The Texan's Inherited Family. Noelle Marchand
Читать онлайн книгу.
standing before her with a greenish-yellow ring around his left eye. She knelt down. “How are you, Jake?”
He shrugged. “Aw, I’m fine, ma’am. Pa told me to be sure to give you this.”
She took the envelope he handed her then thanked him and sent him into the schoolroom with the rest of the children. She tore open the letter, which was so brief it was almost a waste of good paper. She was to dismiss the children thirty minutes early so that an emergency meeting of the school board could convene at the schoolhouse that afternoon.
She pulled in a calming breath. No need to panic. Despite all of her hopes to the contrary, she’d seen this coming. Perhaps it didn’t have to be a bad thing. After all, this meant her job performance would be reviewed by all the members of the school board—not just Mr. Etheridge. The two other members had seemed nice and welcoming when she’d met them at the beginning of the term. But what if Mr. Etheridge was able to convince them that she was inept at her job?
She could always return home. Her parents had made sure she knew their door was always open to her, but she didn’t want to leave Peppin. In this town, she was known for what she did and who she was. In Austin, people knew her for what her family did and who they were in society. She’d received this teaching position based on her own merit, not on the influence of her family. She meant to make the most of this opportunity and that did not mean getting fired only five weeks into the semester. If Mr. Etheridge thought it would be easy to get rid of her, he had another think coming. She might not be able to be a wife and mother, but she had no intention of letting her replacement dream slip through her fingers without a fight.
Please. Please. Please. Quinn’s pleading matched the hurried rhythm of his steps as he left the schoolhouse behind. What were the chances that God had seen fit to answer Quinn’s prayer for a wife only seconds after he’d spoken it? That could very well be the case if the paper that had gotten caught up in his banjo strings was the same one he’d overheard Helen saying she’d lost—the Bachelor List.
If Ellie had included him on the list, surely she would have matched him with someone who would be a good mother and wouldn’t mind hitching up with the likes of him. Why, he might not have to do any courting at all if he showed the woman they’d been matched on the list. The children could have a mother by the end of the week if this panned out.
He waited until he could duck into the alleyway beside Maddie’s Café then pulled the list from his pocket, grateful that his lack of time to do laundry meant he had on the same pants he’d worn the night before. He unfolded the paper and pressed it against the side of the building to smooth it out. It certainly appeared to be a list of some kind. He ran his finger down the column of script, looking for the circle with the line through the side of it that would signify the beginning of his name. There it was. Q-u-i-n-n. Quinn. The only word he knew how to read and write.
“Thank You, God! I’m on the list.”
He threw a kiss heavenward to thank his grandmother for giving him the skills to figure out that much. However, as usual, it wasn’t enough. He knew from all the talk he’d heard about the list that the name of the woman he was supposed to marry should be right next to his. That looked to be true, but whose name started with a letter that looked as if he was staring straight at a beefy Longhorn bull?
Folding the paper back in his pocket, he blew out a sigh and pounded the side of his fist on the wall. He was going to have to ask for help. There was no way around it this time.
Two years. He’d been in this town for two years and no one knew that he was illiterate. Never once had he needed to set aside his pride and admit defeat until now. What else could he do? The children needed a mother. He needed them to have a mother.
He knew just who to go to for help, even if it would be a bit humbling. He walked into Maddie’s Café and waved his thanks to the proprietress for keeping an eye on the two youngest children while he’d taken the elder two their dinners. Maddie offered him a distracted smile as she went about filling orders. Quinn realized it probably hadn’t been a good idea to leave them with her since they were quietly drawing on the table with their colored chalk rather than the slates they’d been given. He wiped the evidence away with his sleeve the best he could before removing the chalk from their hands, which started Olivia wailing.
Quinn placed the eighteen-month-old on his hip then grabbed the hand of four-year-old Trent and hurried outside. The only blond in the family, Trent’s brown eyes stayed as solemn as he’d been silent since soon after his parents’ deaths. The boy’s little legs chugged along as he frowned up at Quinn, who took that as a sign to slow down. Olivia stopped wailing long enough to push away from him and stare at a passing lady. The little girl reached out for the stranger. The woman saw her and smiled. It was a heartwarming moment until the girl’s hand latched on to the fake red bird on the lady’s hat. There was a struggle and when the woman finally managed to get away, she was missing the ornament. Quinn gently wrestled it from his niece’s hand and offered it to its owner. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
The woman shook her head as she backed away. “She can keep it.”
“Sorry!” Quinn called again then stared into Olivia’s blue eyes as he gave the bird back to her. “The last thing I need is for you to start running off women.”
The girl hugged the fake feathered ornament to her chest. Looking at him very intently, she said, “Doggie.”
“No. That’s a birdie.”
“Doggie.”
“Sugar, you can talk real good for your age, but most of what you say just isn’t right. Maybe I ought to get Miss McKenna to have a talk with you.” He reached down to grab Trent’s hand again but came up empty. He glanced down. There was no trace of the boy. Panic rose in his throat. “Trent!”
Something landed on his boot—a little hand, which was attached to a pudgy arm. That was all he could see because the rest of Trent’s body was underneath the raised wooden sidewalk. Quinn knelt down to haul the boy out of there. “What are you doing? How did you even fit under there? Now you’re covered in dirt.”
The boy didn’t respond. He never did. Instead, he just frowned even harder and lifted a bright red feather that obviously belonged to the bird’s tail. The sight melted Quinn’s heart and it was all he could do to remain firm, when he wanted nothing more than to hug the boy close. “Thank you for picking that up for your sister, but you must not do that again. Do you understand?”
He waited for Trent to nod before wiping the dirt from the boy’s face and combing the mussed blond hair into place. “That’s good because you scared me. I thought I’d lost you. Hold on to my hand and don’t let go. We need to cross the street. Are you ready?”
With Trent dutifully clutching his hand and Olivia on his hip, Quinn made it across the street into the blacksmith’s shop. Rhett Granger glanced up from whatever he was pounding on at the iron. “Be right with you, Quinn.”
Quinn put Olivia on the counter and set Trent beside her, caging them in with his arms and body. Olivia was too busy playing with her ill-gotten gains to care, but Trent immediately started wriggling. “Hold still, son. This will only take a minute.”
Rhett tucked his work gloves in the pocket of the leather apron he was wearing. He approached the counter with smiles for the children, who completely ignored him. “How can I help y’all?”
“Rhett, you’re one of the most trustworthy men I know and a real good friend.”
His friend’s amber eyes lit with surprise. “Thanks, Quinn. I could say the same about you, but you didn’t just come in here to shower me with praise, did you? Not that I mind if you did...”
“No, and I don’t have the time or the patience to beat around the bush, so I’m going to come out with it.” Quinn reluctantly allowed Trent to slide to the floor since the boy was trying to climb down his body, anyway.