Thirteen

Knee deep in the thicket with an aching foot, Theo tried to make sense of what he had just heard. The prettiest girl in Latagnier stood right there in front of him, calling him a coward one minute and asking him to stick around the next.

She seemed to think better of the words as soon as she spoke them, for she pressed past him and fled. But she left without taking the statement back, a sign she did mean what she said.

Then there was the business of calling her cher. That endearment hadn’t come out of his mouth in regard to a woman in years.

He should have gone after her. He could have caught her in no time. She wasn’t any bigger than a minute and wore those silly skirts that would more than slow her down.

But if he had, what would he have said? That he didn’t want to leave her, either? That he’d stay?

While the first thought was true, the second was impossible. He and the Lord had a deal, and Clothilde Trahan was not a part of it.

He would miss her. That much was certain. But stay here in Latagnier, give up his plan to head for Nova Scotia? How could he do that for a mere slip of a girl?

He’d spend the rest of his life wondering if she was worth it. No, you won’t.

Ignoring the insistent voice, Theo watched the Trahan woman’s back until she disappeared up the path. When he could no longer see blue skirts and dark hair, Theo turned and headed back to the cabin. The schoolhouse, he corrected. He’d have to start thinking of the place as a school. It was sure going to be one in short order.

That would make Mademoiselle Trahan very happy.

Once she saw his handiwork, she would forget all about thinking he ought to stick around. What did she have in mind for him anyway? Courting? That hardly seemed possible.

He’d fallen hard that night across the supper table, but since then he’d had no trouble keeping his distance. At least he’d managed to stay away.

She’s the one who keeps ending up underfoot.

A thought dawned, and he stopped to savor it. Clothilde Trahan didn’t want him to leave Latagnier, and she couldn’t keep away from the schoolhouse.

What did those two things add up to?

Theo ducked under a low-hanging pine branch, then shook his head.

Nothing that made any sense. Logic told him the Trahan girl didn’t have a brain in her head when it came to men, but his heart told him otherwise. Something in her words today showed her feelings—he just knew it.

Something that said she cared.

He headed back to the site with this thought still chasing him. Picking up the hammer to pound nails reminded him of the expression on her face when he’d been caught off guard while demolishing the wall. As he looked around, he realized just about everything at the schoolhouse reminded him of Clothilde Trahan.

He sighed. The whole idea of taking up with Joe Trahan’s niece just seemed too far-fetched. What would a smart girl like her want with a dumb carpenter like him?

Ask her.

“Now that’s the craziest thing I’ve heard in a long time,” he said under his breath. “Crazier than thinking a girl like her would be interested in a man like me.”

Still, he walked home with a spring in his step, or at least as much of a spring as he could manage with only one good foot. His sunny disposition carried him all the way to bedtime, when he finally laid his head down on his pillow and closed his eyes.

There, in the darkness, he generally met his Savior one last time before falling asleep. Tonight, however, thoughts of the day intruded.

Allowing the events of the afternoon to unfold once more in his mind, Theo recounted each word, every exchange of conversation between himself and Joe’s niece.

As he fell into the blackness of sleep, he realized one important thing: Either he made it his business to court Clothilde Trahan, or he made it his business to leave her alone. Dangling between the two extremes like a puppet on a string would only lead to disaster.

❧

He awoke knowing he had to make a decision. Taking his time would be best, he decided, as something of this importance could not be rushed. He bade his mama and papa good-bye and headed off to the schoolhouse to see how much one man could get done in a day.

Along the way, his path somehow veered off, and he ended up on Joe Trahan’s doorstep. Flo welcomed him in and poured his coffee, dealing him his fair share of eggs and bacon without asking if he wanted any. To his surprise, Clothilde joined them.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Breaux,” she said as she breezed in, looking as if she’d taken all morning to get that pretty. Today she wore pink. It matched the color in her cheeks.

If he had his way, she’d never wear any other color.

Her braid lay coiled on the back of her head. Theo’s fingers itched to set it free, to let the braid fall and release the blue-black strands altogether.

Would her hair fall in curls, or did she have straight, thick strands? He’d never seen it down around her shoulders, nor would a proper lady be seen that way. Still, whichever she possessed, he knew it would feel like silk in his hands.

