The Teacher's Mail Order Bride (15 page)

M
ichael locked
the door to the school house, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking slowly toward the boarding house. He’d stayed as late as he could after school had ended, rolling over in his mind just how he might explain all of this to Margery. And then, how he’d explain it to Rose, and convince her to reconsider.

His fingers found his mother’s watch, and he ran his thumb over the inscription that he’d memorized by now, and his mother’s words flashed through his memory.

He knew in his heart that the watch—a symbol of his love—belonged to Rose, not Margery and he somehow had to make this right.

As he turned the corner, shuffling his feet along the boardwalk, Margery jumped up from the bench outside. Her fan flicked as she picked up her skirts and came to greet him, her smile fading as she approached and she stopped just before she reached him, her fan dropping to her side.

“What is it, Michael? You look as though your best friend just died.”

Michael pursed his lips. There was never going to be a time when this would be easy. He straightened his shoulders and said, “Margery, I need to have a word with you. Shall we step in here and have a cup of tea?”

He gestured toward Mr. Bailey’s restaurant and when she nodded slowly, he opened the door for her, following her inside. Mr. Bailey smiled and waved, gesturing to a table by the window. Michael pulled out a chair for Margery and helped her scoot in.

“I realize we just met yesterday, Michael, but I’m fairly certain that whatever it is you want to talk about can’t be good,” Margery said after Michael had ordered tea and a piece of pie from Mr. Bailey.

Michael took his hat off and sat it on the chair between them. He ran his hands through his hair and leaned forward, his elbows on the table as his eyes met Margery’s.

He sighed and reached for her hand. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology, Margery. I can’t marry you.”

She stiffened, sitting straight in her chair as she jerked her hand back. “What...how...I don’t understand. Why did you send for me?” She blanched and stared at him.

Michael had never felt like such a failure. He glanced out the window, not quite sure how to explain, and he blinked as Rose crossed the street right outside the window and ducked into the mercantile across the street.

Margery followed his gaze and her eyes narrowed. “It’s her, isn’t it? That Rose person.”

Michael jerked his eyes back to Margery, his pulse quickening. “Well...I...”

She sighed, dropping her chin into her hand as her elbow rested on the table, and she slapped her fan down next to her fork.

“I knew it. I just knew it.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose, and he sat back in his chair. “What do you mean? How did you know?”

She picked up and opened her fan, a rueful smile on her lips. With a small laugh, she said, “It was plain as the nose on your face when we were introduced at the restaurant. And the way you kept looking over at their table. I knew it was one of those Archer girls. I just didn’t know which one until later.”

“What do you mean, later?”

Margery’s fan moved faster as she turned and looked out the window. Her eyes misted and she turned back to Michael. “Once I knew your heart belonged to someone else, I panicked. I’ve come a very long way, Michael. I’ve left my home. I’m afraid I behaved badly.”

His heart clenched and he couldn’t swallow the lump in his throat. What had she done? And when? “I’m sorry that I gave you cause for alarm. I’d really appreciate knowing what you did.”

Margery closed the fan and set it on the table, looking down at her hands. She sighed and looked up. “I thought maybe Rose was the one, and when we were in the mercantile, I confirmed it.”

Michael took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Margery, please tell me how.”

“I’m not particularly proud of myself, Michael, but I didn’t know what else to do. I can’t go back to St. Louis.”

“We can talk about that in a moment, but please tell me what happened with Rose.”

Margery squirmed in her seat a bit and looked around the room. “When we were at the mercantile, I told her that you’d told me that you’d known at first sight that I was the one for you, and that you couldn’t be happier.”

“You what?”

She held up a hand. “I might as well tell you all of it. I also told her that we were getting married next week and looking for a nice, cozy house. For our family.”

Michael groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. “You didn’t.”

Margery shifted in her seat again as she wrung her hands. “I didn’t know what else to do. I told you, I can’t go back to St. Louis.”

“Please, just a moment. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for all of this. I just didn’t know when I sent for you that I’d fall in love in the meantime. Never crossed my mind as even a possibility.”

“Well, I know how that works. I don’t like it much, but I do understand,” Margery said as she patted his hand.

