The Stranger and the Schoolmarm

"Whoa there, miss." The voice was deep and husky, but at ease. He had me about the waist like I was a toddler. He set me down on the porch, but kept his right hand on my waist. Not even one apple had spilled from my basket. He had saved me from a sure fall.

"Thank you, sir," I exclaimed. I straightened my skirt and then noticed his hand was still on me. Was he getting fresh or was he concerned that I was dizzy and might fall? I don't know the answer, but I do know that I was not used to a gentleman touching me so forwardly. His touch was sending a wave of warmth through me all the same.

"Sir, you can unhand me now," I demanded.

"Oh, what? Right. Apologies Mrs...?"

"It's Miss. Miss Spellman." I looked up saw he had dark hair and dark eyes. He looked simultaneously dangerous and chivalrous. He was tall. Much taller than most men and had wide shoulders. And he certainly was strong as he had just proven.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Spellman. I'm George. George Turner. I just got into town yesterday."

This must the person the chattering ladies in the grocery were talking about. He certainly was handsome, but why should I care?

"Well, thank you, Mr. Turner, for catching me, but I must be running along."

He stood his large frame in front of me, "Do you have to go so soon, Miss?"

"I'm afraid I do. The children will be expecting me soon."

"Children? You don't look old enough to have a family and I thought you were a Miss."

"I AM a Miss," I defiantly stated. "I'm the teacher for Lost Hill and my children will be needing instruction soon! So, if you don't mind, Mr. Turner."

"No, I don't mind," and he stepped aside and bowed as he gave me passage.

Impertinent man! I surely appreciated the rescue, but he was far too forward with the way he held onto my waist. And even the way he spoke to me was forward. Genteel for sure, but a familiarness that was most improper.

Was the spot on my waist still holding his lingering warmth or was I just imagining it? Oh, and the way he picked me out mid-air. Oh my, I'm sure I'm blushing something fierce.

Now, get ahold of yourself, Lucinda. No use getting worked up over some man. Well, I will just make sure to stay clear of George Turner while he's in town.

***

Wow, I thought. What a beauty! Miss Spellman. She was a sight to behold. Her fiery red hair was put together so tight I think it must hurt her scalp. She was tall for a woman. That's fine by me, though, since at 6'2" I was taller than most men and towered over most women. She had the cutest upturned nose and a smattering of freckles on her face. I couldn't decide what was cuter: the rosy glow in her cheeks she had when I caught her mid-air or the redness level she reached when she was blustering at me.

And the curve of her waist was sublime. Her plain dress was trying to hide it, but I felt the way her waist curved in and then out at her hips in an almost perfect ratio.

She was a tad sassy to be sure. I'm sure it shouldn't, but that made me even more interested. Stepping inside the grocer, I grabbed an apple and approached Mr. Chandler at the counter. "Tell me, Mr. Chandler, what do you know of Miss Spellman?"

"Well, let's see," the older bespectacled man started, "She came here about 4 months back to teach our little ones. Nice enough lady, but keeps to herself mostly. The kids and their parents seem to like her, so I reckon she's a good teacher. I'm afraid I don't know much more than that. She's very polite, but doesn't say much. Certainly not as much as some ladies." He glanced over at the group of talkative women that were spending way too long buying potatoes. They acted as if they didn't notice me, but it was pretty obvious they did and I was most likely the topic of their gossip.

"Well, thank you Mr. Chandler. Thank you very much. Do you know her given name by chance?"

He scratched his head, "Linda? No, that isn't right. It's Lucinda. Yup. Lucinda Spellman. That's it."

Wondering off down the street, biting into my apple, my thoughts were adrift in my mind, occupied with one Lucinda Spellman. Well, George, you might just have to stay in Lost Hill a little longer after all.

Chapter 5

Hutch and I came to an agreement. While I wasn't in her employ, I would spend most evenings at her bar, helping scare off any rowdies. In exchange, she cut my rate in half and I told her I would be staying for a few weeks, at least.

"Oh, so what changed your mind, George?" Madame Hutchinson inquired.

"Just some of Lost Hill's, er, amenities," I cryptically answered.

We both looked at each other and laughed at that.

