His Errant Educator (Willamette Wives Book 3) Read online

  Roger chuckled as memories of his own schooling played in his head. "Honey, nothing is perfect. You'll have children who want to learn, and those who would prefer being out in the fields than sitting behind any desk. How do you plan on keeping control of rowdy students?"

  "What do you mean? Children are supposed to be good in school."

  "Surely you saw a few misbehave when you attended school?"

  "Of course but I'm not going to worry about that. I'll just remind them to behave."

  Roger knew an opportunity when he saw one. "Let me play teacher for a moment, all right?" Before she could answer, he walked to the front and drew her down as he sat on the floor, pulling her onto his lap as he leaned against the wall. He looked down into her upturned face and smiled. "Are you ready for your lesson, little girl?"

  "Is it a fun lesson?" she asked with a smile. "I want to make school fun. We'll go on explorations outside to learn about plants, and we'll have plays where the children can dress up. Don't you think that would make learning history so much more exciting?"

  "I do," Roger conceded. "But in order to be able to make all those plans work, you are going to need to have your students' respect—"

  "I'm the teacher, of course I'll have their respect," she interrupted.

  "That's a nice sentiment, sweetheart, but not necessarily true. Respect isn't something that is just given. It is something that is earned. I'm afraid you'll have to demonstrate that you are quite serious about good behavior a few times before some of the children take you seriously."

  "I'm sure you are wrong. After all, while your cows might be stubborn, these are children. I'm sure their parents have taught them to be good."

  "Like your parents taught you?"

  "Exactly. Barbara and I both knew that if we misbehaved in school, we'd be in trouble when we got home. I swear, Pa knew we'd gotten into mischief before we could get through the door!"

  "And what would he do when you were naughty?" Roger asked.

  "Ma would lecture and Pa would span…" she stopped mid-sentence, her cheeks pinkening. "Roger, are you talking about school or…"

  "I'm Mr. Morrison, your teacher," he reminded her.

  "I don't think this is a fun lesson," she said, giving a dramatic sigh.

  "It might not be fun but it is important. I love your excitement, but you need to understand that it will be necessary for you to be a good role model. If you ignore safety or shrug off rules, then I'm afraid you'll have nothing but chaos." When she opened her mouth, he quickly continued. "Imagine that you've taken your class out into the woods. You are teaching about, oh, I don't know, some plant that has berries—"

  "That's a great idea," she interrupted again. "We can take some pails and pick them."

  Sighing, he shook his head. "Please just let me finish?" At her nod, he did so. "These aren't good berries… you tell your students that they are poisonous but since your students have seen you ignore the warnings of others, some kids pick them anyway, and eat them."

  "But I just told them they are poisonous!"

  "Tessa, that's what I'm trying to teach you. I asked you to wait and then yelled for you to stop, but you ignored me. You could have really hurt yourself if you'd fallen down those stairs and—"

  "But I didn't…"

  He moved a hand to press against her hip, giving her a small swat. "Teresa Goldman, I am not finished and have already asked you to stop interrupting. Do I need to turn you over my knee?"

  "You wouldn't!"

  "I assure you, I would. We've discussed this before—"

  "I'll stop interrupting," she said. "Go on." He wondered if she even realized she'd just interrupted him yet again. Deciding that he needed to finish his lesson, he continued.

  "All I'm saying is that if you want your students, their parents, and the committee to be glad you are the teacher, you will need to make sure that you have earned their respect. You have a big heart and no one can doubt your enthusiasm, but if you can't control your class, they won't learn anything and you won't be happy, either. Your pupils will emulate your behavior and if they see you treat others with respect, if they see you consider your actions before just running blindly into something, if they understand that when you won't allow them to do something it isn't because you don't want them to be happy or to have fun, but because you want them to be safe, then they will learn those lessons as well. Do you understand?"

  "I guess so. You're saying there are more lessons to learn than just reading, writing and arithmetic."

