“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Maggie. It was his loss.”
Silence fell over them and Daniel glanced at the clock. “I’d better go. Are you going to be all right?”
She nodded, smiling. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not usually so emotional, but there’s something about you that breaks down my resolve.” She laughed, naturally this time. “Or my good sense.”
He stroked her cheek with his hand and, leaning in, kissed her forehead just as he always kissed Izzy. “You can talk to me about anything. We are friends, remember.”
Before she’d recovered her shock at his boldness, he strode to the door.
She stopped him. “I’ll have supper ready at six tonight.” Eventually, she considered him a fixture at her dining table.
That was fine with him. He looked over his shoulder. “We’ll be on time.” Calling to Izzy, he took the child home for a Sunday afternoon nap. But despite his lack of sleep the night before, his troubled thoughts kept him awake, pondering.
Sympathy was no longer the only reason he wanted to win Maggie’s love and convince her to marry him. Desire had touched him today—and not just the desire for a mother for Izzy.
Chapter 9
Activity crowded the last week of school so that Maggie didn’t have time to mourn the inevitable parting from her students. A good thing, since she’d been teaching at this little schoolhouse for four years, and in that time had grown to know these children. She loved every single one. But life was full of changes. When God closed one door, He opened another.
If she only had the courage to step through that door. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. But as usual, the closer she got to a decision—a change—the more she began second-guessing her judgment.
She had to believe God sent Izzy and Daniel to keep her focused on her goal. Love and family.
Pride swelled to bursting as she observed how well the children were doing with the play. Today was their last rehearsal before the performance tonight. Nerves had Maggie strung as tight as a fiddle’s strings. How must the children feel? This was the first time they’d performed on a real stage.
One who wasn’t nervous was little Izzy. She was a natural actress, even correcting the others as to where they should stand and, in the cutest way, prompting them in their lines. The shy little girl, clinging to her father’s coattails, had come out of her shell in such a charming way.
Besides, she looked sweet as could be in her angel costume. Maggie just knew Daniel would be so proud. She was, though a teacher wasn’t supposed to show favoritism, but it would be foolish to deny she wasn’t partial to her little charge.
Daniel had managed to arrive on time for supper all but one night, and Maggie dug out her mama’s old recipes. The usual fare didn’t seem appropriate for a man who must get tired of train fare. He effused over her cooking in a way no one ever had, and that alone made her want to please him at mealtime. His praise of how nice her house was had her dusting and cleaning more than she ever had.
Actually, she delighted in pleasing him in many ways, even searching through the newspaper so she could impress him with her knowledge of the politics of the day.
She really couldn’t pretend any longer that her fussy cooking and housekeeping wasn’t for his sake. For a while, she’d assumed she did it all for Izzy, but Izzy didn’t care that her meal was seasoned just right or how clean the house was.
She’d let herself grow too fond of Izzy and Daniel, but it was too late to do anything about it. The heart didn’t listen to logic or reason. Feelings couldn’t be squashed or buried. They went where they willed and couldn’t be controlled any more than the weather.
Maybe that was for the best. In an unexpected way, she’d learned that she could love again. Feel again. Izzy had taught her she could be a good mother. After all this was over, Mrs. Crenshaw would find her a mate, and she’d marry him and have a little girl of her own. One who’d follow her around like Izzy did. One who’d try to help her cook and sew and ask a hundred questions in the process.
A child to replace the one she’d lost might fill the hole in her heart.
Daniel had taught her she could have feelings for a man again. And both he and Izzy had convinced her she could overcome loss and pick up her life after the grief. She just prayed Daniel would be able to overcome his grief and be able to love again.
She’d probably return to normal when Daniel and Izzy went out of her life. But until then, she’d enjoy every moment. She’d block all worries because, as Christ said, “Sufficient for today are your worries.” Besides, tomorrow would come soon enough. They’d leave the day after Christmas. But Maggie determined to pack every bit of joy into the time remaining.
Including the ball. She’d go as Daniel’s intended, performing as though in a play. Just as the children were performing the Christmas play, and just like them, she’d take her bow at the end and leave the stage.
But today, the play consumed her thoughts. Nerves always hit her when her students performed in public, whether a spelling bee, or parents’ visits, or singing in the chorus, or performing a play. Their success or failure was a reflection on her, and maybe that was pride mixed in with the tension. She did her best to prepare them, but as the time approached, she began praying for each child.
Normally, she’d have been with her students behind the curtains, but she’d handed all of the production over to them. On the night of the Christmas play, Daniel escorted her and Izzy, and when Annie came to take the excited little girl away, they found their seats. Since Maggie was the teacher, they were assigned the coveted center front row.
Daniel slid into the seat beside her. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had as good a view of the stage.”
“And I don’t suppose I ever will again.”
He chuckled. “Me either. This is a huge theater and very nicely furnished.”
“Yes,” Maggie said, glad her little town could compete with the eastern cities in this at least. “Carianne Cason demanded the best.” Maggie had never been in another theater, but she would guess the polished oaken balustrades and floors, chandeliers, red velvet with gold braid cords, the grand piano and dais for an orchestra, all bespoke elegance that would rival any found in Boston.
