The Texan's Inherited Family (Bachelor List Matches) Read online

  Quinn shrugged. “I caught her dawdling by the creek, so I rounded her up and brought her in.”

  “Well, don’t let her hear you describe her that way.”

  “What way?”

  Lawson’s eyes started twinkling. “Like a cow.”

  “I guess it did sound kind of bad.” Quinn grimaced as Lawson laughed and clasped him on the shoulder. How was he ever going to find a wife at this rate? Lollygagging with a woman he didn’t have a chance with then talking about her like she was a heifer. It wasn’t a good start. He needed more than just an expert on love like Ellie. He needed divine intervention.

  Being the last one into the tack room gave Quinn a moment alone to do what needed to be done. He bowed his head to whisper a prayer. “Lord, I might not be much and I may not deserve the finer things in life that other folks have, but I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for my children... All right, and maybe a little for me, too. Please send me a mother for them. Someone to be a helpmeet. That’s all I ask, Lord.”

  “Quinn, everyone else has gone ahead,” Rhett called through the door. “I’m going to head to the cabin. You’d better get your banjo out the wheelbarrow and come on.”

  “I’m coming.” Quinn finished dressing, then left the tack room. Rhett waited at the barn door jumping up and down to get warm while looking longingly across the field toward the cabin. Quinn found his banjo resting right where he’d placed it. Whoever had been in charge of gathering the noisemakers from the creek bank hadn’t been particularly careful in their treatment of his instrument. It had all manner of things piled on top of and around it. He pulled the instrument out only to find a stray piece of paper entwined in its string.

  “Quinn, hurry up, will you? Lawson said Ellie was making some hot cider.”

  “Aw, stop your caterwauling. I’ve said I’m coming.” Quinn tucked the folded paper into his pocket before joining Rhett. They ribbed each other all the way to the cabin, but Quinn’s gaze kept rising to the starry sky that stretched above him. He could only hope that God had heard the pleadings of his heart and see fit to answer.

  Fast.

  * * *

  Helen couldn’t believe she’d lost the Bachelor List. That thought, along with the chill in the air, sent her snuggling farther into her covers the next morning. Amy, the oldest of the three Bradley girls at the boardinghouse where Helen lived, had begged off from the shivaree with a headache then entrusted Helen with a secret note for Ellie. Helen hadn’t had any idea that note was actually the Bachelor List until she’d told Ellie about losing it at the creek. Hopefully, the matchmaker would have more success finding the list in the daytime than Helen had last night. She didn’t understand why Amy hadn’t just given it to Ellie herself later. Well, it was just one more thing that hadn’t made sense about last night—like her sudden attraction to Quinn Tucker.

  “Attraction” was the only explanation for why she’d lingered in the woods with him despite her drenched condition. But why would she feel that way? She’d been telling the truth when she’d said he reminded her of a bear. Just like the one she’d seen at the circus when she was a child; Quinn was big, hairy, arresting and more than a little intimidating. She couldn’t help but wonder how he ate without getting things lost in that unruly-looking mustache and beard. His hair was also overly long. However, there was always that indescribable something about a man with hair that nearly reached his shoulders that made her want to chase after him...with a pair of scissors.

  Raised in Austin’s high society, she was used to polished gentlemen who were always perfectly groomed. But she’d learned her lesson about the cold hearts that could be hidden by gentlemanly exteriors.

  As for Quinn, she couldn’t stop thinking about the gentle, almost awed way he’d reached out to touch her hair. She ought to be outraged by his audacity, but then she’d have to be equally shocked by her own behavior. After all, she was the one who’d taken her hair down in front of a man who was practically a stranger. She ought to be ashamed of herself, but she wasn’t. He’d made her feel comfortable, accepted and precious. It was unnerving. More than unnerving—it was dangerous!

