Chapter Five

By ten the next morning, Linc found himself staring at the steps leading to the schoolhouse door. Two days ago, he'd never thought he'd find himself back at the school so soon after his public confrontation with Miss McAllister.

He'd gotten the girls up early, explaining to the two younger ones what he expected of them. After he made breakfast and cobbled together something for their midday meal, he oversaw the washing up. Once they dressed, he did their hair as best he could, and repeated how wrong it was to meddle in other people's lives.

A spray of cedar boughs, with its woodsy scent and a jaunty red bow, replaced the sheaves of wheat and bittersweet vines adorning the schoolhouse door only two days ago. While only a handful of businesses were decorated this far in advance of the holiday, it was apparent to Linc that the schoolteacher enjoyed making a festive and welcoming impression for all. She was organized, too. Something else Linc was lacking.

Pretty. Caring. Smart. Kind.

Weren't those the words Rachel used when she described Claire? He shook his head to rid himself of any more crazy thoughts, and without hesitation, pushed his way into the schoolhouse.

If Linc thought the welcoming boughs and red ribbons were welcoming, the interior of the one-room schoolhouse looked like every Christmas Eve he'd spent with his family. Paper snowflakes were attached to lengths of twine strung from one side of the room to the other. A red cedar seedling stuck in a bucket of rocks was adorned with bits of white cotton batting made to resemble snow, more paper snowflakes, bows made from red yarn, and clusters of blue-grey berries. A shiny, silver, five-pointed star was perched—a bit lopsided—near the top of the seedling.

"Across the sky, down from heaven. Now, we have the number seven." Repeating the rhyme, Claire's melodious voice floated in the air toward him. Industriously, the young students followed her directions on their slates. In a far corner, the older students were helping another group with their reading.

No one noticed him until he cleared his throat. As one, all eyes turned toward him.

"Papa!" Rachel and Violet swiveled in their seats, but Daisy jumped up from Claire's group and ran to him, flinging her arms around his knees.

"Mr. Wyse." In one graceful move, Claire stood and came toward him. Floated, would be a better description as her skirts swished around her ankles. Her hair was swept up into a jumble of curls with a few wispy tendrils framing her face. "This is a surprise."

"I…um…I was hoping to have a word with you." His voice was shakier than he would have liked.

Her eyes were guarded as she studied him. He couldn't blame her. Their past two encounters could hardly be described as friendly. Heck, they were barely on speaking terms.

"Miss Claire? Can we sing the new song you taught us for Papa?" Violet pleaded. She clasped her hands and pressed them to her chest.

He thought she might refuse. But instead, she gave a quick nod and all the children rushed to the front of the room, jostling each other for their position. A moment later, Claire produced a pitch pipe from her top desk drawer and turned to face an audience of one.

"The name of this song is " Up on the Housetop ." It was written by Benjamin Hamby ten years ago. The song describes St. Nicholas and the reindeer as they make their way to people's homes to leave presents." She turned the disc until she found the marked opening and blew into it.

Linc eased himself onto a nearby bench. At the sound of the first notes and the children's sweet, happy voices lifted in song, he relaxed. He found himself tapping his foot to the jaunty tune, unable to recall the last time he simply sat and enjoyed the moment. Running a spread and caring for the dairy herd was simply too much for one man. He needed to get some help at the farm so he could relax a little. That would take care of one part of his problem.

That left finding someone to care for the house and the girls.

The song ended, and he clapped loudly as the children bowed and curtsied before they returned to their seats.

A little girl about Violet's age took his hand. "Would you like to visit our Christmas Wishing Well?"

"I'll see it after I talk with Miss Claire." He had to get back to the ranch.

The girl giggled. "It's not outside, Mr. Wyse." She tugged on his hand until they stood in front of a paper cut-out of a wishing well on a far wall. Holly leaves and red berries adorned the roof of the well. Surrounding the well were the children's Christmas wishes. As expected, most of them wished for tangible things…a job for a boy's pa, a pony, a puppy, a new dress, a game of jacks, or marbles. He stopped, the last one capturing his attention.

A new wife for Papa and a new mama to love me and my sisters.

"Linc?"

Startled, Linc pulled his gaze from his daughter's Christmas wish to the woman standing beside him. The same woman his girls thought would make a good wife for him and a mama for them.

"Can we talk?" He jerked his thumb toward the door and hoped she understood the need for a private conversation without little ears listening.

"Certainly. Just let me get my coat." Before they stepped onto the landing, Claire issued a warning to the students to continue with their primers. Automatically, he curled his hand around her elbow as they made their way down the steps. This was the type of gesture that made him miss being a husband, having a wife, and being a companion.