“Mrs. Cason was a Barlow before she married, wasn’t she? My parents knew Lady Barlow of Boston and London quite well.”
Maggie tucked that bit of information in the back of her mind. She wanted to know more about his parents, but she’d have to take care in how to bring up the subject. She sensed he didn’t like to talk about his family. “Lady Barlow was Carianne’s grandmother. She left her entire fortune to Carianne when she died, with the stipulation that Carianne start a string of libraries across the west.”
“It seems a strange request from a woman who—shall we say—showed no charity for America.”
“I know, but she changed right before her death. Somewhat like Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, she repented of her hateful past, but since she was already ill, asked her granddaughter to do penance for her, I suppose.”
“But her granddaughter concentrated most of the charity right here in this small town. I wonder why?”
“Because Rhyan Cason was here.”
“Now he’s another study in contrasts. Most cattlemen of his wealth don’t really live on their ranches. Thomas Belter doesn’t live on his farms. Why do you suppose Mr. Cason wants to live out here on the prairie?”
“Because Carianne wants to live here.”
Daniel chuckled as he nodded. “That explains it. I suspect Mrs. Belter prefers to live in the East. In fact, Mr. and Mrs. Belter are simply taking their Christmas tour of their properties. They have farms in Kansas too. They actually live in Boston.”
Maggie wanted to ask more about the Belters, but Juliette came out from a side door and sat at the piano. As familiar Christmas carols floated through the air, Maggie closed her eyes, but Daniel’s mention of the Belters reminded her they’d be leaving for the ball next w
eek. It also occurred to her this was her last day as a schoolteacher. She couldn’t imagine not preparing for lessons every day. Nor could she imagine fitting in at a ball.
“She plays beautifully,” Daniel said, cutting into her thoughts.
“Yes, Juliette can do all things well. She’s Annie’s sister.”
“I know. I met her in the library.”
“That’s right. I forgot. Juliette and her husband, Jake Gresham, were married last year and they’re expecting their first child sometime in the summer. Oh.” She sat up straight. “Let’s go to the Cowboy Chapel Sunday. You’ll meet Jake and Mr. Decker there. Jake is a foreman on Sollano and Mr. Decker is a manager. You could ask them about how a big ranch operates. They might give you some tips that you could use to impress Mr. Belter.”
“That’s a good idea. I can use all the help I can get. The more I see of the area, the more I think it would be the best place for Izzy to grow up. Mr. Cason was right about the benefits of small-town living.”
Maggie had to lean in to hear him. The rumble of voices grew louder, and she looked backward. Her jaw dropped. “What in the world? Where did all these people come from?”
Daniel turned his head. “It looks like we have a full house.”
“Carianne must have sent out advertisements. This auditorium seats a thousand, and there are only about five hundred in all of Westerfield, including the two hundred on Sollano.”
“Well, that’s good, right?” He took her hand, setting off flutters in her stomach.
Was it good? Her nerves tightened. “I don’t know what Carianne promised these people. This is a play performed by schoolchildren, not actors, as are usually hired for the plays.”
“Admittance is free. That’s probably what drew them in. There is no better advertisement than free.” His blue gaze landed on hers and held for several seconds. “Tell me about the Western Gates.”
He meant to get her mind off the play and succeeded in that only to heighten the tension by his look and touch. She slipped her hand from his and wiped her damp palm along her skirt.
“Carianne bought the old saloon and turned it into the library. The old bar became a concession stand, and the rooms upstairs turned into suites for visiting dignitaries.”
“Are there many dignitaries?”
“Oh, yes, especially during the Wild West Shows.” She drew in a deep breath. “But those shows compare with anything you’d find in the big cities. And even though admittance to our Christmas play is free, these people had to come from some distance, so it’s not really free, is it? I just hope the children don’t get stage fright.” Her gaze dropped to her lap where she twisted her handkerchief.
“I’ve always found children less self-conscious than adults. I’m sure they will be fine. Besides, the audience will be in the dark. They probably won’t notice the crowd.”
The cadence of his voice warmed her, and she finally relaxed. “Maybe you’re right. I know your little Isabelle has really come out of her shell. She’s my best actress. And so cute in that angel costume. Wait until you see her. She makes a perfect angel with those big brown eyes. They’re not solid brown like mine, but the shades vary from light brown to almost black. Maybe they’re actually a dark hazel. There might even be a touch of blue like yours.”
“I agree Izzy has beautiful eyes, but I can’t take credit.”
“Does she look like your wife?”
She only meant it as a casual remark, but saw him stiffen and look straight ahead. “No. Izzy is adopted.”
A jolt ran through her, followed by a chill she didn’t understand. She shouldn’t have mentioned his wife. But, somehow, she’d never have imagined Izzy wasn’t Daniel’s natural child.
She wanted to know more, but instinctively felt the subject was taboo, and fortunately, no further comment was required since the lights in the auditorium went dark while the stage brightened. The play was about to begin.
Juliette stopped playing, and the audience took that as a cue to pay attention. The hum of voices ceased. Maggie felt her nerves stretching again as her oldest student, Thad Kendal, came from behind the curtain and stood in the middle of the stage.
