The Runaway Princess. Patricia Forsythe
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thrusting it at the man who was fighting the blaze. He took it without a word and began beating out the flames while she continued to pound at them with her feet. A minute later, two more men joined them, dragging a long garden hose. They turned it on and within seconds, the flames were doused.
Shakily thankful, Alexis slumped against the front of the car and put her trembling hands in front of her face. A minute. She only needed a minute to compose herself.
“Hey, miss, are you all right?” one of the men asked. It wasn’t the voice of the first one who’d startled her into dropping the torch.
She glanced up. Suddenly, the clouds parted, the moon shone down with a dim glow, and Alexis could see three men facing her. All of them were wearing hastily donned shirts, boots and jeans. The tallest of the three approached her furiously.
“Who are you and why are you trying to burn down my ranch?”
“I’m not…I’m…I certainly didn’t do this on purpose,” she defended herself, lurching upright once again. “You startled me by sneaking up on me.”
“You’re saying this is my fault?”
Alexis couldn’t make out his features very well, but there was no mistaking the anger in his voice and the furious thrust of his jaw. “I’m only saying I was startled,” she shot back, beginning to grow angry herself. “I was trying to find my way to the house, and…”
“Carrying an open flame?”
“I don’t have a flashlight. Making a torch was all I could think of to do after I knocked over that mailbox and ran into the wall.”
“You knocked over the…” With a strangled sound, he stalked behind the car and stood staring down at the shattered pole and the mailbox that now pointed skyward. The other two men followed and the three of them stood shaking their heads and speaking in low tones.
After a moment, the first man stomped back to her. “Who are you? Do I have enemies somewhere that I don’t know about and they sent you here to burn me out?”
“Oh, of course not,” she said, her annoyance growing. “I don’t know if you have any enemies or not. I don’t even know who you are. I was looking for Mr. McTaggart. Mr. Jace McTaggart.”
“Well, you found him,” the man snapped. He clapped his hands onto his hips and thrust his jaw forward.
Alexis’s heart plummeted to the scorched soles of her sneakers. She leaned forward and squinted at him, but she could barely see his face. What she saw didn’t look very promising.
“You’re…you’re Mr. McTaggart, the head…the head of the Sleepy River school board?”
“Yes, heaven help us, I am.”
“Oh.” Of course, she thought. Why not an attempt at arson to cap off this long, miserable day? Week? Month?
She didn’t fold easily, though. Three hundred years of royal blood flowed in her veins. Her ancestors had once held out for three weeks against Napoleon’s forces. Her grandfather had personally buried much of the royal treasury in a farmer’s field rather than surrender it to the Nazis. She could handle this.
With the regal nod she’d copied from her grandmother, she held out her hand and said, “How do you do? I’m Alexis Chastain, the new schoolteacher.”
Jace squinted through the darkness. “Alexis…?”
“Chastain,” she supplied. “I’m here to teach at Sleepy River Community School.”
He leaned forward and stared into her face, though he couldn’t see much even with the help of the moonlight. “No. I don’t know who you are, or what you’re trying to pull, but the teacher we’ve hired is named Rachel Burrows and she’s…”
“Not coming,” the woman said firmly. “I’m here instead.”
This was a nightmare, Jace assured himself firmly. The past few minutes when he’d awakened to the sound of a car stopping, followed by a muffled thump and splintering of wood, jumped into his clothes, and dashed outside to find a strange—emphasis on the word strange—woman holding a flaming torch were all part of the nightmare. He blinked, ran his hand over his face, and looked around. No. It all looked too real. Maybe he wasn’t dreaming. Whatever was going on, he had to figure it out because this was his ranch. He was responsible for it and everyone on it. Jace took a deep breath. “What do you mean that you’re here instead?”
“Rachel couldn’t come, so I’m taking her place.” She gave a firm little nod.
“No, no, no.” He shook his head. “That’s not how it works. See, how it works is that the school board interviews then hires a teacher who arrives when the contract says, and…what’s the matter?”
The woman, the one with the fancy name of Alexis Chastain, was copying the way he shook his head as she said, “I told you, she can’t come so I’m taking her place.”
“That’s impossible,” Jace began with heat and not a little frustration. “You can’t do that….”
“Boss,” one of the other men broke in. “Does this have to be decided now? Can’t we go into the house? It’s near midnight and she looks about ready to drop.”
Jace looked over at the brothers who’d worked for him since graduating from high school just over a year ago. He couldn’t see much in the gloom, but he knew Rocky was the one who’d spoken. No doubt, Gil was nodding in agreement. He glanced back at the woman. He didn’t think she looked ready to drop. Her hands were on her hips, her spine was straight as a railroad spike, and if she tipped forward, that outthrust chin of hers would spear him in the chest. As far as he could tell, she looked ready to argue.
“Okay,” he said finally, giving her a wary look. “Gil, can you get this car out of here and park it up by the barn? Miss Chastain, give Gil your key and he’ll take care of the car for you.”
He was glad to see that she obeyed without question, meekly handing over the car key to Gil, who quickly started the vehicle and pulled away. Jace winced at the sound of metal scraping against the wall, then against the broken mailbox post, but Gil gave an apologetic wave and disappeared up the long, graveled driveway.
“I’ll put the hose away.” Jace took the end of the garden hose from Rocky and began looping it as he did a rope. He didn’t need to do this, but he always thought better if his hands were busy with something. What was he supposed to do with her? he thought furiously as he made loops in the plastic hose. Why hadn’t that Rachel Burrows girl they’d hired shown up as she’d promised? She’d signed a contract. Didn’t that mean anything? Blast it, he didn’t want to deal with this. He hadn’t even wanted to be head of the school board. He didn’t have kids. He would probably never even have kids. Why should he need to do the job?
Because it was his turn. In a community as small as Sleepy River, everyone took a turn at some job. This year, Jace was head of the school board.
Disgruntled, he nodded toward the other man. “Rocky, you take her up to the house.”
“I’ll go get your bag for you, miss,” Rocky said. “As soon as Gil parks your car for you.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” she said, and Jace could hear determination in her voice. She turned and stumbled around until she located her purse on the ground. She hitched the strap over her shoulder as she said, “I can take care of everything myself. If you’ll point me to the cottage I’m to occupy, I’ll be fine.”
Obviously, she thought that once she got inside the teacher’s cottage, they couldn’t dislodge her.
“It’s not ready,” Jace said.
“Not ready?” Now he heard a thread of panic in her voice. Hands thrust out, she turned from one to the other of them. “What do you mean?”
“You weren’t…I mean, Miss Burrows wasn’t