Chapter 10
A/N #1: And we're back! Thank you so much to those readers wishing me well on my recent medical procedure. Everything went alright, and as you can see, I'm back in front of my computer busily typing away :)
Sunday morning
The last notes of Come Home, Poor Sinner faded away while the congregation remained standing for the final prayer. Before Pastor Spencer could ask everyone to please bow their heads, his wife timidly raised her hand from where she sat every Sunday on the left side front bench, directly across the aisle from the Sherwin family. Excusing himself, he stepped away from the lectern, and crouching down beside Mrs. Spencer, listened attentively to her whisper something in his ear.
Getting to his feet with a wide smile, the pastor gently patted his wife's arm and returned to the front of the room. "Brothers and sisters, my dear Mary Alice has asked me to remind all of you that the annual midwinter Grange social will be held here next Saturday night. I believe the music usually starts at 7:00 p.m., and of course, everyone in the community is invited. Along with all the fine refreshments prepared by the good ladies of our congregation, it should be a splendid evening of fellowship that I, for one, am looking forward to. Now, if you'll bow your heads, we will dismiss with a prayer."
Though she dutifully closed her eyes and dipped her chin along with everyone else, Lucy's suddenly wayward mind was not focused on the pastor's closing prayer, but instead on the unexpected thrill she felt at his announcement. A social? A proper social with music and dancing? How exciting. It had been such a terribly long time since she'd attended any event beyond the occasional reception or dull faculty tea during her years spent at college–in truth, not since Lucy's unofficial coming out party on New Year's Eve mere weeks before her father fell ill.
As it usually did, a muted wave of sorrow filled her heart for Papa...and possibly (in a small way) for what had turned out to be the last few days her sheltered, not quite 18-year-old self viewed the world so innocently. Those fleeting final hours of 1873 also happened to be when she'd met her one and only beau for the first time-and too quickly, naively fancied herself in love. How very different her life would be today if she'd chosen to accept the man's lackluster proposal and followed in her late mother's footsteps to become a young San Francisco society matron, Lucy reflected not for the first time since arriving in Texas. Choices. As Henry Preston had patiently taught his only child from a young age, life was nothing more than a series of choices one made...some big...some small...some, unfortunately, perhaps not as wise as others.
Lucy had made her choice that momentous day in her father's house on Nob Hill when Noah came to call for the last time and never once regretted it. Yes, her days had occasionally been difficult and oftentimes lonely, but all that was in the past, because here she was, living on a horse ranch in the middle of Texas for the time being, teaching school–and enjoying every minute of her exciting new life. And this coming Saturday night, there was going to be a social, an event Lucy was already very much looking forward to...but only for the opportunity to meet more of her students' families in a casual setting, of course, she reasoned, trying to be practical (and probably failing miserably).
Seconds later, on a purely shallow note, however, Lucy couldn't help feeling grateful the shrewd dressmaker back in Belton had persuaded her to buy the lovely pink and white striped party dress and matching slippers. This was followed almost instantly by the naturally feminine hope that all her hosts would be attending the event. A tiny shiver went up her spine at just the thought of a certain blue-eyed cowboy seeing her in the becoming gown. Strange how the handsome, perfectly-mannered Dr. Cooke–her frequent escort and companion during those last years living in California-never managed to arouse anywhere near the attraction Lucy so readily felt for Wyatt Logan (without any effort on his part, to her chagrin).
Discreetly peeking at the man standing on her left, the subtle warmth of his arm against hers, she silently admired his strong, handsome profile. So much for keeping him at arm's length, Lucy thought ruefully, the solemn oath she made to herself Friday after school lasting not even 24 hours-especially after the events of yesterday. Not only had she greatly enjoyed her visit to the stables with Wyatt (even appreciating his offer to teach her to ride once she got over the initial shock), but learning more about him from his grandmother, too, after her discovery of the family cemetery made it nearly impossible for Lucy to continue keeping her distance. If anything, for better or worse, she felt even more strongly drawn to this man.
No stranger herself to sorrow after the painful loss of her dear father, Lucy's compassionate heart wanted to break all over again every time Wyatt was near her for the unthinkable tragedy he suffered not quite two years ago on top of losing his parents as a small boy. How much grief could one man bear and keep his sanity? she wondered pensively. Added to those feelings was the revealing conversation she'd had with Mrs. Sherwin yesterday afternoon over lunch. While Lucy imagined Wyatt would probably be angry with his grandmother for sharing so much of his private information with a woman he barely knew, she was nonetheless grateful to gain a bit of insight into this man who'd effortlessly managed to intrigue her from the moment she fell into his strong arms.
