Page 24 of If the Boot Fits

Biting back a groan, Asher pushed to his feet and walked into the kitchen. He kept his eyes averted from the tutoring session happening at the table and slid his empty bowl into the basin of dishwater Mama Bess had left in the sink.

“I don’t see why I have to learn this stuff,” Jack grumbled. “I know my numbers good enough to get by. I’m never gonna use . . . What did you call it?”

“Algebra.”

Even without looking at her, Asher could hear the smile in her voice. The woman had a way with kids, it seemed. Patient. Good-humored. Skilled in the art of bribery. Probably came with having a younger brother.

“Yeah, well, I’m never gonna use algebra in real life, so why don’t we just skip this part?”

“You might be surprised how handy algebra can be,” she countered.

Asher dallied, interested to see how she handled the situation. Jack was a good kid, but he could be ornery when he set his mind to it. Unable to think of another way to busy himself in the kitchen, Asher dunked his hands into the dishwater, dug around for the washrag, and set about cleaning his bowl in the slowest manner possible.

“Let’s say your boss at the livery asked you to take two horses to the farrier to get new horseshoes,” Miss Dearing proposed. “He gives you three dollars. You get to the farrier, and his sign says that he charges sixty cents per shoe. Do you have enough money?”

Asher peeked over his shoulder to find Jack’s face scrunched as his fingers ticked off imaginary cost.

Miss Dearing placed a hand over Jack’s. “No counting.”

Jack groaned. “This is stupid. The farrier can just send Mr. Cooper a bill.”

“Here.” She scooted the slate in front of her and picked up a spare slate pencil. “Let me show you how easy it can be to figure. We’ll use an x to represent how many horseshoes we can get for three dollars. How much do they cost again?”

“Sixty cents.” Jack’s tone echoed with impatience, but Asher detected a touch of interest as well.

The slate pencil scraped against the small board. “All right. So point six times x equals three dollars. Our first step is what?”

“Get x by itself.”

“Good!” she praised. “So we divide each side by point six . . . move the decimal . . . how many times does six go into thirty?”

“Five?”

“Correct. So you can pay for five horseshoes. Is that enough for two horses?”

“Not if all four shoes need replacin’ on each horse.”

“Precisely. Now, if Mr. Cooper gives you five dollars instead of three for the same job and says you can spend the change on penny candy at the general store, how many pieces of candy will you be able to buy?”

“Sixty times eight is four eighty.” Jack stared at the ceiling as the wheel in his brain turned. “Take that from five hundred . . . Twenty! Twenty pieces of penny candy. That would last Fergus and me for at least a week. Well, only if I hide it and give my brother one piece a day. He’d eat it all at once if I let him.”

Asher grinned as he pulled his now-spotless bowl and spoon out of the water and rubbed them dry with a towel.

Miss Dearing clapped her hands and exclaimed over Jack’s success. The woman might not know much about how farriers worked, but she understood algebra and little boys. Did that understanding stretch to men as well? A beautiful nemesis with political connections was bad enough. Add clever to the mix, and his odds of escaping unscathed shrank dramatically.

Turning to face the pair at the table, Asher cleared his throat and waited for faces to lift and eyes to shift in his direction. “Sun’s settin’. Time to wrap things up.”

His voice emerged gruffer than he’d intended, but he hadn’t been prepared for the impact of those smiling blue eyes. How could he have forgotten the way they sparkled? They shone even brighter now with the added glow of pride over her student’s accomplishment.

“Thank you, Mr. Ellis.” A touch of pink colored her cheeks, making her even prettier. Which was completely unfair. Enemies were supposed to be foul, disagreeable people who turned a man’s gut sour when forced to interact. Samantha Dearing had an odd effect on his gut, all right, but sour was not the word he’d use to describe it.

Best he minimized his exposure before he actually started liking the woman who held the power to destroy his life. “I’ll saddle my horse and meet you out front.”

She nodded. “I’ll be ready.” She turned her attention back to Jack and began listing off assignments for him to work on before their next tutoring session.

Asher tromped out the back door, irritated at his reaction. He should not be attracted to the daughter of the man who tossed his mother and brothers out on their ears. As he fetched his saddle and tack from the cowshed, he tried to recall the pampered princess who’d been throwing a tantrum when he’d first encountered her. Spoiled. Demanding. Threatening his personal safety. But even that didn’t help. She’d been arguing with Eli Dearing, which brought the whole enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend thing into play. And then there was the fact that she was fighting against being married off to one of her daddy’s rich cattlemen friends, which he actually found rather commendable. And blaming her for threatening his personal safety was hypocritical at best, since he’d been the one committing a crime at the time, not her.

He heaved the saddle off his shoulder and onto the fence railing with a grunt that had more to do with frustration than effort. Bruno trotted over and nudged Asher’s shoulder with his nose. Asher patted the paint’s neck.