Now, to look at some land and, more importantly, find out how to woo Lucinda Spellman. True to the grocer's word, she kept to herself. She never came into The Watering Hole and I checked Blackie's too. I didn't like that place. It didn't have the class of Hutch's place plus it was run by John Clements, who was tight with the Sutton clan if the talk was true. I felt a lot of eyes on me the few times I went in there, so I was certainly convinced.

I spent a week or so surveying land, but wasn't sure I wanted to settle here. Maybe I should just move on. But I like it at Hutch's and I can't get that Lucinda Spellman off my mind.

I figured I could run into Lucinda at the grocers, so one morning I set up in a chair on the porch of The Watering Hole, which was nearly opposite Chandler's Grocery. Soon, as if the sun was rising a second time, I saw the lovely red haired schoolmarm approaching the grocers. Jumping to my feet, I scurried across the street and quickly pretended to be investigating which potato I wasn't going to buy.

"Oh, Miss Spellman. It's good to see you again," I started jovially.

"Mr. Turner," was her polite but curt response.

"So, what are we buying today?"

"Just groceries. Nothing special."

"Nothing special. Hmmm, I see. Well, Miss Spellman, I was wondering if you would do me the honor of...".

But she cut me off. "Mr. Turner, I'm sure you're a nice enough fellow and I do appreciate what you did for me the other day, but, no, I would not like to do you the honor of dining with you or drinking with you or gambling with you. Believe me, Mr. Turner, I've had so many honors thrown my way since I arrived in Lost Hill, that I could fill my basket full of honors were they a solid thing."

Taken aback, I wasn't sure what to say. I had always had an easy time with women, though admittedly, I was out of touch with high class ladies, having spent the last decade in the U.S. Army and frequently saloons a fair bit. This one sure had her standards. "Well, Miss Spellman. I thank you kindly for making your feelings so well known."

Frigid spinster! How rude. It wasn't like I was asking her into my bed, or, by God, to marry me. It was simply going to be a dinner.

Well, she's not the only game in town. I've got options. Of course, I was mostly lying to myself. Sure, there were plenty of cute girls at Hutch's and a few young women that would be marrying material, but, from what I had seen so far, they were boring and staid. I wanted a wife with spice.

Damn her. Damn that Lucinda. I'm positively mad at her and, at the same time, more attracted to her than ever. Why did she have this effect on me?

***

"That was rude, Lucinda," I chided myself. He was just being polite. Was probably going to ask you to dinner. What was the harm in that? Well, I know what men want. First it's dinner, then it's drink, and soon they will be coaxing you into their bed. Well, not for me. I won't be tied down to any man.

But George Turner wasn't just any man, was he? Damn his dark eyes and broad shoulders. Why do I feel like a little school girl who just discovered boys for the first time when I'm near him? He can't be all that special. Sure, he's a physical wonder compared to most men in town. Even now, thinking of his trim waist and broad, muscled shoulders is bringing a warmth to my belly and below that I cannot consent to. I must control my body. Why is it betraying me so?

I confess I was not a very good teacher that day. Damn that George Turner. Well, maybe on Sunday the Lord will have something for me from the Parson. Yes, I need to pray about it. I will pray this silly little infatuation away.

Saturday was my day off and I was able to concentrate on my chores and not think about Mr. Turner too terribly much. But he was still in my mind by the time I walked to the church on Sunday morning. After the end of the Parson's sermon, I felt much better. That was until I turned around to find George Turner in the last row of the church.

"Why, Miss Spellman, fancy meeting you here at church," he said approaching me.

"Yes, quite," I replied, not believing for an instant he would be here if I wasn't. Was that annoying or flattering? Both, I decided.

"Do you have plans for your Sunday, Miss Spellman?" he asked politely.

"I'm afraid I do. I'm going over to the Parson's for Sunday supper and then I have my lessons to straighten out."

"Oh," he said and I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

Whether I was feeling sorry for him, reeling from my guilt at my treatment of him the other day or indulging my own desires I don't know, but I found myself saying, "Mr. Turner. If you come to church next Sunday, we could go out for a picnic afterwards. I know a beautiful bluff not too far from here with great views."

"That would be splendid, Miss Spellman. I'm already looking forward to it." With that, he put on his hat and spun around on his boots and strode out of the church. Good heavens, I even like watching him walk away.

Chapter 6

I could hardly wait until Sunday, but I had to get there first. Tensions were rising between Hutch and the owner of Blackie's. He was always trying to poach her employees and then there was theft of some of her supplies. She couldn't prove it, but knew that Hill and the Suttons were behind it.