  It was dangerous because she might actually start believing what he’d said about her. Prim and proper she could handle since that was what every good schoolmarm should be, but she knew all too well that she was not perfect. Never perfect—especially not as a woman. Any doubts she’d had about that had been cleared away six months ago when she’d made the mistake of telling her fiancé, Thomas Coyle, that a riding accident she’d had at sixteen had left her unable to have children. Subsequently, their engagement had ended before the engagement dinner was over.

  Helen had quickly studied to become a teacher then moved to Peppin in order to forget her humiliation. If only it was as easy to forget the dreams she’d cherished since she was just a child. Back then, she’d often been found playing house in her mother’s dresses with at least one baby doll clutched in each arm. She’d thought being a teacher would be close enough to the fulfillment of that dream to keep her satisfied. Instead, it only fed the longing for the one thing she knew she’d never be able to have—children of her own.

  No, Quinn wouldn’t have called her perfect if he’d known the truth. Or, perhaps he wouldn’t care that she’d never have children. He did have four of his own. She saw the two eldest every school day. She knew a teacher wasn’t supposed to have favorites and she didn’t let it show in the schoolroom, but the Tucker children’s plight had paved their way straight into her heart.

  She tossed the thoughts away along with her covers and dressed for the day. What was wrong with her? She knew better than to let herself think things like that. Hadn’t she learned anything from her fiancé’s rejection? Yet, she could almost hear the comforting tones of her mother’s voice in the aftermath of that disaster. I promise you, my darling, if Thomas loved you—truly loved you—it wouldn’t have mattered to him that you can’t have children. As pretty as those words were, Helen wasn’t entirely sure she believed them.

  She grabbed her teaching materials then hurried out of her room. A quick glance at the grandfather clock in the main hallway told her that she’d better hurry if she planned to get that cantankerous schoolhouse stove going before class started. She popped into the kitchen only long enough to glean a muffin from a rather tired-looking Mrs. Bradley, before heading out the front door.

  A whirlwind of yellow-and-brown oak leaves swirled around her as she hurried down Main Street toward the schoolhouse—their chaos an apt visualization of her nervousness, which increased the closer she got to the schoolhouse. There had been a few minor disturbances early in the school term while she had been adjusting to teaching and the students had been adjusting to her. The president of the school board, Mr. Etheridge, had warned her that another incident of any kind would warrant a discussion of her fitness for the teaching position with the rest of the school board. Sending the man’s son home on Friday with a black eye and bloody nose courtesy of Reece Tucker couldn’t have helped matters.

  Helen took a deep breath to calm herself down. Surely Mr. Etheridge must have understood from her note that she’d managed to de-escalate the situation quickly. If nothing else, he had to appreciate the fact that she’d kept the boys from hurting each other further and had even gotten them to apologize.

  Feeling a bit more confident, Helen unlocked the schoolroom door and got the fire in the stove going just as students began arriving. A few called jaunty hellos, but most just silently stored their dinner pails in the coatroom then rushed out to play until she was ready to call them in. She had the school bell in hand to do exactly that when Violet, the youngest of Mr. Bradley’s three daughters, met her at the schoolhouse door. “Helen, why didn’t you stay for breakfast? You missed all the excitement!”

  She ought to remind Violet to refer to her as Miss McKenna during school hours, but technically the bell hadn’t
rung yet, so Helen allowed herself to be drawn in by the fifteen-year-old’s exuberance. “What excitement? What’s happened?”

  “Amy eloped last night!”

  “Eloped?” Her mouth fell open. “I don’t believe it. How? With whom? Why?”

  “With Silas Smithson, of all people! I don’t think you’ve met him. He left town over a year ago. He stayed at the boardinghouse while he was here, which is how he and Amy became sweethearts. He tricked us all into thinking that he worked with the railroad when he was actually an undercover Ranger. I guess Papa’s pride was hurt by Silas’s deception, because he forbade us to have anything to do with him once the truth came out. That didn’t stop Amy from corresponding with him in secret all this time. At least, that’s what she said in the letter she left us.”