Thankfully, she managed to refocus her attention just in time to murmur, 'Amen,' along with everyone around her when the Pastor concluded. Once the congregation was dismissed, Lucy was supremely conscious of Wyatt's solid presence by her side, his large, calloused hand securely cupping her elbow as they leisurely followed his grandparents toward the double doors to shake hands with Pastor Spencer and his wife...almost as if they were a couple.
Mentally chiding herself for such fanciful thoughts, Lucy smiled and nodded and greeted some of the parents she'd met earlier in the week when they came to pick up their children at school. What a nice difference from last Sunday when she didn't know anyone but her hosts. The townspeople of Brady and the surrounding area had so far been quite welcoming. She and Wyatt were almost to the open doorway when Lucy felt a gentle tug on her skirts and looked down to see Sarah Jane Coleman.
"Why, hello there, Miss Sarah Jane," she greeted the child cheerfully, who beamed up at her. Her gaze was drawn to the tall, broad-shouldered man standing quietly behind the little girl. Noting his dark red hair, Lucy quickly surmised the man was most likely Sarah Jane's father. Impulsively holding out her gloved hand, she smiled brightly and said, "Good morning, I'm guessing you might be Mr. Coleman. I'm Lucy Preston, the new school teacher."
Because he was still holding onto her, she felt rather than saw Wyatt stiffen up by her side when the other man hesitated only a second before returning the smile, and reaching over his young daughter's head, firmly shook her hand.
"Good guess. I am in fact Jed Coleman, and it's very nice to meet you, Miss Preston. I won't take up too much of your time, but wanted you to know what a powerful impression you've made on my little girl. Sarah Jane took her mama's death a couple years ago pretty hard, and it's done my heart good to see how excited she was each morning this past week to get up and go to school...and then when she's home, it's 'Miss Preston' this and 'Miss Preston' that. I figure that's to your credit, Ma'am, and you have my gratitude," he said warmly. Lucy blushed and dropped her eyes at the unmistakable admiration she heard in his deep voice.
Abruptly aware Wyatt had inexplicably moved closer to her, she murmured her thanks for the flattering compliment as Mr. Coleman tipped his hat politely before taking Sarah Jane by the hand and bidding them 'good day.' When father and daughter walked past them, Wyatt nodded and said rather tersely, "Coleman." Glancing curiously at him from beneath her lashes, Lucy couldn't help but wonder about the cowboy's less than cordial greeting. Perhaps there was some bad blood between the two men? Mr. Coleman certainly seemed pleasant enough to her, but to be sure, it had also been a very brief interaction. Undoubtedly, the normally well-mannered Wyatt had his reasons for behaving so coolly around the man...
And just like that, a perfectly nice Sunday felt like anything but to Wyatt. After church services were over and all during the carriage ride home, while the others conversed amiably, he remained silent, brooding about the unmistakable interest he noticed on Jed Coleman's face as the older man discreetly looked Lucy over from head to toe. And unfortunately (depending on a person's point of view), the farmer wasn't the only one. While waiting their turn to shake hands with Pastor and Mrs. Spencer, Wyatt had noticed a couple other men staring–some pretty damn openly-at the woman by his side.
You'd think a female as beautiful as the teacher would notice such attention, but as far as he could tell, Miss Lucy Preston from San Francisco was completely oblivious to the effect she was having on the male population of Brady (whether they were married or not). For some reason he didn't care to examine too closely, this irritated the hell out of him. To make matters worse, try as he might, Wyatt could not stop hearing the sheriff's voice in his head from their conversation at lunch yesterday...
"So, Captain Logan...do you or do you not have your eye on the very comely Miss Preston? Before you answer, a word of advice, brother. What with the scarcity of unmarried women of a certain age around these parts–especially ones who look as nice as she does–you might not wanna take too long to decide. Because right off the top of my head, I can think of at least a half dozen men who would be quite pleased to court the pretty teacher..."
