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"More than acceptable. Let's plan to leave at first Ught."

  "I'm going to have Su Li ask one of her cousins if she wants the job of housekeeper in the town house so the house will stay clean. I don't like musty-smelling bedding."

  '*You don't like staying in town anymore, do you?"

  "No, I don't. Later, I imagine that will change. I'm very contented right where I am, doing what I want to do. I have good employees at the bingo palace, so I don't have to worry about my little business. I'm never going to give that up. I might open another one if business calls for it. The town house is just a convenience. It is a long trip to town, even in the car, and I miss my friends sometimes. I like going to church on Sunday. My life will be settled soon, and, when that happens, I want to be ready to make . . . important decisions."

  "You have the right attitude, Sallie. This might be a good time for me to compliment you. I'm usually fairly stingy with compliments. Before I give them I want to be sure in my own mind that they're deserved. You've done so well, Sallie. What I feel for your dedication goes beyond the word proud. You have worked like a Trojan. You're doing well in all your subjects, but you excel in mathematics. At first that surprised me, but then I started to think. You said Mr. Easter started your education with numbers, and later he taught you to write and read a httie. I beheve it's what you start out with first. You had a real interest in numbers because you dealt with money." He chuckled when he said, "Now you have even more money, and it's paramount that you learn how to take care of and protect your fortune. Don't depend on other people to do that for you, Sallie. At all times you need to know where you stand in regard to your finances."

  "When will we be getting to that part?"

  '*We'll start on finances in a small way after Easter vacation. By this time next year you'll be ready if you keep progressing as you are."

  "A whole year!" SaUie cried in dismay.

  "Do you want to do it right, or do you want a slipshod course? If you don't understand what it is you're doing, you could make a costly mistake that will cost you thousands of dollars. Is that what you want? Understand also that I am by no means a financier. I understand the stock market, and I know a littie about investments. However, I'm not an authority. You might want to have Mr. Waring engage someone in that particular field to help you. We don't need to think about that right now. We're on vacation."

  "All right, Philip."

  "Let's wash up and see what Anna has prepared for dinner. If you aren't too tired, might I suggest a game of checkers after dinner. No cheating!"

  "Philip, a lady does not cheat at any kind of gaming."

  "You do! I caught you three times in a row!"

  "That's the way I play. It wasn't cheating. I simply changed my mind."

  "You see! That's exacdy my point. I tried teaching you the correct way, but you didn't have the patience. Oh, no, you thought you could do it your way. Well, your way was wrong, and you cheated."

  "It wasn't intentional."

  "Is that going to be your response when you make a big mistake in the stock market? After you lose your money?"

  "I don't want to talk about this, Philip."

  "That's good because I don't want to talk about it, either. What you need to do is think about it. I want you to do everything right. I know you have convictions and opinions, but if they aren't right, where does that leave you?"

  "Having the last word, Philip. I'll see you at supper."

  It was late, and the night was cold and brittle. Either he'd eaten too much at dinner, or he v/as about to come down with his yearly winter cold. Standing here at the window in his bare feet, staring at Sallie Coleman's bedroom window, certainly wasn't helping matters. The fire in the grate had burned low some time ago, and he hadn't replenished it. He did so now, his thoughts on Sallie and the light in her window. He was admost certain she was studying even though she'd given him her promise not to.

  Sallie's obsession and her progress had starded him on a daily basis. When he finally realized she was carrying her studies far into the night, getting by on only a few hours' sleep, he tried everything he could to slow her down, but she was having none of his amusing chatter and caricature drawings. "You're here to teach me, Philip, and I'm here to learn. Don't be drawing pictures of how you think I look. It doesn't amuse me at all. All we're doing is wasting time."

  Suddenly it was important to him to find out if Sallie had broken her promise and was studying. He ignored the cold evening, bundled up, and marched downstairs and out the door of his small cottage. He knew exacdy where Joseph kept his ladders. He felt like a sneak, a Peeping Tom, when he quiedy leaned the ladder against the house. Shivering, he climbed the flat rungs until he was able to peer into the room. He saw Sallie dozing, her head drooping into the crook of her arm. By squinting, he was able to see that she had been studying lessons that would begin after the New Year holiday.

