26

Hattie chose teaching because she wanted a measure of independence and knew there weren’t a great many options available to a woman. Given free rein, she’d choose working with the Murdock horses. But fat chance Jake would turn that over to her, even if the herd had been substantially reduced these past few years. Teaching struck her as the next best thing. She found the process of learning exciting, and generating a thirst for new ideas in others was more appealing than the prospect of being a salesgirl, librarian, or typist.

She was nevertheless apprehensive about her ability to perform her job satisfactorily. At night during the week before the start of the new school year, she lay wide awake in bed, fretting. Was she prepared? She was going to have fourteen students. What if she failed to command their respect or control her class?

The school had three classes. Nell got the younger children, whose ages ranged from six to nine; Hattie had the ten- to thirteen-year-olds; and Jack Dalton was assigned the older students since he had the seniority, experience, and additional education required to teach high school.

The Friday before school opened, the teachers, along with Mirabel; Jack Dalton’s doting landlady, Mrs. Wilson; and a ranch hand Jake sent over, moved the desks out into the yard and cleaned the three-room schoolhouse top to bottom. They knocked down spiderwebs, swept and scrubbed floors, whitewashed the walls, washed windows, blacked the potbellied Wetter’s Comfort stoves, cleaned blackboards, and pounded erasers free of chalk dust. Mirabel left early to prepare dinner, and by the time Hattie and Nell trudged for home, they were exhausted but pleased with the results. Their sparkling classrooms were ready for occupation.

The big barn doors of Armstrong’s Livery stood open as they passed by, and on impulse, Hattie grabbed Nell’s arm to pull her to a halt. “Let’s say hello to Moses,” she suggested.

Nell was horrified at the prospect and glanced down at her grubby apparel. She wore her oldest dress, and her arms, hands, and probably face as well were smudged with dirt. Half her hair had slid out of its neat pompadour. But Hattie hadn’t waited for an answer and was across the courtyard by the time Nell gathered her wits about her.

Hattie turned at the big double doors. “Come on!” With a sigh, Nell grudgingly followed.

They found Moses at the forge, pounding out a long piece of iron with a glowing red end. The heat was overwhelming and he’d removed his shirt, wearing only a leather apron to protect his chest from flying sparks. Sweat plastered his hair to his head and trickled down his sides, back, and chest. His forearms above his grimy leather gloves were blackened with soot, and his muscles flexed and slid smoothly with every movement beneath the oiled sheen of his skin. Nell stared in fascination while he was still unaware of their presence. Lord above. She had never seen such a virile man.

Her inspection was cut short when he set aside his mallet and shifted the iron from the anvil into a bucket of water by his side. Hattie moved forward. “Hey,” she said.

Moses’ head swung around, a white smile splitting his face. “Hiya, Hat.” His smile grew wider yet when he saw her disheveled appearance. “What in tarnation y’been doing—cleaning somebody’s chimney?” Then he spotted Nell in the shadows behind her, and his smile dimmed as he suddenly became aware of his filthy appearance. He reached up and tugged a lock of his hair, inclining his head. “Afternoon, Miss Nell.”

“Moses,” she said coolly, stepping forward with her regal posture, her chin elevated.

“We spent the entire day being scullery maids,” Hattie explained. “We’ve been preparing our classrooms, and, oh my, do they shine!”

Moses smiled at her with affection but shuttered his gaze into something more mocking when he turned to Nell. Looking her over from her shining black topknot, sitting askew on the crown of her head, to the scuffed toes of her shoes, he paused deliberately at every smudge in between. Hoping to hell it would erase this god-awful yearning in his gut. “It’s a right proper look for you, Miss Nell. Scullery work suits you.”

Nell was tired to begin with and uncomfortable in his presence. It was overheated and stuffy in this corner of the livery and smelled of overworked man and horse. The sight of so much unclad muscle and skin was unnerving, and to her abject horror, tears rose in her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she turned without a word and left the livery.

Moses felt sick at the sight of her tears. He turned from watching her retreating ramrod-straight back and looked straight into Hattie’s contemptuous eyes.

“My God,” she said softly. “It’s one thing if you simply don’t like her. I suppose I can learn to live with that. But I have never known you to be deliberately nasty.”

He shrugged his big shoulders uneasily. “No one in their right mind would ever believe that girl was designed for scullery work. Even in dirt and rags, she looks like some princess come to inspect the stable boy’s work. Can’t she take a joke?”

“Oh, were you joking? Forgive me, I guess I missed the punch line.” She slugged him in the arm. “You listen to me, Moses Marks, and pay attention because I’m only going to say this once. Nell isn’t some rich society woman working for a lark, and she’s not looking down her pretty, patrician nose at you, so you can just save your ‘Aw, shucks, I’m nothing but a country rhubarb’ routine for someone who actually deserves it. It’s not only not funny, it’s cruel. She doesn’t have two pennies to rub together and she’s shy around men. It took me a long time to convince her just because she’s inordinately tall for a woman, it doesn’t mean she’s unattractive.”

Moses looked at her incredulously and Hattie said, “That’s what she used to think, you know—at least around men. I’m surprised at you. You have been too good a friend to me for too many years to make me believe you made a value judgment based on her looks. If that was the case, why didn’t you run screaming from me when the entire town condemned me as a loose young woman of easy virtue? After all, they formed their theory based on the way I looked.”

“I knew you,” he muttered.

“Well, heaven forbid you should get to know Nell. If you did, you just might have to justify it to yourself when you let loose that mean streak. If you’re bound and determined to be a bully, Moses, then go pick on someone your own size. Leave my friend alone.” She turned on her heel and strode for the door.

“Hattie.”

She halted at the sound of his voice but didn’t turn to look at him. “What?”

He stared at her rigid back as she stood in the open doorway, her hair beneath its coating of dust blazing in a shaft of sunlight. He admired her defense of Nell and was shamed by it. She had more guts than ten men put together. She’d stood up to him the way he should have stood up to others on a number of occasions when it had been Hattie under attack. “You’re the best of friends,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry, girl.”

“Good—but don’t tell me.” Glancing over her shoulder, she met his contrite gaze with a steely one of her own. “Tell Nell.”