9781631054617HeLovesMeCole Page 8

“You can’t leave without speaking with my father,” he reminded her. “He’s in his study. While you’re talking to him, I’ll summon our driver and instruct him to take you back to school.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Truly grateful for the offer, Emily gave the young man a genuine smile.

  As soon as she reached the door of the study, she wiped the smile from her face. Indignant at being summoned to the judge’s chambers, Emily flounced into the room, thought about telling the fat, priggish fellow what she truly thought of him, then stopped, remembered her father’s admonitions about treating others with respect. She did nothing more than nod in the man’s direction.

  Always show respect to others, even if they don’t deserve it. That’s what her father preached, and for the most part, that’s how he lived his life.

  Don’t allow others to dictate your behavior. That’s how Pa expressed it.

  Looking over that sage advice now, Emily realized it could be taken to mean a lot of different things, and maybe she was still doing it, still allowing other people—people like Judge Morse, people like her own father, people like Miss Helen Brundage—to tell her how she should behave, and what she was supposed to think.

  No more. She was a grown woman now, at least in certain respects, and she had the right to make her own choices. She did not intend to break any laws, to commit any crimes, or even to engage in any sinful behaviors. All the same, she knew she would make her share of mistakes, but wasn’t that part of the learning process? Wasn’t that part of life itself?

  At the moment, her biggest mistake had been coming to call on Willie. Now, his father was about to deliver a stern lecture on impropriety. She didn’t have time enough to hear him out.

  “Sir, I know what you’re about to say, and I assure you—”

  “Have a seat, Miss Phillips.” As usual, the judge wasn’t listening. He never listened to anyone but himself.

  She tried again. “I never meant—”

  “Are you still seeing that Brooks fellow? What is his name? Benjamin, isn’t it?”

  Emily blinked, taken aback by the question. Instead of impropriety, was the judge set to deliver a lecture on faithfulness?

  He rapped his knuckles against the desk top, summoning her full attention. “He’s working for Tom Henderson, I hear. Has he mentioned anything about finding gold out there on the Henderson place?”

  Again, the question drew her up short. “Wait a minute,” she said as realization dawned. “You’re talking about Joe Love’s treasure. Why would Ben know anything about that?”

  “He hasn’t said anything?”

  “No, nothing at all.” Even as she spoke the words, her brain took off on wild tangents, following crooked pathways to various possibilities, all of which were either improbable or foolishly ridiculous. What indeed would Ben know about Joe Love’s treasure hoard?

  Morse sat quietly on the other side of the desk. It occurred to Emily that she’d never known the man to allow so much time to pass in silence. He liked to hear himself yap. The unusual quiet set off alarms inside her head.

  “Judge Morse? Why are you asking me about this? Ben’s done nothing wrong, has he? He’s not involved in any trouble, I hope.”

  “No trouble at all, so far as I know. I’ve heard rumors.” A strange reticence came into his speech. “Idle talk, I suppose.”

  “About Joe Love’s treasure?” Curious now, she leaned forward. “What would happen if someone did find it? Would they be allowed to keep it? Or wouldn’t that be another crime? I mean, it’s ill-gotten gain, right? Love stole it. Whoever finds it is legally obligated to return it to the rightful owner, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, exactly.” He seemed somehow relieved. “This is why I inquired, Miss Phillips. I would hate to see a fine fellow like Ben Brooks get himself into trouble by digging up some outlaw’s loot and thinking he could keep it for himself.” The man’s laughter had a peculiar note.

  Emily knew he wasn’t being completely honest. Like so many other men, he knew how to hedge his words, how to say only enough to lead a listener away from the real truth. And since when had the esteemed judge thought of Benjamin as a fine fellow?

  All the same, she was clever enough to know what was expected of her. With a smile every bit as peculiar as the judge’s laughter, she rose. “Rest assured, sir, I’ll share your thoughts with Ben. So far as I know, he’s got no intentions of digging up anyone’s gold, and even if he wanted to, nobody’s got a clue where Joe Love hid his treasure. I will make sure he knows it belongs to the mining company.”