“Monsieur Breaux,” Flo said. “Quoi y’a?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” When he realized the other three inhabitants of the kitchen were staring at him, he cast about for something to say. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Clothilde,” he finally said over the rim of his coffee cup as he watched her settle onto the seat across from him. “Comment ça va?”

“Very well, thank you, but please call me Cleo. Everyone else does.”

“Cleo.” Yes, he liked the sound of that. Clothilde was too sizable and formal for such a tiny thing. “All right, but only if you call me Theo.”

“We rhyme.” When his confusion showed, she shrugged. “Theo and Cleo. We rhyme.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I guess we do.”

She nibbled at the corner of a piece of dry toast, then dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I’m surprised to see you here this morning.” She paused to offer a radiant smile. “In light of our conversation yesterday, I mean.”

Theo cleared his throat and gave Joe a sideways glance. He seemed to be taking in their exchange with interest. Thankfully, if he had any thoughts on the matter, he held his peace.

Their conversation of yesterday? What in the world was she up to?

Time to change the topic fast. Theo cast about for another item to discuss—something that didn’t involve Clothilde Trahan, at least not directly.

“So, Joe, you got anything new to show me this morning?”

Joe seemed to think on the question a moment. “No,” he said. “Nothing new this morning.”

What? Joe Trahan with no new scribblings to show him? Nothing he’d figured since yesterday? Not likely. Theo met Cleo’s direct gaze. Had she mentioned to her uncle that his carpenter couldn’t read?

She gave him an innocent look, then reached for the sugar bowl. Dousing her coffee with several spoonfuls, she began to stir the black liquid in leisurely circles.

Her smile should have been a warning. Innocence like hers was dangerous. “Uncle Joe, Monsieur Breaux and I have a confession to make.”

Theo nearly dropped his fork. “We do?”

Joe seemed to take particular interest in Cleo’s statement. He pushed his spectacles onto his nose and peered at her, then turned his attention to Theo. “Oh?”

Cleo set a folded piece of paper on the table, then pushed it toward Joe. “This came yesterday.”

“Is that right?” he asked. “Why am I just now getting it today? I thought I had all of the mail already. It looks like it’s been read.” He paused. “And fought over.”

Cleo turned her substantial charm on her uncle. “Now that part’s mostly my fault. You see, I was anxious and—”

“And so you snooped.”

She nodded as Joe picked up the slightly crumpled sheet of paper and began to read. The mere act of watching someone else read generally gave Theo a range of mixed feelings. This morning, however, he only had one: dread.

“Well now,” Joe said as his eyes scanned the page. “Isn’t this interesting?” He peered over the paper to look at Theo. “What part did you play in this, son?”

Before Theo could answer, Cleo came to his rescue. “He didn’t actually play an active part. His was more like a supporting role.”

Joe shook his head. “Speak plain, child.”

Cleo offered another radiant smile. “You see, when I read that there would be a new teacher for the school, of course I wanted to go out and see if the place would be ready for her in time.” She broadened her smile. “Well, it turns out there is a slight problem with that, isn’t there, Theo?”

Joe turned to Theo as if he might be able to shed some light on the subject. Theo shrugged.

“The problem,” Cleo continued, “is that the schoolhouse renovations will be completed well before the teacher’s arrival.”

“Is that right?” Joe asked him.

When Theo nodded, Joe turned his attention back to Cleo. “So what does that have to do with a problem at the schoolhouse? I’d say that the teacher arriving to a completed classroom is what we want.”

Cleo shifted in her chair and stared at Theo. Again, innocence shone on her face. Again, he made a note to watch out for her. Pretty things came in small packages. . .but so did dynamite.

“Do you want to answer that?” When he shook his head, she continued. “The problem is that we will have a whole block of time that will be wasted if we wait until the teacher can come from New Orleans. The classroom will sit empty, and the children will be spending their time doing other things rather than learning.”

“I see your point,” Flo interjected.

Joe waved away her statement with a lift of his hand. “I don’t.” Once again, he turned to Theo. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“Well,” he said slowly, “actually I do.” He took a bite of Flo’s scrambled eggs and savored them while the three Trahans watched. When he could postpone his answer no longer, he nodded toward Cleo. “You have a schoolhouse almost finished and a whole passel of children who want to learn, right?”