Things got worse on Wednesday night when Daniel Sutton and a few other men came into The Watering Hole around 8 o'clock that night. I was trying to mind my business while keeping an eye on the Suttons. Soon, their group approached me at the bar.

Dan, already half in his cups, started, "Turner! Yeah, I'm talking to you!"

I turned in my seat to face him. He had three men with him. I recognized two of them from the other week, but I hadn't seen the third. This must be Joshua Sutton. He was about as big as Dan, but was trimmer and meaner looking.

"Well, you found me," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

"Yeah, well," Daniel sputtered out. "You better watch out, Turner. You're gonna get yours."

"Uh, okay. Daniel, it looks you're already drunk. Why don't you just calm down and head on home."

"No one tells me what to do!" he roared as he charged me. Again, it was easy to dodge him, sidestepping his charge and pushing his head into the bar as I did so.

The man I assumed was Joshua stepped forward. He was big and mean looking. And not dumb like his brother. He calmly said, "Look, I know my brother is a drunk and an idiot."

"Josh, you're not supposed to call me that. Mom said!" bellowed Dan, who was nursing the bump on his head.

"Shut up, Dan. The adults are talking." Joshua continued, "As I said, he's a drunk and an idiot. Still, he's my brother and, well, family is family. Are you and I gonna have problems, Turner?"

I could tell this guy meant business. He was formidable and I wasn't sure I could take him in a fist fight or in drawing my gun. "I ain't trying to cause problems for anyone. The first time, I was protecting a lady is all. Now it seems your brother has it out for me."

"You bet I do, you bastard," Dan hollered out.

"Shut it, Dan," Joshua continued, motioning the other men to grab him. "Well, like I said family is family and if we keeping going at loggerheads, I'm gonna have to step in and you don't want that."

Tensions were high and the whole place was quiet. I tried to remain calm, but inwardly, I was worried about this situation. I looked down at Joshua's right hand. It was steady as a breeze and I had little doubt he knew how to draw on a man. It's the calm ones that should scare you. And he was nothing but calm.

Then I heard a cocking noise and turned to see Hutch with a double barreled shotgun pointed right at Joshua Sutton and his men. "Now, you Suttons clear on out of here. You get me?"

"Yeah, Madame, we get you," Joshua answered. "Come boys, let's clear out of here. It stinks in here anyway."

After they backed their way out of the saloon, the piano started back up and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"George, I could use a belt of whiskey," Hutch said. "Join me?"

"Sure," I answered, following her back to her office.

The whiskey helped to calm my nerves a bit, finally saying, "Hutch, what are you going to do about those guys? It's going to come to a head at some point."

"I know, George, but I've already talked to the Sheriff and he's either too afraid of them or, worst yet, on their payroll. He won't even look into the thefts we've endured. George, you best keep your nose clean too."

"I will, Hutch. Believe me, I've had enough of violence and death to last me a life time. I'm not looking for any trouble."

"That's just it. I'm afraid you don't have to be looking for it at all. For better or worse, you've aligned yourself with me. Now Daniel is just an idiot, but Joshua might try to take you out for business reasons."

"Dammit, Hutch. Why you gotta be such a nice woman, making me stand up for you?"

"Making you? I recall you doing that all on your own."

"Well, if you weren't so sweet and sexy, I probably wouldn't have."

"Boy, you keep flattering me like that and I'm going to have take you into my chambers and show my appreciation to you."

I know she was joking, but, still, there was a sexual tension between us that I might just act on if I didn't watch myself.

Changing the subject, she said, "So, George, how's the courtship going?"

Only Hutch could make me blush, which I was pretty sure I was doing. "Well, she agreed to a picnic with me after church on Sunday."

"Oh, George, I don't know why you are bothering with that pious little schoolmarm. She's not like us and there's plenty of women that are marrying material around here that would marry you in an instant."

"I don't know, Hutch. She's different. Maybe that's why I want her so; she's unattainable." It didn't even make sense as the words came out of my mouth. But since when did love make sense?

"Well, if you do manage to catch her, she's one lucky gal." We clinked glasses and drank the last of our whiskey.

Chapter 7

Sunday came at last and I managed to make it through the rest of the week without crossing paths with the Suttons again.

