Tara set down the platter and clasped Rose’s hand. “I know how much this means to you. I’m sure Papa will allow it.”
“I do hope you’re right, Tara.” Rose gave her sister’s hand a squeeze back and took a deep breath as Pepper ran into the room.
“They’re here!” she shouted and spun around, heading out the front door and leaving it wide open.
Tara laughed and grabbed Rose’s elbow, guiding her toward the front door. “Pepper will be a good distraction if anything goes wrong. As she usually is.”
Rose smoothed her skirts and felt for any stray ringlets, not quite sure why she was concerned about what she looked like. At least she knew she hadn’t any mud on her face.
Lucy and Lily were first through the door and ran straight to Rose and Tara, each hugging one of the twins and Rose nuzzling Lucy’s cheek. “Hello, Miss Lucy. We are so glad to have you here for our fiesta.”
“Lemonade,” Lucy said as she wriggled from Rose’s arms.
“I’ll get you both some,” Tara said and led the girls onto the back patio. She turned back toward Rose and winked. “Rose, you go greet your guests.”
Rose walked slowly toward the front door, stepping onto the porch beside her father. His face was stern and he leaned against the house, his arms folded over his chest. Rose placed a hand on his arm. “Try not to look angry before they even stop the buggies, Papa.”
Beau Archer looked down at his daughter, his eyes softening. “Do I look angry? I don’t mean to. I’m looking forward to seeing your sister and Sam.”
“And Mrs. Allen?” Rose turned her gaze down the drive, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Oh, is she coming?” Her father turned away and sat on the porch swing, leaving Rose puzzled at the irritation in his tone.
“Are the girls in here?” Suzanne held her skirts in her hand and rushed toward the front door, James right behind her. “We stopped at the barn to say hello to Hank and all of a sudden they were gone.”
Rose laughed and pointed through the door. “They’re just fine. Tara is pouring some lemonade for them.”
Suzanne shook her head. “James, we need to teach them not to do that. After the accident with the horses, it’s just not safe. They just can’t go off doing whatever they feel like. They’ll be starting school soon.”
“Yes, dear,” James said as he winked at Rose with a sigh as he took off his hat and hung it on the rack by the door. “Hello, Mr. Archer. Thank you for inviting us.” James held his hand out and shook her father’s hand. “And this is Mr. Michael Tate, the new headmaster of the schoolhouse.” James stepped aside and Rose’s breath caught as she saw Mr. Tate step onto the porch behind James. Rose hadn’t even seen him behind the equally tall James and she stepped aside as her father reached out his hand.
“Very nice to meet you, Mr. Tate.” Mr. Archer shook Mr. Tate’s offered hand and gestured to the hat rack. “You can hang your hat right there and come on inside.”
Mr. Tate took off his bowler hat and held it to his chest, nodding his head slightly in Rose’s direction. “Hello, Miss Archer. Very nice to see you again,” he said as he ran his hand through his dark hair.
Rose nodded in return and smiled as her father called out, “Come on in, Mr. Tate. Hope you like Mexican food.”
“I’ve never had Mexican food before, Mr. Archer. I’m eager to try anything,” Mr. Tate said as he disappeared into the house.
Rose let out a whoosh of breath. The train was on the tracks and there was no stopping it now. She looked down the drive and, with no sign of Meg yet, she turned and followed them inside.
“Mr. Tate has come to town with very impressive credentials, Mr. Archer. He trained to be a teacher in Boston, where he was raised, and this is his second teaching assignment. Unfortunately, there is not enough money for the town to hire any help for him. Therefore, I volunteered to help and it is my understanding that Rose would like to, also.” Suzanne smiled at Rose and lifted her glass of lemonade toward her.
“Is that so, Mr. Tate? Your second teaching position? What happened to your first one?” Rose’s father narrowed his eyes at Mr. Tate, who smiled and nodded.
