Elizabeth sucked in a breath and leaned her head on the town hall’s back door. She should have been indoors ten minutes ago, but couldn’t quite manage to step inside the building. She knew what awaited her. People. Probably about three hundred of them—teachers and school board members come to hear her father and David speak on education. The speeches, of course, were an unofficial start to the campaign both David and Father would run through the coming year until the elections next fall. And who better to begin the event than her, a schoolteacher?
She rubbed her arms. Oh, why had she agreed to give this speech? She didn’t know if she could look at Father or David after last Saturday, let alone stand on a platform and publicly beseech fellow educators to vote for them.
She glanced down at the paper crinkled in her hand, the wording for her speech scrawled in elaborate cursive across the page. She’d read it a hundred times and still had no idea what the paper said. The words just seemed to slip through her head without sticking.
And here she was, being a terrible daughter again. Truly she was the most hopeless daughter ever to grace the earth. Giving a speech was the least she could do to help her family, especially since she refused to marry David. She should be happy to aid them, not hiding outside the building and praying for the earth to open up and swallow her. But still, getting up on that stage and convincing people to support Father and David in the next election felt wrong somehow, fraudulent.
She closed her eyes as the cold autumn air stung her face. What had Luke said about Jonathan honoring God above his father in the Bible? Was there a way she could honor her family and God by giving this speech, even if she didn’t respect her Father or David? It didn’t seem possible.
With a sigh, she pulled open the back door and stepped inside.
“Elizabeth, there you are,” her father bellowed. “Come, they’ve already started. Where did you disappear to?”
“I was...”
But he didn’t wait for an answer, just grabbed her wrist and tugged her down the hall and toward the steps to the platform.
“...feeling a little sick,” she mumbled.
“We haven’t time for that. See?” He gestured up the steps, hidden by a thick curtain, to where a man in a tuxedo stood introducing the speakers. “Here, give me your cape.” He yanked it off her shoulders until she stood in the faded green velvet she’d worn for the occasion. “And what are you doing with that paper?” He tore the page from her hand, scowling when she didn’t let go and it ripped in two. “You’ve been giving memorized speeches since you were ten. You’re not taking a paper up there with you.”
Applause drowned out his words as he snatched the rest of the speech from her still-clenched fist and shoved her up the steps. The host stood at center stage, his smile wide and welcoming. Then, before she could even take a breath, the speaker left, and she stood alone on the platform with several hundred people seated before her.
She swallowed and stepped forward. Her hands were slicked with sweat, and her heart pounded in her ears. “I, um...” What had her paper said? “I came to speak to you about education this evening.”
Of course she had. The entire event was about education. She’d hardly been asked to speak on derivatives or integration.
Her stomach tightened and lurched. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t stand up here and recite platitudes to make her father and David look good.
“Education is...” She licked her lips and stared out into the audience. Mother and Jackson sat in the front row, both scowling, as she imagined Father and David were doing on the side of the stage. She forced her gaze past them to the other people filling the hall. Some she knew, like the teachers and board members from Hayes and its affiliate institutions. Some she recognized as teachers she’d met at similar events in the past, but many unfamiliar faces stared back at her, as well. All waited, thinking she had something important to say, something of value.
But what could she say? That her own education had saved her after she’d escaped from what would have been a terrible marriage? That if teachers truly wanted to educate students, they would endeavor to open up possibilities rather than stifle the country’s future generations in societal expectations? No, she could hardly say such things, even if truth dripped from her statements.
And then she spotted them, clustered into the back right corner. Not a group of teachers from Hayes wearing polite smiles and dignified clothing, but a group of students. Samantha and MaryAnne and Meredith and Helen, surrounded by several others she couldn’t make out, all beaming as though the sun rose and set on her.
Behind them stood Luke, leaning against the back wall, legs crossed and shoulders relaxed, in much the same way he probably leaned against a fence post on his ranch. He’d brought her students. She’d not mentioned more than two words about her speech to him, but evidently he’d known of it—and cared enough to come.
A bud of warmth unfurled somewhere deep inside, spreading heat to her icy fingers and a smile to her face. And with that smile came her answer. She didn’t need to stand there and cite platitudes so people would support Father and David, she needed to convince people that education was significant, because students were people, with longings and desires and dreams, and their futures were important.
