Carol Ritten Smith Read Free Page A

gentle autumn breeze.
    She looked down. The class had moved forward again. “Everyone back!” she commanded. “I don’t want you hurt if I fall.”
    She inched out along the limb. It creaked under her weight. She carefully shifted herself further along and stretched forward with her arm. The bonnet was at least ten inches out of reach. If she just budged a little bit more … Suddenly the branch dropped six inches and Beth nearly fell.
    The girls below screamed.
    “It’s okay. I’m fine.” Beth wondered if she was reassuring herself or her students. She decided it was unsafe to continue and started back down. “The branch isn’t strong enough,” she explained. A short wispy stem caught a strand of her hair and pulled it from the tidy knot at the back of her head.
    “Still looking for Cally, Miss Patterson?” a deep voice asked.

Chapter 2
    Lord love a duck! Beth looked down through the branches. There stood Tom Carver, his head cocked back, gazing up at her. He sported an exceptionally wide smile. Beth could only imagine how she must look with her petticoats draped on either side of the branch, her hair a mess. She scrambled down from the tree.
    “That was a pretty sight.”
    Beth glanced to see if any of her students overheard his comment. She couldn’t tell. “Mr. Carver. A gentleman would have averted his eyes.”
    “I tell you what, the next time you’re up a tree, I promise to look away.” He grinned.
    She wondered how many times he had used his swarthy good looks to get out of trouble. Well, it wouldn’t wash with her! “The wind carried Penelope’s hat into the tree. I was merely trying to retrieve it for her.”
    “Seems to me, you might do better if you were wearing those britches again,” he said in a low voice.
    The nerve of him! “Mr. Carver,” she retorted, her whisper seething with outrage, “it is none of your business what clothes I do or do not wear.”
    Tom shook his head. “Oh, trust me, Miss Patterson, if you chose to wear no clothes, I’d make it my business.”
    Beth gasped and hot color poured into her cheeks. How dare he be so crass, once again warping her words into something crude! She presented her back to him and clapped her hands. “Children, lunch break is over.”
    “But what about my hat?” Penelope cried.
    “You will just have to wait for the wind to bring it down.”
    Tom tipped his head back to peer through the leafy branches. “I haven’t climbed a tree in a long time … oh, what the heck! I’ll give it a go.” He whipped off his leather blacksmith apron and dropped it in the brittle grass. Stepping up to the maple’s trunk, he reached high above his head for a secure hold and started climbing. He rapidly ascended the maple and moved along the branch beyond the point where Beth had stopped. It groaned under his weight, but dropped no further.
    Beth hoped the branch would break. Nothing would please her more than to see that scoundrel flat on his back. But the branch held and with the agility of a cougar Tom stretched out on the limb and retrieved the bonnet, then descended with it perched at a jaunty angle upon his head. He jumped the last few feet to the ground, removed the bonnet, and bowed low. The children applauded exuberantly.
    “You just have to know how to distribute your weight properly.” Tom turned the hat over and inspected its plumage. “If you ask me, this thing looked more at home in the tree. Surely women don’t wear hats like this. Those feathers would make any person look bird-brained.”
    Several boys snickered. Beth snatched the hat from Tom and handed it to Penelope. “Mr. Carver, this bonnet is of the latest fashion back East. All proper women wear them.”
    “Yeah? Judging by your get-up the other night, I guess you would know.”
    It took a great deal of restraint to resist kicking him in the shin. “If you will excuse me, I have classes to teach.” She marched to the school steps. “Come along, children. Line up,