He nodded. “I fully expect to continue paying your expenses for room and board while you investigate other options. I wouldn’t consider anything different.”

Her eyes misted as she looked out the window. “Thank you for that, Michael. I’ll do my best to make it work. Maybe go ask Suzanne if there might be someone else out here looking for a wife.”

She smiled—a beautiful smile, really—and Michael hoped that she would find someone to be happy with. Just as he intended to be with Rose.

R
ose fidgeted in her seat
—one of the student desks in the schoolroom—as the school board members straggled in. She and Suzanne had moved chairs to the front of the room in preparation, and they slowly took their positions.

Looking at her paper, she realized how much she’d learned in the past few weeks. What she thought was going to be just a volunteer position to help children learn had become much more—so much more that she felt her heart might burst. Between meeting Michael and learning what she had about children who couldn’t come to school, she felt like a completely different person. Older, somehow.

She’d talked with Suzanne this afternoon and they’d written down some ideas. She couldn’t imagine that the school board would not agree with her. It was the perfect solution for the children who needed to help their parents during the day.

She twisted the piece of paper in her hands and looked up to see the Widow Samson enter, parasol in hand. She wondered if she would tap her parasol during the meeting, and hoped not.

Rose had never been to a meeting of the school committee and really had no idea what to expect. She did know that the meetings were open to anyone—she’d checked when she’d had her great idea—but she wasn’t sure that anyone else even knew about it.

Mrs. Samson looked down her nose at Rose as she passed, and Rose made sure to give her the biggest smile she could muster. After seeing Elizabeth today, Rose knew what she had to do and not even the Widow Samson could dampen her spirits.

As the ladies took their seats in front of the chalkboard, Mrs. Samson stood to one side, and Rose shuddered as the tapping sound of the parasol on the floor reverberated through the room. She had half a mind to throw the parasol under a wagon wheel, but continued to smile, waiting for her opportunity to speak to the group.

Mrs. Samson cleared her throat. “I do not see Mr. Tate in attendance as requested, but it is the appointed hour and we must begin.” She tapped her parasol again and it was everything Rose could do not to cover her ears.

“The committee does have business to attend to, and I would imagine, Miss Archer, that such business would not be of any interest to you, although you are more than welcome to stay and go over the school budget with us.”

Rose stood next to the student desk. “Thank you, Mrs. Samson. That’s a very kind offer, but I actually have come to make a proposal to the committee.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Samson said as her fingers rested on the mourning brooch pinned to the shoulder of her black dress.

Rose cleared her throat and opened the paper, smoothing it on the desk so as not to forget anything she wanted to say.

“Yes. It pertains to our conversation of this morning,” Rose said, looking directly at the widow.

Mrs. Samson tapped her parasol and said, “I don’t believe we need to re-visit that conversation, Miss Archer. As I stated this morning, the conversation was final.”

“I remember you did say that, Mrs. Samson, but I have some information that I think the rest of the committee might like to hear also.”

An older woman seated the furthest away from Mrs. Samson—who had not been with the rest of the group when they’d stopped by the schoolhouse—took off her gloves and set them in her lap, clearing her throat. “I, for one, would love to hear what you have to say, Miss Archer. It’s refreshing for people to have an interest in education in this town, and I’d be delighted to hear you out.”

Mrs. Samson turned and glared at the woman who continued to look right at Rose with encouragement. “Mrs. Carter, I am—”

“I know, Mrs. Samson, you are the chairwoman,” Mrs. Carter interrupted. “But the rest of us do have a say in what happens at the schoolhouse, and I would like to hear what Miss Archer has to say.”

Mrs. Samson pursed her lips and sat in her chair, her hands resting on her parasol.

Rose looked from Mrs. Samson to Mrs. Carter with relief. Maybe she had a chance after all. She looked quickly at her paper then folded it back up and placed it in her pocket.

She took a deep breath and began. “I am a graduate of this schoolhouse, and have always cherished and valued the education I received here. I woke up every day, after having stayed up late in the night to read even more, and hurried here as fast as I could—to learn everything I could. Here in this room, the world was opened to me.” She gestured around the room and her eyes stopped on Michael leaning against the back wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

Her stomach flipped, but she closed her eyes for a moment and gathered her courage to continue.