  "Exactly, and when a pupil continues to ignore his teacher or to treat my girl with disrespect, then you can teach him the folly of his ways with a tall stool in that corner." He pointed to the corner opposite where she'd said the stove would be.

  "Oh, Roger, I'm sure that won't be necessary."

  He chuckled and hugged her tighter. "If you have boys who are anything like I used to be, I promise you'll find it quite necessary."

  She giggled. "I can't imagine you sitting on a stool. You are always so… I don't know, so perfect."

  "I am by no means perfect," he said. "Believe me, I warmed many a stool, and then my pa warmed my backside when I got home." Her eyes widened and she giggled again. "It's true and, young lady, just remember that there are corners for naughty teachers as well." She gasped, her eyes sliding to the empty corner. Deciding that he'd lectured enough for one day, he helped her off his lap. Standing, her drew her up and into his arms, and bending his head, he kissed her lightly, then a bit harder when her arms twined around his neck. It took a great deal of will power to end the kiss and set her back a bit. "You are one beautiful teacher, Miss Goldman. Now, we'd better get back before your pa sends a posse after me."

  She giggled and took his arm.

  Once back at her home, they rejoined her family. After visiting for a while, Roger stood. "I'd better be heading out."

  "Oh, do you really have to go?" Teresa said, rising from the settee.

  "It's getting late." Seeing the disappointment on her face, he said, "How do you feel about ice…"

  "Roger!" she hissed, her eyes cutting to where her father had risen from his chair.

  Chuckling, he shook his head. "Ice skating," he clarified.

  "Oh, I love skating, why?"

  "Because I'd love to take you. Though I'm not very good, it's been fun the few times we've gone."

  "We?"

  "Yes, hold on, let me ask your pa."

  "Pa, Roger wants to ask you something," Teresa said.

  Benjamin's expectant look had Roger fighting back a grin. No, it was not yet time to ask that particular question. Instead, he said, "I'd like to take Teresa out to the ranch next Saturday. We've all been feeling a bit of cabin fever and are planning a snow day. Nothing fancy, just some skating, sledding, and supper. It will give Teresa a chance to see the ranch and spend some time with everyone who lives there."

  "That sounds lovely," Catherine said. "I'm sure it would be a lot of fun. Agatha loved skating when she was a little girl."

  "Are you sure you can get along without her help?" Benjamin asked. "It seems that you are doing more and more of the work…"

  "That's what you pay me for," Catherine said. "I don't mind, and it will give Teresa a chance to get out."

  "Barbara, what about you? Do you mind if your sister plays hooky for a day?" Roger asked.

  "Hmmm, I don't know. A whole day where I have to do all the dishes and serve more people?"

  "Please, Barb, I'll make it up to you."

  "I'm just teasing. Of course I don't mind."

  "Then that's settled," Benjamin said. "You may go, but make sure you listen to whatever Roger says. A ranch can be a dangerous place."

  "Pa, I'm going to be skating, not boxing with the cows."

  Roger chuckled. "It's called punching cattle but you are right. You won't be near the herd."

  "Oh, um, that's good," she said, her cheeks pinkening. "Oh, I'm so excited. I can't wait to go."

  She walked him downsta
irs, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Knowing her pa was at the top of the stairs, Roger only gave her a quick kiss. "Just so you know, I plan on stealing a lot more of those on Saturday."

  "I'll look forward to that."

  "Be my good girl and I'll see you on Saturday… early."

  "Do I need to bring anything? You said the other women…"

  "No, you'll be the guest of honor. Just bring your skates and that smile."

  "I will. Be careful going home."

  He promised he would, bent to give her a final kiss, and then stopped her when she attempted to step outside with him after he'd pulled on his coat.

  "No, stay inside," he said, placing his hat on his head.

  "But I want to watch until you are out of sight."

  "Tessa, it's dark and it's cold." When her mouth opened, he laid a fingertip over her lips. "Remember our talk about respect?" At her reluctant nod, he removed his finger. "If you catch cold you won't be able to come Saturday. And that, my love, would disappoint me greatly."

