Second Chance Bride

by Jane Myers Perrine

  But she refused to consider that now.

  How could a person possibly learn all this? It seemed as if every time she felt comfortable and confident, she discovered she didn’t know a thing.

  Perhaps she should leave at Christmas. She’d lasted one semester—far longer than she’d expected to. Now all this new work faced her.

  And Willie Preston had come to town.

  But she loved this place. She looked around at the snug little schoolroom and the warm stove. She loved the children and they were learning. If she left, there wouldn’t be another teacher until the next October. The delay would be worse than having a teacher who didn’t know everything.

  No, she wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t allow Willie Preston to take this from her. She wouldn’t allow algebra and the Panama Canal to frighten her. She’d learn it all, even if she never slept again.

  “Dear God,” she whispered. “Please be with me. Give me the strength and ability to learn everything I must.” She paused. “And one other thing, God. I thought I was safe here, but I’m not. I can’t ask You to help me with a lie, but please, please, let me finish the school year, and I’ll never lie again. I promise.” Leaving her thoughts with God for a few minutes, she finally added, “Amen.”

  Calm filled her as she listened to the sound of the wind swirling around the small building. Even with Miss Cunningham’s past coming back in the form of the letter and package and Annie’s seeing her own past in Willie Preston’s visit to town, she knew God would guide her and grant her strength and courage.

  She also knew God would expect her to confess and reveal her identity, but she couldn’t do that yet. In a while she would. Sometime, but not with Christmas coming and the children depending on her so much.

  Of course she had to tell the truth.

  But not yet.

  With the exception of taking her to church, John hadn’t seen Matilda for three weeks. He had trouble thinking of reasons to stop by the schoolhouse when the students were there and even more trouble when they weren’t, especially since he worried about doing something that frightened her.

  He wouldn’t be here now if his daughter hadn’t given him a reason. Matilda had set up a spelling bee for today, part of several events she’d scheduled before the Christmas holiday. He’d promised five shiny pennies to the winner of the bee, and his daughter had decreed he must be there to present it. Not that he minded. He would do almost anything Elizabeth asked.

  So there he sat on his horse, watching the students play alle-over. Although it was December, the temperature was mild. He’d arrived early, which left him nothing to do but watch the children—and their teacher.

  He tried not to focus on Matilda because he feared his expression gave away his feelings. And yet he could see her well enough to notice the curly wisps of beautiful dark hair that had come loose from her tight bun and curled around her neck.

  “Father!”

  His daughter was jumping up and down, waving to him. “Hello, Elizabeth.”

  “Mr. Sullivan, how nice to see you.” Matilda smoothed her hair back before she took the ball from one of the Bryan boys. “I’m glad Elizabeth talked you into attending.”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Cunningham. Have I arrived too early?” He got down from the horse and tied the reins to the rail.

  She glanced at the watch she had pinned to her dress. “Oh, no.” She smiled, breathless, her cheeks red from playing alle-over. She was truly lovely.

  “We’re finished here, Mr. Sullivan. Please come into the schoolroom and we’ll get settled.”

  He watched as she effortlessly corralled the students and marched them inside. Each sat quietly and pulled out a few papers to study. Once the teacher reached the platform, she divided the students into teams and had them stand on either side of the room.

  “Clara, please spell ocean,” she said.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off Matilda. Her hair would not stay put, continuing to spill from its tight bun and curl around her lovely face. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing than sitting here at the Trail’s End School Spelling Bee and admiring the teacher.

  After two rounds, only a few of the students had dropped out. Matilda had comforted each, telling them what a fine job they’d done with difficult words. No wonder they all loved her. When Ida’s turn came again, she said, “Miss Cunningham, give me a hard word.”

  The teacher smiled. Had he ever noticed her pretty smile?

  Of course he had.

  “Conscience,” Matilda said.

  When the bee ended six rounds later, Ida had won and accepted the prize with the confidence of one who knew all along she’d receive the pennies. After the award presentation, John nodded to the class and left, though he wanted to stay for the rest of the day. Duffy would laugh if he knew the teacher had John acting like such an idiot.

  From the front of the classroom, Annie watched Amanda slip through the door, her arms filled with boxes. Immediately Wilber leaped to his feet to help her.

  “Children,” Annie said. “The evening of Tuesday, December twenty-second, there will be a holiday presentation here in the schoolroom, and we need to start decorating for that.”

  The students cheered, knowing her words meant an end to studying for the day.

  “Miss Hanson is going to help the girls. Boys, I need you to take the saws from the shed and go out to cut evergreen boughs.” She laughed at the speed with which they jumped up, grabbed their coats and ran outside.

  Amanda opened a box of sliced apples and oranges that she’d baked for hours. The girls got to work decorating them with ribbons.

  “Miss Hanson also brought Christmas cards.” Annie held one up. “You can cut out the pictures and the verses and make an ornament for the tree by hanging them from a ribbon.”

  After an hour, the boys returned, their arms full of branches. After decorating outside, the boys brought boughs inside and hung them on the classroom walls while Amanda and the girls placed ornaments on them.