Naturally, he brushed off the sheriff's annoying, but still presumably well-meant warning at the time because after knowing him for going on ten years now, Wyatt was fully aware Dave had a tendency to occasionally embellish any story he was telling. He'd seen it himself countless times over the years. Up to now, he usually considered this particular habit of his friend's to be highly entertaining–especially when sitting around a campfire or a poker table with a bunch of other men (and there was alcohol involved). At the moment, however, Wyatt was feeling anything but 'entertained' because...well, dammit, because this was altogether different circumstances. This wasn't a random tall tale about some stranger.
When it came to Lucy Preston, not only did it look like his friend hit the nail on the head, but he had a sinking feeling Dave's careless 'half dozen' remark might even possibly be under estimating the situation...and not only because single and widowed men greatly outnumbered unmarried women in their tiny community. When you add to that dismal, undisputable fact what an attractive, refined lady Lucy was, it would be a divine miracle if a few of the lonely, bolder unmarried men didn't come courting sooner rather than later–a notion that did not set well with him at all...oh, hell, no...
And now there was the pastor's announcement about a dance next Saturday night for him to worry about. Sitting right beside her, close enough that their arms touched, it hadn't escaped Wyatt's attention the way Lucy had tensed up ever so slightly when the pastor made the announcement about the Grange social. And who could blame the woman for maybe getting a little bit excited? She was young and pretty, and as both Gran and Gramps had reminded Wyatt, probably did feel lonely at times since moving here with only his family for company.
While he'd rarely been home to attend during his years with the Rangers, his grandparents almost never missed the annual social, and Rufus usually showed up as well. Gran had delicately broached the subject of the dance a year ago since he was retired, but at the time, Jess and Mattie had been gone only a few months, and Wyatt absolutely refused to discuss or even consider the idea. Now that another year had passed and it was going on two since losing his wife, his grandmother might not be put off so easily, he realized unhappily.
Unwillingly, his mind circled back to Lucy going to the dance with his grandparents. He was definitely no expert when it came to females, but Wyatt would bet the entire Sherwin ranch a woman like that had not traveled to Brady without a party dress of some kind. He frowned suddenly, picturing the whole thing in his mind. A beauty like Lucy Preston wearing a fancy dress in front of a room full of men salivating at the thought of dancing with her...what could possibly go wrong? His hands tightened involuntarily around the reins.
Of course, knowing the teacher, those perfect manners that seemed to be as instinctive to her as breathing meant she would naturally feel obliged to partner with every man with a pulse for miles around who asked...one after the other. He swore under his breath at the miserable thought of standing along the wall all evening having to witness such a God-awful spectacle–but what choice did he have? After all, the woman was a guest in his home for the time being.
If Wyatt didn't go, who would look out for Lucy if one of those dance partners behaved inappropriately towards her? She was a genteel, well-brought up lady who he assumed had very little experience with men (and was probably far too polite to object even if someone did try to step over the line). Of course, he would expect his grandparents to take their chaperone duties seriously enough–but maybe not as strictly as Wyatt would. And that was the problem...
He supposed Rufus or Dave-both men that Wyatt trusted with his very life-could keep on eye on her. On second thought, probably not the greatest solution, though, since the sheriff wasn't exactly known for his discretion. On the off chance Lucy found out about him making such an arrangement with his friends, Wyatt highly doubted she would approve of what he considered to be a kind of 'brotherly' concern for her safety and reputation. Not only would she be upset with him but there was also the distinct possibility it would embarrass her as well. That was the last thing Wyatt wanted.
Dammit. Seemed like there was only one solution then, because he couldn't in good conscience stay at home on Saturday night and risk her honor. He truly didn't think he could live with himself if something happened. Belatedly, it occurred to Wyatt if he did accompany Lucy and his grandparents to the social, he might possibly be expected to dance. He shuddered mentally at just the thought.
An inherently modest man, Wyatt considered himself to be fairly proficient at a few things like riding and shooting–but dancing (of any kind) was most definitely not on that list. The last time he'd attended one of the socials was years before when he and Jess had been newly married. He was seldom able to deny his beloved wife anything, but not even she could coax Wyatt into dancing in front of their friends and neighbors and making a fool of himself.
His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the man beside him, who dipped his head and murmured under the bright chatter of the ladies behind them, "Anything in particular on your mind, son? I can tell by the frown you've been wearing since we left town there's something gnawing away at you." He appreciated the concern, truly did, but ever since Wyatt was just a small boy, James Sherwin had the uncanny ability to read his grandson's mind, and he was in no mood for it today.