“As you all know, I volunteered to be an assistant to the new headmaster so that as many children as possible could have the same opportunities I did, and could see the world through the pages of books. And in my short time here, it’s been shocking to me to find that there are children who can’t, for whatever reason, have that chance.”

She lowered her eyes, then looked up, directly at Mrs. Samson. “I met a young lady today who was the age of maybe ten or eleven in a business establishment here in Tombstone. It took several moments for me to realize that she was unable to read, and it broke my heart. I’d like to see if there might be a way that we can help these children receive—if not exactly what Mr. Tate is able to provide here during the day—at least access to books.”

“Miss Archer, I explained to you this morning—”

“Madeline, I’ve already said that I wish to hear Miss Archer out,” Mrs. Carter said without a glance in Mrs. Samson’s direction, and Mrs. Samson clamped her mouth shut as her cheeks reddened.

Rose took a quick look back at Michael, and when he nodded at her, she continued. She willed her heartbeat to slow down as she said, “I would like to propose that we make the schoolhouse available in the early evenings, after shops close but before supper, so that these children could at least maybe be read to, and possibly learn their letters.”

“Miss Archer, you can’t expect the town of Tombstone to pay for anything beyond what they do at this time. There aren’t enough funds—”

She felt Michael walk up behind her before she heard him say, “Mrs. Samson, I would gladly volunteer my time for such an endeavor as Miss Archer has brilliantly proposed.”

Mrs. Carter smiled at Michael and nodded. “That’s a very generous thing for you to do, Mr. Tate. But surely you would not be able to provide this service every evening.”

“I had planned to donate my time as well, Mrs. Carter, and possibly between the two of us, we might be able to make the schoolhouse available a few times a week.”

Rose reached down to the desk and steadied herself, not at all sure what the group’s decision would be, but no matter what—her heart beat faster at just the thought that Michael would be willing to help her. Especially now that he would be married.

“It’s a very interesting idea, and certainly a creative one as Tombstone has yet to produce a library. I think it’s a fine idea, ladies.” Mrs. Carter turned to the ladies to her left and smiled. “Surely there can be no reason it wouldn’t be a grand idea.”

Mrs. Samson stood, not tapping but pounding her parasol on the floor, and Rose barely brought her hand to her mouth quick enough to cover her smile.

“Mrs. Carter, ladies, the fact remains that there are parents who do not want their children in school, and I promised that they would not have to come.”

“This is not mandatory. They are just suggesting that we provide the opportunity to those who are willing. What could be wrong with that.”

Mrs. Samson paced over to the window and back, her lips pursed. “I am against it. Besides, I can’t imagine that any working parents would avail themselves of this offer, and we’d just be putting the schoolhouse at risk in the meantime.”

“With all due respect, Madame Chairwoman, I would certainly bring my children each and every afternoon the schoolhouse was open.” Rose started as a voice boomed from behind her. She turned toward the door and brought her hand to her chest, moved at the sight of Mr. Bailey and his three children—including Sammy, who held his felt hat in his hand and shuffled his feet, giving Rose and Michael a very shy smile.

“Mr. Bailey, I—”

“Madeleine, could you please for one moment try to consider the best interests of all of the children? There can be no harm here. These two charming young people are offering us a gift of their time. Can you please just accept it?”

Mrs. Samson’s face reddened, her fingers whitening as she gripped her parasol. “I would need to confirm that we are all in agreement.” She looked toward the other ladies who sat silent, their eyes wide as they looked from Mrs. Samson to Mrs. Carter.

Mrs. Carter raised an eyebrow and turned to her left. “Surely you would not deny these children the very opportunity that each of you had as a child. I am certain that you are in agreement with trying this idea of Miss Archer’s out.”

Each of the ladies stared at Mrs. Carter and nodded, and Rose couldn’t help but clap her hands.

“It’s settled, then. Madeleine, what is the next order of business? I believe you’ve received enough of a progress report from Mr. Tate for tonight and I suggest we let these people get on with their lives. Unless, of course, they’d rather stay and learn about the budget.”

She turned to Rose and nodded, her eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you, but no. I should be on my way.” Rose turned toward the door and looked up at Michael, his dark brown eyes smiling down at her.