Page 47 of The Madam & Mr. MacLean

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“That’s not exactly true,” Wyatt defended himself, though honestly, they were both right. He had been talking about her, but only in the most glowing terms because he enjoyed her company. There was something about Sheridan DuBois that drew him, and he couldn’t deny it. Wouldn’t deny it. “Get back to work,” he ordered, but there was no anger in the order, just a touch of laughter.

“Nice to meet you both.” Sheridan smiled as they tipped their hats to her and rode off. “They seem like good men.”

“They are. They’ve been with me since I bought this place. Used to work for the previous owner. It was a condition of the sale that they be allowed to stay, if they wanted to, but it worked out well. They know exactly what they’re doing and, truthfully, I couldn’t ask for better friends or workers.” He studied her, noticing the gentle smile spreading her lips and the sparkle in her eyes. It seemed like she was enjoying herself. “Shall we continue? There’s a lot more to see.”

“Yes.”

He nudged Brigadier, once again setting a slow steady pace to make sure she didn’t overdo. They didn’t speak—there was no need for words—but he could tell she was impressed by everything she saw. Eventually, he brought her to a swiftly running stream that cut through the pasture, where new springtime grass was poking up through the ground, covering the rolling hills in a carpet of green. The trees lining the creek on both sides were budding as well. Cattle lowed in the near distance.

“This is beautiful, Wyatt.”

He looked around, trying to see everything through her eyes. And it was beautiful. He just hadn’t noticed before. He’d been too busy working to make the ranch successful. “Yes, it is beautiful, but running a ranch is a lot of hard work. There are so many things that need to be done, day in and day out. I’ve come to the conclusion that you must love what you do. Otherwise, it just becomes a chore—something you must do as opposed to something you want to do.”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

“I do. Now. In the beginning, I wasn’t so sure. I thought it was a mistake, but lately, I’ve changed my mind. In the spring, when everything is starting to bloom, like now, and all the calves are born, there’s nothing more satisfying.” He turned to look at her, then slid from his saddle and wrapped Brigadier’s reins around a low-hanging branch. He reached up to help her down, then tied Goldie’s reins to the same branch. He slipped her hand into his and started walking alongside the stream. “I would think it’s a lot like teaching and shaping young minds.”

Sheridan fell into step beside him, matching his stride, as if it wasn’t unusual to be walking hand in hand with him. As if they’d done this before. “I suppose it is.”

“Do you miss your students?”

“Some of them. Others, not as much. There can be a lot of competition between the girls.”

“Such as?”

She laughed softly. “Whose father has more money? Who’s prettier? Who’s more talented? The comparisons are endless. The girls who attended the school, while being educated in arithmetic and history, were also being groomed to make good marriages for highly prominent men. There was competition for that as well.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“I’m not sure of that anymore. The longer I’m here, the more I’m learning about my mother. She wasn’t at all what my grandmother and Aunt Estelle said she was.” She stopped beside a tree and fingered the bark. “They lied to me, Wyatt.”

“Lied?”

“They told me she died giving birth to me, but that wasn’t the truth at all. Grand-mère forced her out of the house and disowned her. I’ve read her story in her letters.”

“She sent you letters?”

She shook her head and leaned against the tree. “She wrote them but never sent them. She saved them instead. I’m not sure why. Perhaps, she knew one day I’d be able to read them and come to know her.” She drew in her breath. Sadness radiated from her, making her smile disappear. “I missed everything with her because of my family. I’m not sure I can forgive them. I’m not sure I want to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.” She moved away from the tree and wandered closer to the water, that air of melancholy surrounding her. “From everything I’ve learned from the people I’ve talked to and from her letters, Josie was a wonderful woman.”

He felt for her. He really did. Yes, he’d lost his father when he was still quite young, but he’d had Delilah, who, like Josie, waskind and considerate and loving. In his opinion, the best mother anyone could ever have. He couldn’t imagine not knowing her, like Sheridan hadn’t known Josie. And being lied to about who she really was and what happened to her seemed even worse. “I only knew Josie casually, enough to say hello, but yes, she was. Very much like you, I think.”

“Oh no, I think you’re mistaken. I’m not like her. She was outgoing and friendly, whereas I…find it difficult to make friends. I’m used to being by myself.” She gave him a sad smile. “A wallflower, I think I’m called. And a spinster. Afraid of my own shadow sometimes, and too self-conscious to ever make a scene and draw attention to myself.”

Funny that she would admit all of that. Most women wouldn’t, but Sheridan DuBois wasn’t like most women. “But that’s changing, isn’t it? I saw the way you stood up to Mrs. Graves.”

She bent low to scoop a handful of water from the stream. “That’s different,” she said over her shoulder before she straightened and shook off the water droplets from her hand. “She was being unkind to Barrie, who is one of the sweetest young women I’ve ever known. I don’t like bullies, Wyatt, but you’re right. I am changing and I can’t say that I don’t like what I’m seeing in the mirror. And I’m loving this little town. Serenity is nothing like what I’m accustomed to. The people here, without meaning to, are teaching me what it’s like to be open and friendly.” She laughed softly. “I’m liking that, too.”

“I’m glad.” He didn’t say that she was already a warm and loving person, nor did he say that she just needed to let it show. He understood why she was like she was…almost frightened by her own emotions. Was it because she’d never been allowed to show those emotions? Because she was afraid? Or was it for some other reason?

He watched her walk along the stream for a few moments more before he pulled a gold pocket watch from his pocket. “Dinner should be ready shortly. Mama wouldn’t like it if we’re late.”

“No, it would be rude to be late.”

He reached out to take her hand as they strolled back to the horses.