  According to his calculations, she'd been up here since supper, which meant she'd been studying for six hours.

  The urge to put his fist through the windowpane was so strong, Philip bit down on his lower Up and tasted his own blood. What he really wanted to do was open the window, crawl in, and gather Sal-he in his arms and tell her. . . what? That he was falling in love with her, that he was concerned for her health? She'd tell him straight out to mind his own business. She might even laugh, that wonderful tinkling sound that sent goose bumps up and down his arms. So many times he wanted to say certain things to her, but her frosty gaze sadd, this is business, I want you to teach me and nothing more. Besides, how could he take care of her? She probably had more money than King Midas. She could spend more money on a dress than he earned in four months. He groaned v^th the thought, his foot slipping on the rung of the ladder. As he sHd to the ground, the ladder toppling over, he heard SaUie scream. Oh, hell, was his last conscious thought before he hit the shrubbery that surrounded the house. Moments later, Sallie, Su Li, and Chue were standing over him, blankets draping their shoulders.

  "PhHip!" SaUie gasped.

  "You broke your promise," Philip snarled, outraged that he'd been caught spying on his employer.

  "Are you hurt? You were spying on me, Philip Thornton! That's despicable! I knew I'd get to use that word one day. I should fire you right now."

  He was on his feet, but shaky. "Maybe you should! You gave me your word. Which just goes to show I can't trust you. I can pack my bags and be out of here in an hour. And, before you even think of asking how I'll get to town, I'll walk. You can mail my wages to Mr. Waring." He wanted to stomp off, but the pain in his ankle only allowed for a limping walk.

  "Bring Philip into the house, Chue, so we can look at his ankle," Scillie said. "If he's going to walk to town, he's going to need a stout brace. It's a long walk." God in heaven, did she really say that?

  What would she do without Philip? She trusted him. They got along well together. He never poked fun at her, never made her feel inferior. How would she fare with another teacher? What if she got a tart-tongued older woman with no patience? Phihp had the patience of a saint.

  Inside the warm kitchen Su Li busded about, boiling water and

  mixing a poultice while Chue settled Philip on one of the kitchen chairs. He looked to Sallie for instructions.

  "What should we do, Philip?" she asked quietly. He was, after all, the teacher.

  "An apology would be a nice place to start. I twisted my ankle is all. Wrapping it tighdy should work. I expect my bones will ache for a few days. I'll be off your property as soon as my ankle is wrapped."

  "But you said if I apologize—"

  "I said it was a good place to start. I didn't say I would stay. I can't trust you anymore. How many times did I tell you that a person's promise or that person's word is a measure of who that person is? You ignored the most important lesson in life, Sallie Coleman."

  Sallie felt shaken to her soul. He had said that many times. She didn't want him to leave. She looked forward to waking and seeing him at the brealdast table
. She loved spending the day with him, loved the crinkly smile in his dark eyes when she did something right. "I'm sorry, Philip."

  "No you aren't. Sorry is just a word to you. You're wondering if tears will change my mind. Well, they won't, so don't bother."

  "Why are you being so cruel to me?"

  Because I think Pm falling in love with you. "I'm not being cruel. You want to believe that I am. What just happened is a lesson I taught you, gave you the opportunity to put it to use, and you failed the test. I guess I'm not a very good teacher after all."

  "Oh, that's not true, Philip. You are the best teacher. You taught me so much. I'm sorry, truly sorry, that I failed the test. I know you're right. I'm wrong. It's just—"

  "I don't want an excuse, Sallie."

  "What the hell do you want?"

  I want you to run your fingers through my hair. Iwantyou to kiss me. I want you to whisper words in my ears, sweet words, words we both understarui. "What I want is for you to tell me what you did wrong. Telling is one thing, understanding what you did is something else. Ladies don't curse."

