
entirely innocent. I found it unforgivable that he should speak disrespectfully
of the woman. And besides, I liked Marba.

Looking straight ahead, I saw two horses tied at the picket fence
surrounding the play yard of the school. One was a small pinto, and the other a
large, restless stallion snorting impatiently.

“Isn’t that Bennett’s horse?” Persall asked, voicing my own
nervous thoughts. Linda had not been in school for the past four days. I had
not expected to see her until I rode to Eden Rock tomorrow morning. I had
intended to speak with Jordan Bennett then about the importance of Linda’s being
with other children.

Persall followed me up the schoolhouse steps. I paused and
indicated the broken railing lying on the ground. “This is what I was speaking
of earlier, Mr. Persall. You can see what a hazard it is.”

“Anyone who fell off these steps would be sure to break
something,” he agreed. “Look at the rocks down there. I guess they were left
after the foundation was finished. They should be carted away.” He bent down
and looked at the braces. “Did the railing just topple over?”

“Not exactly. I was leaning against it,” I said. “I guess I’m no
lightweight.”

Ross Persall looked me up and down and grinned. “You’re not
exactly overweight either. If this thing had been nailed properly, it should
have held up fine. It looks like a couple of nails were pulled here.” I leaned
forward to look for myself, frowning. I glanced at the sill again, remembering
my questioning feeling of the night before. How had the cat jumped so far? Or
had someone placed her there after pulling the nails that held the railing? But
why?

“I’ll get one of my men to work on it right away,” Ross Persall
was saying. I looked at him blankly and then forced a smile. He did not seem
disturbed by what he had found, so why should I be? There was probably some
logical explanation. The schoolhouse was old. Maybe the nails had jiggled loose
over the years, and no one had noticed. Perhaps I was allowing my imagination
to carry me away again.

“I appreciate your help, Mr. Persall,” I said as he went back down
the steps.

“At your service anytime, Miss McFarland.” He winked, and there
was a roguish glint in his eyes.

When I entered the classroom, I found Jordan Bennett standing in
the middle of the room, looking at the whitewashed walls that now covered the
children’s murals. He turned his head and looked straight at me, something in
his eyes telling me clearly that he had heard Ross Persall outside. His first
words confirmed it.

“What was Persall doing here?”

“The front railing broke loose. He’s going to have one of his men
repair it before the children arrive this morning,” I answered. I glanced at
the far corner where Linda had ensconced herself. The girl was staring at her
hands, her bleak expression stating clearly that she did not want to be here
without Diego.

“Good morning, Linda,” I greeted. “Everyone has missed you.”

“Good morning, Miss McFarland,” Linda responded politely, casting
me a faintly embarrassed smile.

“Linda has been feeling under the weather for the past few days,”
Jordan said, giving his daughter a smile that drew a blush into her pale
cheeks. Then he turned back to me.

“I thought the school board was supposed to take care of all the
repairs on this place,” he emitted in a low voice.

“They were, but I’m afraid Mr. Olmstead and the other school board
members don’t have the time to do the repairs,” I explained, wondering just
where Jordan Bennett got his nerve to question me so imperiously.

“So you drafted Persall into service?” He raised his brows.

“Mr. Persall offered to help,” I answered coolly.

“I’ll just bet he did,” Bennett grunted. “Persall doesn’t know the
first thing about repairing anything, but he knows a lot about women.” I
decided not to ask what he meant by that sneering comment.

“At least he’s willing to see that someone does the work. And
that’s all that’s necessary,” I said, simmering.

“And beggars can’t be choosers,” he quoted demeaningly. I glared
up at him.

“I don’t see you beating down any doors to offer your help, Mr.
Bennett,” I retaliated. “Now, was there anything else you had to say to me.
Because if there isn’t, I have work to do before the children arrive.”

Jordan’s mouth cocked up at one side, and his blue eyes lightened
with sardonic amusement. “I wanted to know if you’d changed your mind yet.”

“Changed my mind about what?”

“About teaching Diego,” he said in a controlled tone. “I figured
you would have consulted someone by now about that impetuous offer of yours and
learned what a predicament you’ve put yourself in.” He smiled purposefully.
“You make a habit of saying things before you think them through.” I was
reminded of my accusation about him being Diego’s father, and I flushed
slightly.

“I assure you, I had more than ample time to think things through
on the six-mile ride to your ranch,” I smiled tightly. “Put your mind at ease,
Mr. Bennett. I shall ride out to the ranch tomorrow, and Diego and I will begin
his lessons then.”

He muttered a colorful expletive under his breath. “Have you no
sense at all?” Linda’s head came up at her father’s angry tone, and he lowered
his voice, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Will you at least give
thinking a try, Miss McFarland?”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately, Mr. Bennett,” I said,
keeping my indignation from showing in my face. I cast a glance at Linda, but
she was now reading one of her books. “And would you please leave here before
this digresses into another scene?”

“The scene between you and me hasn’t even begun yet, Abigail
McFarland,” Jordan warned. He leaned down so close that I could smell the
leather of his jacket. “What if I tell you that you are not welcome at Eden
Rock?”

“Reva Gutierrez and Diego don’t welcome me?” I raised my brows
derisively. “Or are you saying
you
don’t welcome me?”

“Would it make any difference?”

“Of course!”

“How so? I own Eden Rock, or have you forgotten that fact?”

“You don’t own Diego or his mother, do you?” I snapped. “Or would
you prefer that Diego be ignorant as well as an outcast.”

A muscle jerked in Jordan Bennett’s cheek. I let out my breath.

“I’m sorry. That was unforgivable. But the boy deserves an education,
Mr. Bennett. Why should you object so strenuously to my offer?” I tried for
reason.

“I’m not thinking about Diego at the moment.”

“There isn’t anyone else to think about,” I said, exasperated.
“You ask me if I intend to keep my promise to Reva Gutierrez and Diego. Well, I
do. Then you imply you will not welcome me on the ranch. After what I said to
you a few days ago, I can understand why you dislike me so much. I spoke in
anger. And I’m sorry. But can’t we try to put our grievances aside for the benefit
of the boy?”

“You bullheaded little bitch!” Jordan breathed in frustration.
“You’re going to find yourself in a real mess if you persist.”

“Are you still hoping I’ll leave town?” I asked, gauging his
expression. My question caught him momentarily off guard. Then he raked his
fingers back through his hair in agitation.

“Do what you want. I don’t give a tinker’s damn about you.” He
strode out of the schoolhouse.

“What was that all about?” Ross Persall asked, entering the
schoolroom.

“Nothing.” I shrugged, feeling confused and oddly depressed.
Surely it had not been Jordan Bennett who had written that cryptic note on the
blackboard?

“Nothing?” Ross laughed. “I could hear his voice from the gate.
What’s between you two anyway?”

“Nothing,” I repeated, walking to my desk.

“Second enemy you made today,” he commented wryly. “You must be
the first teacher to arouse so much powerful emotion.” He was standing close to
the desk, his head bent, as I ruffled through papers. I looked up at him and
forced a smile.