“Right,” Joe said.

“So what Cleo here is saying, is that she can take on the teacher’s job until your friend from New Orleans shows up to relieve her from duty. The kids have a head start on their book learning, and Cleo stays out of trouble.” He paused, ignoring the look on her face. “Well, at least she gets in less trouble, eh?”

Joe reached for his coffee mug and took a long drink of the stiff brew. Setting the cup back on the table, he turned his gaze on Flo. She smiled and nodded. A moment later, he echoed her gesture, then expanded it to a chuckle.

“I don’t suppose it would hurt to have my niece teaching the children, at least until a proper teacher arrives,” he said.

“Cleo, is that something you want to do?” Flo asked.

“Oui,” she said. “I want this very much, Tante Flo.” She reached for her uncle’s hand. “I promise I’ll do a good job, Uncle Joe.”

“Be careful what you promise,” Joe said.

Funny, he was speaking to Cleo but looking at Theo.

Theo chewed another mouthful of eggs, then swiped at his mouth with the napkin. “I’d best be off,” he declared as he rose. “I’ve got plenty to keep me busy today.”

“I’m sure you do, dear,” Flo said. “Do be careful out there. You never know what’s going to happen.”

“Especially with my niece on the loose.” Joe pushed his spectacles back down on the bridge of his nose. He winked at Cleo, then picked up the newspaper. “Maybe I’ll come out there later and check on your progress.”

“That’d be fine, sir.” Out of the corner of his eye, Theo saw Cleo watching them. “I’d welcome the chance to show you what I’ve been up to. I think you’ll be surprised at how much progress has been made.”

“Or maybe I’ll just send Clothilde. Most days she seems to end up out there anyway.” Joe seemed to take no notice of his niece’s cry of protest as he lowered the paper a notch and peered over the pages.

“I wish you’d rethink that,” Theo said, ignoring the urge to glance at Cleo to gauge her reaction. “It’s awfully dangerous what with all the work going on out there, and Mademoiselle Trahan is a woman after all.”

Joe paused a moment, then suppressed a smile as he stared down at Theo’s sore foot. “I see your point.”

“Well then, I’d best be off to work.” He braved a look at Cleo, who stared back with no visible sign of emotion. Beside her, Flo sipped at her coffee, barely hiding a grin with her cup.

“Pleasure seeing you this morning, Theo,” Flo said. “Give your mama and papa our best, will you? And tell them I’ll be over tomorrow with a fresh mess of shelled peas.”

He nodded. “Yes’m. I will.”

Theo headed for the door like a hive of bees was on his tail. Nothing would please him more than to see Cleo Trahan’s pretty face out at the schoolhouse every day. Unfortunately, nothing would be more dangerous—to his health and to his heart.

“Buck up, man,” Theo said under his breath. “That girl’s poison to your plans. One false step and you’ll be heading to the church instead of Canada.”

“Did you say something, Theo?”

“I’m sorry. What?” He whirled around to see Cleo standing in the doorway.

Arms wrapped around her middle, a smile decorated the Trahan girl’s face. She took a couple of tentative steps toward him, then leaned against the porch rail and wrapped her fingers around the post.

“Who—me, say something? No.” Not to you, anyway.

“That’s funny,” she said. “I thought I heard you say something about Canada.”

His breath froze in his throat. What else had she heard?

“Canada? Oui. It’s nice there this time of year,” he said, hoping the casualness in his response hid the truth of his feelings. “A little chilly but nice.”

She looked perplexed. Good. Maybe she will think I’m one of those old men who talks to himself, and she’ll steer clear of me.

“Yes, well, thank you for speaking to Uncle Joe on my behalf,” she said. “I hope that now I will get a chance to show him what I can do.”

“I’ll do my part and get the place in shape as quick as I can.”

He turned and set off down the road, wondering if she still stood on the porch watching. As he turned toward the path leading to the schoolhouse, he glanced back to see she did.

“Theo, boy, you are in a whole heap of trouble,” he said as the Trahan place disappeared behind the thicket.