Calder Brand - Janet Dailey Page 0,95

what they needed. The thought brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. She couldn’t remember anyone ever having made her feel so welcome.

Blake, who’d always shared his mother’s room, was elated over having his own space in the loft. Standing partway up the ladder, Sarah made him a bed next to the wall, making sure he wouldn’t tumble off the edge in his sleep. “Can Hummy sleep up here with me?” he asked.

“Humdinger is too big for the ladder,” Sarah said. “He’ll have to sleep downstairs. Maybe before it gets cold outside, we can even build him a doghouse.”

Sarah had her son practice climbing up and down the ladder to make sure he could do it without falling. Then she let him take a couple of cookies and his favorite picture book and settle down in his new spot. “I’m going to look at the schoolroom next door,” she said. “If you need me, you’ll know where to find me.”

Leaving the dog behind, she went out the side door, walked through the passageway, and entered the classroom—her classroom. A tingle of anticipation slid through her as she imagined her students walking in through the front door, greeting her with smiles, and sitting at the tables, ready to learn.

Lorna had told her to expect about twelve pupils, most of them young, but some already in their teens. For the older ones, she’d shipped three boxes of books ahead of her arrival. They included her own treasured collection as well as books on science, history, and mathematics that she’d salvaged from Uncle Harlan’s house. She’d also collected some books for younger children. If she could instill her own love of reading in her students, that would be the most valuable gift she could impart to them.

The boxes were already here. Someone had piled them next to her desk. Now would be as good a time as any to unpack them and arrange them on the shelves.

She’d emptied the first box and had just started on the second when she heard the sound of a footstep and a familiar voice behind her.

“Hello, Sarah.”

Her breath caught. Heart slamming, she turned. Joe had come in through the front door and was standing behind her—taller and broader than she remembered, his face fully a man’s now, sharp-chiseled and determined but with the same warm blue eyes.

Conflicting emotions flooded her, but strongest of all was the need to protect her son.

She stood up to face him. The first words out of her mouth were “You can’t be here.”

“I know.” He remained where she was, making no effort to come closer. “Rusty already read me the riot act and told me to leave you alone. But just this once I had to see you. And I had to see our son. Just this once, and I’ll never trouble you again.”

“No!” She kept her voice low, fearing it might carry through the open passageway. “I won’t let you see him. I won’t let him be confused or hurt. I won’t damage your family or open myself to the scandal I left behind in Ogallala. As far as you’re concerned, we’re strangers. I’m a widow, and he’s my son. Mine and no one else’s.”

“Sarah, I swear I didn’t know,” he said. “I thought you’d gone off to school. Rusty didn’t say anything about it to me.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if he had. By the time Rusty found out about the baby, you were married.”

“But I would’ve done something—sent you money at least.”

“I wouldn’t have accepted your charity.” Sarah’s voice was cold. “Now go away. Go home to your family, and don’t come back.”

There was a beat of dead silence in the room. Then a small voice piped into the stillness. “Mama, I heard somebody. Who’s this man?”

Blake, with the dog at his side, was standing in the entrance to the passageway.

Joe turned, taking his time, perhaps trying not to startle his son. The resemblance between the two was stunning. Joe would notice it at once. But Blake, who rarely bothered to look at himself in a mirror, might not. Sarah held her breath, waiting, as if her world were about to shatter.

Blake stepped forward, his hand extended as his mother had taught him. “Hello, mister,” he said. “My name is Blake. Pleased to meet you.”

Sarah’s knees went limp beneath her skirt. She had never been prouder of her son than at this moment.

Joe bent to accept the handshake. When he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “Pleased to meet you, too, Blake. My