Free Second Chance Bride by Jane Myers Perrine

waved her hand. “Go on outside, and play for a few more minutes. I’m fine. Just a little tired and shaken. From the accident, you know.”
    “Yes, Miss Cunningham.” The two ran toward the door.
    The best teacher they’ve ever had? Annie collapsed in her chair, laughing so hard that tears of joy spilled down her face. For the first time in her life, she felt like the luckiest woman alive.
     
    On Wednesday, Annie sat on a bench in the shade of the twisted post oak trees and watched the children play. The students ran and hopped, laughing with the delight of the young. The sun reflected on Rose’s red braids and Frederick’s blond hair seemed to set those colors on fire. The last blossom of a blue mist flower that shown purple against its ashy green leaves drew her attention while a goldfinch sang te-dee-di-de.
    She smiled. She never thought she’d find herself in such a paradise. She’d lasted for six whole school days. She’d learned to print well and had just begun to work on cursive. Late at night, she’d puzzled through the stories in the first three readers, read several geography lessons and assigned poems for the upper levels to memorize. She was successfully teaching herself as she taught her students.
    “Miss Cunningham!” A shout interrupted her reverie.
    Annie leaped to her feet and ran in the direction of the voices where little Clara Sundholm lay on the ground. Annie kneeled next to the child.
    “What happened, Clara?”
    Tears rolled down the child’s face. “I fell down.” She pointed to a scrape on her knee.
    “Oh, sweetheart.” Annie wiped the child’s face with her handkerchief. Clara held her arms out. Startled, Annie picked up the girl who threw herself against her teacher’s neck and sobbed.
    “There, there.” She patted Clara on the back as the child cuddled against her. Annie had to squeeze back tears herself. The softness of the child and her utter trust opened something inside Annie. The reaction felt like ice melting. She felt a warmth and tenderness she remembered from her own mother’s hugs and she allowed the child’s affection to curl around her heart and embrace it tightly.
    She stood and carried Clara to the bench where she settled down with her. Little by little, the girl calmed down and with one last sob, fell asleep, her head against Annie’s shoulder.
    Annie looked down at the exhausted child. She gently rubbed Clara’s cheek with the back of her hand and softly sang a lullaby as she rocked the little girl.
    When the sound of hoofbeats intruded, she looked up to see a stranger approaching on a roan gelding.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Cunningham.” He pulled up his horse a few feet from her bench.
    All she could see was a thin face with a long, jagged scar across his cheek. Startled and a little frightened to be alone in the clearing with this unknown man and her students, she clutched Clara more tightly to her chest and turned to look for the other children.
    With slow grace, the man dismounted and stood beside her. “Who are you?” Annie demanded, fear making her forget her manners.
    “Didn’t mean to alarm you, ma’am. I’m Cole Bennett.” He took off his hat to show dark hair tied back with a strip of leather. “Sheriff Cole Bennett.”
    Of course. She recognized him from church.
    He nodded toward the bench. “May I sit down?”
    With a nod, she relaxed—but only a little. Yes, sheriffs were lawmen, but many were retired gunfighters, nothing more than hired hands for crooked ranchers.
    “Teacher.” Clara squirmed. “You’re holding me too tight.”
    “How are you, Clara?” He smiled at the child who lit up his gaunt face. He was a handsome man, despite the scar.
    “Hello, Sheriff.” The child looked down at her knee and then at the others playing in the grass. “I’m fine now. I want to play.” She jumped from Annie’s arms and dashed toward her friends.
    “I came by to introduce myself, ma’am.” He leaned forward on the bench. “To