  Annie took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Christmas. “Doesn’t it smell wonderful?” she asked.

  After the excited children left, she gave Amanda a hug and thanked her.

  Now she had to sit down and learn algebra, and more about geography, history and science. She opened the mathematics book and saw a chapter toward the back with the title “Calculus.” She didn’t even want to think about how much time that would take to master.

  With a sigh, she lifted Minnie off her desk where the kitten had been batting an ornament, placed her on a bench and began to work again.

  Never before had she joined a congregation in welcoming the Savior. Never before had she realized what the birth of the Holy Child meant to the world and to her. The fact that He had been born because He loved everyone, even sinful Annie MacAllister, amazed her. She was special. She was a beloved child of God.

  She closed her book and stood to walk to the window where the sky darkened and the first stars shone. As she watched, she drew in a deep breath and thought about the shepherds in the field and how they must have felt when the Heavenly Host appeared to them on the plain: fear and glory and wonder.

  This evening, joy and wonder filled her.

  And a depth of love for her Savior so overwhelmed her that she wrapped her arms around her body as if attempting to hold it tightly within her.

  “Thank You, dear Lord,” she whispered. “Oh, thank You.”

  After a few hours of work, anticipation and joy washed over Annie. This was the first Christmas that she would truly welcome the newborn Savior. The feeling of joy was almost too much for her to contain.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Sheriff Bennett, you’re looking very festive tonight.” Amanda gripped the poor man’s arm with determination and pulled him toward the steps into the schoolroom for the Christmas program. “Is that a new shirt?”

  As she stood at the door watching the two, Annie felt sorry for Amanda, who was experiencing her first re
jection—and a very decisive one at that. She probably shouldn’t have asked both of them to help her prepare, but she’d needed assistance.

  She wore a new basque Lucia had made her from the fabric Miss Palfrey had sent. She’d chosen lovely blue cashmere. Earlier, she’d attempted to catch her reflection in the windows, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she looked nice.

  “Sheriff Bennett, would you please put that big wreath over the desk?”

  “Matilda, I pray for patience every day,” Amanda whispered to Annie as they watched him put the wreath up. “But that man is trying what little I have left.”

  “Why don’t you pray for God to help you win the sheriff?”

  “I don’t think God works that way. I believe God has given me the tools.” She gestured toward her lovely dark green gown. “It is up to me to use them.” She sighed. “Perhaps it is just not meant to be.”

  “How does this look, Miss Cunningham?” the sheriff asked.

  “Down a little on the left side.”

  “Good evening, Miss Cunningham.” Elizabeth walked in with Lucia. “Lucia and I felt you needed something to brighten your room because people will walk all over the schoolhouse tonight.” She held up a lovely quilt with a lone star design.

  “How lovely,” Annie said. “Come, help me put this on the bed.”

  The cover brightened the room and made it look less shabby. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I’ll be so warm. It’s lovely.”

  “Elizabeth? Have you arrived yet?” John’s voice came from the schoolroom.

  “Oh, there he is.” Elizabeth skipped toward the door. “My father had to come from town. That’s why Lucia and I were early.”

  Before she left, Annie looked around her small chambers. Little by little, it had become hers. Using a length of fabric, she’d covered the area where she’d hung her clothes, Wilber had placed a piece of wood under the dresser to level its leg and now the new quilt. It felt like home.

  Hearing the buzz of conversation in the schoolroom, Annie hurried from her bedroom and began to greet the parents and other guests.

  “Grandmother, this is what I made.” Bertha pointed to her ornament on the decorated bough behind Annie’s desk.

  “Miss Hanson helped the children so much with their ornaments,” Annie told Bertha’s grandmother.

  “I didn’t realize Miss Hanson taught young children, as well as all her other praiseworthy activities,” the sheriff said, shaking his head.

  “You have no idea how talented I am.” Amanda smiled and took his arm. “Why don’t we find a nice place to enjoy the program, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  The man was doomed, at least for this evening.

  “Very nicely done.” John stood next to Annie, admiring the decorations. “I look forward to the program.”

  For a moment, she savored being near John and wished she could lean closer or put her hand on his arm. Then she glanced at her watch. Time to start. With a clap of her hands, she walked toward the front and the crowd quieted. “Welcome to the Christmas program of Trail’s End School.” First she led the group in Christmas songs interspersed with tableaux: playing in the snow and throwing snowballs, a family singing and reading the Bible and a stable scene. After several students recited and others sang, everyone joined in to sing “Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful.”

  With the program over, Annie watched the students and their guests as they wandered around the classroom looking at the displays, chatting and enjoying the cookies and lemonade.

  “Is Mr. Sullivan courting you?” The sheriff seemed to have escaped from Amanda and stood at Annie’s elbow.

  “What?” Annie whirled to face him. “Why would you think that?”

  “I’m a man.”

  “And what, exactly, does that mean?”

  “I know how a man looks at a woman he’s attracted to.”

  Annie looked around the schoolroom. John stood talking to Mrs. Johnson. As he listened to her, his gaze found Annie. That warmth she’d seen before glowed in his eyes.