  “Nothing wrong with digging it up, Miss Phillips,” he informed her, heaving his heavy bulk from his chair. “It would be a good thing, actually, if some enterprising young fellow figured out where it was and brought it out of the ground. It could be returned, and that would be the end of the legend of Joe Love. I get mighty tired of hearing that same old story, you know.”

  “I’ll pass that thought on.” Still smiling, Emily allowed the man to escort her to the door. “It’s been nice chatting with you today, Judge Morse.” Yes, indeed, it had been nice, or if not nice, at least interesting. Just what was Ben really up to?

  Later, she would give it a bit of thought. Right now, she didn’t have enough time.

  “Judge Morse? Willie offered to have someone drive me back to school. Would that be possible?” Worried at the lateness of the hour, she gnawed at her lower lip. “I should have left much sooner.”

  “My fault entirely,” he said. “I’ll summon Frederick, our driver. He’ll pick you up in front of the house.” The judge extended a thick, sweaty hand. Emily did her best to hide her revulsion as she grasped hold of it.

  “Thank you.” She pulled her hand away, reached behind her back, and discreetly wiped it off.

  Fortunately Judge Morse didn’t notice. “Give my regards to your father and mother.”

  “Yes, sir, I will.”

  Nearly an hour passed before Frederick deposited her at Miss Brundage’s Female Academy. He came around, opened the carriage door, and held out a hand to assist her. Growing more frantic as each moment passed, Emily dug a few coins from her pocketbook, then thrust them at the man. She didn’t need his help getting down.

  With her feet solidly on the ground again, she glanced with trepidation at the school. Truly she’d expected the headmistress to be waiting at the door, ready to chastise her for her gross infraction of the rules. Instead, the windows were all dark. Quiet reigned.

  “Thank you,” she said in a low voice. “Please tell Judge Morse I arrived safely.” Whereas moments before, she’d been on the verge of panic, Emily now felt confident and calm. Gathering her cloak about herself, she walked quickly to the entrance, thankful that all had ended well.

  The door creaked as she opened it. With quiet steps, she slipped inside.

  “It’s about time, young lady.”

  Startled by the voice and horrified at being caught, Emily drew back. She turned as if to bolt through the doorway and run out into the night once again, but common sense stopped her. Her mind raced through dozens of possible excuses, but what would be the point in lying? Miss Brundage had her dead to rights.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Follow me, Miss Phillips.” Helen Brundage squared her shoulders, drew herself up to her full, magnificent height, and marched through the narrow corridor. When she reached the French doors that divided the entry from the school itself, she pushed them open with a great fanfare, then stepped aside and gestured for Emily to join her. She turned her gaze to the right. “My office, Miss Phillips. Now.”

  Emily sucked in a breath and nodded. Somehow, she managed to hold her head high, unsure whether doing so would please the unpleasant woman by suggesting she had indeed listened to a few of those long-winded lectures about the need for fortitude and stoicism in the face of difficulty, or if, more likely, Miss Brundage would find fault with it. The disagreeable headmistress most likely expected an act of contrition and a show of sorrow.

/>   She would be disappointed. Emily was in no mood for remorse.

  All the while she silently wondered precisely how Miss Brundage had learned of her misdeeds. Had Hattie Mae tattled on her? Emily made a mental note to find a suitable way to even the score with Miss Richards.

  Moments later, seated in a stiff-backed oak chair, her hands folded politely in her lap, Emily had the good grace to lower her gaze—if only to keep from laughing. Miss Brundage had lit a lamp, and the sight of her dressed in her long flannel gown with a matching strip of cloth wrapped around her head for a night cap would have provoked mirth in even the most serious-minded.

  The woman cleared her throat, signaling for attention. “Look at me when I speak to you, Miss Phillips.”

  Emily bit hard on her bottom lip and slowly raised her chin. “Miss Brundage, I’m terribly sorry about what happened tonight. Something urgent came up—”

  “You know the rules. You know, too, that I will not tolerate even the slightest infraction.” Her gaze bore into Emily. “I have keen intuition, Miss Phillips. I suspected something was amiss tonight and felt it wise to do a room check. I was not surprised to find you gone.” She folded her hands and glared across the desk. “In the short time you’ve been here, you’ve already made it clear that you don’t care to listen. You’re a rebel, Miss Phillips, and that’s an intolerable trait for a young woman, especially one who aspires to teach children. You must always set an example for them.”