Can't say I agreed with or even understood most of what the Parson was saying, but sitting in the pew next to the lovely Lucinda was salve for any boredom or dissent I was feeling. After the service ended, I grabbed the picnic basket from Lucinda and offered her my arm as we walked out of town towards the bluff she suggested.

The sun was overhead, but it was a moderate mid-September Sunday, so the heat wasn't unbearable. The bluff lived up to her billing, as the valley was spread out before us and we could see the rolling hills of the country side rising well off into the distance. It was a beautiful sight. Not quite so beautiful as the lady next to me, however.

It was a lovely picnic and the food was great. I think I could have been eating bugs if I was with her and I wouldn't mind. We talked about my time in the Army and, while I spared her the bloody details, I outlined what brought me to Lost Hill. She was very inquisitive and absolutely mesmerizing to me.

"What brought you to Lost Hill, Miss Spellman?" I asked.

"Well, I was ready to get out of my town. I love my parents dearly, but every other woman around my age was marrying off and I was destined to be forced into one if I didn't leave. I wanted to be out on my own. I wasn't ready to get married. Not sure I ever will be."

"Strong, independent woman. You are a marvel, Lucinda Spellman, did you know that?" I suggested to her.

And she was. The more I got to know her, the more I wanted to know her. She was like a fever in my mind that wouldn't break.

She blushed. "Oh, I don't know about that. I'm just me."

"Well, you are absolutely marvelous. Thank you for letting me take you on this picnic. I take it you have not done this with many men."

"No, I haven't. I had plenty of courters back home. But they were generally much older men who just wanted a young wife to bear their children and cook them their food. That wasn't the life I had in mind."

"And are you happy with your life now?"

"Yes," she said quickly and then seemed to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment. "I mean, yes, I am happy but it can get lonely just being around children all of the time."

"That's why you should get out more. Come to The Watering Hole and converse with adults."

"Places like that aren't for me. No offense, Mr. Turner, but places like that are full of reprobates and criminals." Realizing that she lumped me in those two categories of people, she added, "Oh, no offense intended."

"None taken," I brushed off her comment. "Look, I'm no saint, but I think you'll find some good people in those places. Maybe there's not a lot of church going folk there, but I believe it's the Good Book that says 'Let he that hast no sin cast the first stone'."

"Touche, Mr. Turner."

I cut her off, "Please. Call me George."

Even that level of familiarity was tough for her I could tell, but she continued with her statement, "Yes, um, George. You're right. We all sin. Some are just more obvious about it."

We spent a few minutes talking about Hutch as she was a good case study for this. Sure, outwardly, she committed all of the big sins, but she was such a good woman. I think Lucinda heard what I was saying, but not sure she quite believed it. Soon, we ran out of things to say and just stared out over the bluff enjoying the beauty of nature.

She peered off into the distance and the sun made her red hair look even more flaming. Of course, she still had it up. I had hoped she would take it down for our picnic. I wonder what she would look like with it down. Just how long was it? Would it fall below her breasts? I caught myself stealing a glance at her as she stared across the bluff, imagining the curves she was hiding underneath her well covering dress. That was all I needed to get myself worked up as I felt a stirring down below. I took my eyes off her and enjoyed the gorgeous view, which of course was only one of the amazing views to be had today.

After a while I said, "Well, Miss Spellman, I better be getting you back. Spending too much time with a rogue like me might not do for your reputation."

"You're no rogue, sir. I've heard the stories of your exploits in town and can attest to your gentlemanly behavior myself."

"That might be true, but if I am alone with you for much longer, I might not be able to help myself."

She laughed a nervous laugh and we started back towards town. My thoughts were consumed with Lucinda as we walked back. I sure was interested in her. Was she enough to make me stay and settle here? Would I want to marry her? Am I ready to get married? Would I be able to convince Lucinda I was worthy of marriage?

***

Oh! Why does he have this effect on me? I'm sure he was joking about not being a gentleman with me. Just a somewhat crude compliment. Still, my mind wandered to him caressing me on the picnic blanket, his hands running up and down my sides. Me arching my back into him as he kissed me deeply as no man had ever done. His hands finding their way to my breasts and tenderly squeezing them as the kissing continues. His dark eyes peering deep into mine and stating, "Lucinda, you are mine, darling. All mine."