  "It would?"

  "Of course it would. I love you, and love spending time with you."

  "You love me?"

  Surprised at the question, he cupped her face in his palms and looked into her blue eyes. "More than life itself. You are my heart, Tessa Goldman."

  "Oh, Roger, I love you too!"

  "Then you have made me the happiest man on earth," he said, bending close. "But, if you aren't my good girl, you'll discover that I have ways of warming you up so that you might wish to actually sit on a slab of ice instead of skating over it."

  "Roger! You—you wouldn't. You weren't really serious about all that… that stuff?"

  "I assure you I can, and I am. Now, close the door behind me. I'll see you on Saturday."

  "I'll see you before then," she said, giving him a smile. "In my dreams." The words pulled on his heart and he couldn't resist pulling her close and kissing her yet again. This time it took the sound of her pa clearing his throat rather loudly for him to release her.

  "You're going to get us both into trouble," he whispered, giving her a little swat. She jumped but giggled as he slipped out the door. Mounting his horse, he had to adjust his cock in his pants. No doubt about it, he would be having a private conversation with Benjamin Goldman in the very near future.

  Chapter Two

  Wyatt looked over his shoulder and grinned. Agatha was lifting her knees high, attempting to place her feet in the depressions he'd made through the crust of the snow. Her breath was coming in puffs of white vapor, swirling in the air as they continued to climb higher. Right before he turned back around, he saw her stumble, going down onto her knees.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, bending to pluck her from the drift and swiping his hands over her skirts.

  "I'm fine but I don't think that's going to help," she said with a giggle, lifting her mittened hand to catch a snowflake as they began to fall again.

  "I suppose you're right. It seems I was wrong thinking the snows were over." He lifted his eyes to the sky. Though it was blue, he could see clouds moving in, undoubtedly bringing yet more snow. Who knew that such tiny, intricate flakes could accumulate into drifts that were capable of swallowing his little wife? "Maybe we should go back and join the others."

  "No, please! We're almost there, and I promise you are going to have more fun than even skating!"

  "Aggy, I'm already having fun just watching you." Wyatt chuckled. Forgetting the clumps of snow clinging to her clothing, he pulled her into his arms. "I'm just worried that it will be a tougher climb down."

  "No it won't," she countered. "With that, we're going to be flying!" She pointed to the item he'd been pulling along, the long rope hooked over his shoulder.

  He'd never heard of such a thing, having grown up in Texas, but when his little wife told him stories of how her father had made her a sled and then spent hours sliding down snow covered hills, her enthusiasm had captivated him. Still, with the wind picking up and the snow growing heavier, he was afraid they'd need to cut their expedition short. "Then let's get going, shall we?"

  Her nod showed her eagerness, and it wasn't another five minutes before they reached an area that was relatively clear of trees down its center. This was but one of the many foothills that delineated the beginning of the Cascade Mountains bordering the valley that was home to the Double R, or Rose Ranch as they preferred to call it.

  "It's so beautiful," Agatha said softly, and he had to agree. Below them, they could see their cabin, smoke curling from the chimney, promising them warmth upon their return. It was no longer just a cabin, it had become their home as they traversed the rocky start of their marriage. It had taken months for his wife to allow herself even the simplest pleasures. Seeing her rosy cheeks and her bright, sparkling eyes, rivaling that of the sun's beams that were turning the snow crystals into glittering diamonds, he thanked God that they'd managed to put the past behind them. Setting the sled down, he corrected his thoughts. Not the entire past… just that where Wally Timmons, aka Wallace Thompson, had attempted to destroy this young woman's very soul. Wyatt knew he'd spend the rest of his days making sure she knew she was respected, protected, and most of all, loved.

  "Are you sure you want to do this? It looks like a long way down," he asked dubiously as he glanced at the slope again. The pristine blanket of white was bracketed by towering pines, their boughs heavy with snow.