  "I never said I was a damn lady. You insist on calling me one. I don't give a hoot about being a lady. Get that straight, M£y^Thornton. What I did wrong was promise you I would put my lessons aside. I broke that promise. It was wrong of me to do that. I thought . . . what I wanted to do was ... go forward so that . . . when we started our lessons again, I would be familiar with what you were. . . I wanted you to be proud of me. I like it when you tell me I do good

  ... well. I really am sorry. I won't do it again, Philip. I will never, ever, break a promise to you. To anyone."

  Philip smiled wearily. "That's good enough."

  "Then you'll stay?" The rehef Sallie felt was so overwhelming she grew feint.

  "Can I believe this promise?"

  "Yes, Phihp."

  "Then if you don't mind, I think I'll hobble on home and go to bed."

  '*You won't leave in the middle of the night, will you?"

  "This is the middle of the night, SaUie. I promise you, I will not leave. You can trust my word."

  Tears brimmed in Sallie's eyes. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. She watched as Chue offered his shoulder for the short walk back to Philip's cottage.

  Upstairs in her room Sallie undressed for bed, tears rolling down her cheeks. She swiped at them with the sleeve of her nightgown. Her shoulders shaking, she walked over to the desk. Sallie stared down at her open book, at the pile of books and notebooks at the end of the desk. The cup of f)encils and pens glared at her like a sin-^e malevolent eye. Sniffling, she closed her book, placed it on top of the stack of books. She piled the notebooks and tablets next to them. The last thing she did was push her chair under the desk. She wouldn't sit on the chair or open any of the books until Philip said it was time to resume her lessons.

  Sallie thought about Philip and how fond she'd grown of him in the nearly five months he'd worked with her. Sweet, gentle Philip, who always had a smile for her even when her work was less than perfect. How many times he would smile and say, "Let's try that s^ain, SaUie." Then he would smile ^ain and praise her and say, "Perhaps I didn't explain it clearly enough," or something to that effect. She'd repaid that kindness and gendeness by deliberately ignoring his instructions. He was right about needing a break from her lessons. He was right about everything.

  She climbed into bed, but sleep did not come. Only thoughts of Phihp. Her heart thumped in her chest as she recalled how she felt when she heard Phihp say he was leaving. Was it possible she was falling in love with Phihp Thornton?

  In the morning she put on a wool dress the color of ripe cranberries. She knew she looked fashionable with her matching shoes and purse. Phihp would compliment her—^he always complimented

  her when her hair looked particularly nice or she had on a new dress. Her wool coat was long with a ftir collar and cuffs and nipped in the middle to show off her tiny waist. In the lamplight the color of her coat took on the look of burnished copper. She stuffed soft leather gloves the same color as her coat into one of the deep pockets.

  In the kitchen, Su Li was making coffee. Sallie could see flapjacks bubbling on the griddle. A pot of blackberry jam sat in the middle of the table next to a crock of butter that was the exact color of spring daffodils. The coffee smelled heavenly.

  "I was going to make my own breakfast, Su Li. You have to get ready for the trip. I don't think Mr. Thornton will be going with us."

  Sallie walked over to the window to stare at Philip's cottage. All the windows were dark. She felt like crying.

  Sallie stared at her full plate, at the thick syrup Su Li was pouring over her flapjacks. Suddenly her appetite was gone.

  "Missy eat," Su Li said sternly.

  Sallie cut a portion of the stack of flapjacks, then cut them again the way Philip had instructed her. She forced herself to eat daintily, the way he had taught her. What was it he had said? Oh, yes, ladies always walk away from the table with room in their stomachs. "Not this lady," had been her response. She'd gone on to clarify the statement by saying she would never, ever, be hungry again. If that meant she wasn't a lady, so be it. She pushed her plate away.

  "Leave the dishes for Anna, Su Li. Make sure you bundle up, it's cold this morning."

  Su Li pointed to the thick quilted jacket next to her sack of belongings.

  "I'm going to buy you a long coat so your legs don't get cold. Would you like that, Su Li?"

  "Like very much, missy. Time to go."

  "Yes, it's time to go." By moving her chair to the left, Sallie was able to see through the kitchen window. The view was the same as it was when she'd looked out earlier. No soft yellow light glowed in Philip's windows.

