28

Jake hadn’t been kidding about the champagne supper. Augusta’s celebration included Doc Fielding, Jack Dalton and his landlady, Moses, Nell, and Aurelia Donaldson. They sat around the dining room table as the three teachers regaled them with the events of the day.

“Tell them what you did with your snake,” Nell commanded Hattie, and Jack Dalton grinned as he pushed his plate away.

“Yes, you have to hear this,” he informed the assembled guests. “Our students planted a garter snake in each of our desks this morning. And Miss Hattie here . . . well, you tell them.”

Hattie did so, delighted by the warm laughter her story generated.

“I wish I could have been so coolheaded,” Nell confessed. “I’m afraid I screamed to wake the dead and it took me ten minutes to regain control of my class.”

Moses, sitting on her right, said, “You can’t blame yourself for that, Miss Nell. You didn’t have the benefit of Hattie’s experience.” He smiled in reminiscence. “She and I planted our fair share of snakes in teachers’ desks.”

Nell was surprised he’d excused her cowardice. She’d expected him to take the opportunity to make her feel out of place. Before she could give the matter more thought, Hattie was speaking. Nell straightened in her seat so she no longer gave Moses her shoulder while dancing attendance on Doc Fielding to her left.

“I must admit, seeing that snake gave me a shock,” Hattie said. “My heart jumped right up my throat.” She smiled over her shoulder at Mirabel, who was removing her dinner plate and replacing it with a portion of caramel custard. “Thank you,” she whispered. “This looks lovely.” Then raising her voice, she said to the guests, “It’s been several years since I handled a snake.” A thought occurred to her and she turned to Jake. “Do you know a family called Semp?” she asked.

“That would probably be Big John Semp,” Doc answered while Jake was still searching his memory. “Herds cattle at Smyth Dooley’s place. He’s a hard-drinkin’ sonovabitch—beggin’ your pardon, ladies. Stays sober on the job, but I’ll lay odds his pay voucher goes to liquor and gambling.”

“I have his son in my class, and, Doc, I don’t think he’s getting enough to eat. He’s a big-boned boy, but so thin. I think if he were eating properly, he might be as strapping as Moses.”

Nell was extremely aware of how strapping Moses was when his large shoulder jostled hers at the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his left hand resting by his plate. It was obviously strong and looked as if it had been scrubbed with a wire brush to remove the forge grime—all raw-looking and so big it could probably wrap around the back of her head from temple to temple. The thought made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“Perhaps the young man is going through one of those growth spurts boys are prone to,” Aurelia Donaldson contributed, peering at Hattie through her lorgnette. “I recall my own Edward looking so hollow he was nearly transparent, while simultaneously driving Cook to distraction trying to keep the pantry filled.”

“I wish I could believe that were the case,” Hattie said glumly. “But today at lunch, he only had two apples to eat and those were probably stolen from Henderson’s orchard.” Involuntarily, her eyes sought Jake’s and one corner of her mouth tilted up in a secret smile when he arched an eyebrow at her.

“I shared my lunch with him, saying I had much too much food for one person, which was true enough since Mirabel packs enough to feed a stevedore. But I fear I shan’t get away with the ploy indefinitely. He gobbled that food up like a starving hound, but he’s a proud boy and just stubborn enough to view accepting food more than occasionally as taking charity.”

Nothing more was said that evening, but Hattie was surprised to find Jake waiting for her in the schoolyard during lunch one day the following week. She crossed over to him, aware of all the eyes that watched their every move. “Hello,” she greeted him. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to meet Jonathan Semp.”

Her eyebrows shot skyward, but obediently she led him over to Jonathan, who was devouring his apples in an isolated corner of the schoolyard. “Jonathan,” she said, “this is Jacob Murdock. He’d like to speak to you.”

“What for?” Jonathan climbed to his feet and regarded Jake warily. He stuffed his hands into his overall pockets and hunched his shoulders defensively. “I ain’t done nothing.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Hattie corrected.

“Yes’m. Haven’t done anything.”

“I understand you know a little about working with cattle,” Jake said, offering his hand. It was a stab in the dark he hoped was correct. But if the kid had grown up around cattle operations, chances were he’d absorbed some knowledge. He mentally winced at the boy’s thinness. Hattie hadn’t exaggerated.

Jonathan didn’t think to question where the man in front of him might have heard that. He just shook the proffered hand hesitantly and said, “Yes, sir. I been around cattle all my life.”

“Have been,” Hattie interjected, and Jake shot her an exasperated glance.

“Give us a moment alone, Hattie.”

“Oh. Certainly. See to it that Jonathan is in class when the bell rings.” She was all starch as she spun on her heel and walked away.

Jake grinned. “Hattie’s real big on proper grammar usage. But a conversation with her correcting every word that pops out of our mouths will take all day.”

Jonathan stared at Murdock in awe. He’d called Miss Taylor by her first name and ordered her away like he was mayor of Mattawa. Then the man looked at him, suddenly all business. “I need an extra hand but don’t have enough work for a full-time man. How would you like to work for me after school and on Saturday mornings? I pay two bits an hour and meals. I know it’s a long way from town, so I’ll throw in the use of one of my cattle ponies. But know this, boy. You only get the unskilled work until you’ve proven yourself. We got ourselves a deal?”

Jonathan swallowed hard. Meals? And two bits an hour? Cripes, his old man made that and he’d been punchin’ cattle for twenty years. Plus the use of a pony? He’d be rolling in clover! “Yes, sir. When do you want me to start?”

“Today. I’ll talk to Miss Taylor and have her bring you out after school. Then you’ll know the way and it will be up to you to get yourself there promptly after school. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good.” The bell began to ring, signaling the end of the lunch recess. “Get to class. I’ll see you this afternoon. Oh, and tell Hattie I’ll have a hand bring out the buggy so she can deliver you to the ranch.” Jake turned and strode away.

After school, Hattie had her work cut out to keep from grinning like a ninny on the ride out to Jake’s ranch. Jonathan sat beside her on the buggy seat, leaning forward as if he could urge the horse to greater speed. Hattie’s heart galloped as she thought of Jake. Oh, that man. That splendid, marvelous, ingenious man! This absolved him forever for his part in her downfall at Roger’s hands. This was the Jake Murdock she had known and loved as a child: generous to a fault, kind, and concerned about the welfare of those less fortunate than himself.

He was waiting for them in the driveway when they pulled up, a sweat-stained, battered hat shading his eyes. He extended a hand to assist Hattie from the wagon seat and, accepting it, she grinned and jumped to the ground. Releasing her, he turned to Jonathan. “Go into the kitchen and tell Cook to give you a meal. When you’re done, go on over to the bunkhouse—it’s the building over there with the big porch. Happy will assign you your rig. I’ll see you in the north pasture when you’re all set.” He gave succinct directions and watched the gangly youth until he disappeared around the corner of the house. Then he turned back to Hattie.

She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed. “Jake Murdock, I adore you.” She planted a quick peck of a kiss on his lips, then whirled away. “I’m going to take Belle for a ride as long as I’m here. It seems an age since I’ve ridden.” Then she was off and running toward the stables.

Jake stood still as a stone, staring at her retreating figure. Every vein in his body felt scalded by the sudden rush of hot blood pulsing through it, and he closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. Christ Almighty. He had to forcibly restrain himself from following her into the stable. This was not the time. He had plans and was following a strict timetable. But many more incidents like this would shoot to hell all his careful planning.

Hattie best not get too cocky, though, thinking she could say things like that, thinking she could just kiss him and run away. For his patience was a fragile thing—and already worn thin. And whether Hattie Taylor knew it or not, their time was coming.