Read Online The Teacher's Mail Order Bride by Cindy Caldwell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cindy Caldwell
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windows, at least a couple, to get some fresh air inside. When she’d attended there, the headmaster hadn’t allowed open windows, even on the hottest of days. She had to admit, birds building nests in spring and passing stray dogs didn’t help much to keep any students’ attention on what they were learning.
The wood of the small boxes that each student was assigned felt smooth as she ran her hand along its polished ends. She searched above for the piece of paper with box assignments on it but found none. Maybe Mr. Tate hadn’t made the assignments yet, not knowing which students would be attending. She could help with that.
She walked to the front of the room, glancing out the windows as she wondered what had happened to Mr. Tate. She had been sure he’d be here by now, and as she looked at the watch pinned to the bodice of her dress, she absently plopped down in the chair behind the teacher’s desk.
The door latch moved and she jumped up, realizing that the chair was reserved for the actual teacher, not her. Mr. Tate rushed in the door, his bowler hat in hand as he reached to place it on the hook by the door. His white teeth flashed as he saw Rose and smiled, nodding slightly in her direction. “Good morning, Miss Archer. I do apologize for my tardiness.”
“No problem at all, Mr. Tate. I’ve just been familiarizing myself with the classroom. Or familiarizing myself again, I should say.” She fingered the ties of her bonnet as he hung his hat. She’d forgotten she even had it on, and untied it, pushing back a stray brown curl that had come lose from her chignon.
“Here, let me hang that up for you,” he said as he reached his hand toward her, taking the bonnet and turning toward the hat rack.
She furrowed her brow at the same rush of heat she’d felt when his fingers had brushed hers the night before at dinner. Was she that excited to be in a classroom? Maria’s words ran through her mind and she shook her head, eager to get to the task at hand.
“Ah, that’s right. This was your schoolhouse too, wasn’t it?”
She nodded and took a seat in a chair set against the wall, folding her hands in her lap. “Yes, it was. And I miss it.”
He looked up from the desk and smiled. “I loved my schoolhouse, too.” He looked around at the tall ceiling and the rows of desks. “Mine was a little bit different, though.”
“Oh? How so?” Rose had only been in this schoolhouse and couldn’t imagine what would have been different. “Bigger, maybe, since you were in a bigger town?”
Mr. Tate’s eyes clouded as he looked back down at his desk. “No, not bigger. Not a big difference, I suppose. Students are students.”
Rose furrowed her brow, but when she was sure he wasn’t going to offer any additional information, she said, “Speaking of students, the other day at the ice cream fundraiser there was a group of boys behind the tree, not wanting to join the group.”
“I’ve noticed the same group, but each time I try to approach, they scatter.” He took his glasses off and set them on the desk. He rubbed the back of his neck and went to the window Rose had opened, looking both left and right.
“The same happened with me. I didn’t recognize any of them at first, but the other day I thought I saw one of them working in the kitchen at Bailey’s Restaurant.”
Mr. Tate’s eyebrows rose as he turned toward her. “Oh? Well, that explains a bit of it, then.”
“What do you mean?” Rose stood and walked to the windows on the other side of the room but saw no sign of the group of boys.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly before he looked up at Rose. “I’ve seen it happen before. It would appear that the boys don’t feel welcome, and it would be for one of only two possible reasons.”
Rose raised her own brows, waiting for him to continue. He paced in front of the chalkboard. “I’m not yet familiar with the culture of this town, so I’m not exactly sure
The wood of the small boxes that each student was assigned felt smooth as she ran her hand along its polished ends. She searched above for the piece of paper with box assignments on it but found none. Maybe Mr. Tate hadn’t made the assignments yet, not knowing which students would be attending. She could help with that.
She walked to the front of the room, glancing out the windows as she wondered what had happened to Mr. Tate. She had been sure he’d be here by now, and as she looked at the watch pinned to the bodice of her dress, she absently plopped down in the chair behind the teacher’s desk.
The door latch moved and she jumped up, realizing that the chair was reserved for the actual teacher, not her. Mr. Tate rushed in the door, his bowler hat in hand as he reached to place it on the hook by the door. His white teeth flashed as he saw Rose and smiled, nodding slightly in her direction. “Good morning, Miss Archer. I do apologize for my tardiness.”
“No problem at all, Mr. Tate. I’ve just been familiarizing myself with the classroom. Or familiarizing myself again, I should say.” She fingered the ties of her bonnet as he hung his hat. She’d forgotten she even had it on, and untied it, pushing back a stray brown curl that had come lose from her chignon.
“Here, let me hang that up for you,” he said as he reached his hand toward her, taking the bonnet and turning toward the hat rack.
She furrowed her brow at the same rush of heat she’d felt when his fingers had brushed hers the night before at dinner. Was she that excited to be in a classroom? Maria’s words ran through her mind and she shook her head, eager to get to the task at hand.
“Ah, that’s right. This was your schoolhouse too, wasn’t it?”
She nodded and took a seat in a chair set against the wall, folding her hands in her lap. “Yes, it was. And I miss it.”
He looked up from the desk and smiled. “I loved my schoolhouse, too.” He looked around at the tall ceiling and the rows of desks. “Mine was a little bit different, though.”
“Oh? How so?” Rose had only been in this schoolhouse and couldn’t imagine what would have been different. “Bigger, maybe, since you were in a bigger town?”
Mr. Tate’s eyes clouded as he looked back down at his desk. “No, not bigger. Not a big difference, I suppose. Students are students.”
Rose furrowed her brow, but when she was sure he wasn’t going to offer any additional information, she said, “Speaking of students, the other day at the ice cream fundraiser there was a group of boys behind the tree, not wanting to join the group.”
“I’ve noticed the same group, but each time I try to approach, they scatter.” He took his glasses off and set them on the desk. He rubbed the back of his neck and went to the window Rose had opened, looking both left and right.
“The same happened with me. I didn’t recognize any of them at first, but the other day I thought I saw one of them working in the kitchen at Bailey’s Restaurant.”
Mr. Tate’s eyebrows rose as he turned toward her. “Oh? Well, that explains a bit of it, then.”
“What do you mean?” Rose stood and walked to the windows on the other side of the room but saw no sign of the group of boys.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly before he looked up at Rose. “I’ve seen it happen before. It would appear that the boys don’t feel welcome, and it would be for one of only two possible reasons.”
Rose raised her own brows, waiting for him to continue. He paced in front of the chalkboard. “I’m not yet familiar with the culture of this town, so I’m not exactly sure
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