“Second, yes, Mr. Archer. My first was in the school I went to as a child. It’s in Boston and serves mainly immigrants, students from other countries. After I was able to work as a teacher, I wanted to work there for a bit to...well, sort of help those who’d helped me.” Mr. Tate’s smile hadn’t left his face, his eyes filled with humor and respect. Rose admired his ability to remain calm—although he didn’t have as much at stake with this conversation as she did.
“That’s a noble thing to do.” Mr. Archer’s brows drew together and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why come to Tombstone, then? If you were happy in your position there.”
“Let’s go onto the patio, shall we?” Rose ushered the group outside, hoping that it would be a little easier for her to breathe out there. Still listening in to the conversation, she reached for glasses and filled them with lemonade.
“Thank you, Miss Archer,” Mr. Tate said as he accepted the glass she held out to him. His fingers brushed hers as she did and she felt an unfamiliar tightness in her chest and frowned. “Are you all right, Miss?”
“Oh, yes, fine,” Rose said, smiling as brightly as she could manage, wishing this would be over soon.
Mr. Tate turned back to her father. “I taught there for three years, and helped as much as I could. And when the last term was up, my professor notified me of the position here in Tombstone. I’d always wanted to travel, see the world, but I’d been unable to prior. With the silver strike and so many people traveling here, I thought I would take my chances and see what it was like. I applied to the school committee, they requested a contract and here I am.”
He smiled so brightly that Rose turned away. His courage to travel to new, unseen places was something she hoped she had when the time came. If it came.
“I hear there’s been some trouble with the contract. Something about a wife?” Mr. Archer raised his eyebrows in Suzanne’s direction. “I suppose you’re planning to get him out of that fix.”
Suzanne set down her lemonade. “Well, I have had a bit of success making successful and happy matches, Mr. Archer.”
Mr. Archer smiled for the first time at Suzanne. “Yes, I believe you have, young lady.”
“And as a matter of fact, yesterday Mr. Tate and I went through some advertisements and composed a letter to two fine young ladies who may be a perfect fit. The letter went out in the post just today, actually.” Suzanne nodded with satisfaction.
Mr. Tate, however, didn’t look as pleased as Suzanne. He shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed the back of his neck. “I sure wasn’t expecting this, Mr. Archer, I have to tell you. I’ve been given very little time, but the Widow Samson seems to at least be appeased that I’ve started the process.”
“I never thought I’d say this, son, but if a match of Suzanne’s makes you as happy as it has my son, you’ll be a mighty lucky fellow.” He clapped Mr. Tate on the back and laughed. “Guess you’ll just have to hope for the best.”
“Hope for the best? Now, what kind of assurance is that, Mr. Archer?” Everyone turned at Mrs. Allen’s voice, and Rose couldn’t help think how lovely she was, and how much she reminded her of her own mother. Kind, beautiful, elegant and always knowing just what to say.
Her father nodded his head in Mrs. Allen’s direction and Rose wondered if that was red she saw creeping out of his collar. She looked to Suzanne, who held up crossed fingers as Mr. Archer walked over to greet his daughter, Meg, his new son-in-law, Sam, and Sam’s mother, Mrs. Allen.
After she’d greeted everyone, Mrs. Allen said, “And, Mr. Archer, have you decided to allow Rosemary to follow her passion?”
Rose’s cheeks heated as her father let out a sigh and looked from Mrs. Allen to Suzanne, then from Rose to Mr. Tate. “I think I may be outnumbered on this one. You have my consent, Rosemary, but please know, Mr. Tate,
that I will—”
“Goodness gracious, Mr. Archer. Let the young people have some fun and pour me something cool to drink.” Mrs. Allen reached for Mr. Archer’s elbow, looking back at Rose and winking as she pulled him toward the lemonade.
Chapter 11
“Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” Suzanne asked Michael as they headed down the drive and out under the big, metal sign that said Archer Ranch.
Michael looked up as they passed under, never having been to a ranch like this before. He turned back in the buggy, taking in the white adobe ranch house, bigger than any he’d seen, and the smaller house next to it, its garden fading as summer waned and cooler fall temperatures arrived.