  “Like that,” the sheriff said. “Most teachers would love to be courted by John Matthew Sullivan. He’s wealthy. What more could you want?”

  “I…I’m not interested. At all.”

  “You plan to be a teacher all your life? Die unmarried?”

  “Until they have to drag me out of the schoolroom.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a joke. She would love to marry and have dozens of children, but beneath the facade lay her real self, and no man would want to marry Annie. And Annie, well, she wasn’t sure she could love a man enough to have his children, despite what she’d been feeling for John.

  The sheriff studied her face. “I’ve wondered if you have a secret in your past.”

  “What do you mean?” Annie asked, startled.

  “I’ve learned to read people pretty well. But don’t worry—I won’t ask you about it. Maybe you’ll tell me one day.”

  She wouldn’t.

  “And your secrets?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I have a few. They aren’t all bad. It’s just better that no one know what they are.” He grinned for a moment, then became serious again. “I believe we’re two of a kind, Miss Cunningham. We’ve worked hard to get where we are and might prefer no one investigate very closely how we did it. Maybe we have pasts that are better left hidden.” He headed toward the refreshments.

  Two of a kind, the sheriff and Annie. Perhaps so, but she refused to let him know how close he’d come to the truth.

  By eight-thirty, most of the crowd had cleared out. She’d told the sheriff that Wilber would help clean up the next morning and watched Mr. Hanson assist his daughter into their carriage. Elizabeth and Lucia had left earlier. After everyone had departed, she looked outside and saw one horse remained. Orion. Had John waited for her outside the schoolhouse after everyone else had left?

  “Matilda, could you please bring me a lamp?” he called.

  That sounded innocent enough. She nodded and went back into the schoolroom.

  When she brought the lamp, he said, “Can you hold it for me? Right here?” He pointed close to the horse’s front left foot. “Orion’s got a rock caught under his hoof and I can’t see it. I can feel it, but it’s not coming out.” He held up a short knife to show her. “I don’t want to hurt him.” He held the hoof closer to the lamp. “I could walk him home, where I’ve got a better tool, but I don’t want him to be in pain.”

  She watched him attempt to remove the rock, his hands tender and careful with the big animal. Then a cool breeze hit her and she shivered.

  “I’m sorry. I forgot how cold it is. You should go back inside.”

  “No, this is interesting.” And it was, seeing the trust of the animal as John hunted for a way to pull the rock out. “And you need me to hold the light.”

  With a final pull, the pebble popped out. John placed the animal’s foot back on the ground and stood to put his hand on the horse’s neck. “Good boy. It’s out and you’re fine.” Then he turned toward her. “Thank you. We’re fine to go now.”

  In the shadowy solitude, Annie felt that familiar breathlessness she experienced when alone with John—only with John. He glanced at her, and in the dim glow of the lamp, she saw a vulnerability in his expression, a fierce longing that amazed her.

  Odd that vulnerability and longing should cause her to take a step back. But it did.

  “I’ve frightened you again. I’m sorry.” He straightened. “But I don’t know how I did that. Matilda, you must know I’d do nothing to hurt you.”

  She nodded. She did know that.

  “Do you know…” he began to say, then stopped as if he were reconsidering his words. “I’m very attracted to you.”

  For a moment the impulse to run came over her but he didn’t move toward her or reach in her direction. And, for some reason, she wanted to hear what he had to say.

  Because the lamp had grown heavier with each second, she put it on the ground. The light pooled around their feet but left their
expressions in shadows.

  “Please don’t be frightened,” he said. “I have thought about this for weeks, about what I want to say to you.” He paused and cleared his throat. “This is not easy for me, but I want to tell you how I feel, and I wonder if there is any chance you return my feelings.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you find me repulsive?”

  “Of course not.” How could he think such a thing? Had her behavior caused him to think this?

  “But I scare you.”

  “Not much, not anymore.” She paused. How to explain it? “Any fear I feel is no longer because of you. I’ve had…some frightening experiences in my life.”

  “Then I’m willing to wait, but I would like to know if that is a realistic thing for me to do.” Suddenly, he laughed. “I’m so relieved to know you don’t find me repulsive.”

  With a courage she didn’t know she possessed, Annie took a step forward. She could see his smile.

  “I’d like you to consider my words. I know you are a virtuous young woman. I won’t push you or alarm you in any way, but I would like to court you.”

  She stifled a gasp. “But you cannot. I cannot keep company with a man. My contract.”

  “Your contract states you won’t keep company with people of low character. I don’t believe that describes me.”

  She watched him, feeling his intense gaze on her.

  “I’m willing to wait until you feel comfortable,” he repeated. “I would like to court you.”

  She could think of nothing more to say but realized he expected an answer. “Thank you.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they sounded ridiculous.

  He took a step toward her. Annie didn’t move away.

  She could almost feel the air between them vibrating with emotion. He cared for her, she knew that. Her feelings weren’t as easily categorized. He was a handsome man. He behaved carefully with her, which meant he was kind and considerate. And yet there must be more than that or the very air wouldn’t be throbbing. Perhaps she couldn’t recognize her feelings because they were so buried beneath the experiences of the past years. But there was something very real going on between the two of them.