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“Yes. Yes, just fine. Thank you for the coffee.”
Priscilla stirred sugar into her tea. “Your son is very bright. In fact, he is at the top of my class, right below the high school students.”
There was no way she could miss the glow of pride on Mitch’s face.
“I sent a wire to my parents in Oklahoma asking them to send my college textbooks. I know it will be awhile before he’s ready for them, but I think he might get some use out of a couple of them now.” She raised her eyebrows. “Were you planning on college?”
“The money is already in the bank. We do believe in education here in the backwoods of Dogtown, you know.”
She tightened her lips. “That is not what I meant, and I do wish you would stop putting words into my mouth. I never said Dogtown was backwoods, and from what I’ve seen, most parents here are very interested in their children’s education. Maybe they’re not all thinking about education beyond high school, but that doesn’t mean they are stupid.”
He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you don’t think we’re stupid.”
Somewhat mollified, she removed her hand and took a sip of tea. “Thanksgiving is in a couple of weeks. Do you and Ian do anything special for the holiday?”
“We mostly spend it by ourselves. I cook a turkey, and Ian makes the potatoes and gravy. I usually buy a pie from Mrs. Gillis, the boardinghouse owner. She sells pies, cakes, and cookies around the holidays.”
Her eyes downcast, Priscilla drew small circles with her fingernail on the table. “Would you care to come here for Thanksgiving? I’ll even do the cooking if you supply the turkey.” She looked up and shrugged. “I have no idea where to get one here.”
She didn’t know why, but the idea of sharing a holiday meal with Mitch and Ian seemed the right thing to do. Of course, had he told her of plans that involved other people, she would have spent the day alone, catching up on school work. For all her desire to get away from an over enthusiastic family, the thought of being alone on a major holiday was depressing.
“There have been years when we were snowed in for Thanksgiving.”
“Really? Snow comes that early?”
“It sure does.” He leaned forward, as if sharing a confidence. “Yes, and there have been occasions when we are snowed in for weeks at a time.”
She leaned in. “Oh, my. And what does one do when snowed in for weeks?”
“Try to keep occupied.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
Priscilla swallowed and whispered, “What sort of occupation would keep one busy for weeks at a time?”
“I can think of lots of things to do snowed in for weeks.” His voice grew thick.
Priscilla stared into his eyes, wonderin
g what the heck she was doing. “Care to explain that, Mr. Beaumont?”
“In some cases, actions speak louder than words, Miss Cochran.” Leaning his elbows on the table, he cupped her cheeks and covered her mouth with his own. She felt the jolt all the way to her toes, which curled in her half boots. She’d never been truly kissed before now and was slightly annoyed that she’d grown to twenty years and never experienced the heady feeling of joining her mouth with another’s.
Mitch angled her head so he could go deeper into the cavern of her mouth. His tongue, tasting of coffee, skimmed over her gums, touching parts of her mouth she had no idea were sensitive. She moved closer and placed her hands on his warm face, feeling the slight bristle of a beard. It felt like sandpaper on her fingertips, and she wondered how it would feel against the sensitive skin of her neck.
His fingers slipped into her hair, bunching it in his fists as he assaulted her mouth. A slight moan filled the air between them, and she wasn’t even sure who had made the sound. Slowly he released her lips and sat back, his hands dropping to the table. She opened her eyes and stared at him.
He cleared his throat. “I think I better go.”
“Yes, I think that’s for the best.” She didn’t rise when he stood, just watched him from her chair, her fingertips touching her swollen lips.
What the hell did I just do?
Mitch strode from Priscilla’s house, taking deep breaths and trying desperately to get himself under control. He’d just kissed the new teacher like she was some sort of trollop. It had been obvious to him the very intelligent and sophisticated woman was a rank amateur in the game of kissing. But she was certainly a fast learner. He could very well have been the first man to kiss her.
Why the hell did that fill him with such a sense of male satisfaction? He had no designs on Priscilla. She was his son’s teacher, a woman far above him in life, who would return to her parents’ cozy home as soon as she grew tired of playing school. A game the girls he’d known growing up played all the time.
If he’d thought it was best to stay far away from her before now, after this disaster he was tempted to pack up and leave town himself.
Thanksgiving Day arrived with bright blue skies, cold crisp air, and a possible hint of snow in the near future. Mitch had purchased the turkey for their feast, and at Priscilla’s request, had it sent over from the Gray’s Farm yesterday. Now all he had to do was pick up the pumpkin pie at the boarding house and take the short walk to Priscilla’s. She had insisted on doing everything else herself.
