to drop his load in the wood box near the hearth.
Rina paid him no attention. She ran to the window and peered out, head turning from one side to the other as if trying to take in every inch of the darkness.
“Thank the Lord you made it here safely,” she said before turning to look at him. She blinked. “Why aren’t you armed?”
She was obviously terrified to be out in the wilderness. He should have thought of that, but then, he hadn’t considered Seattle all that much more civilized. Best to keep things light. He made a show of raising his arms and glancing at each in turn. “I thought I was armed.”
“Will you be serious? Help me with these.” She whirled to tug at one of the shutters beside the window. James crossed to her side and helped her close them. He could hear her breath coming quickly. How could he ease her concerns?
“There you go, Rina,” he said, stepping back as if to admire their handiwork. “All shut in, safe and sound. Probably a good idea considering the treasure this schoolhouse is guarding.”
She frowned at him, the pink of exertion darkening her cheeks. “Treasure? What treasure?”
“Why, the prettiest schoolmarm west of the Mississippi,” he told her, adding a smile for good measure.
She stiffened. “Nonsense. Really, Mr. Wallin, I wish you would attend to the problem for once.”
James threw up his hands. “And I wish you’d realize there is no problem!”
From outside came the howl of a wolf.
Rina grabbed his arm, eyes wide. “Did you hear that?”
“Hush, now,” James answered, listening. The call came again, close to the schoolhouse, yet he could hear no whinnies of terror from the barn, no worried lows from the oxen or squeals from the pigs.
“Can it get in?” she whispered.
James touched her hand. “You’re safe, Rina. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She gazed up at him, face pinched. She wanted to believe him—he could see it in those clear eyes. Yet she couldn’t. Had Catherine told her how he’d failed the family in the past? No, of course not. Catherine wanted Rina to fall in love with him. She wouldn’t point out his faults. Perhaps it had been Ma. Or maybe Rina had just noticed that he was the least talented of his brothers. She was clever enough to have figured out she couldn’t afford to believe in him.
Another call sounded, and something scratched at the door of the schoolhouse. Rina clung to James, trembling. He felt for her—alone, vulnerable and with only him to lean on.
He straightened and set her back from him. “Stay here. I’ll deal with this.”
She shook her head, hair falling from her bun to brush her shoulders with gold. “No, James, please! It’s too dangerous!”
James touched the silk of her cheek. “What is it you always say to me? Nonsense. I’ll be right back, Rina. I promised to protect you, and I mean to keep that promise.”
Rina’s fingers felt numb as James pulled away and headed for the door. She hadn’t been able to catch her breath since she’d heard noises outside. First had come a rattling sound outside her window, as if something was shaking the bushes. Then those hideous cries had pierced the night. She might have been raised in civilization, but she’d read about the mournful call of the wolf. How was James to defend himself against an entire ravenous pack?
“Please, stay inside,” she begged, following him to the door. “If anything happens to you...” She couldn’t make herself finish the sentence.
His smile was sad. “Life would go on. I’m not that important in the scheme of things. But you are. Now, stand back.”
She scuttled away from the door. Lord, please protect him! Send those creatures away before they harm any of these kind people!
He edged out the door and shut it behind him.
Rina ran to the panel and pressed her ear against it. How many were out there? Would they jump on him? They certainly sounded too fierce to run away. Why, oh, why had she agreed to travel all the way to Seattle, to come out into the wilderness with him? This chance for a school was beyond wonderful, but nothing was worth the loss of a man’s life.
From outside came a crack and a yelp. Was he hurt? Should she go help? Her hand was on the latch, fingers trembling, when she heard footsteps crossing the porch. Wolves did not wear shoes. She backed away, hands pressed to her chest, as the door opened.
James stood there, fir needles speckling his hair, smile on his face, all limbs accounted for and not a scratch on him. “Problem solved.”
Rina peered around him, unable to believe things had been settled so easily. “Have they gone?”
“Not exactly.” He raised his voice. “Levi, Scout—inside. Now.”
His younger brother slunk through the door, curly-haired head bowed. A slighter boy with a misshapen nose followed him.
“Miss Fosgrave is your teacher,” James said, his look more severe than any of her tutors had ever given her. “And she deserves your respect. But I think you have something to teach her at the moment. She seems to think we have wolves besieging the schoolhouse.”
Levi snickered, and his friend smiled. Why was that funny? Did they know some way to subdue the beasts?
James focused on the smaller boy. “Is there a wolf pack in this area, Scout?”
So this was her other student. His brown hair was as thick and wild as a crow’s nest, sticking out in all directions, and his clothing appeared to be several sizes too big and several days past a washing. At James’s question, he visibly swallowed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tattered trousers. “No.”
The word came out reluctantly, sullen. She would not allow James to be so disrespected.
“No, sir,” Rina corrected the boy.
James looked surprised. So did Scout.
“Why?” he asked, glancing at James. “It’s just James Wallin.”
“Listen to your teacher,” James ordered him.
Scout bowed his head. “All right. Sir.”
James nodded. “And do we occasionally see a rogue wolf in the area, Levi?”
His brother jumped as if he hadn’t thought he’d be questioned too. “Yes, but don’t expect me to call you, sir.”
More disrespect. It simply wasn’t right. James was their elder, a man who, it seemed, had earned a certain stature if his charter to bring them a schoolteacher was any indication. They had every reason to treat him with deference.
“A simple yes or no will do, Mr. Wallin,”