"I came here this morning to apologize to you, Claire," he said, suddenly reluctant to let her go.

"You don't mince words, do you, Linc Wyse?"

Linc shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "Looks like we'll be getting more snow." He was never any good at making idle conversation.

"Apology accepted," she said, and quickly added, "on one condition."

The word prickly popped into his thoughts. "What's that?"

"You accept my apology as well."

"What do you have to be sorry about?"

"Making a hasty judgment about your family before I had the facts."

Linc gave her a quizzical look.

"Betsy told me what the girls had been up to. I'm honored that your daughters considered me worthy to be their mother." She smiled, and he thought her pretty when she wasn't criticizing him. "Besides, the girls apologized first thing this morning."

"I talked with them as well, reminding them they had no business interfering in other people's lives. I can guarantee you it won't happen again."

"And why is that?

"I'm going to get married."

Lincoln Wyse was getting married. Would it be someone local or would he send away for a mail-order bride from a matrimonial publication?

Once that news hit the gossip grapevine, there were bound to be lots of broken hearts. And hers would be among them as the thought filled Claire with a surprising combination of yearning and sadness.

Admittedly, Linc was one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. Except that he spent too much time frowning and growling. Yet, to think that he was planning to take a wife…a stranger, at that. She couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to have him take an interest in someone like her. Well, it was nothing more than a dream that would never be realized. It was best to clear thoughts of marriage and children from her mind as quickly as possible.

Especially since she had accused him of neglecting his girls not only privately but publicly. If only she had understood why the Wyse girls had dreamed up their elaborate matchmaking scheme. But it had taken a few discreet comments from Betsy Wyse to learn the truth.

"Are you going to the church social after services on Sunday?"

Claire turned her attention from her lesson plans to her sister Mary. Mary was the reason Claire moved to Crystal Creek from Baltimore to teach school. Mary's husband had died from what they thought was a simple cold that quickly turned into pneumonia just before their first anniversary. By chance, the move to support Mary coincided with an opening to teach school at the start of the fall term.

Also, it was an answer to a prayer. Their older sister had married the man Claire had thought the Lord had designed for her. But once Ava and Drew had pledged their troth, she knew she had to leave.

She planned to start a new life, help Mary heal, and enrich the lives of her students. Falling for Linc Wyse…or any man, for that matter, wasn't part of the arrangement. "I don't think so. With the school concert behind me, I have to concentrate on the Christmas Dance." She made some final notes in her book before sliding it inside her satchel. Right now, the last thing she wanted to do was to socialize—even if the weekly after-church social was her favorite gathering—and run the risk of meeting up with Linc again. Not that he would probably go. After all, he'd said more than once he was too busy to come to town. What made her believe he'd start now?

Yet, he had shown up at the schoolhouse in the middle of the day to apologize.

"Jennie Tupper says it's going to be rather jolly."

Jennie Tupper needs to watch her tongue , she said to herself recalling the gossipmongers in the mercantile. "Sounds like it." Claire loved sharing fellowship and food with the other congregants each Sunday. It allowed her to talk with the parents in a relaxed setting, often resolving an issue or discovering that a student possessed a particular talent.

Mary's eyes twinkled. "I suppose so… what better time to socialize with our friends and neighbors than after hearing the Lord's word?"

"You go on without me, Mary," she finally decided. "I'll walk home right after services."

"I think you're making a mistake, Claire. But it's your decision."

It may be a mistake but it was her mistake and the best way she knew to shield her heart. Besides, if she were to admit it to herself, she could fall in love with Grumpy Lincoln Wyse.

Linc tromped up the porch steps leading to his mother's house. With the weight of seeing Claire McAllister and apologizing for his behavior off his mind, he was anxious to see his mother. He imagined he'd have to face Betsy as well. He wasn't too sure how he felt about her telling Claire about the scheme his girls carried out.

It was in the past and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Mother," he called. He stomped the snow from his boots, pushed open the door then waited until she came around the corner from the kitchen. There were few things in his life that were as comforting and reassuring as his mother's presence, that she could be counted on when he needed her.

"Linc, what a wonderful surprise! I missed you." Doreen Wyse finished wiping her hands on her apron before she pulled her oldest son into her arms. "I've got coffee brewing and a vanilla custard pie just out of the oven. I know you like it warm."

He followed her into the kitchen. In the time it took him to shrug off his coat and hat, take a seat, and accept a cup of steaming coffee, he found out that his extended family in Harmony was well and looking forward to Christmas.

