Wooing the Schoolmarm. Dorothy Clark
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“Thank you for allowing me to unburden myself of my concerns over Sally and Joshua, Miss Wright. It was good of you to listen. Good afternoon.”
She nodded, opened the door and stepped inside, but could not resist a glance over her shoulder. He was running to his buggy.
“I expected you home when the storm started, Willa. Was there something wrong? I heard a buggy. Are you all right?”
She closed the door, turned and shoved the wet hood off her head. “I’m fine, Mama. Reverend Calvert’s ward, Sally, is frightened of thunderstorms and it took a bit to calm her. The reverend drove me home because of the rain.”
“You were scared of thunder and lightning when you were little. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember.” Too many things. The memories keep rearing up and betraying me. “You used to hold me and tell me stories.”
Her mother smiled and nodded. “I hope the reverend’s little girl gets over her fright. It’s a terrible thing when a child is afraid.” She narrowed her eyes, peered closely at her. “Are you certain you’re all right, Willa? You look…odd.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why. I’m perfectly fine.” She was. Or at least she would be, as soon as the tingly warmth of Matthew Calvert’s touch left her hand.
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