Tillie’s Theatre: The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 20

by Barton, Keira K.

  “I can’t even imagine how scary that was, Til. I feel so awful that we didn’t talk about this earlier.” William raked his hand through his hair. He felt like the worst person in the world for not talking to Tillie at all the past few weeks. Agh. What is wrong with me?

  “It was. But like I said, it was a long time ago.”

  “How was the orphanage where you were sent? I’ve heard some of them are pretty rough.”

  “I guess that’s the only good part about this story,” Tillie said with a smile. “The Wigg Foundling Home and School was a dream to grow up in. I ended up with twenty-five sisters.”

  “Twenty-five sisters? What do you mean?”

  “Well, except for Abigail, there were twenty-four girls who all came to the school around the same time, and each was given a name starting with a different letter of the alphabet.” Tillie chuckled. “It does sound funny when I say it out loud to a person who doesn’t know the other girls.”

  “Wait—weren’t you nine when you got there? How could you fit so perfectly into this alphabet naming system?” William couldn’t hold back his laughter.

  “Actually, there was a Tabitha who had come before me, but unfortunately, she died as an infant with a bad case of croup. When I showed up, Madam Wiggie said I was like the missing piece of their puzzle.”

  “So, do you know where each girl went to get married? Will you all stay in touch? That’s a lot of letters to write.” William was genuinely amused by her unique circumstances.

  “I know where the majority of the girls went. We mostly left in order from A down until I left, although R left before me. I probably won’t write all the girls, but there are several I’ll keep up with. For example, I’ll stay close with my roommate Uma, and our friends Rebecca and Sally. The four of us did almost everything together. Then there’s Zara, Beulah, Vera Mea, and Jessamine too. And maybe a few others, if I can get addresses from Wiggie.”

  “Uma. I was wondering what name they picked for U, and Zara for Z—all right. There must be some other interesting names near the end. Who was X? I don’t know of any name that starts with X.”

  “X is Xenia.”

  “Interesting. And where did she go?”

  “Actually, she’s the only one I’m not sure about. All the other girls told Madam Wiggie where they were going before they left, but Xenia just disappeared one day. Some of the girls think she’s dead somewhere, and others think she’s off chasing a dream. I just think she wanted some freedom to go on an adventure and not have to be accountable to anyone.”

  “I could see the allure in that. What about Y?” William’s curiosity was piqued.

  “Y is Yetta.”

  William nodded. “Well, this Wiggie seems to be pretty creative with names. It’s not easy to pull off the whole alphabet. Do you miss the orphanage?” He sat back in his chair. They’d spent the last couple of hours asking each other questions and getting to know one another the way they should have been this whole time.

  “Honestly? I’ve been so unhappy the past couple weeks that I was longing to go back. I hope that changes, though.”

  William stood up and walked over to where Tillie sat. “I’m really sorry, Tillie. I’ve just never been in a situation like this before. I’m still trying to figure out how to handle it. But either way, I was wrong to ignore you for so long.” He wished he could tell her that he’d had Joshua keeping tabs on her, but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. He couldn’t wait to see her face on Wednesday when he took the stage as George Washington.

  “I understand. We’re both just trying to navigate this unusual arrangement at best as we can. I just hope things go a little smoother from here on out.”

  “Miss Thompson?” Mrs. Jones’s shuffling footsteps were unmistakable, and William let out a sigh. He didn’t want this evening with Tillie to end.

  “Yes, Mrs. Jones?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your clothes are dry. It’s still raining out there, though. What do you want to do about getting home? I’m afraid the roads aren’t fit for travel.” Mrs. Jones was wringing her hands relentlessly, and worry was evident in the way she’d scrunched her brows together.

  “I’m not sure. I can’t stay here.” Tillie stood and glanced at William.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll come up with a solution.” William glanced at Mrs. Jones, then back at Tillie, then back at his housekeeper. “Mrs. Jones, would you and Mr. Jones mind sleeping in the house tonight? I can’t stay here if Tillie does, but I don’t want her to stay alone. I have three spare rooms.” William walked over to Tillie and grabbed her hand gently. “Is that all right with you?”

  “That will be fine, but where will you sleep?”

  “Ah. That leads me to my next question. Can I sleep out in your cottage, Mrs. Jones?”

  “W—well. I mean, of course you can. You own it.” Mrs. Jones started smoothing her apron over and over again.

  “Yes, but right now it’s yours, and I would never impose my will on you that way.”

  “We don’t mind. We’re happy to help in this emergency situation with Miss Thompson.” Mrs. Jones seemed to settle down for the time being. At least, she stopped smoothing her apron.

  “Glad to hear it. All right, now that it’s settled, I’ll gather my things and head out. You’ll want to get Mr. Jones and whatever you need from the cottage too.”

  William waited for Mrs. Jones to leave, then turned to Tillie. “I hope you sleep all right in such an unfamiliar place. I won’t lie—knowing that you’re sleeping in my house tonight is making me immensely happy.”

