Romancing the Schoolteacher by Mary Davis Page A

and Mrs. Halsted, Miss Thompson, Miss Priscilla, I’m very pleased to meet all of you.”
    Dora piped up. “I’m Dora.”
    Everyone laughed, and tension rushed out of Bridget.
    Mr. Halsted dipped his head toward her. “We are all pleased to meet you, Miss Greene. You may call me Emmett.”
    The young ladies had eager gazes. Their smiles pressed into thin, upturned lines, as though they wanted to speak but were forcibly keeping their mouths closed. One even appeared to be holding her smile between her teeth. But all three remained silent.
    Bridget wondered why. She dipped her head to the man. “Emmett, I’m honored. Please call me Bridget.”
    â€œI’m honored.”
    â€œWell, you must call me Winnie,” the sister who wore a burgundy calico dress said.
    â€œAnd me Edith.” In blue calico.
    â€œJust Cilla for me.” Yellow calico.
    â€œI couldn’t believe Lindley didn’t tell one person in the family about you.” Burgundy calico.
    â€œYou will have to give us all the details about yourself.” Blue calico.
    Bridget didn’t know which sister to focus on. They practically spoke on top of one another as though a dam had ruptured. And she daren’t try to squeeze in a word. There wasn’t room.
    â€œYou’re the schoolteacher.” Yellow.
    â€œDora and Gabe told us all about you.” Blue.
    â€œI was a schoolteacher until I married Emmett.” Burgundy.
    â€œHave you lived on the island long?” Blue.
    Bridget tried to nod, but the next question came too quickly and several more after that.
    Lindley held up his hands. “Not all at once.”
    His sisters apparently hadn’t heard him and kept talking.
    Emmett shrugged, his gaze on Lindley. “You tried.”
    Or maybe they were ignoring their brother? Had he told them ahead of time not to deluge her with questions?
    â€œYour dress is lovely,” one sister said.
    Dora patted Bridget’s dress.
    â€œThe color of your hair is lovely,” another said.
    Dora patted Bridget’s auburn hair.
    â€œEverything about you is lovely,” the third sister said.
    Dora squeezed Bridget around her neck. “I love her!”
    From his uncle’s arms, Gabe stretched out his hand and touched her shoulder. He apparently didn’t want to be left out but knew better than to try to talk while his aunts were engaged.
    Lindley tried again to quiet his sisters, to no avail. So he looped Bridget’s free arm through his and walked away with her.
    â€œLindley! What are you doing?” one of his sisters asked.
    â€œTaking Bridget away from you clucking hens.”
    Winnie scooted around in front of them and blocked their way. “No, you don’t.” She took Dora from Bridget and handed her to Lindley. Then she wrapped her arm around Bridget’s. At the same time, Edith hooked her arm through Bridget’s now free one. Cilla pressed in behind them, squeezing out the men and children.
    And that was how one disentangled a person from a situation. An expert move. Had they planned that?
    The sisters ushered her toward the door.
    Bridget glanced back at the men. Lindley stood slack-jawed, and Emmett smiled, shaking his head. Dora and Gabe waved.
    â€œYou are coming to dinner.”
    â€œWe have most of it prepared.”
    The ladies jostled around to all get out the door. Not one of them looked back to see if the men and children were coming.
    â€œWe made a pie and a cake and cookies last night.”
    â€œWe didn’t know what you preferred.”
    Bridget couldn’t keep up with who was saying what. “Dinner?”
    â€œYes. At Lindley’s.”
    â€œI hope you like chocolate.”
    â€œWe’ll have it ready in a trice.”
    â€œAnd peach.”
    â€œYou won’t have to do a thing.”
    â€œBut his place…” She couldn’t imagine how his small house could accommodate all these people. And