The Scoundrel

Oh, that would be lovely! Seduced by the very thought, Sarah let her imagination run unchecked. Visions of a fairy-tale wedding swirled in her head—a wedding between her and Daniel. Her imagination dressed her in her finest gown and Daniel in a fancy suit. Eli carried flowers. The whole of Morrow Creek gathered for a celebration fit to rival even her sister Molly’s grandiose marriage to Marcus Copeland last month.

She would serve spice cake from her sister’s bakery, Sarah determined, and memorize all her vows….

“Because I don’t have time to waste,” Daniel said, interrupting her reverie. “Eli needs a woman’s influence. Now.”

Her daydream popped like so many soapsuds. But perhaps there was still a way to salvage this situation.

“Are you sure there’s not more to it than that?” Sarah glanced downward. Her heart squeezed painfully at the sight of him. “Maybe there’s another reason you want a wife.”

Like love. Longing. An overly delayed realization that your ideal partner has been here all along, alphabetizing dusty tomes about literature and history.

He scoffed. She wanted to kick herself for voicing the question at all. Aggravated, Sarah shelved the next book. She often forgot herself around Daniel. They’d been friends for so long.

Her family always said that her tendency to ignore the obvious—usually in favor of some dreamy notions of her own—would get her in trouble someday. Dangling her lovelorn hopes in front of a confirmed bachelor like Daniel McCabe most definitely counted as trouble.

Well. She’d simply stop doing that, then. Easy as that.

“Steady my ladder, would you, please?” Sarah asked briskly, needing very much to move on. “I want to grab that next pile.”

Instead of doing as she’d asked, Daniel slid the stack of books from her desk himself. Effortlessly, he offered up the heavy volumes one by one. Then he absently steadied her ladder with both big hands on a lower rung. She felt its wooden frame wobble with the impact, then turn as solid as the earth beneath Eli’s kicking feet.

That was Daniel, Sarah reflected. He set her off balance without even knowing it…yet always remained nearby for her to rely upon.

Although she’d never have revealed as much to him, his presence was the aspect of her day she looked forward to most. Between planning lessons, grading schoolwork and traversing the path between her schoolhouse and the Crabtrees’ lively household, Daniel was always in her thoughts. Without him, her days would feel half as sunny…and twice as lonely.

An unwelcome thought occurred to her. What if he found a disagreeable wife? One who disapproved of their friendship?

Obviously, she could not leave such an important decision up to Daniel. Sarah decided to return to the reason for his newfound interest in matrimony—the wayward boy he’d found unexpectedly in his charge.

“About Eli,” she began. “I know you’ve had your share of troubles with him, but I’m not so certain he needs a woman’s influence. After all, you’re a capable man who—”

“Does my smithing fire need its pit to contain it?”

Oh, dear.

“I’ve decided,” Daniel said. “That’s that.”

No. That most definitely wasn’t “that.” It couldn’t be. If Daniel got himself a wife, he’d be lost to her forever. Desperately, Sarah cast about for another tactic.

“And you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“Do you also need a woman’s influence?”

His hearty laughter rang out. She’d have sworn it rocked the very ladder she stood upon. Sarah clutched its top rung, then ladled some starch in her voice.

“I expect that’s a no?”

“I influence women. Not the other way ’round.”

“That’s what you think,” she grumbled.

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘Not for the better, either.’”

“Pshaw. I’ve never dallied with a woman who wasn’t willing.”

Much to her chagrin, Sarah didn’t doubt it. Glancing down at Daniel with an attempt at impartiality—the way his potential bride might—she surveyed his brawny shoulders, rugged upturned face and devilish dark eyes. At one glance, she knew his words to be true. Women would be willing to dally with Daniel.

Although not as fancily turned out as some of the dandies who came through Morrow Creek, he was, to her eye, more perfectly formed than all of them. He had a special quality about him, too. A quality that promised laughter and protection in equal measure.

To her, he also promised strength. Kindness. Affection. He had since they’d trod this same schoolroom together years ago—she in short skirts, he in mended britches.

“Well. Not all women are so easily influenced,” she said.

“I’ve yet to find the one who isn’t.”

Instantly, a rebuttal jumped into her head. Sarah thought it best to leave her disagreement unspoken. After all, she could hardly count herself the exception to Daniel’s charm. The fact that he was oblivious to his effect on her was probably for the best. It helped preserve her pride, at least. For a woman born into a family as exceptional as hers, pride was nothing to be taken for granted.

Apparently, neither was her friendship with Daniel.

Sarah didn’t know what to do. She’d fancied him for so long, she’d half convinced herself he’d return her feelings eventually…once he’d finished sowing his wild oats, of course. But apparently Eli’s arrival had set something new in motion.

Outside, the boy’s movements caught her eye. He stomped in a pile of fallen oak leaves, scattering their rusty colors to the wind.

“It’s getting colder outside these days,” she said, welcoming the distraction from her troubling thoughts. “You should put a warmer coat on Eli.”

“He won’t give up that coat. He won it playing marbles.”

She chose not to pursue that. “And a hat. And a scarf. And some mittens, too.”

Silence. Then, “I’ll just get busy knitting all that.”

At his gruff jest, Sarah smiled. That was the Daniel she was used to. His teasing didn’t daunt her. In this, she knew she was right.

Of course, she was right in her opinions of his wife-hunting plans, too. If she had anything to say about his choice… Well. Naturally, she’d have a say. She only needed to regroup. He’d caught her by surprise. For now, Sarah determined, she’d finish working and handle this matter later.

That settled, she waggled her fingers in a no-nonsense way, gesturing for Daniel to hand up the last volume from her desk. As the book passed between their fingers, his regard fell upon her. A speculative expression crossed his face—almost as though he saw her for the first time. Which, given their long friendship, was hardly likely.

“You,” he said, “would make someone a fine wife.”

Or maybe it was.

Her heart pounded. She had to be hearing things. Her tendency to flights of fancy had finally gotten the better of her.

“I would make a fine wife?”