  “But—” She fell silent again as Miss Brundage raised a hand. As she’d known all along, no excuse would be acceptable.

  “Had there been any legitimate reason for you to leave the school and venture out this evening,” she continued, pausing to draw in a long, deep breath, “the protocol would have been to inform me. Had you come to me and explained the nature of this urgent situation,”—she placed heavy emphasis on the word—“I might have been able to assist in some manner.” She took in another breath. Her thin chest rose and fell with the effort. “As it stands, I have little reason to believe your claims of an urgent matter.” Again, she stressed the word. When she paused once more, Emily figured she was supposed to say something.

  “Yes, ma’am.” She stared down at her hands.

  “You must understand, Miss Phillips, the serious nature of your behavior tonight. As a student at my academy, you are honor-bound to respect the virtues of your womanhood. No decent girl would ever venture out at such an ungodly hour. It’s a wonder you weren’t kidnapped, stolen away, and taken advantage of by some unscrupulous lout. Men search the streets at night, young lady, in search of wayward girls and women of loose morals.” A violent shudder shook her bony frame. “Not only did you place yourself in grave danger, but you showed no regard whatsoever for me, for my academy, and for the high moral standards I embrace.”

  How much longer would this lecture continue?

  “Miss Brundage,” Emily said, looking up again. “I am truly sorry for my misbehavior, and I assure you it won’t happen again. I’ve learned my lesson. Now, if you have no objection, I would like to go back to my room. It is late, and tomorrow is Sunday. I know how important it is that we be on time for our Bible study.” She leaned forward, about to get to her feet.

  A heavy hand smacked the surface of the desktop. “You are to remain seated, Miss Phillips, until I give you permission to rise.”

  Wordlessly, Emily sank back into the wooden chair, squirming to find a comfortable position.

  Helen Brundage’s expression softened somewhat. A sorrowful look clouded her rheumy eyes, and she placed a hand to her night-capped head, almost as if she were experiencing great pain.

  “I am so sorry to have failed you, Miss Phillips. I try my best, and it hurts me greatly when I’m not able to reach a young girl, when I’m not able to impart wisdom to her.” She sighed, but instead of leaning back, she stiffened. Bending forward, she clasped her hands on the desktop. “I know you think me an awful old shrew. I’m not. I’m a woman who cares very much about girls like you. I want only the best for you.”

  “I know. And I have learned a lot from you.” Sensing a turn in the tide of the woman’s fury, Emily grasped for a chance to set things to right again. “Your lectures have left an indelible impression upon me.”

  “I’m afraid not, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone out gallivanting about. I can easily surmise what you were up to.” Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “I try so hard to instill virtues and morality, Miss Phillips. I try so hard to help my students understand the serious consequences of improper behavior.” She pulled open a drawer and drew out a folded handkerchief. Giving it a quick shake, she dabbed it to her eyes. “You do understand, I hope, why I have no choice but to dismiss you?”

  “Dismiss?” Emily’s breath caught. “Are you saying I can get up now? I can go back to my room?”

  “Please, Miss Phillips, don’t make light of the situation. This is a serious matter, indeed.”

  “When you said you were dismissing me…”

  “It’s a polite way of saying that you’re no longer a student at my academy. You’re no longer welcome on the premises.” Miss Brundage rose slowly. Her back remained rigid, her features stayed pinched and puckered. “You are to be gone from the academy within twelve hours, otherwise I will have you forcibly removed.” She plucked a pocket watch from deep within the folds of her heavy flannel gown, flipped open the lid, and nodded. “Be out by nine a.m., Miss Phillips.” She shuffled toward the door without a second look.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Stunned, Emily remained seated. She stayed rooted to the chair for a long time after Miss Brundage had exited the room. It was only when she heard the hall clock chime that the reality of her situation soaked into her tired brain.

