Read Online Taboo Love in the West Part 1: A Heart Off-Limits (Wild West Adventures in Love Book 3) by Ella Camsen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ella Camsen
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small selection of books her father had brought with them, having consulted the oracle of the Sunday School Library Catalogue of the Boston Church of the Redeemer. He had been determined that the children here would have plenty of books, and Eliza herself had brought treasured copies of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer , Alice in Wonderland: Through the Looking Glass, Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea and The Little House Books of Laura Ingalls Wilder, which she loved with a passion, describing as they did lives such as hers as people learned to adjust to difficult new circumstances.
She taught the children of the town three mornings a week, and their parents in the afternoons and evenings. To ensure she had a never ending supply of wonderful books that were suitable for both her older and younger students, she joined a postal book club that sent her a new book every month, though being in Oacoma this often meant that three or four all arrived at once after a few months with no new reading materials. Her days were busy but full of satisfaction and achievement as she saw her students’ progress and blossom from the benefits of their education. In the townspeople the ability to read and write opened up new opportunities for trade and co-operation – having a common language, rather than trying to get by in the vast ranges of French, German, English, and even Dutch dialects made things much more peaceful in the town too; less misunderstandings made for fewer brawls. On the reservation she saw the younger people come to realise that not all white men were bad, and though the older members of the tribe learnt well she felt they were there grudgingly and still held on to their justifiable prejudices and fears that this was another way for the White Man to take even more from them. But the children offered the hope of a more peaceful future some day.
But, though she hated to admit it, the thing she most looked forward to in her week was the time she spent with Amitola. He was so gentle and good, so patient with the children, and so steeped in the wisdom and lore of his people, but yet could still see the benefits of working together with the white men. She counted the hours until she could be with him again, and wished that the minutes would drag on forever when she was in his presence. She would often find herself thinking about him too much as she drove the buggy, and would veer off the roads in a daydream. Today she had managed to steer a clear course and pulled up outside of her favourite school room to see him standing awaiting their arrival. No matter how many times she had tried to catch him out by being early, he was always here waiting for them. She wished so much that it was because he cared for her, but she knew that it was to ensure the school’s success. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that a single kiss taken in a moment of madness meant anything more than that.
“Miss Gillespie, Emmeline?” His warm and silken voice broke her reverie as he took the reins from her hands and secured them to the hitching post. She shuddered lightly at the accidental brush of his hand on hers. It was so warm, and she suddenly felt cold all over. She shivered. “Are you well? You look a little pale today.” He was so observant and so infuriatingly courteous always as he helped both of them down from the buggy.
“I am just a little tired. There was a travelling theatre troop that performed a fabulous play for us in the Kicking Horse’s brand new theatre last night. It finished late but it was worth it,” she said, smiling at him a little shyly. Emmeline nodded her agreement. Eliza could kick herself. It didn’t seem to matter how much time she spent in his presence, she was always a little nervous, with butterflies in her stomach that threatened to take away her words and her breath all at once. She knew that Emmeline was aware of it, and was being kind enough not to say anything to her or anyone else, but
She taught the children of the town three mornings a week, and their parents in the afternoons and evenings. To ensure she had a never ending supply of wonderful books that were suitable for both her older and younger students, she joined a postal book club that sent her a new book every month, though being in Oacoma this often meant that three or four all arrived at once after a few months with no new reading materials. Her days were busy but full of satisfaction and achievement as she saw her students’ progress and blossom from the benefits of their education. In the townspeople the ability to read and write opened up new opportunities for trade and co-operation – having a common language, rather than trying to get by in the vast ranges of French, German, English, and even Dutch dialects made things much more peaceful in the town too; less misunderstandings made for fewer brawls. On the reservation she saw the younger people come to realise that not all white men were bad, and though the older members of the tribe learnt well she felt they were there grudgingly and still held on to their justifiable prejudices and fears that this was another way for the White Man to take even more from them. But the children offered the hope of a more peaceful future some day.
But, though she hated to admit it, the thing she most looked forward to in her week was the time she spent with Amitola. He was so gentle and good, so patient with the children, and so steeped in the wisdom and lore of his people, but yet could still see the benefits of working together with the white men. She counted the hours until she could be with him again, and wished that the minutes would drag on forever when she was in his presence. She would often find herself thinking about him too much as she drove the buggy, and would veer off the roads in a daydream. Today she had managed to steer a clear course and pulled up outside of her favourite school room to see him standing awaiting their arrival. No matter how many times she had tried to catch him out by being early, he was always here waiting for them. She wished so much that it was because he cared for her, but she knew that it was to ensure the school’s success. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that a single kiss taken in a moment of madness meant anything more than that.
“Miss Gillespie, Emmeline?” His warm and silken voice broke her reverie as he took the reins from her hands and secured them to the hitching post. She shuddered lightly at the accidental brush of his hand on hers. It was so warm, and she suddenly felt cold all over. She shivered. “Are you well? You look a little pale today.” He was so observant and so infuriatingly courteous always as he helped both of them down from the buggy.
“I am just a little tired. There was a travelling theatre troop that performed a fabulous play for us in the Kicking Horse’s brand new theatre last night. It finished late but it was worth it,” she said, smiling at him a little shyly. Emmeline nodded her agreement. Eliza could kick herself. It didn’t seem to matter how much time she spent in his presence, she was always a little nervous, with butterflies in her stomach that threatened to take away her words and her breath all at once. She knew that Emmeline was aware of it, and was being kind enough not to say anything to her or anyone else, but
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