Second Chance Bride. Jane Perrine Myers

like a completely different man out here at dawn, riding as if nothing else existed in the world.

      “Hello. You’re up early this morning.” When he reached her, he dismounted with a fluid motion and smiled.

      He wore denim trousers, scuffed boots and plaid shirt, which was quite a contrast to his usual attire. She sensed an ease she hadn’t noticed when he wore his proper suit and polished shoes. He was, without a doubt, the handsomest man she’d ever seen. But, of course, handsome men could be the meanest, the roughest and most demanding—

      She stopped her train of thought. John was not a customer, and she was no longer in a brothel. She studied his face, his usually stern features softer somehow, more open.

      “I like to walk in the morning. And I love to be outdoors,” she explained.

      Holding the reins of his horse with one hand, he nodded his head. “I do, too. I don’t get out nearly as much as I’d like.”

      “Why don’t you spend more time riding?”

      “I’m the town banker. Telling my depositors that I’d rather be with Orion—” he rubbed the horse’s nose with one hand “—they’re not going to be happy with me.”

      With a sliver of a smile that charmed Annie against her will, he added, “That’s why I get up early and ride for an hour. The pleasure lasts me all day.”

      “It looks so easy for you. When did you start riding?”

      “Since I could stay on a saddle. Anyone who lives on a ranch has to.” After a moment he said, “If I remember correctly, you ride also.”

      Annie gulped and wished she could read the letters Matilda had written so she’d at least know what she should be able to do. “Oh, no. I hardly—”

      “Surely you’re too modest. You listed some competitions you’d participated in.”

      Before she could reply, the rising sun caught his eye, and he glanced up before turning away to put his foot in the stirrup. “Excuse me. It’s time for me to go home for breakfast with Elizabeth. She expects me to be on time.”

      He mounted, then looked down at her. For a moment, his gaze met hers and stayed there. Again, that trace of a smile emerged and delighted her, making her want to smile back, although she could not interpret the meaning hidden in his expression.

      After a few seconds, she realized who and where she was and lowered her eyes to break their connection.

      “Matilda, if you will excuse me?” He nodded at her and turned his horse, riding back down into the valley.

      As soon as he was gone, she felt a little cooler in the morning breeze. Well, if that wasn’t absolutely ridiculous. She shook her head and reminded herself she was the schoolteacher, not a foolish ninny. John was the banker, the member of the school board who supervised her, and the father of one of her students. If she were to let her barriers down, if she could truly believe that a man wouldn’t hurt her—if, if, if. That would never happen. She couldn’t allow it.

      Nonetheless, she’d watched him ride toward his ranch until he’d disappeared into the trees. Still she stood there, long after he’d disappeared, stunned at how glorious the sight of him had been.

      Chapter Four

      “Good morning, Miss Cunningham!” Elizabeth shouted, and waved when her father stopped his surrey in front of the schoolhouse Sunday morning, a clear, slightly chilly day. Annie waved back as she walked toward them.

      “Good morning,” John said with a slight bow as he got out to help her into the backseat next to Elizabeth.

      A perfectly normal action for a gentleman, Annie told herself. No reason to feel awkward when he was only steadying her to get in the surrey. On the one hand, she still fought the urge to pull away from him when he reached for her. On the other, she could not stop admiring him. She wanted to believe he wasn’t like the men who’d taken advantage of her for years, many of whom were leaders in Weaver City, men of high standing. Was John different?

      Forcing herself to relax, Annie said, “Good morning to you both. What a lovely morning. Such lovely sunshine.” She settled on the soft leather seat and ran her hand across the smooth, cool surface, watching John’s back as he clicked the reins. Although looking like a pillar of the community in his black suit and hat, Annie remembered the man she’d met on the meadow, the one who rode so hard and so fast, she thought no one in the county could beat him. Here now, he acted somber and upright. But she knew what he was like on his horse early in the morning. She’d wanted to laugh with that man, entranced by the joy that emanated from him, by the excitement that lit up his eyes.

      It was his eyes that gave him away. When they were chilly and grayish, he was Mr. John Matthew Sullivan, banker and father. When they were blue and sparkled with laughter, he was John, a man who seemed to love life.

      “It’s nice today, Miss Cunningham, but it will get cold shortly. November is not a warm month here. Oh, have you seen the lazy S?” Elizabeth pointed to a gate on the south side of the road. “That’s the Hanson Ranch. You’ve met Miss Hanson, haven’t you?”

      Annie nodded as she looked at the sign. How odd. The readers she’d studied showed the letter S standing straight up, but on the sign over the gate, the S lay on its side. Perhaps that was the way an S was made in Texas. Yes, that must be the reason. Did all states have slightly different alphabets? She’d have to practice the Texas S on its side this evening.

      “That’s why Mr. Hanson wants my father to marry his daughter.”

      Annie’s head jerked up, and she looked at John’s back. His shoulders became rigid. “Because Mr. Hanson owns the lazy S?” she asked.

      “Yes, because their land and our land are so close that it could be just one big ranch,” Elizabeth explained.

      “I believe you have said enough about private matters, Elizabeth.” His voice held a chilly note.

      “But, Father, this isn’t private. Everyone in Trail’s End knows.”

      “Elizabeth Celeste Sullivan, please do not say anymore.”

      “Yes, Father. I’m sorry.” She sat silently on the seat next to Annie, dejected.

      “Why don’t you tell me about the church, Elizabeth?” That seemed like a safe topic.

      The little girl brightened. “Our minister, Reverend Thompson, rides the circuit, so he’s in Trail’s End only one Sunday a month. He’s here today. The elders lead the service on the other Sundays. My father’s an elder,” she said proudly. She filled the few minutes it took to get into town with information about the church service and all the members but did not mention Miss Hanson again.

      As they approached the small white building, Annie realized she’d correctly identified the church on her first evening in town. Once inside, she noticed five rows of pews on each side with a stove in the middle. A small table with a wooden cross graced the front of the building. Thirty people sat in the church, including her students and their families. They nodded at the Sullivans and Annie when they entered. She didn’t recognize a family with three large boys but guessed that they must be the Bryans.

      Elizabeth guided Annie to a pew in the front of the sanctuary and then stepped aside so Annie could precede her. John sat on the other side of his daughter. Shortly after their arrival, Amanda and a stout gray-haired man Annie guessed to be her father entered and sat across the aisle.

      “Look, there’s the sheriff,” Elizabeth whispered when the door closed and a thin, dark man slipped into the back pew just as the minister came to the podium in the front.

      “Because we have no organist, I will lead the singing this morning. Let us open the hymnal to number fifty-two.”

      John handed her an open hymnal. There was no music on the page, only words in very small letters. She attempted to read them but the congregation had finished