“Education is important.” Her full voice rang with confidence over the fidgeting crowd. “Not so much because it teaches Shakespeare, quadratic equations and the War of 1812, but because it teaches students to dream.”
* * *
“Your speech was wonderful.”
Elizabeth stiffened at the masculine voice behind her. She stood on the side of the platform, peering out from the edge of the curtain and into the chaos beyond.
“Your speech was delightful, as well.” She spoke without turning to face David, and glanced at her father, standing only a few feet from the stage, nearly swallowed by a horde of well-wishers and supporters. “The crowd really took to it. I’m surprised you’re not out there greeting people, though.”
Something large and brown flashed in the far corner of the room. Luke and his cowboy hat? She’d likely imagined it. Even if he hadn’t rushed himself and the girls outside by now, she had no way of getting to him without being engulfed and waylaid by all the people.
“Looking for someone?”
“Pardon? Oh, um...no. Not really.” She waved her hand toward the crowd. “I’m simply watching. You really should be out there, though. Wasn’t your speaking engagement intended to give you opportunity to meet constituents and procure votes?”
“As always, you have an excellent understanding of politics and publicity. But the audience tonight would have slept through my speech had they not been so captivated by yours. I think when I came onto the platform, everyone was holding their breaths and hoping you would reappear for an encore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He moved behind her, so close the heat of his chest radiated into her back. She shivered and huddled nearer the curtain.
“Now who is it you’re watching for?” David peered over her shoulder, not giving her room to shift without touching him. “The Hayes heir?”
She bristled. Luke Hayes was the last thing she wanted to discuss with David. “You’ve gone from ridiculous to insane. Now please let me by. You’re standing far closer than is proper.”
He took a half step to the side, just enough so she could brush past. But rather than stay at the curtain, he followed her down the hallway. “And where are you going now?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“On the contrary. It’s very much my business, if you’re going to be my wife.”
“David, I’m not...” She rubbed her temples, already beginning to throb, and lowered her voice. “I’m not going to marry you. Didn’t I make that clear the other evening?”
His face remained firm and unyielding, as though chiseled in marble. “Step in here so we can talk.” He opened a door to a meeting room and held it for her.
She halted on the threshold and looked about. It was hardly appropriate for her to be alone in a room with him...but then she hardly wanted someone overhearing their conversation, either. And David simply had to get this fool notion of marrying her out of his head. So she stepped inside, letting him close the door behind her.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t love you, and if I don’t love you, I can’t possibly spend the rest of my life with you. I’d be miserable, and I’d make you miserable, as well. I appreciate your offer and...” Shame crept into her face, and she swallowed. How did she even discuss the situation without feeling like an expensive brothel girl? “...your willingness to help my parents financially, but I simply can’t agree. Now if you’ll please open the door. It’s highly inappropriate to be in here together.”
“Not any more inappropriate than you riding home with Hayes the other night.”
“You shouldn’t have told the headmistress.”
“Who says I told and not your mother?”
She stilled at that. Could Mother have done such a thing? Surely not. Mother might not approve of her daughter teaching, but she wouldn’t try to get her fired, not when the scandal would have negative implications for the rest of the family.
David came toward her, slowly, as though he had no reason to hurry, since he already had her cornered. “Your unwillingness to give my offer due consideration surprises me. What could cause you to spurn me so quickly, I wonder? Feelings for someone else? That cowboy, perhaps?”
Not a cowboy. A rancher.
“The only thing between me and Mr. Hayes is friendship.” Or so she hoped, because if Luke loved her, too...but no. She wasn’t going to love him back.
“Elizabeth.”
David tapped her chin up. She met his eyes for a mere instant, and then his lips covered hers, hot and invasive and humiliating.
No. She attempted to say the word, to push him away. But his arms wrapped around her, pressing her tight against him. She clamped her lips together and tensed every muscle in her body. She might not be strong enough to fight him off, but he wouldn’t get any satisfaction from holding her. Then his hands snaked up into her hair. She planted her hands against his chest and shoved, but it was too late. Her hair tumbled down in one giant mass, her hat landing on the floor at her feet.
“David!”
And the door opened.