  "It's not that far. I can see the others out on the pond." She pointed at the figures that looked very small moving across the ice. "Don't tell me that my big, strong husband is like those birds squawking in the barn," she teased, tossing her hair over her shoulder and shaking her head. "And I'm not talking about Mr. Rooster."

  "Just know that if we run into one of those trees, little girl, your husband could well lose his ability to crow." He paused and bent to place his hand around her throat, his finger running along her chin, the pad of his thumb on the pulse of her heartbeat. Tilting her head back until he could look into her eyes, he said, "And we both know that my little bride does love to hear me crow, don't we?"

  He watched the pink of her cheeks turn darker and could feel the movement in her throat as she swallowed hard. His cock twitched in his trousers, and he was the one to gasp when he felt her hand pressing against the quickly stiffening shaft.

  "Then, my dear husband, I suggest you don't let us crash."

  Laughing at her sassiness, which he'd come to adore, he kissed her and then caused her to squeal with his hand popping against her bottom. Even he knew that there was absolutely no way she'd felt the swat though the layers of clothing she wore, but it was the thought that counted. "I'll show you some crowing as soon as I get us to the bottom. Ready?"

  "Yes!" she said, jumping up and down.

  After pulling up the hood of her cloak and tucking her hair inside, he helped her to sit on the sled, her legs crossed, her skirts tucked beneath her hips. Taking his seat behind her, he wrapped his legs around her small frame. He chuckled, thinking that this was one of his favorite positions, although usually the water they'd be surrounded by would be hot and not frozen. And, of course, they'd both be entirely naked in the tub. With that picture blooming in his mind, he adjusted the rope in his hands and bent down to kiss the side of her neck. It took a few shoves of their hands, Agatha giggling the entire time, before gravity took over. It was only a matter of moments before she was screeching with joy and he was attempting not to kill them both as they flew down the slope. He'd just thought he'd gotten the hang of it when a tug on the rope turned the sled just a bit and they hit a bump. His wife went flying.

  "Aggy," he bellowed, unable to stop for several feet until he dropped his legs off the sides, digging his heels into the snow. The sled tilted, throwing him off. Sputtering as he attempted to clear the snow from his mouth after his face plant, he pushed himself to his feet and was attempting to locate his wife when he heard her laughing. Walking at a slant back up the slope, he found her, half-buried in a snow bank,
her face alight with joy.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, his heart thumping hard in his chest. "Can you move everything?"

  "I'm perfect! That was so much fun!" As she began to move her arms and legs, he watched, dumbfounded.

  "I don't think trying to swim is going to get you out of there."

  When she laughed louder and shook her head, stating she wasn't swimming, he said, "Then what on earth are you doing?"

  "I'm making a snow angel, of course." Lifting her hands, she said, "Pull me up as straight as you can."

  "You, young lady, are nuts," he said, reaching for her and pulling her to her feet in one smooth movement.

  Agatha threw her arms around his waist and tilted her head back. "Look!" She pointed at the impression and he had to grin. It did appear as if an angel had landed. Agatha's sweeping arms had made wings in the snow, her legs forming an ethereal robe of sorts. She giggled and pulled his hand. "Besides, husband of mine, don't you know that play keeps people forever young?"

  "I can think of a lot better and safer ways to play," he said, bending to touch his forehead to hers.

  "Hmm, then perhaps you should get me home so we can play your game," she suggested, standing on her tip toes to brush her cold lips across his.

  Not needing further invitation, he helped her down the slope until they were once again seated on the sled. By the time they reached the bottom, he was whooping just as loudly as she. It wasn't until they were hurtling towards the creek and he heard voices raised in alarm that he realized they were in danger of sliding out onto the ice. Unable to stop, he tightened his grip and rolled off with her secure in his arms, allowing the sled to continue without them.

  They rolled a few times until coming to a stop, Agatha beneath him.

  "Wow, I always wondered what that would be like. I knew it would be fun but that was incredible!"