A spinster by choice
When Willa Wrightâs fiancé abandoned her, he ended all her hopes for romance. Now she dedicates herself to teaching Pinewoodâs children, including the new pastorâs young wards. If she didnât know better, Reverend Calvertâs kindness could almost fool Willa into caring again. Almost...
Though Matthew Calvert adores his niece and nephew, he wants a family of his own, too. The more he sees of the pretty schoolteacher, the more he wants that future with her. Yet Willa, so warm to her pupils, is ice-cool toward him. But where thereâs a woman like Willa, thereâs a man determined to guide her back to love.
âHave these children names?â
Willaâs reversion to the formal, polite tone called Matthew back to his purpose in coming. âYes, of course. This is Joshuaâheâs six years old and in first grade.â He smiled down at his nephew. âAnd this is Sally.â His niece pressed back against his legs. He placed his hands on her small, narrow shoulders and gave a reassuring squeeze. âSheâs five years old, and feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.â
The hem of the teacherâs gown whispered over the wide plank floor as she came to stand in front of them. She looked down and gave the children a warm, welcoming smile he wished were aimed at him. âHello, Joshua and Sally. Iâm your teacher, Miss Wright. Welcome to Oak Street School.â
Miss Wright. She was indeed. Matthew frowned and sucked in a breath, irritated by such whimsy. Miss Wright, with her narrow, aristocratic nose and small, square chin, was wreaking havoc with his normally sensible behavior. He was acting like a smitten schoolboy.
DOROTHY CLARK
Critically acclaimed, award-winning author Dorothy Clark lives in rural New York, in a home she designed and helped her husband build (she swings a mean hammer!) with the able assistance of their three children. When she is not writing, she and her husband enjoy traveling throughout the United States doing research and gaining inspiration for future books. Dorothy believes in God, love, family and happy endings, which explains why she feels so at home writing stories for Love Inspired Books. Dorothy enjoys hearing from her readers and may be contacted at [email protected].
The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
âPsalms 34:18
Books with historical settings require a great deal of time-consuming research. This book is dedicated with deep appreciation to Rhonda Shaner Pollock of the Portville Historical & Preservation Society for her gracious and unfailing help in uncovering details of a schoolmarmâs daily life
in a rural village in 1840. Thank you, Rhonda.
âCommit thy works unto the Lord,
and thy thoughts shall be established.â
Your Word is truth. Thank You, Jesus.
To You be the glory.
Chapter One
Pinewood Village, 1840
âHere we are. This is the schoolhouse.â Matthew Calvert looked from the small, white, frame building to his deceased brotherâs children. Joshua had on his âbraveâ face, which meant he was really afraid, and Sally looked about to cry. Please, Lord, donât let her cry. You know my heart turns to mush when she tears up. âEverything is going to be fine. Youâll make nice friends and have a good time learning new things.â
He placed his hands on the childrenâs backs and urged them up the steps to the small porch before they could resume their pleading to stay at home with him this first day in the new town. Their small bodies tensed, moved with reluctance.
He leaned forward and glanced in the open door. A slender woman was writing on a large slate at the far end of the room. The sunlight coming in a side window played upon the thick roll of chestnut-colored hair that coiled from one small ear across the nape of her neck to the other, and warmed the pale skin of a narrow wrist that was exposed by the movement of her sleeve cuff as she printed out a list of words. She looked neat and efficient. Please, God, let her also be kindhearted. He nudged his niece and nephew forward and stepped inside. âExcuse me.â
The teacher turned. Her gaze met his over the top of the double rows of bench desks and his heart jolted. He stared into blue-green eyes rimmed with long, black lashes, rendered speechless by an attraction so immediate, so strong, every sensible thought in his head disappeared.
The teacherâs gaze dropped to the children, then rose back to meet his. âGood morning, Reverend Calvert. Welcome to Pinewood.â
The formal tone of the teacherâs voice brought him to his senses. He broke off his stare and cleared his throat. âThank you. Iââ He focused his attention, gave her a questioning look. âHow did you know who I am?â