Would-Be Mistletoe Wife. Christine Johnson

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СКАЧАТЬ Louise said slowly. “Few are.”

      “That’s the way God ordained it should be.”

      The girl’s answer raised Louise’s hackles. Compassion, not privilege, was a cornerstone of Christian life. Though a retort rose to her lips, she took a deep breath and offered a silent prayer for restraint and understanding. Christ acted in truth and love. Louise must attempt to emulate that. Only then did she realize that Priscilla’s words sounded too pat, as if she was just repeating what her mother had told her. That gave Louise an idea.

      “America is a land of opportunity. Everyone deserves a chance to make a new life.”

      “Like you?” Priscilla asked without batting an eyelash.

      Louise felt vulnerable. Just how much did the girl know about her? Though born to slightly less privilege than Priscilla, her past had its ugly chapters, with wounds that had just begun to heal. Priscilla couldn’t possibly know what had happened in New York. Even though the Benningtons ran in the same sphere as Warren’s parents, the Smythes were intensely private and protective. Anything they might have communicated would disparage Louise, not reveal the truth.

      She took a shaky breath and redirected the conversation. “You have much to offer Dinah. Instead of pointing out her deficiencies, you could help her.”

      Priscilla stared. “That’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it? You are the teacher.”

      Louise wanted to wipe the smirk off the girl’s face, but that would only increase the animosity. No, to gain Priscilla’s confidence, she would have to give her a role that she would relish. She quickly went through the possibilities.

      “Until next week, then.” The booming masculine voice in the hallway could only belong to Jesse Hammond. “Good evening, Mrs. Evans.”

      Priscilla’s attention shifted to the doorway and its closed door. No doubt the girl would have sought out Jesse. He was by far the most handsome bachelor in Singapore. In spite of the difference in their ages, the girls clearly thought him attractive. It was a good thing she hadn’t begun reading Jane Austen’s Emma, which described just such a romance between a much younger woman and an experienced man.

      Louise shook herself. Jealousy was not only wrong, it did no good for anyone. To show she could not be held in its bonds, Louise addressed her student.

      “You are gifted in literature.” She hoped the compliment helped. “Are you willing to assist Dinah with her reading?”

      Priscilla glanced at the closed door before blinking her impossibly long lashes. “Yes, Mrs. Smythe.”

      Was it Louise’s imagination or had the girl stressed Mrs.?

      “Very well, you may go then.”

      Priscilla scrambled from her seat and rushed out the door.

      Unwelcome disappointment flooded into Louise. To counter it, she whistled a cheerful tune, the first that came to her, the carol “We Three Kings.” She then began entering the day’s marks into her record book.

      “Isn’t it a little early for Christmas carols?” Jesse’s deep voice knifed through her.

      She didn’t dare look up, lest she lose her composure again. “It’s never too early to celebrate the Savior’s birth.”

      Though distracted, she managed to place Adeline’s arithmetic score in the proper column.

      “Mrs. Evans would like me to give the lecture next Monday,” he said. “If that’s all right with you, that is.”

      Naturally it would be on Monday, her usual day for a class on the sciences. At least it would only be once.

      “If she approved it, then it’s fine with me.” She began to place another score in the record book but forgot whose it was. “If you don’t mind, I am busy.”

      “I can see that.”

      Yet he didn’t leave.

      Louise looked up, prepared to scold him. He cast a sheepish grin her way, and her irritation evaporated. She shook herself. This sympathy for him was dangerous. It had gotten her into all sorts of trouble. She resumed entering grades.

      “She asked me to do five more lectures,” he said.

      “Five!” Louise’s blood boiled. Five additional lectures would eliminate her science lessons for the entire month of October and half of November. By then, they would no longer be able to go outdoors to examine plant life.

      “She insisted.”

      Louise swallowed her anger. It wasn’t Jesse’s fault that Fiona was trying to match him to her, just as it wasn’t Priscilla’s fault that Louise had lingered too long in Jesse’s arms. Oh, dear. How was she going to manage six lectures with him?

      “I didn’t realize there was that much information to reveal about the weather.”

      He looked even more sheepish. “Mrs. Evans suggested I tell your students about the working of the lighthouse.”

      Wonderful. Fiona thought science was too obscure for the girls. It had taken all of Louise’s persuasive abilities to convince her to allow a single class each week. Now she was throwing an entire period to Jesse, and for what? Talking about the lighthouse? What possible good would that do the students?

      “I thought you didn’t want to lecture,” she pointed out. “You did offer to withdraw and let me do it.”

      “Mrs. Evans has a way of persuading a person. She did say we wouldn’t have to work together. You can simply introduce me and monitor from the back of the classroom.”

      Didn’t he know how difficult that would be? She could only get rid of these unwanted feelings by distancing herself from Jesse, not putting herself in his path each week.

      A piercing scream sent Louise to her feet and Jesse into the hallway.

      “One of the girls,” she cried, rushing past him.

      He followed and soon ran past her. Then, when he reached the parlor, he halted. Right in the doorway. Louise skidded on the wood floor and nearly bumped into him. Only the door frame spared her from another embarrassing encounter.

      Then she spotted Priscilla, who lay at the base of the staircase, moaning and grasping her ankle.

      “Mr. Hammond,” Priscilla sobbed. “Help me.”

      He hurried toward her and knelt.

      Louise wrestled with unseemly thoughts—that Priscilla hadn’t fallen at all and that this was all a ruse to attract Jesse. The jealousy welling within was wrong.

      Fiona pushed past Louise. “What happened?”

      “I tripped and fell,” Priscilla cried. “My ankle.”

      Fiona took charge. “Louise, fetch Mrs. Calloway. She’ll know whether or not to get the doctor from Saugatuck. Mr. Hammond, let’s get Priscilla to the sofa.”

      Jesse СКАЧАТЬ