Twelve

Hot tears burned behind Dori’s aching eyelids. She kept her head down, unable to face Matt, Sarah, and the accumulation of sins that had led to her being banished from Brookside. Forgive me, God, and please let Matt and Sarah forgive me. Her heart added what her mind refused to ask: Seth, too.

Matt’s voice sliced into the quiet room like a sharp knife. “You had better explain yourself, Dolores.”

Dori flinched. Matt only called her by her full name when she was in trouble. She raised her head and looked into his set face. “It. . .it wasn’t my fault, Matt.” The skeptical look in his eyes hurt her even more than the disappointment she saw. “You know I don’t lie.”

She got up from the bottom stair and clasped her hands behind her back. “I did a lot of things that should have gotten me expelled, but this time, I wasn’t to blame. If Miss Brookings’s nephew hadn’t come from England, I’d still be at school. He was trouble from the minute I almost knocked him out the front door and—”

“Up to your old tricks, I see.”

“Not this time. He just happened to be in the way.” Dori quickly related her trials and tribulations with Stancel Worthington III. “He was impossible. If you ever met him, you’d know what I mean.”

“Spare me the lurid details.”

“I can’t.” Dori told how she was called on the carpet, insulted by the headmistress, and ordered to leave Brookside posthaste. She ended with, “Even if I could go back, would you want me to after being called hussy and brazen? I’ll bet Miss Brookings didn’t put that in the letter on your desk.”

A muscle twitched in Matt’s cheek. “Why don’t we see?” He grabbed the letter, opened it, and read aloud. “ ‘Mr. Sterling, your sister Dolores is no longer welcome at my school. I have been patient and long-suffering in order to abide by your wishes and keep her here. She, however, has been a disturbing element ever since she arrived. She should have been sent home long ago. In any event, her latest transgression cannot be overlooked.

“ ‘Dolores set her cap for my dear nephew Stancel the moment he arrived. In order to attract his attention, she slid down the banister rail—which is strictly prohibited—and boldly pursued him at every opportunity. Stancel clearly showed his preference for Gretchen van Dyke, but Dolores wove an evil spell around him. She so enmeshed him in her wiles that Stancel actually considered civilizing, then marrying her.’ ”

❧

A muffled snicker from Sarah, who had kept silent all through Matt and Dori’s conversation, halted Matt’s reading. Dori gaped at her. Sarah had both hands over her mouth. Her face was redder than the last embers in the fireplace. “Sorry,” she apologized, tears streaming. “It’s just that no one in real life says ‘wove an evil spell,’ or ‘enmeshed him in her wiles.’ Dori, your headmistress must have been reading dime novels on the sly.”

Dori sent Sarah a look of approval. She turned to Matt and caught a flicker of his bride’s contagious amusement cross his face before he said, “Let’s have the rest of it. ‘I do believe Dolores actually thought Stancel’s temporary aberration would gain her an entrance into a level of society she could achieve in no other way. When she discovered I would not stand for it, Dolores called dear Stancel all kinds of barnyard names that plainly showed her lack of breeding.

“ ‘Now that this unspeakable troublemaker is out of the way, Stancel will naturally seek someone eminently more suitable than the uncivilized sister of a keeper of gentleman cows.’ ”

❧

Matt paused. The flicker of amusement grew into a blaze. A chuckle escaped. “Gentleman cows? I wonder where she got that. ‘As you know, Mr. Sterling, there is no monetary refund for those who do not complete their schooling, unless there is serious illness. I commend Dolores back into your keeping, and may God have mercy on your soul.’ ”

❧

Matt threw the letter aside and looked at Sarah, then Dori. His lips broadened into a grin. “You notice I am no longer ‘dear Mr. Sterling.’ ” A belly laugh followed. “So it’s hail-and-farewell to Brookside Finishing School for Young Ladies.”

Dori ran across the room and threw her arms around him. Was this how Christian, the hero in The Pilgrim’s Progress, felt when the heavy burdens he carried on his journey from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City finally dropped away? Dori wanted to skip, leap, and shout. If Matt could laugh like this, surely she wasn’t in too much hot water. His arms closed around her. Dori sighed with relief. Let Miss Brookings and her pompous nephew go hang. Miss Dori Sterling was home, safe, and forgiven.

Dori’s joy was short-lived. All too soon, Matt removed her clinging arms from around his waist and dropped his hands on her shoulders. Every trace of amusement had vanished. “I can’t condone Miss Brookings’s behavior,” he said quietly, “but neither are you blameless. You’ve been taught since childhood that actions have consequences. There’s always a day of reckoning.”

Dori shivered in spite of the warm room. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I don’t know yet. Drastic circumstances call for drastic measures.”

Dori’s heart plummeted to her toes. This was not good.

Sarah’s soft voice brought the dialogue to a standstill. “It’s late, and I’m sure we’re all tired, Matt. Suppose you and Dori continue this conversation tomorrow.”

Dori could have hugged her. The journey from confession through hilarity to facing an unknown future had taken its toll. Her energy was at such a low ebb she wondered if she could make it up the stairs to her room. “Good night, Sarah. Good night, Matt.” She grasped the rail of the staircase and began to climb, too tired to worry over what tomorrow might bring.

❧

After a restless, nightmare-filled night, Dori slept long past the usual rising hour for the Diamond S. When she came downstairs, she found Solita and Sarah at the kitchen table, steaming cups of coffee before them.

“Did you sleep well?” Sarah asked. Concern shadowed her voice.

“No. Do you know what Matt is going to do?”