  Out by nine? Emily flew from the chair. She rushed down the corridor, took the steps two at a time, then bolted through the door of the room she and Hattie shared. She threw off her cloak and bonnet.

  “Emily? What’s going on? What happened? Did you see Willie?” Hattie Mae gathered the bedcovers around her, as if she were afraid. “We had a room check tonight. Miss Brundage—”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve already seen her. She’s expelled me.”

  With no time to waste, Emily quickly lit a lamp and hurried to the wardrobe. As she bustled about, pulling clothes out and tossing them onto her bed, she felt Hattie’s gaze upon her.

  “She threw you out?” the dark-haired girl asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to sit on the edge. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You know she’s a stickler for rules.”

  “Yes, well, I’d love to chat about it, but there’s no time.” She grabbed a valise, opened the latches, and threw back the lid. Stuffing her garments inside, she glanced over her shoulder. “Actually, I’m glad. I hate this place. I hate Helen Brundage, and I hope I never become like her.”

  Hattie’s soft laughter brought a momentary lightness to Emily’s troubled heart.

  “There’s little chance of that happening,” Hattiee said. “But what are you going to do now?” She rose from her bed and crossed the room. “What will you tell your parents?”

  Emily shrugged. “Nothing. At least, not yet.” She pulled out a second valise, crammed more skirts into it, and pushed hard to close the latches. With that done, she sank onto the bed. “I thought I wanted to be a teacher, Hattie. I thought it would be such a noble profession.” Emily sniffed back tears. “For so long, I thought that’s what I was called to do. But it’s not. I know that now. All I really want is to be a wife, to be a mother. I’m not sure that will ever happen.”

  “Things will work out, Emily.” Hattie sat beside her and placed a hand on her arm.

  “I’m supposed to be out by morning.” She looked around the room, grateful now for the rules against bringing too many frivolous personal possessions. Less to pack. Less to lug back home. “Things always happen at the right time. I believe that. Maybe this is the answer I was searching for, Hattie. You know how unhappy I’ve been, how much I�
�ve wanted to go home.”

  “Did you plan this?” Hattie’s brows knitted together into a frown. “Is that why you insisted on breaking the rules?”

  “I never once thought Miss Brundage would expel me.” She bit her lip, wondering all the same if maybe some part of her had deliberately put her future at the school in jeopardy. “When I get home, I’ll explain that Miss Brundage gave me a little extra time off for the holidays.”

  “That’s a lie!”

  “Not really. She did give me time off.”

  Hattie huffed out a breath, clearly exasperated. “I hope it all goes well for you, Emily. With Benjamin, I mean.”

  “He’ll come around.” She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

  “What about Willie? You saw him, right? Is he going to take you to the dance?”

  She nodded. “It will all work out. I’m sure of it.”

  * * * *

  Early the next morning she rented a wagon. The long drive from Denver to Sunset provided ample opportunity for her to rehearse her speech—the one she planned to give to her parents when she showed up unexpectedly at their doorstep.

  Upon reaching the little town, she went first to the livery to drop off the rental wagon, then paid a small fee to have her bags stored temporarily. Too many questions would be asked if she arrived home with all her belongings.

  “It will probably be no more than a few days,” she told the clerk, tucking a claim ticket inside her pocketbook. Carrying only one small traveling bag with her, she walked through town, grateful for the brightly shining sun that warmed the December day.

  When she arrived home, she hugged her mother and kissed her father’s cheek. He looked paler now than he had only a few weeks earlier. Despite his cantankerous ways, her father had played an important role in her life. It hurt to know their time together would not last forever.

  Nothing lasts forever.

  Pushing aside painful reminders of reality, she spun into her well-practiced dialogue, explaining that she’d finished her exams early—true, in a sense, since she was never allowed to complete them—how she’d met with Miss Brundage—a totally true statement of fact—and how the strict headmistress had graciously allowed her to leave the school before the official start of the winter holiday. So, maybe the last part was pushing the limits a bit and might easily qualify as an outright lie. Emily blushed as she spoke the words and hoped her mother and father would simply take it as a sign of happiness and excitement.