Wooing the Schoolmarm. Dorothy ClarkЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter Three

      “How could you be so wrong about those children? They are his wards.”

      Willa placed her platter of meat tarts on the plank table and looked up at Ellen. “Pastor Calvert brought them to school, they look like him and their last name is the same. I assumed he was their father, not their uncle. It was an understandable mistake.” Tears stung her eyes. Those poor children. To lose both their mother and father at such a young age. No wonder they looked sad.

      “Perhaps, but— Oh, look at this old gown.” Ellen batted at the ruffles on her bodice. “If I had known Pastor Calvert was a bachelor I would have had Mother hem my new gown. She says the color makes my eyes look larger and bluer.”

      Willa squared her shoulders and gave Ellen a look permitted by their years of friendship. Her friend hadn’t given a thought to the children—other than to be thankful the pastor was not their father. “You look beautiful in that gown, and you know it, Ellen. Now stop pouting. It’s wasted on me. I’ve watched you looking in the mirror to practice protruding your lower lip, remember?”

      The offending lip was pulled back into its normal position. “Very well. I suppose I understand your error. And I forgive you. But all the same, I am distressed. Had I known the truth of Matthew Calvert’s marital state, I could have thought of a plan to catch his attention. Look!”

      The hissed words tickled her ear. She glanced in the direction Ellen indicated. Matthew Calvert was coming across the church grounds toward the tables, his progress hindered by every young, unmarried lady in his congregation and their mothers. “So that’s where all the women are. I wondered. Usually they are hovering over the food to— Billy Karcher, you put down those cookies! They’re for after the meal.”

      The eight-year-old looked up from beneath the dark locks dangling on his forehead and gave her a gap-tooth grin. “I’m only makin’ thure I get thome.”

      Willa fought back a smile at his lost-tooth lisp and gave him her teacher look. “Those cookies are to share. You put that handful back and I promise to save two of them for you.”

      The boy heaved a sigh, dropped the cookies back onto the plate and ran off to join the children playing tag in the park. She searched the group. Where were Joshua and Sally?

      “Selfish little beast.”

      Willa jerked her gaze back to Ellen. “Billy is a child, not a beast.”

      “They seem one and the same to me.” Ellen glanced toward the church and sucked in a breath. “Pastor Calvert is coming this way. And he seems quite purposeful in his destination. I guess I caught his attention when Father introduced us after all.” A smug smile curved Ellen’s lovely, rosy lips. She turned her back, raised her hands and pinched her cheeks. “Are my curls in place, Willa?”

      She looked at the cluster of blond curls peeking from beneath the back of Ellen’s flower-bedecked hat and fought down a sudden, strong urge to yank one of them. “They’re fine.” She turned away from her friend’s smug smile. Ellen’s conceit had alienated most of their old friends, and it was putting a strain on their friendship. She sighed and moved the cookie plate to the back side of the table out of the reach of small, grasping hands. Ellen had been different before Callie Conner’s family had moved away. Their raven-haired friend’s astonishing beauty had kept Ellen’s vanity subdued. And Callie’s sweet nature—

      “May I interrupt your work a moment, ladies?”

      Matthew Calvert’s deep voice, as warm and smooth as the maple syrup the villagers made every spring, caused a shiver to run up her spine. She frowned, snatched the stem of a bright red leaf that had fallen on a bowl of boiled potatoes and tossed it to the ground. With a voice like that, it was no wonder the man was a preacher of some renown.

      Good manners dictated that she turn and smile—indignation rooted her in place. Joshua and Sally were nowhere in sight, yet Matthew Calvert had come seeking out Ellen to satisfy his own…aims. Well, she wanted nothing to do with a man who neglected the care of his young wards to satisfy his own selfishness. She looked at the people spreading blankets on the ground in preparation for their picnic meal and silently urged them to hurry. Beside her, Ellen made a slow turn, smiled and looked up through her long lashes. Another ploy perfected before the mirror. One that made men stammer and stutter.

      “May I help you, Reverend Calvert?”

      Willa scowled at her friend’s dulcet tone and moved a small crock of pickles closer to the potatoes, focused her attention on the green vine pattern circling the rim of the large bowl. She had no desire to hear the pastor’s flirtatious response to Ellen’s coyness. She wanted to go home—away from them both.

      “Thank you, Miss Hall, you’re most kind. But it’s Miss Wright I seek.”

      Shock zinged all the way to her toes. What could Matthew Calvert possibly want with her? Ellen evidently thought the same if the hastily erased look of surprise on her friend’s face was any indication. She turned. “You wished to speak with me?”

      Something flashed in the pastor’s eyes. Surprise? Puzzlement? Shock at her coolness? No doubt the handsome Matthew Calvert was unaccustomed to such treatment from women.

      He dipped his head. “Yes. I’ve come to ask if you would be so kind as to keep watch on Joshua and Sally this afternoon, Miss Wright.” He glanced at the tables and a frown furrowed his forehead. “I see that you are busy, and I hate to impose, but I am at a loss as to what else to do.”

      His gaze lifted to meet hers and she read apparent concern in his eyes. Guilt tugged at her. Had she been wrong about him neglecting his wards?

      “As this welcome dinner is in my honor, I must visit with my parishioners, and Joshua and Sally are uncomfortable among so many new people. I thought, perhaps, as the children know you and are comfortable with you…” He stopped, gave a little shrug. “I would consider it a great favor if you could help them. But, of course, I will understand if you must stay here at the tables.”

      So he wanted to be free of the children so he could get acquainted with his parishioners…like Ellen, no doubt. She forced a smile.

      “Not at all. Ellen can help in my place.” She ignored her friend’s soft gasp. Let her flirt her way out of that! “Where are the children?”

      “They’re sitting on the front steps at the parsonage. I didn’t want to force them to join us.”

      Of course not. That would hamper his…getting acquainted. She nodded, reached under the table and drew a plate from her basket, placed three meat tarts and three boiled eggs on it, then lifted the cookie plate in her other hand and started across the intervening ground. The pastor fell in beside her.

      “Let me carry those for you, Miss Wright.”

      She halted, glanced up and shook her head. “I think it best if I go alone. You go and meet the people of Pinewood, Reverend Calvert.” From the corner of her eye she saw Ellen shake out the ruffles on her long skirt and glide across the leaf-strewn ground toward them. She hurried on toward the children, but could not resist looking over her shoulder. It did not seem to bother the pastor that Ellen had left the table of food unattended. They were laughing together as they walked toward the blanket Mrs. Hall had spread on the ground. It seemed Reverend Calvert would partake of his first church dinner in Pinewood with the prettiest girl in the village by his side.

      * * *

      Willa glanced toward the church. People were beginning to gather their things together. She moved to the top of the gazebo steps. “Children, the game is over. Come and get your cookies, then go join your parents. It’s time to go home.”

      “First one to touch wood wins!” Tommy Burke shouted the challenge, then turned and sprinted toward the gazebo. Children came running from every direction. Joshua put on a burst of speed surprising in one so young.

      Willa