  Helen shook her head. “No wonder Amy asked me to give Ellie the Bachelor List. She wasn’t planning to be around long enough to do it herself.”

  “You have the Bachelor List?” Excitement lit the girl’s blue eyes. She caught Helen’s arm. “What is it like? Where is it? Did you find out who your match is?”

  “I had the Bachelor List. It was nothing grand—just a folded-up piece of paper. I didn’t find my match because I didn’t know the paper was the list until Ellie figured out what it must have been. By that point, I’d already lost it at the shivaree.”

  “You lost it? Oh, Helen. That’s tragic.”

  Helen sighed. “It certainly is, and I feel horrible about it. Hopefully, Ellie will find it today. Meanwhile, I need to ring the school bell or we’re going to start the day late.”

  “But I have so much more to tell you! This elopement is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me.”

  “You’ll have to tell me the rest at dinner. Now, hurry and put your things in the coatroom. I need to ring the bell.”

  Violet gave a dramatic sigh as she opened the cloakroom door then shut it immediately. She glanced back at Helen with wide eyes. “There’s a man in there!”

  Before Helen could do more than frown, Quinn Tucker emerged, hands raised as though he was a victim of a holdup. “I’m sorry, ladies. There just didn’t seem to be a good time to interrupt.”

  Helen held back a laugh at the guilty expression on his face and crossed her arms. “Yes, well, there generally never is when you’re eavesdropping. What were you doing in there, anyway?”

  “I was bringing Clara and Reece the dinner I ordered for them at the café.” He slipped his hands into his pockets then glanced at Violet. “I won’t tell anyone what I overheard.”

  “Oh, half the town has probably heard the story by now and the other half will know soon enough. Tell whoever you want. I don’t mind.” Violet gave them a quick smile before disappearing into the coatroom.

  Quinn opened the schoolhouse door for Helen then gave her the same crooked grin Reece often used when he knew he was in trouble. “Does that square me with you, Miss McKenna?”

  “I suppose it does.” She glanced up at him when they reached the grass. “Of course, I’m still waiting for you to keep your half of the deal we made last night.”

  “I got suckered into that deal and you know it.” He narrowed his eyes at the innocent smile she gave him and lifted a brow before setting his hat on his head. “Good day, Miss McKenna.”

  “Good day, Mr. Tucker.” She rang the school bell as she watched him stride toward Main Street and wondered what it was about him that she found so attractive. In Austin, she’d preferred gentlemen with a certain level of suavity, affluence and ambition; but those very qualities were the ones that had left her ringless at her engagement dinner. Quinn seemed to be a different sort of man—honest, unassuming, devoted and a bit desperate in his attempts to be a good uncle. Perhaps that was what she found attractive.

  A small hand tugged at her skirt. She dropped her gaze to find Reece’s sparring partner standing before her with a greenish-yellow ring around his left eye. She knelt down. “How are you, Jake?”

  He shrugged. “Aw, I’m fine, ma’am. Pa told me to be sure to give you this.”

  She took the envelope he handed her then thanked him and sent him into the schoolroom with the rest of the children. She tore open the letter, which was so brief it was almost a waste of good paper. She was to dismiss the children thirty minutes early so that an emergency meeting of the school board could convene at the schoolhouse that afternoon.

  She pulled in a calming breath. No need to panic. Despite all of her hopes to the contrary, she’d seen this coming. Perhaps it didn’t have to be a bad thing. After all, this meant her job performance would be reviewed by all the members of the school board—not just Mr. Etheridge. The two other members had seemed nice and welcoming when she’d met them at the beginning of the term. But what if Mr. Etheridge was able to convince them that she was inept at her job?