He held a paper of notes in his hand, but he only referred to them once, as he welcomed the guests and explained the play. Unlike Maggie, the young man was perfectly composed and impeccably dressed in black trousers and coat, white shirt and red tie.
Maggie bet Lucy was somewhere in the audience, swooning.
The curtain rose on the first scene, a grouping of angels discussing their role in heralding the birth of Jesus. At first there was a discussion of who was going to take their message to the shepherds. An argument ensued as to who would have this honor. Being left out, the littlest angels begged to go. Izzy had her first speaking part. “We can sing, too.”
Maggie gave Daniel a sidelong glance and found him grinning like any proud papa, and she understood the sentiment perfectly.
The curtain closed on the first act. “How many acts are there?” he asked.
“Three. The next is about the shepherds being visited by the angels and singing their songs of praise. The final act is the manger scene. and the angels crowd in and sing again.”
Except for a very few stumbles, all the children remembered their lines and delivered them with grace. Maggie liked the singing most of all, and she wished they’d added a few more carols.
At the end, little Izzy noticed her father in the audience and ran to the edge of the stage. “Did you like it, Papa?”
Soft laughter rippled through the theater. Daniel blew Izzy a kiss, and Annie left her role as Mary and tugged the little girl back into place.
After the final curtain fell and the thunderous applause died down, Thad returned to his place and thanked everyone involved, including the ladies sewing circle for creating the costumes, and Maggie for her guidance. Applause followed each recognition. Then Thad asked everyone to rise and join the cast in singing Silent Night as they departed.
With Izzy—missing her halo—riding on his hip, Daniel hooked Maggie’s elbow and they fell in behind the line of exiting theater goers, but instead of following them outside, Daniel pulled into the side exit which Maggie knew led to the antechamber where concessions were sold when the Western Gates was open.
Thinking he’d lost his way, she said, “That area is locked. We’ll have to go out the front.”
He didn’t change directions, and Izzy’s giggle, together with the grin on Daniel’s face, made her wonder what they were up to.
Chapter 10
Daniel felt Maggie’s tension as he pressed his palm to the small of her back, guiding her to the doors. She wasn’t a woman easy to trust, but it was time she realized how appreciated she was by this town and be recognized for her good works. Never had he met a woman who felt so unworthy of praise. Or love.
He suspected her low opinion of herself began with her father’s treatment. If the man wasn’t dead, Daniel would have confronted him. As it was, he’d have to convince Maggie she was worth being loved.
“Why are we going in there? It’s not even lighted.”
Daniel ignored her and opened one of the double doors. The place was well-lit and full of people, all of her students as well as most of the town. They shouted “surprise” at her appearance.
She gave Daniel a shocked glance. “What in the world? You set this up.”
“It was a secret, Miss Maggie,” Izzy said. “And I didn’t tell.”
“You kept the secret well, sweetheart,” Daniel said, placing her on the floor. He had to literally push Maggie forward.
Annie hugged Maggie, and cleared her throat. “Miss Maggie, we’re all going to miss you. You’ve taught us so much more than reading, writing, and arithmetic. You taught us to care for each other and do things for ourselves and what’s right and wrong, outside of school, as well as inside.”
She drew in a breath, as Maggie sobbed into a handkerchief. “We couldn’t let you go without giving you somethin
g to remember us by,” Annie continued. “Because we’ll never forget you.” After hugging Maggie again, she gave her a small package. The rest of the students came forward, one by one, and piled their gifts into Maggie’s arms.
Maggie’s gaze kept sliding to Daniel’s with a mute appeal. All this attention made her uncomfortable. Then she slipped a glance to Izzy who stood beside him, out of the way, holding onto his coattail, and her eyes softened.
Rachel took all Maggie’s gifts to free up her arms and set them on the display table that held the refreshments of sandwiches, cookies, and hot chocolate.
The mayor raised his arms to gain attention. After a speech of gratitude for the school and town, he handed Maggie an envelope. “This is a little extra to express our appreciation for all you’ve done for Westerfield.”
Maggie shook the mayor’s hand with one of hers and took the envelope with the other. She gave a short, halting speech filled with sobs and sincerity, like she’d rehearsed it but forgotten the words.
After the applause had died down, everyone filled their plates and stood around eating and visiting.
Daniel waited as long as he thought Izzy would hold out, but after they’d eaten and he was assured everyone had time to speak to Maggie, he came up behind her. “If you don’t mind, I think we’d better go. It’s nearly nine o’clock.”
Maggie turned. One look at Izzy resting her head on Daniel’s shoulder, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks in a motion he’d already come to recognize as her what-could-I-have-been-thinking look. “Yes, we must. We should have left an hour ago. I’ll just get my coat.”
The wind had turned cold, still hinting at sleet or snow, but it woke Izzy. As she began asking Maggie questions about the party, it occurred to Daniel that Izzy just realized Maggie would no longer be teaching. She kept up a steady stream of questions. What would Maggie do if she didn’t teach children? What would they do without someone to teach them? Most important, where would Maggie go?
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