  Tillie blushed, and playfully hit William on the shoulder. “Oh, my!”

  William glanced toward the door where Mrs. Jones had been standing, and then wrapped his arm around Tillie’s back and pulled her in close. “You know, you really didn’t have anything to be afraid of with letting me in and telling me about your life. It’s only made my feelings for you grow.” Tillie had told him she was scared to divulge the details of her past because she was afraid it would make him think less of her, but he was attracted to her strength, and her resilience in the face of such a difficult upbringing. He hadn’t seen his parents in years, but he couldn’t imagine losing them at such a young age, and in such a horrific manner.

  “Is that so?” Tillie’s voice sounded lighthearted, but William didn’t miss the pink in her cheeks. He knew she felt something too.

  “Absolutely.” William pulled her a little closer still, then put his forehead on hers. “I can’t wait until you’re here at home with me, Til. Forever.” His heart quickened as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, reveling in the warmth of the soft contact. He’d wanted to kiss her so many times that day.

  Tillie closed her eyes and sighed, but never did say anything. Hopefully she would feel a little more certain about him after the play. Even though they’d been able to talk about everything and sort out the misunderstandings of the last few weeks, he was still counting on his performance to seal the deal.

  Chapter 10

  Tillie woke up on Independence Day with excitement buzzing in her stomach. No one else was aware of it, but that day she was going to overcome her stage fright and perform for the first time in her life. She jumped out of bed, constantly suppressing a squall that was attempting to work its way up her throat and out of her mouth. It had been a very long time since she’d smiled so much that her face hurt, and she wondered if this excitement would last once she got to town or if it would disappear as soon as the nervousness set in.

  Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell both rode into town with her that morning, and kindly helped her and the children load the back of their buggy with props and backdrops over and over again until everything had been moved down to the town square, where a stage had already been set up. The Marshfield school’s performance would only be one part of a larger program that had been organized by the mayor for the Independence Day celebration. However, they would be the first group to perform, so they could have the stage all se
t up for their play, as that would take the most time compared to the other acts.

  It took most of the morning to make the set come to life, and with only an hour to spare before the play would start, Tillie barely had a moment to think about being nervous. She looked around the square for her students so they could go over the order of their parts once more, and make sure everyone had what they needed for their costumes. She’d talked to most everyone except for—she put her hands around her mouth and called out—“Joshua!” She needed to make sure that his mystery friend was going to show up today to play George Washington. Otherwise, she would be in trouble with her part too.

  Tillie was sitting on the edge of the stage, dangling her feet off the side, when Joshua arrived next to her. “Yes, Miss Thompson?” he said, his voice breathy from jogging back across the large area.

  “Your friend will be here at one o’ clock dressed and ready to perform, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Joshua said, licking his lips.

  “You’re sure?”

  The boy nodded his head earnestly. “Positive.”

  “Well, all right, then. Go on wherever you were headed when I called you over here, but do not be late getting back. You hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  For the first time since she’d arrived in town that morning, Tillie’s stomach filled with butterflies. Her debut performance was now less than an hour away, and she could not believe she was really going through with this. Good thing it was with a bunch of kids. Hopefully, the audience wouldn’t have high expectations like they would in a professional theatre.

  Without any time to waste, Tillie slid off the edge of the stage and walked back to the Caldwells’ buggy to get the bag she’d packed her costume in. She was going to play Molly Pitcher. She’d never forget the look on Mr. Caldwell’s face when she’d asked if she could borrow his shotgun as a prop for the play, and she would watch him closely as she performed to see his reaction to the evidence that it was Tillie who needed it.

  She’d never shot a gun in her life, but she’d always admired the story of Molly Pitcher at the Battle of Monmouth. It had actually been the fact that she hadn’t had another girl available to play that brave woman that had inspired Tillie to do it herself. If Molly Pitcher could take over her husband’s gun in battle, Tillie could act in a community performance for her school.

  * * *

  William was hiding behind a group of trees, watching from a few yards away as Tillie was directing her students on and off the stage, helping exchange props for different characters, making last-minute costume adjustments, and giving encouraging words. Even across the distance, William could see the fire in her eyes. It was clear that she loved what she did.

  As each child went up and performed, the tingling sensation in William’s arms intensified. He’d never performed on a stage before, at least not seriously. He’d done a few talent shows with his friends in college, but it had always been to get a laugh out of the other students. This time he was trying to impress his future wife, and the stakes were most definitely higher.

  Joshua had told him that he would be the last person to go up on stage, so when all but one student had done their part, he started to prepare himself for his big reveal. Just before he was going to walk over, though, he saw Tillie look around, then pull a tattered dress over her head, smear some dirt on her face, and grab a gun from under the back of the stage where she’d been helping her students.

  Before William could figure out what was happening, Tillie ran onto the stage after Caleb Rowling—who was playing Benjamin Franklin—waddled off, holding his big, stuffed belly. Taking advantage of the fact that Tillie wouldn’t be able to see him now, William ran to where she had previously stood and waited for his cue to go on.