  "Missy look pretty," Su Li said, as Sallie setded a fur-trimmed, copper-colored hat over her blond curls.

  "Thank you, Su Li. I think I'm going to get you a red coat. With your dark hair you'll look gorgeous in red. A red hat, too." Su Li smiled widely.

  Outside, Sallie blew litde puffs of air from her mouth. She burst out laughing as Su Li tried to imitate her.

  "Climb in, Su Li. Use the lap robe over your legs. Ready?"

  "Ready," Su Li said.

  Sallie backed the car out of the bam. She switched on the headlights. Outlined in the piercing glow was Philip Thornton. He brandished a cane and shouted, "I hope you were planning on blowing that horn of yours. You know, I am a little incapacitated."

  "Philip! How wonderful that you're coming. You are, aren't you?" Sallie said breathlessly.

  "I promised, didn't I? I believe this trip was my idea to begin with. Of course I'm coming. May I say you ladies look particularly lovely this morning."

  "You may say that." Sallie laughed. "Get in! We're going Christmas shopping! I never went Christmas shopping before."

  Five minutes later Sallie took her eyes off the road for a moment to look across at Philip.

  "PhiHp, I'm sor—"

  "SaUie, I'm sor—"

  Sallie thought she saw something strange in Philip's eyes, something she'd never seen before. Something wonderful, something she wanted to see more of A slow rising heat crawled up through her body as her gaze swept back to the road.

  Philip leaned back against the leather seat. What was that scorching look he'd just seen in Sallie Coleman's eyes? Certainly not anger. He blinked when the word passion skittered through his mind. He coughed to cover his confusion. He knew he should be saying something, but for the first time in his life, words failed him.

  SaUie smiled. Her world was right side up. She wanted to look at Philip again, wanted to see that strange look, wanted to know if it meant what she thought it meant. Instead, she focused on the road.

  A lot could happen over the holidays.

  1924

  PhiUp Thornton's voice was brisk, professional-sounding. "Date your paper with the new year at the top. Today is Monday, January 7, 1924." His voice was also chilly.

  Sallie blinked at her teacher's tone. The te
nsion was palpable. Had she done something wrong? What a silly thought. Philip had gone to town the day after Christmas and just returned late last evening. The last time she'd seen him was at dinner on Christmas day. The day he had kissed her under the misdetoe.

  "There's no excuse for bad manners, Mister Thornton. You teU me that at least once a week. You could have told me you were going away. I realize you need time to yourself A note would have been sufficient. I can read, you know." Sallie lowered her eyes and commenced writing.

  "You're absolutely right, there is no excuse for bad manners. I apologize."

  "I think your apology might mean more if you made it sound like you meant it. As far as I'm concerned, you just said words with no meaning. Sorry is merely a word that many people use at their convenience. Aren't those your exact words. Mister Thornton?"

  "Again, you are absolutely right. For now it's the best I can do."

  "It's not good enough. You're supposed to set an example. If I were the teacher, I'd take away all your gold stars."

  Philip blanched. "I want a short essay on the meaning of Christmas. I'm going to grade you on your penmanship and your punctuation as well as content. Be aware of your commas. When you finish go right into the new year, set down your aspirations and your goals for this year. I want five hundred words in the essay. Begin."

  He saw her eyes fill with tears before she lowered her gaze to the paper in front of her. He knew he'd get an excellent paper worthy of perhaps two gold stars. She would have no need of him after the summer months. Six months more at this house, and then he'd be heading back to Boston.

  Philip thought about his week in town, about the hours he'd spent in Sallie's bingo palace listening to her employees extol her virtues, listening to the wild, wicked stories the patrons insisted on repeating for his benefit. One night he heard seven different versions of how and why Sallie acquired her immense wealth, none of them pleasing to his ears. He'd wandered the streets in the cold that night until he finally stopped at the Red Ruby brothel. Everything was a blur after that. The only thing he knew for certain was he'd stayed at the Red Ruby for four days. Last night he'd had a nightmare about all the fleshy, big-breasted women who'd paraded into his room. He'd had them all. At least Red Ruby said he did when she demanded payment on his departure.