Suzanne turned as well, her puzzled expression fading as she turned to Lucy and Lily. Michael smiled as he watched her corral them and calm them down, and was silently grateful that she’d be with him in the classroom, at least part time. He as yet didn’t know the make-up of his students, but two busy ones like that could take quite a bit of time away from the others, no matter how sweet they were.
He looked back at the house once again, repeating Mr. Archer’s words in his mind. He’d understood how a protective father of a lovely single woman such as Miss Archer would want to make himself aware of where she would be spending her time, and with whom. God knew that Mrs. Samson would want to know that permission had been given and received all around before she’d allow such a thing, and he was pleased that Mr. Archer had agreed.
Having two volunteers for assistance in the classroom would be grand, but he was somehow particularly pleased that Miss Archer would be joining him. During dinner—the likes of which he’d never seen and he’d told Maria, the cook, so—he been drawn to Miss Archer’s enthusiasm, her willingness to join in the conversation and her eager questions of him and Mrs. Allen about what life was like back east. She’d even peppered Sam with questions, much to his apparent delight, and it had all in all been a very pleasant evening.
He turned to Suzanne, pulling his bowler hat further toward his eyebrows. “No, it wasn’t bad at all. Quite nice, in fact.”
“Yes, they’re a lovely family. We’ve been friends for quite a long time, and I’m pleased for Rose that her father would even consider her working at the school.”
He furrowed his brows, looking from Suzanne to James as they exchanged glances. “It isn’t uncommon to have volunteers in the school, I don’t believe.”
James cleared his throat as he guided the horses back toward town, Suzanne’s arms around her twins as their heads bobbed, slowly lulled to sleep by the horses’ hooves. “A bit of history there, Suzanne?”
“What? You usually want me to stop telling stories,” Suzanne said as she nudged her husband with her elbow and smiled.
“This is different,” James said, his eyes back on the road.
“Hm. Well, Mr. Tate, Mr. Archer was very much in love with his wife, Katie Archer, and she tragically passed a few years ago.”
Michael frowned as he leaned forward in his seat. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” He thought of his own mother and how bereft he would be if she were to pass suddenly, and wondered how the family had fared.
Suzanne sighed. “Yes, it’s been difficult for all of them. Mr. Archer, particularly. And as a result, he’s had a great deal of—shall we say—difficulty allowing his children to grow up and move on. Actually, they’re not really children anymore. Even Pepper, the youngest, is seventeen now.”
Michael sat back in the seat of the buggy and tipped his hat back. “Didn’t I hear that his son had married not long ago and Meg and Sam fairly recently?”
“Yes, that’s correct, but in both cases, it was difficult to get him to accept it. So when Rose decided she wanted to volunteer—actually hand off her ranch responsibilities and travel to the schoolhouse each day—I never thought for a moment that her father would agree so easily. Never expected that.”
“Now, Suzanne, he’s changed quite a bit in the last year or so. Give him some benefit of the doubt.” James turned down the street toward the boardinghouse and Michael sat forward, ready to hop out of the buggy. The girls were asleep and he was sure they were eager to get them home and to bed.
“I appreciate the background. We will all be working closely together, and that helps,” Michael said as the buggy drew up to the boardinghouse and stopped. He stood and hopped out, reaching his hand up to shake James’s. “Thank you for the ride, James. And thank you for the assistance. I sure would have been at a disadvantage had I gone alone.” He tipped his hat and turned, his foot on the first step of the porch.
“Michael, things are going better than could be expected. You’ll see. Everything will be fine.” Suzanne nodded at him and turned back to the girls.
“Famous last words,” James threw in Michael’s direction as he flicked the reins, prodding the horses to continue.
Michael reached the top of the stairs and stood on the porch, leaning against the railing of the boarding house as he watched them turn the corner, heading to their own home. He turned and reached for the boarding house door and hoped they were right.