Catching sight of the perceptive look on his grandpa's face out of the corner of his eye (but choosing wisely to ignore it), Wyatt shifted uncomfortably on the carriage seat. With some effort, he deliberately smoothed out the frown creasing his brow and resolutely kept his gaze straight ahead on the road as the horse and carriage briskly ate up the miles. "No, sir, everything's fine," Wyatt gritted out, greatly relieved when the turn off to the ranch finally came into view.
Pulling the carriage to a stop in front of the farmhouse, he jumped down to help Lucy, wrapping his hands firmly around her slim waist and setting her on the ground. She smiled up at him, the faint scent of her thick dark hair teasing his nose, and breathlessly whispered, 'thank you,' before turning away to follow his grandparents inside. For a long moment, Wyatt stared after her, his conflicted heart beating just a bit faster than usual. Lucy Preston was starting to tie him up in knots...and he didn't like it one damn bit.
Despite being uncomfortably aware it was his grandmother's fondest wish, he had no intentions of ever marrying again-not even to a lady as fine as Lucy. Yet to his dismay, with each passing day, Wyatt felt more and more drawn to the young woman–to the point that the very idea of another man courting and (almost certainly) proposing to her filled his chest with all kinds of confusing feelings...not the least of which included anger, if he were being brutally honest with himself. What the hell did all that even mean?
Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, he climbed into the carriage and drove around back of the barn to unhitch the bay before leading him into his stall. Forcing himself to take a few slow, deep breaths, in and out, in and out, Wyatt took his sweet time brushing the horse down. No real pressing need to hurry, not when Sunday dinner was always cold fried chicken and other dishes Martha prepared early in the morning for the family to serve themselves since the housekeeper generally had Sunday afternoons off.
Unsurprisingly, he began to relax and found his mood much improved once the task was complete around a half hour later, each stroke of the brush across the bay's glossy coat helping to calm his unsettling thoughts. No matter what might be troubling Wyatt at any given time, his worries tended to slip away when spending time around the horses he loved. God knows the beautiful, intelligent animals had helped to gradually heal his broken heart after losing Jess and baby Matthew. Aside from living and working with his grandparents on the ranch, there was nothing on this earth that made Wyatt Logan happier than being with horses.
Gramps might not necessarily agree, but privately, he considered perhaps it had been a fortuitous stroke of luck when the older man broke his arm so badly. No telling how long Wyatt's stint with the Rangers might've ended up being otherwise. While there had been satisfaction at times in knowing he and Dave and the other men serving with them had done their best to keep the people of Texas and beyond safe-still, those were seven long, often violent, dangerous years, and Wyatt had walked away with no regrets. He found his new life running a horse ranch to be very satisfying indeed.
Stepping out of the bay's stall and fastening the door behind him, he was amused to see Commander and Caesar hanging their heads over the stall doors fussing at him like a pair of spoiled siblings trying to catch their father's attention. "Easy there, gentleman," Wyatt assured the stallions with a grin, "Plenty of me to go around. We'll go riding later on after lunch, with both of you getting equal time, I promise." After a few soothing pats to each that would hopefully appease their wounded sensibilities, he headed across the yard and through the back door to wash up in the kitchen sink before eating.
In much better spirits now, Wyatt pushed open the dining room door and found only his grandparents seated at the table with empty plates, apparently waiting on him. "I'm really sorry, Gran, I didn't think I was in the stables all that long. You should have started without me," he began apologetically, dropping into his seat with a sigh of pleasure. Wyatt wondered briefly at Lucy's absence, but maybe she'd already eaten and gone to her room? He started to reach for the platter of cold fried chicken when his grandmother spoke.
Looking toward her husband at the other end of the table, Betsy frowned slightly and replied, "That's alright, dear. No rush. But where's Lucy?" When he glanced between the couple in obvious confusion, James chuckled and said they'd sent Lucy out to the barn to tell him their lunch was ready, and she must have gone out the front door while Wyatt was coming in the back. Shaking his head in bemusement, Wyatt stood and offered to fetch her while they went ahead and started eating.
Going out the front door this time (just in case), he hurried back across the yard. Once inside the barn, Wyatt stopped and peering through the cool, dim daylight, was taken aback to see Lucy standing at the far end in front of Maisie's stall with her back to him. His curiosity piqued at what the teacher might be doing, he impulsively crept quietly along the aisle and drew within a foot or so of her without being seen, yet close enough to hear her low, soothing voice as she gently stroked the mare's long, elegant neck.
