Montana Rose by Deann Smallwood Page B

been in the back of his mind after all, because when he saw the white building with its bell steeple, he pulled the wagon to a quick stop. The fact that he’d been thinking about Rose Bush since Tory had come home excited that he could read certainly had nothing to do with it. He was just grateful to her for seeing in Tory what no one else had recognized. Shame flooded him. Not even he had looked that deep past the angry boy to see his love and thirst for knowledge. And botany would have never entered his mind. He owed Teacher Bush his thanks.
    That was why he was here . To thank her. No other reason. It wasn’t worth a second thought the fact that she looked especially pretty with the sun shining through the window, spinning her blonde curls to gold. He wasn’t at all aware of her captivating eyes, blue as a summer sky, dominating her delicate face.
    “Please have a seat, Mr. Rivers.”
    Rose’s discomfort was obvious. Why was she so ill at ease? Was she concerned that Wisteria would be upset finding him in her kitchen? No, she was glancing behind him as though expecting an avenging angel to appear.
    Uneasy, Jesse turned to see if someone had come in behind him. “Expecting someone besides your sister?” The fact that she might be looking so darned fetching for a suitor sent shards of jealousy through him. Shards as sharp as broken glass. Why should he care? Of course a single woman as beautiful as Rose Bush wouldn’t stay unmarried for long in an area where women were a premium.
    “No. No, just — ”
    “Just what?” He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice.
    “It’s just that the school board is watching me so closely.”
    “Why?”
    Rose gave a sigh of resignation. “It doesn’t matter, Mr. Rivers. That’s my problem.”
    “Then why do I sense it’s mine, too?”
    “I’m sorry, but it’s not you. It’s me. You see, I violated one of the rules of conduct.”
    Jesse couldn’t keep the grin from spreading across his face. “What’d you do, Teacher Bush, not ring the bell loud enough?”
    “It’s not a laughing matter, Mr. Rivers. I am inches away from being dismissed. And they’d like nothing more than to discover I’m entertaining another Rivers . . .” She clasped her hand to her mouth. “I - I didn’t mean , I shouldn’t have . . .”
    “Sounds like you should have,” he said harshly. “What did you mean by ‘another Rivers?’”
    “Nothing,” Rose whispered. “Nothing at all.”
    “Oh, I think it is.” He leaned back on his heels as his hand shot out and circled her arm. “Spill the beans, Teacher.”
    “Let go of me.” She rubbed her arm when he quickly dropped it.
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you. Tell you what, let’s both take a seat and you tell me why those righteous old biddies have it out for you.”
    “It’s not just the two women, its Mr. Whimpstutter, too.”
    Jesse threw back his head and laughed, his teeth white in his tanned face. The sound filled the room, bringing with it a sense of comfort.
    A fragile smile creased Rose’s lips. Jesse Rivers would be a force to reckon with. With him in her kitchen, larger than life, she felt safe. For the first time since she’d left Wyoming, she felt as if she had someone to turn to for protection. That it was this man, a man who gave every impression of disliking her, was something to ponder later. But for now, he filled and dominated the room, owning it with his broad shoulders, the brown flecks in his penetrating eyes, and his air of supreme confidence. Reluctantly, she took a chair opposite him as a sense of calm and ease entered her.
    “Whimpstutter,” Jesse said, “lives up to his name. He’s a wimp, a bully that uses his position to strut about town like he’s damned important. Men like him don’t deserve . . .” His words dwindled off as understanding broke through. “Tory. It’s you tutoring Tory that’s the problem, isn’t it?”
    Rose slowly nodded. “Yes.” She dragged out the