"Oh, and your cousin Hope is joining them for good. She's arriving next week. And Thorne is sweet on the schoolteacher but she hasn't given him the time of day."

Linc nearly choked on the sip of coffee, thinking he and his cousin, Thorne Brody had something in common. Though he was younger than Thorne by several years, his cousin had always included Linc in any snowball fights, boating excursions, foot races, and swimming down by the creek. With his dark hair and blue eyes, Thorne Brody was larger than life and always considered himself a ladies' man.

"What's on your mind, Linc?"

Linc forked a bite of the warm pie, popped it in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"You waited two days before you came to see me. And you haven't brought the girls by to say hello. What are you hiding?"

He toyed with his fork, smashing the remnants of the crust. "Well, there is something…I'm getting remarried."

Except for two spots of red on her cheeks, Doreen Wyse's face went pale. "Remarried?"

"Yes." He grabbed onto his coffee cup and took a fortifying gulp, then nodded. "It's time…for the girls' sake."

His mother took her own invigorating swallow. "When is this wedding? And who are you marrying…a local girl?"

"I don't know."

She put the back of her hand on Linc's forehead and then his cheek as if she were checking for any sign of illness. "Which one is it…You don't know when you're getting married or who you're marrying?"

The way she said it made it sound as if he had lost whatever marbles he once had. "Both, I guess."

She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, assessing him with ‘the look' that warned him he'd better come up with a better answer or suffer the consequences. Perhaps his girls got this trait from her. "Since you don't know when or who you're planning on walking down the aisle, how do you know it's going to happen?"

"Because it has to."

‘The look' intensified as she raised an eyebrow, pursed her lips, and waited for him to explain.

"As you are aware, Mother, the girls need a mama. Katie has been gone for some time now, and just the other night Daisy cried because she couldn't remember what she looked like." He looked away, studying the intricate bobbin lace pattern on the tablecloth. "Today was the first time I've said her name aloud without feeling my heart break… it's time to move on."

But the one person who kept creeping into his thoughts at the least appropriate times was…"Claire McAllister".

"Cl-Claire…Claire McAllister?"

Linc whipped his head up so suddenly, he expected a stinging pain in his neck. "No, no!" Why had the thought worked its way into his mind? Marrying—or even thinking about marrying—that busybody was the last thing he needed. Most likely she'd want to stick her nose in his business, challenging him at every turn. She had accepted his apology once but what would stop her from coming out to the house when something else might get stuck in her craw?

"Lincoln Wyse...are you even listening to me?"

Something in the tone of her voice caused Linc to acknowledge his mother as images of Claire continued to muddle his thoughts. "Sorry, Mother. What did you say?"

"Would that be so bad?"

"Would what be so bad?" Betsy breezed into the room, poured a cup of coffee, and pointed to his unfinished piece of pie. "You done with that?"

Linc nodded and slid it across the table.

Betsy forked a bite. "So," she asked a second time, "what would be so bad?"

"Nothing," Linc muttered

"Linc marrying Claire McAllister."

Betsy choked on the pie, spewing it into the air.

Doreen jumped up. "Elizabeth Esther Wyse! That is by far the most unladylike demonstration of bad manners I've ever witnessed."

While his mother ran for a wet rag, Linc delighted in giving his sister a thwack between her shoulder blades and earned a lethal glare for his efforts.

"I apologize, Mother," Betsy croaked when she finally could talk again. "But when I heard Linc was marrying Claire, well, I was just so surprised."

"I'm not marrying Claire McAllister!" The words exploded from him as he turned toward his sister. "This is how rumors get started in this town."

"Don't accuse me of gossiping, Linc Wyse. You're the one talking about getting married," she retorted in her own defense.

"You can't blame her, Linc." He wasn't surprised his mother sided with his sister. What did his father always say?... All girls together.

"You're not listening. I didn't say I was marrying Claire McAllister. You did," he protested.

"But you did say you were getting remarried," his mother pointed out.

Linc nodded.

"So why don't you marry Claire?" Betsy chimed in.

"I agree," Doreen added.

Linc's brows drew together in an agonized expression. At home he was outnumbered three to one; here, the odds decreased only slightly. Even his herd was female.

He pushed his chair back and stood up. He needed to get away. "I'll bring the girls by soon for a visit."

"Are you going to stop by the school to see Claire?" his sister asked.

"No." He shrugged into his coat, jammed on his hat, and kissed his mother's cheek.

"It might not be a bad idea," Betsy teased. "You could get the girls while you're at it."

"Goodbye, Mother," he said. "I'm glad you made it home safely."

Linc let himself out of the house, certain he could hear Betsy's laughter following along behind him.