slaughters a handful of cows every year and gives the meat away. He’s the one who paid for your new schoolhouse.”
Which made him sound like a leading citizen. “But what about the gambling?”
“That wasn’t good,” Daisy admitted. “He stopped years ago, but while he was playing, there were bad times in town. I guess he grew up. Accepted his responsibilities.”
“Except when it comes to the schoolteachers,” Alethea said, then pressed her lips together.
Her friend laughed. “Don’t worry about your reputation. The more we get to know you, the more we’re convinced you’re the one woman who can stand up to Zeke Titan.”
Alethea hoped that was true. “The other women he was with, the ones who were sent away. Were there…” She cleared her throat. “There were children involved, were there not?”
Daisy shook her head. “Not that I know of. Zeke was real careful that way.” She put down the box of wool. “I know he’s wild and flouts the rules. Still, there’s something about him we all like.”
“He’s prideful.”
Daisy grinned. “Show me a man who isn’t.” Her gaze sharpened. “You’re not going to give in to Zeke, are you? We’re counting on you to defeat him.”
Alethea thought about her last encounter with Zeke. There seemed to be little chance of his pursuing her now.
“No. I won’t be giving in. Fear not.”
“But he is a charming devil. I can tell you that more than one lady in town had hoped to be the one to change his ways. He’ll settle down eventually and whoever he chooses will be a lucky woman.” Daisy leaned close. “I’ve heard stories from the young women who were with him. They were forever changed. Apparently Zeke knows things about a woman’s body.”
“Immoral things,” Alethea said quickly, even as she wondered what they could be. Her intimate time with her husband had always been pleasant. A warm joining of bodies and spirit. She’d looked forward to him holding her and kissing her. The actual act itself was less appealing, although there had been one time when he’d spent long minutes touching her between her legs. She’d felt something amazing, a rush of pleasure that had taken her breath away.
It had been dark and she’d done her best to make sure Wesley hadn’t known how she’d had to scream into her pillow to keep him from hearing. He’d never touched her that way again and she hadn’t had the courage to ask.
Did Zeke do that? Did he touch a woman between her legs until she had to scream into a pillow? Were there other things?
Not the point, she thought, wondering why it was suddenly so warm in the storeroom. It appeared she had misjudged him. The fact that he was seducing her so that she had to leave was beside the point. She’d been wrong about him. Had assumed the worst. She owed him an apology and he would have it.
Alethea sent Zeke a carefully worded note, inviting him to dinner. The note was sent back with an equally polite refusal. She used Daisy’s oven to bake a cake and sent it to him. It was sent back uneaten. The next day, he passed her on the street and politely tipped his hat, but in no other way acknowledged her.
Alethea didn’t like feeling that she was in the wrong, and if Zeke wouldn’t even allow her to apologize, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to fix things. As a last resort, she slipped a single piece of paper under his door at the hotel.
“To err is human, to forgive, divine.” Alexander Pope.
Later than evening, she noticed the paper had been returned. Under her line, Zeke had written one of his own.
“It is easier to forgive an enemy than a friend.” William Blake.
Meaning what? They were friends? Or did he prefer to think of her as an enemy?
She spent most of the night coming up with a suitable response.
“Action is eloquence.” William Shakespeare. Underneath she carefully wrote, “I am truly sorry.” She slipped the note under his door on her way to breakfast.
It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Alethea had promised herself she would clean out the schoolhouse, but the warm, sunny day tempted. Maybe just a couple of hours of cleaning, she told herself. Then she would be free to enjoy the rest of the day.
She dressed in her oldest blouse and tied a scarf around her hair. Armed with a bucket, rags and a broom, she went to the school and began dusting every surface. She used wet rags to wipe down desks and windowsills.
In a month, when school was out for the summer, the building would be emptied and painted, repairs done. But until then, her morning of cleaning would have to do.
She swept the hardwood floor, coughing at the dust, then put a damp rag on her broom and used it to get up the worst of the dirt and marks. Close to noon, hot and flushed and damp from her labor, she assembled her supplies, prepared to walk back to town. As she closed and locked the door behind her, she noticed someone sitting on the bench by the window. The man was sprawled in his seat, his long legs stretched in front of him, his hat covering most of his face.
Even without seeing his face, she recognized Zeke. Aware she was not at her best, she thought about slipping away while he slept. But the need to speak to him, to apologize, was too great. She moved toward him.
Before she could reach him, he straightened and pushed his hat back in place.
“You about done in there?” he asked.
“You watched me work?”
“You sweep with vigor, Mrs. Harbaugh.”
“I try to apply myself to all my tasks,” she said, staring into his dark eyes. “Including apologizing to you…” She hesitated, then added, “Zeke.”
“I got your notes,” he said, studying her, his gaze moving over her face, then down her dress.
“And the cake.”
“Yes, that, too. You’re determined. I’ll give you that.” He stood and gave her a slow smile that made her insides go all shaky. “And I forgive you, Alethea.”
Relief tasted sweet. “It was an understandable mistake to make,” she pointed out.
“Now there you go, ruining a perfectly good apology.” He nodded toward town. “I’ll let it go, however, if you take a walk with me.”
She thought about the dust on her clothes and the possible smudges on her face. “I must look a sight.”
“I could do without the rag in your hair,” he admitted.
“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that. She pulled it free before realizing she’d forgotten to pin up her hair that morning. The long, loose curls tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. She tried to smooth her hair.
“I look like a schoolgirl,” she said self-consciously.
When he responded with “You look beautiful,” she couldn’t help her flush. He pointed to a grove of trees up a ways. “Let’s go there.”
She set her cleaning supplies by the bench and walked with him toward the trees. He stopped by the water pump.
“You must be thirsty after all your cleaning. Have some water.”
He reached out and worked the pump. Water gushed into the bucket below.
Alethea cupped her hands to catch the liquid, but her hair fell forward, getting in her way. Before she could figure out what to do, Zeke had stopped pumping. He ran his hands down the length of her hair, which meant touching her shoulders and back, before collecting it in one hand and pumping with the other.
It was an intimate act, she thought, a little flustered. She gulped water too quickly, then nearly choked. When she straightened, he released her hair, although she had a feeling they were standing much too close.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded.
He leaned in and lightly brushed her cheek. “You have a bit of dirt there.”
His touch was warm and gentle. She found herself leaning into him. His eyes were dark in color but bright with a light she couldn’t explain. Seeing it made her feel a little flustered.
“You enjoy thinking the worst of me,” he murmured.
“I don’t enjoy it,” she corrected. “I find it easy to believe. Because of your reputation.”