Chapter 12
The remainder of the evening had gone well and Rose finally had a good night’s sleep after her father’s favorable nod—although conditional—to the idea of her volunteering in the classroom. She woke early, as the first rays of the sun shone through her window.
She reached her hand under her pillow, assuring herself that her favorite book was in its proper place before she pulled the patchwork quilt up and made her bed. Pulling on her blue day dress, she smoothed the skirts and fastened the buttons. She reached into her wardrobe and grabbed her work boots, dust still on them, but stopped and looked at them before returning them to her wardrobe and reaching for a different pair of shoes, ones more suitable for her day in the classroom. She wouldn’t be milking cows or gathering eggs today.
Her first day in the classroom! She twirled in front of her mirror, tucking her brown curls into a chignon at the base of her neck and fastening it with a tortoiseshell comb her mother had given her—just like the one Meg had. Satisfied that she looked more like a teacher that way, she reached for her wrap and swung it over her shoulders.
The clock hadn’t yet rung seven and Rose paced in the parlor, anxious for the time to come that she could go to the school. They hadn’t discussed a particular time, but she had decided that she would arrive at eight o’clock, only because it was the time that school had started when she attended. Thinking back to those days, she remembered how badly her stomach had grumbled when she’d been in such a hurry to get to school that she’d forgotten to take anything for lunch and she quickly headed to the kitchen, hoping that there was something from the fiesta the night before that she could take with her.
“I was hoping you’d remember to have some breakfast before you went off to school.” Maria stood by the stove, stirring the large pot of porridge that was a breakfast staple.
“I honestly did forget, Maria. I came to see if there was something I could take for lunch.” Rose opened the bread box, peering inside hoping to see a leftover empanada, the turnovers that Maria had made for the prior evening.
Maria closed the door on the side of the stove and twisted the lever tightly. “Sit down for a moment and eat some porridge. I’ll pack you something to take.”
Spoon and bowl in hand, Rose helped herself to some porridge and sat down at the table, twirling on her way from the stove to her chair.
“I can’t remember you being this excited about anything since the last day of school. I think you did that very twirl every school day,” Maria said, her hand poised over a small cloth bag as she filled it for Rose.
“But never on Saturday or Sunday. I remember, too, and I actually don’t think I have been this excited since. I loved school.” Rose tried to eat her porridge but her fluttering stomach made it impossible. She gave up and set her bowl by the sink, glancing apologetically at Maria.
“Don’t worry. Peppe
r always has seconds and I’ll give her that. It won’t be wasted.” Maria tied up the bag and held it out to Rose. “This should do. There’s a little something in there for Mr. Tate, too. He seemed very nice, and certainly was handsome.”
Rose reached for the bag, her head cocked to one side as she raised her eyebrow at Maria. “You think he’s handsome?”
“I do—and I know you do, too. I saw the way you looked at him.” Maria winked at Rose as she reached out, grabbed her shoulders and turned Rose toward the door.
“I don’t think I even looked at him at all, let alone in any way special,” Rose said, perplexed by the heated flushing of her cheeks. She hadn’t, had she?
“Say what you like, but I know these things. Just don’t forget that you’re a grown woman, Rose. Meg is married now, so don’t forget you should be next.”
“I have no interest in marrying, certainly not any time soon. I only want to help in the classroom. And besides, he’s sent for a mail order bride. I don’t even think of him in that way.” Rose pushed the swinging door open and looked back at Maria before it swung shut, sighing at Maria’s broad smile and another wink.
Ben had brought the small buggy around for her and tied the horses up to the post. With one last glance at the grandfather clock, Rose untied the horses and pulled herself up into the buggy, her nose and cheeks tingling in the crisp morning air.
“Hold up there, Miss Rose.”
She turned to look behind her, and as Ben ran up to the buggy, she said, “What is it, Ben? Are the horses not ready to go?”
Ben took off his hat, fiddling with the brim as he looked at his boots. “Ah, your pa asked me to drive you in to town. Said we might need the buggy while you were at the schoolhouse.”
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