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discussing the role of dreams in The Aeneid , and Charlie tried to focus on grading the quizzes before the end of the period. However, her mind kept trying towork through her marital choices again—as if she had more than one.
    Well, of course, there was another choice—she could simply let go of her property—but she loved her mother too much to do so.
    Too bad she’d been so proficient at annoying Royal in school. How was she supposed to know his pestering had been because he liked her and that annoying him back was interpreted as returned interest? And evidently he still liked her. Enough that, even though she’d flat-out refused his proposal last year, he thought stealing herthings and luring her ranch hands away would make her beg him to propose again.
    Because bankrupting a woman was evidently how a bully attempts to win a woman’s heart.
    Charlie cringed at the hole she’d scratched in someone’s paper by being too decisive at marking something wrong.
    Of course, reporting Royal to the sheriff would be useless. The lawman was related to the family, and she had no real proof anyway. And though he could steal away her hired hands, he wouldn’t be able to run off a husband. Though a jilted Royal might be meaner than a lovesick one.
    But then she’d struck on a genius plan. His brother August, although big and seemingly slow, was smart enough to calculate the worth of her miles of river-bottom land and had accepted her proposal. And one positive thing about the mean bunch of Whitakers—they looked out for kin above all else. They’d not let one brother destroy another.
    Marrying August meant she’d not lose the house her mother so desperately needed. Momma still made Daddy breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Still pulled his slippers from the bedroom closet and put them away at bedtime. Still bought him his cherrytobacco. Thankfully the store owner thought Charlie was unwomanly enough to have a chewing habit.
    The two times she’d tried to convince her mother Daddy was truly gone, she’d turned hysterical and quit eating for a week. Once Charlie gave in and started pretending her father was still alive—dirtying his old coffee mug, mussing his side of the bed—her mother started eating again.
    She’d already lost her father—she couldn’t bear having her mother trip headlong into insanity.
    Harrison’s hand patted her stack. “Are you done?”
    She blinked and looked around at the empty classroom. She still had several more to finish—how long had she stared off into space trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing?
    He must think her totally incompetent. The quizzes shouldn’t have taken her more than ten minutes. “No. I got lost in thought, but I’ll hurry.”
    She shouldn’t spend any more time alone with Harrison than necessary. August might get jealous.
    Oh, why did Harrison visit the farm last Sunday? And why was he as nice and kind as she remembered—well, before she outshot him anyway. No wonder Lydia had a crush on their teacher. He was patient and helpful and, as they said, quite gorgeous.
    Cash Whitaker.
    Wait. She stopped writing the grade atop the paper and looked at the student’s name again. “You have a Whitaker in this class?”
    â€œCash?”
    â€œYes.” She closed her eyes, hoping she was grading some other teacher’s quizzes.
    â€œHe sits by the second window.”
    She finished writing Cash’s ninety percent score and flipped the page over. No reason to panic. Cash likely cared little about the identity of his teacher’s temporary assistant.
    â€œUgh.” She pressed a hand against her stomach. She couldn’t ruin things with August. She had to keep her mother sane.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œJust school.” She rushed through the next student’s ten questions. “I don’t see any reason why someone would go