  “I thought you said I was last,” he hissed to Joshua.

  “I thought you were!”

  “Wait. You didn’t know Miss Thompson was going to play a part in this program?”

  “No. She didn’t say anything about it.” Joshua’s face was so twisted in confusion that it was clear he was telling the truth. William shared the boy’s reaction, especially after he’d learned Tillie suffered from intense stage fright.

  William listened intently as Tillie delivered her lines fluidly and full of passion. “She’s doing great,” he whispered to Joshua.

  The boy nodded enthusiastically, but when William looked over, he saw that the boy was staring at Mary Ellen Rowling, who was smiling at her brother, Caleb, and patting him on the back. She looked so proud, and Joshua looked completely transfixed with her. William couldn’t help but smile.

  The crowd clapped and cheered, which meant Tillie was probably headed off the stage. From what he’d seen earlier, she had all the kids exiting stage left, so William ran around to stage right and hopped on, narrowly escaping Tillie’s view as she turned the corner around the backdrop. William had practiced his few lines so many times over the past few weeks that even with the added pressure of being in front of people, he was able to recall them without any problem—at least until Tillie came around to the front of the stage to watch him. She must have recognized his voice from backstage, and her smile was unlike anything William had ever seen. He’d never witnessed such pure surprise and happiness on a person’s face before.

  He was briefly thrown off by Tillie standing there watching him, but he pushed aside his excitement and finished his part, which was the end of the play. As soon as he spoke his last word, all of the children who had performed joined him on stage, and so did Tillie. The crowd stood and cheered as everyone bowed, and William was thrilled that he had actually pulled off such a great surprise. Now, if this next part could only go as smoothly.

  William turned to Joshua and winked, his signal for Joshua to lead the students off stage. Tillie looked confused as her class started walking down the stairs. She went to follow them, but William grabbed her hand and pulled her back, turning her around so she was facing him. Then he got down on one knee.

  “Tillie Thompson, in three short weeks, you’ve helped me let go of so many beliefs I had about the world that were simply limiting me. You’ve shown me how passion and art can enrich a life, and you’ve taught me to let go of the rigidity I’ve clung to for so many years. I’m my favorite version of myself when I’m with you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife so we can be together always?”

  When Tillie’s eyes filled with tears, William wondered for a moment if it was too soon to ask this of her, and thought she might say no. A weight started to form in his stomach, and he worried about the embarrassment of such a public marriage proposal ending badly. Then she started nodding her head up and down.

  “Yes. Yes!” she finally managed.

  Relief flooded over William, and he stood and wrapped her up in a hug. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were about to turn me down,” he said into her ear.

  “Never. You’re too good to let go. Don’t you know?” Tillie pulled her head away from him and looked up into his eyes. “I’m flattered to be yours.”

  * * *

  The year Tillie turned twelve, Erna Schmidt had been hired by Madam Wiggie to run the kitchen. Erna was German, and the tradition of having a birthday cake with candles to blow out was something she brought with her to the orphanage. Every year from twelve on, blowing out her birthday candles was one of the highlights of Tillie’s childhood. In an orphanage with so many children, Tillie’s birthday had been the one day where she truly felt special.

  Erna taught Tillie that when you blew out your birthday candles, the smoke carried your prayers up to God. Well, after her fifteenth birthday, every year when Erna would bring out her birthday cake with the candles all ablaze, Tillie would patiently wait for the birthday song to end, and then she would blow out her candles praying for love. Tillie grew up dreaming of choosing the man she would spend the rest of her life with, and now, as she stood on stage with William, a pretty new ring being put on her finger, Tillie wasn’t sure that she�
��d ever wished for anything that felt this sweet.

  William was the most wonderful man Tillie had ever met, and most people never had the opportunity to see it. Sure, he was a caring doctor, but it was so much more than that. On Monday, Mr. Hollingsworth had come to visit the school to see how things had been going, and when Tillie thanked him for all the benches and slates and other supplies that had been there when she arrived, he’d stared at her blankly and insisted that he hadn’t supplied the school with anything. Immediately, Tillie knew it had been William.

  Then he’d so graciously played George Washington in her silly little play, and never even let her know he had that planned. Not even on Saturday evening when Mother Nature had given them time to talk and get to know one another better.

  Most people in town just knew that he lived in the big house on the hill. They didn’t see what he’d given or how he’d cared because he didn’t parade around his generosity like other people Tillie knew. He was a quiet giver, and she didn’t know if there could be a purer form of goodness than in that trait alone.

  After William placed the ring on her finger, he held her hand high in the air, and the cheers of the crowd grew louder. She turned to see his face, and his wide smile and happy eyes made her heart dance. She studied his lips and longed for him to kiss her again like he had the other night.

  “Let’s go.” William’s voice had turned gravelly again in his whisper, and Tillie blushed at the sensations it caused her to feel.

  “Right behind you.”