Lacy Williams by Roping the Wrangler Page B

one to tell tales,” she said. “She said he’d called for you at the schoolhouse and some of the children heard you making plans to see each other.”
    Then the other woman’s face smoothed. She reached across the table and patted the back of Sarah’s hand. “I’m sure it’s all new and you don’t want the man getting a little nervous if he overhears something in town. Well, don’t worry, dear. Men don’t pay attention to the sort of gossip that we women love to partake in.”
    “I’m not worried,” Sarah said sharply. Working to soften her tone, she went on, “There’s nothing between the horseman and myself.” Even if her stomach was full of butterflies, it didn’t mean Oscar White held any attraction for her. “I actually came calling today to talk to you about another matter. There are a couple of girls in my classroom who are in need. I was hoping that...perhaps you and some of the other women in town—other mothers who understand the importance of a child being properly clothed during the kind of winters we have up here—might show some charity toward them.”
    Mrs. Anderson went stiff in her hard-backed chair, teacup clacking against the saucer as she set it down. “I know who you are speaking of and I’m afraid it’s impossible.”
    Heat worse than what Sarah had felt when the woman had brought up Oscar scalded her cheeks. “I’m disappointed to hear that. I thought that such a fine, upstanding woman of the community such as yourself would want to help with this situation.” Sarah knew she should temper her words, try to cajole the woman into helping in some way, but she couldn’t. Not after being disarmed by gossip about herself and the horseman and the woman’s quick dismissal of Cecilia’s and Susie’s needs.
    Now the other woman’s cheeks blazed pink. “Perhaps you would be better served worrying about yourself and your marriage prospects instead of prying into matters better left alone. And insulting me—”
    Sarah stood and excused herself with a nod, afraid that if she opened her mouth, the words that would erupt would only deteriorate the situation further. She swept out of the house.
    The rest of her calls fared no better. Each woman seemed happy to see her, eager to gossip about the horseman. But when Sarah expressed her reason for the calls she was shut out in every case.
    Did the people of Lost Hollow have no compassion?
    And without their help, how could Sarah and her meager salary provide what the girls needed?

Chapter Seven
    O scar could guess Sarah’s meetings hadn’t gone well by the tense set of her shoulders and the white lines around her mouth when he next saw her.
    What were they going to do for the girls if no one was willing to help? He supposed he could dip into his savings, but if he spent the funds he’d been saving for the stallion he wanted, he’d have to take another job before he could return home, before his dreams could be fulfilled.
    But what of the girls and their needs?
    His grumbling stomach made it hard to concentrate on anything else, but he gave it an attempt, tucking Sarah’s arm through the crook of his elbow and leading her toward the edge of town.
    It was a measure of how upset she was that she didn’t seem to notice the two horses he led by their reins, walking behind.
    “Let’s get something to eat and you can tell me all about it.”
    “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m so angry I could just scream.”
    At the edge of town, they reached the same picnic area where the basket auction had been held weeks ago, and this seemed to finally break through to Sarah’s consciousness. She looked around, noticed the horses and her arm tensed in his.
    “I suppose you’re really not taking me to the hotel dining room, then?” she asked. But she didn’t sound terribly disappointed. Almost sounded relieved, and he wondered if he should be insulted she didn’t want to be seen with him in public. Or perhaps it was something else