"...and so even though I know your owner means well, I couldn't bring myself accept his kind offer, you see, not right now, anyway. Too much of a coward, I guess." She sighed. "Oh well. I'll just have to somehow work on this irrational fear on my own. Please don't take this personally, but I just don't think I'm ready to get back on a horse, even one as fine as you," Lucy confided wistfully, gazing into the mare's soft dark eyes.
"Still, while it probably sounds foolish, I suppose I thought maybe we could get to know each other a little better in case I happen to eventually change my mind. Thank you for listening so patiently, Maisie. You are quite a sweet lady, just like Wyatt said." He grinned, charmed by the heart-to-heart conversation between lady and horse. Wyatt thought approvingly it was to the teacher's credit that she was at least amenable to the idea of riding sometime in the future. Reluctant to startle her, yet mindful of their lunch waiting, he softly cleared his throat...
Lucy immediately froze at the husky sound, and whirled around to see the man himself only inches away, watching her intently. Where had he come from so quietly? (And more importantly, just how long had he been listening to her go on and on?) Even worse, beneath her surprise, a tiny, extremely superficial part of her mind couldn't help but notice and admire his lean, freshly-shaven face-yet whimsically decided she'd come to prefer the dark scuff shadowing his jaw during the week. She shook her head mentally at such trivial thoughts. My heavens, Lucy, try to focus.
She was embarrassed to realize that, depending on how long he'd been standing behind her, it was quite likely Wyatt had overheard every word she'd just said. To a horse. Before Lucy could even begin to offer any kind of convincing explanation, her breath caught at the slow, dimpled smile he gave her. Oh, how unfair it was the way a smile from this man made her heart race. They stared at each other solemnly for a long moment. Was it only her, or was she imaging the feeling of tension in the air between them? Scrambling to regain her composure, Lucy felt compelled to fill the uncomfortable silence between them.
"Uh, Wyatt, my goodness, I didn't know you were standing there...um, so, as it happens, your grandmother sent me to tell you lunch was ready, but when I didn't see you, on an impulse, I thought to spend a brief minute or two getting to know your horse...not that I'm ready to try riding or anything..." she stammered, grasping desperately for something intelligent to say.
"She's a very nice horse, Maisie is, just like you told me, and I'm sure will be a fine mount if, perhaps when, I gather up enough courage to ride again..." Mortified to hear herself babbling like an insipid schoolgirl, Lucy's voice miserably trailed off as she tried to look away from his amused blue eyes (and ignore the blush pinking her cheeks). She was more than grateful when Wyatt mercifully ignored her awkwardness and stepped forward to affectionately rub Maisie's velvety nose.
"Well now, that's a funny coincidence, Ma'am, because Gran sent me to fetch you. Looks like we must've crossed paths without catching sight of each other then," he said lightly. "Most likely, I was going in the back door to wash up when you went out the front door to come out here. But now we've found each other and can go into lunch together, which will make my grandmother quite happy. And I should probably apologize for rudely eavesdropping on you and Miss Maisie here, but I'm very glad to hear you haven't decided against riding altogether. As for courage, I have faith a lady like yourself who has already proven her bravery will make the decision that's right for you," Wyatt assured Lucy earnestly, fixing his gaze on her face.
At the warm regard in those dark blue eyes, she suddenly felt her distress melting away. Wyatt Logan thought she was brave? A fine compliment, indeed. Now her face felt warm for a very different reason. Was she imagining things? Was it possible that the cowboy wasn't exactly as indifferent to her as she'd first assumed? Taking the arm Wyatt gallantly offered her with a shy smile, Lucy realized she had much more to think about in the coming days than deciding whether or not to attempt riding sometime in the future...like the dance on Saturday night...
A/N #2: Hmmm...not a lot of what you might call "action" in this somewhat introspective chapter, but apparently Wyatt and Lucy both had a lot on their minds they needed to work through. Next up is the Brady midwinter social, where the sparks are bound to fly between the protective (one might say possessive?) cowboy and the hopeful teacher as the two continue to circle around each other, stubbornly trying to resist this near instant attraction they feel :) Thank you to everyone who is still interested in reading Timeless fanfics. Your favorites, follows and reviews are much appreciated and a constant source of encouragement and inspiration to me :) P.S. With this update, I'm please to note that "Yellow Rose of Texas" has officially passed the 50,000 word mark ...only my third story to do so, along with First Steps and Guarding My Heart. Thanks again :))