Sarah shook her head. “I’m not sure he knows. We didn’t discuss it last night.”

Dori stared out the window into a sunny day. The sound of stamping hooves and a whinny from the corral chirked her up a bit. “Where’s Matt?”

“Right here.” He stepped into the kitchen. “How about a second cup of coffee, Solita?”

How can he look so rested and free from worry? Dori resentfully wondered. “So what’s the verdict?” She hated herself for sounding flippant but couldn’t stand one minute more of not knowing what lay in store for her.

“Do you want Solita and me to leave?” Sarah asked.

“Please stay,” Dori said. “You can be the jury when Judge Sterling pronounces sentence on the accused. Maybe you will plead for mercy on my behalf.”

“That attitude won’t help you,” Matt stated. He accepted the coffee from Solita, waited until she sat down again, then seated himself in a chair beside Sarah. “You’re eighteen years old. Too old to think you can rule the roost, act as you please without regard for others, and not be held accountable.”

Dori wilted. This was worse than she’d expected, especially when Matt’s reception of Miss Brookings’s letter had brought hope for a lesser scolding.

“First of all, you are going to finish your last term of schooling. Just because you aren’t going back to Brookside doesn’t mean you can run wild on the ranch.”

Stunned, Dori clenched her fingers until the nails bit into the palms of her hands. “I can’t go back to school in Madera. I’m older than everyone there. They’ll ask why I didn’t stay in Boston.” The thought of being humiliated lent Dori the courage to continue. “Please, Matt, don’t make me do that. I’ll never live down being kicked out of Brookside.”

“You’ve lived down other things,” Matt reminded her.

“Not like this.” Dori shook her head until her black curls flew every which way. “It will be the ruination of me. Besides, only you three and Seth know why I’m not going back. Can’t we keep it that way?”

Matt drummed his fingers on the table. “You do have a point, but. . .”

Sarah placed one hand over her husband’s. A glow filled her eyes. “Matt, I never had a chance for advanced schooling. Would you—could you hire a tutor to come to the ranch and teach both Dori and me? I feel so ignorant compared with you.”

“Ignorant? You’re the smartest person I know,” Matt argued. “There’s nothing you can’t do, even teach the Mexicans to speak English.”

“Pooh, Solita does most of the teaching,” Sarah scoffed. “Besides, I don’t mean ignorant about living, just about books and things.”

Humbled by Sarah’s frank admission of her shortcomings, Dori did likewise. “I know I don’t deserve it, but having a tutor and studying with Sarah would be wonderful.” She inwardly groaned at the thought of being cooped up doing lessons when Splotches and the entire great outdoors beckoned her. But it was better than having to tuck her tail between her legs and go back to school in Madera.

“The tutor will see to it that I make up what I’ll be missing at Brookside,” Dori added. And it will not include ballroom dancing, she silently vowed, wise enough to hold her tongue. She was already skating on the thinnest of ice.

Matt’s brows drew together in a straight line. “So where am I to get a tutor? Any teacher worth his salt will already be teaching this time of year.”

“Pray for one.” Dori clapped her hand over her mouth. Had she really said that?

Matt looked astonished. So did Sarah and Solita.

“I’m serious,” Dori told them, surprised to discover it was true. “Doesn’t the Bible tell us that if we ask, we shall receive?” Laughter bubbled out. “And if we seek, we shall find? Well, you need to seek a tutor.”

Matt tilted back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “It never ceases to amaze me how you can quote scripture when it’s to your benefit, sister dear. I have to admit, though, it’s a good idea.” He stretched. “Now if this discussion is over, I have work to do.” He stood, leaned down and kissed Sarah, and strode out.

“Dios will surely help Señor Mateo find the right person,” Solita observed. She smiled at Dori. “I will make your breakfast now.”

“Can I help?”

“No. You sit and talk with Señora Sarah.” The housekeeper disappeared into the pantry.

The postponement of Dori’s day of reckoning released her mischievous spirit. While Solita was out of the kitchen, Dori whispered to Sarah, “I wonder what kind of tutor God will send?”

Sarah laughed and patted her hand. “Who knows? God has such a sense of humor He will probably surprise us. Maybe even shock us.”

“I just hope the tutor has a sense of humor,” Dori flashed back. “If he’s anything like ‘dear Stancel,’ we’re sunk.”

For several days, it appeared there were no unemployed tutors anywhere near Madera. Dori conscientiously made it a matter of prayer, but when time went by with no success, despair set in. If no tutor could be found, she was doomed to return to school in Madera. She intensified her prayers.

Two full weeks after her return to the Diamond S, the tutor arrived. When the sound of buggy wheels halted in front of the wide front porch, Dori and Sarah rushed out. Sarah giggled. She pinched Dori’s arm and said, “I told you God might shock us. Now we’ll see if He has.”

Matt helped someone from the buggy. “Sarah, Dori, meet Miss Katie O’Riley, your new tutor.”

“I’m actually for bein’ a teacher and a governess,” Katie said.

Dori’s jaw dropped. Her new “tutor” had the reddest hair, the greenest eyes, and the most freckles on her tip-tilted nose that Dori had ever seen. She looked to be only a few years older than Dori and her accent was pure, lilting Irish when she said, “So you’re for bein’ Mrs. Sarah and Miss Dolores. Mercy me, but you’re two fine colleens.” A trill of laughter set Katie’s eyes asparkle. And as Dori’s grandmother used to say, “It warmed the very cockles of a body’s heart.”

Thank You, God, Dori breathed—and stepped forward to welcome Katie O’Riley.