The Texan's Inherited Family. Noelle Marchand
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“But you’re disappointed.”
“Yeah.” Rhett sighed. “I’d hoped she was the one—especially since we were paired on that list.”
“Well, this might not be much of a comfort, but I’m sure there’s someone else out there. Perhaps someone you’ll be able to talk to without being nervous around.”
Rhett lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m not sure how likely that is since my brain seems to abandon me anytime a relationship turns romantic. I’ll tell you one thing, though. If there is another woman out there for me, I won’t find her with the Bachelor List. You’d be wise to give it back to Ellie and find a woman on your own.”
Quinn grimaced. “I hate to point this out, but Ellie has gotten every other match she’s ever made right, so I’ll take the chance. Please read it to me.”
“Rub that in harder, why don’t you?” Rhett narrowed his eyes and leaned against the counter. “If you’re so interested, why don’t you just read it yourself?”
“I would if I could.” He stared Rhett in the eye and waited for confusion to turn to enlightenment then pity. The pity never came—only compassion—which was almost as bad, except it didn’t leave quite as awful a taste in Quinn’s mouth.
“I’ll read it for you. Have you got it on you?”
“Yeah.” Quinn laid the list on the counter between them and pointed to the only word he recognized. “My name is right there. I know that much, but whose is next to it?”
Rhett glanced down at the spot Quinn indicated before folding up the list and handing it back as if he couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. “Ellie put you with Helen McKenna.”
The words reached his brain then fell flat as the pancakes he’d tried to make that morning. “Come again?”
“The schoolmarm. Helen McKenna.”
“That isn’t funny.” Quinn tried to give the list to Rhett again. “Read it right.”
Rhett held his hands up and refused to take it. “I’m telling you, Quinn, it says Helen McKenna. I wouldn’t joke about this.”
Quinn closed his eyes and lowered his head in defeat as the hope that had flared in him burned out like a faulty matchstick. What had Ellie been thinking? Helen McKenna was far too good for him. She’d been nice to him—friendly, even—but she’d never consider him as a marriage prospect. He had nothing to offer a woman like her.
A tiny forehead braced against his. He opened his eyes to see Olivia blinking up at him from inches away, her big eyes nearly crossing in the effort. He kissed her tiny nose then straightened to his full height. He may not be Helen’s first choice in a man. However, judging by the way Reece and Clara talked about her nonstop, she’d probably be the children’s first choice in a mother. That was enough for him. “She might not love me, but I dare her not to fall in love with my kids. She’ll marry me, if only because of that.”
Rhett looked dubious. “Are you sure that’s best for them? For you to marry a woman you don’t love?”
“A mother is what’s best for them. She’ll be a good one. Ellie must have thought the same thing. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have matched us up.” He put the paper back into his pocket. “I’ll need this as proof. I promise I’ll give it back to you as soon as possible.”
“Don’t bother. I have no use for it. Besides, I’ve had enough woman trouble to last me a good while.” Rhett gave him a nod of silent encouragement. “I’ll be praying for you, man.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.” He scooped Olivia back onto his hip, reached down for Trent’s hand...and came up empty. He pulled in a deep breath. “Trent!”
A head poked out from beneath a bench in the waiting room. Quinn strode over and held out his hand. “We just talked about this, son. You are not allowed to crawl under anything that puts you out of sight without letting me know first. That includes benches.”
Quinn opened the door with his shoulder then stood outside trying to figure out what to do next. He should probably get the haircut and shave that Helen seemed so particular about. He’d need to find someone to watch the children for an hour or so to get that done. Maybe the doctor’s wife? He hated to impose on her again so soon, but she had said she’d be happy to help if he needed someone to watch the children again.
He frowned as he rubbed a hand over his thick beard. He could hardly expect a schoolmarm to accept the proposal of an illiterate man who reminded her of a bear. While he couldn’t do anything for his lack of book learning, he could get rid of some of his wildness.
He shook his head. Helen McKenna. He might as well be reaching for the moon. He might not deserve her, but his children did and that’s exactly who they were going to get.
* * *
Mr. Etheridge reminded Helen of a thundercloud with his snapping gray eyes, prematurely silver hair and commanding voice that filled the schoolhouse with a confidence that dared anyone to disagree with him. “Miss McKenna, you have demonstrated a concerning inability to maintain proper discipline during school hours. The school board overlooked the troubling pranks that took place at the beginning of the school term, but now our students are brawling in the schoolyard.”
A frown etched across the face of Mr. Johansen, whose youngest son was in the fifth grade. “I heard there has been fighting.”
Mr. Etheridge’s pacing steps in front of her desk seemed intended to slowly, deliberately sever any connection between her and the two other members of the school board. “My son, Jake, finds himself in constant need to defend himself from the aggressions of his fellow student Reece Tucker, who is treated with blatant partiality. While my Jake was sent home from school on Friday with a black eye and bloody nose, Reece was allowed to stay at school for the remainder of the day.”
Nathan Rutledge’s gaze locked on Helen’s. The final member of the three-person school board was Ellie’s brother-in-law and the father of a little boy in the same class as Reece Tucker. “Is it true that you only sent Jake Etheridge home, Miss McKenna?”
Helen forced herself to adopt a more pleasant look as she straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Yes, but—”
“You see?” Mr. Etheridge turned to face the other members. “I think it is quite obvious that Miss McKenna lets favoritism get in the way of good discipline. Despite her high recommendations, her inexperience is detrimental to the welfare of our students.”
The indignant flush rising in her cheeks from Mr. Etheridge’s interruptions and the urge to defend herself faded into confusion. “High recommendations?”
Mr. Johansen nodded, though he didn’t take his gaze from Mr. Etheridge. “He means the letter from the governor.”
Her hands tightened into fists. “The governor recommended me for this position?”
“Yes,” Nathan agreed. “It was the deciding factor that led us to choose you over the local candidate—Mr. Etheridge’s daughter.”
Everything suddenly became clear. No wonder she’d been placed at a school so quickly after taking the teaching exam despite having no former experience. She’d thought it was a sign from God that she’d made the right decision in giving up on the impossible to focus on the attainable. Instead, it was simply a sign that her loving, overprotective parents had asked a favor from the governor, who had been a friend of the family for years.
“My daughter was unable to find another position and would be willing to replace Miss McKenna should the need arise.”
She stared at Mr. Etheridge, finally able to understand the reason for his attitude toward her. No doubt he saw her as the interloping city girl who’d stolen the position that rightfully belonged to his daughter. Maybe that’s exactly who she was. Maybe she’d stolen some other girl’s dream. She had no right