  She could always return home. Her parents had made sure she knew their door was always open to her, but she didn’t want to leave Peppin. In this town, she was known for what she did and who she was. In Austin, people knew her for what her family did and who they were in society. She’d received this teaching position based on her own merit, not on the influence of her family. She meant to make the most of this opportunity and that did not mean getting fired only five weeks into the semester. If Mr. Etheridge thought it would be easy to get rid of her, he had another think coming. She might not be able to be a wife and mother, but she had no intention of letting her replacement dream slip through her fingers without a fight.

  Chapter Two

  Please. Please. Please. Quinn’s pleading matched the hurried rhythm of his steps as he left the schoolhouse behind. What were the chances that God had seen fit to answer Quinn’s prayer for a wife only seconds after he’d spoken it? That could very well be the case if the paper that had gotten caught up in his banjo strings was the same one he’d overheard Helen saying she’d lost—the Bachelor List.

  If Ellie had included him on the list, surely she would have matched him with someone who would be a good mother and wouldn’t mind hitching up with the likes of him. Why, he might not have to do any courting at all if he showed the woman they’d been matched on the list. The children could have a mother by the end of the week if this panned out.

  He waited until he could duck into the alleyway beside Maddie’s Café then pulled the list from his pocket, grateful that his lack of time to do laundry meant he had on the same pants he’d worn the night before. He unfolded the paper and pressed it against the side of the building to smooth it out. It certainly appeared to be a list of some kind. He ran his finger down the column of script, looking for the circle with the line through the side of it that would signify the beginning of his name. There it was. Q-u-i-n-n. Quinn. The only word he knew how to read and write.

  “Thank You, God! I’m on the list.”

  He threw a kiss heavenward to thank his grandmother for giving him the skills to figure out that much. However, as usual, it wasn’t enough. He knew from all the talk he’d heard about the list that the name of the woman he was supposed to marry should be right next to his. That looked to be true, but whose name started with a letter that looked as if he was staring straight at a beefy Longhorn bull?

  Folding the paper back in his pocket, he blew out a sigh and pounded the side of his fist on the wall. He was going to have to ask for help. There was no way around it this time.

  Two years. He’d been in this town for two years and no one knew that he was illiterate. Never once had he needed to set aside his pride and admit defeat until now. What else could he do? The children needed a mother. He needed them to have a mother.

  He knew just who to go to for help, even if it would be a bit humbling. He walked into Maddie’s Café and waved his thanks to the proprietress for keeping an eye on the two youngest children while he’d taken the elder two their dinners. Maddie offered him a distracted smile
as she went about filling orders. Quinn realized it probably hadn’t been a good idea to leave them with her since they were quietly drawing on the table with their colored chalk rather than the slates they’d been given. He wiped the evidence away with his sleeve the best he could before removing the chalk from their hands, which started Olivia wailing.

  Quinn placed the eighteen-month-old on his hip then grabbed the hand of four-year-old Trent and hurried outside. The only blond in the family, Trent’s brown eyes stayed as solemn as he’d been silent since soon after his parents’ deaths. The boy’s little legs chugged along as he frowned up at Quinn, who took that as a sign to slow down. Olivia stopped wailing long enough to push away from him and stare at a passing lady. The little girl reached out for the stranger. The woman saw her and smiled. It was a heartwarming moment until the girl’s hand latched on to the fake red bird on the lady’s hat. There was a struggle and when the woman finally managed to get away, she was missing the ornament. Quinn gently wrestled it from his niece’s hand and offered it to its owner. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  The woman shook her head as she backed away. “She can keep it.”

  “Sorry!” Quinn called again then stared into Olivia’s blue eyes as he gave the bird back to her. “The last thing I need is for you to start running off women.”

  The girl hugged the fake feathered ornament to her chest. Looking at him very intently, she said, “Doggie.”

  “No. That’s a birdie.”

  “Doggie.”

  “Sugar, you can talk real good for your age, but most of what you say just isn’t right. Maybe I ought to get Miss McKenna to have a talk with you.” He reached down to grab Trent’s hand again but came up empty. He glanced down. There was no trace of the boy. Panic rose in his throat. “Trent!”