Tillie's Theatre (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 20)

by Keira K. Barton

  With that thought, Tillie knew she would risk her resolve to continue courting if she stayed any longer. “I think I should go.”

  The hurt Tillie saw in William’s downturned mouth, and the rigid way he moved as he backed away to lengthen the distance between them, made the heaviness within her grow. That feeling turned sharp and cut like a knife when William stared her straight in the eyes and said, “Mrs. Jones! Have Mr. Jones ready the carriage. It’s time for Miss Thompson to go.”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, William met Mr. Caldwell and Tillie outside the vacant building that would be the Marshfield school. At their meeting the night before, Mr. Hollingsworth had informed Tillie that the building had been cleaned in preparation for her arrival, but upon William’s request, he’d left out the fact that William had purchased a blackboard, and had several benches made. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Tillie’s face when they walked in together today.

  “Hello, William. I didn’t know you’d be coming over this morning.” Tillie looked beautiful. The sky was covered in dark gray clouds, and it made Tillie’s usually bright blue eyes appear stormy and dark. With her thick dark lashes framing them, she looked mysterious, and clever—like a gray fox.

  “I wanted to see what you thought of the building. I felt bad that we didn’t have a chance to look at it last night. I never expected that you’d want to open the school so soon after meeting with Mr. Hollingsworth. Besides, I couldn’t miss wishing you luck on your first day.”

  William and Tillie were face-to-face at the door of the building, and he could feel a playful smile grow on his lips as he studied her determined face. Every time he was around her, she brought out a lightheartedness in him that he hadn’t known was there. She approached everything with such a fierce passion, it was magnetic. He’d left his office as soon as he’d seen Mr. Caldwell’s buggy drive past, but she must have jumped out and ran to the door because she was about to put the key into the lock when he’d walked up on her. He’d barely caught her before she’d gone in.

  “Thank you,” she said quickly, then turned away, refocusing on inserting the key into the lock. When the big wooden door creaked open, dust particles floated in the stream of light that shone through the opening. All the windows had thick curtains that were blocking out the light, and the first thing Tillie did was walk over to each one and push back their coverings.

  “Ah, much better,” she said after she’d let as much light in as possible. She turned around to take in the rest of the room, and William felt a satisfied jolt in his stomach when her mouth gaped open at the sight she beheld.

  In front of her were six benches arranged into three rows with an aisle separating them into two sections. On each bench were stacks of slate boards for the children who would occupy them. William watched as Tillie’s eyes moved to the front of the classroom, where there was a desk set up for her. Hanging on the wall behind the desk was a brand new blackboard, and next to that was a large map.

  “I—I never would have expected…” Tillie’s voice trailed off as she ran her fingers along the blackboard, then rushed over to the desk and opened each of its three drawers. “I can’t believe Mr. Hollingsworth forgot to inform me that he’d already supplied the school with all of these necessities. This is so much more than I had dared to hope for. I would have been happy with the building simply because of all the windows!”

  William’s satisfied grin was starting to feel permanent. He was glad that Tillie had assumed all of this was Mr. Hollingsworth’s doing, and not his. It would save him from telling a white lie so Tillie wasn’t aware of all of his contributions.

  “As I told you before, Mr. Hollingsworth is a generous man.” That’s still true, William thought.

  Tillie rushed over to William. “Please tell him thank you for me. I can’t wait for the children to arrive. Oh, what a wonderful day!”

  William had never seen Tillie look so beautiful. He was happy to be able to help her with establishing this school, but her statements from the other night were still lingering in the back of his mind. Surely her emphasis on theatre wouldn’t be as exaggerated as she had made it seem. He couldn’t fathom such a smart, sensible girl wasting her time with such nonsense. He felt so conflicted about his feelings for her. It deeply worried him that perhaps he didn’t know her as well as he’d convinced himself he had. Education was sacred, and not to be diluted with stagecraft. But she was so…inspiring. Not to mention caring. The night before, she had sensed even the slightest changes in his mood, and she’d been so tender. Perhaps he could look past her weird infatuation with drama.

  Unsettled by the thoughts that had just surfaced, William decided to leave Tillie to prepare for the arrival of her students, and he prayed she had the success she was hoping for. He knew he’d be watching out the window of his office to see how many children were parading down the street to attend school that day. With any luck, it would be a large crowd.

  “Tillie?”

  “Hmm?” Tillie was sitting behind her desk, riffling through a crate of things that Mr. Caldwell must have brought in at some point, though William hadn’t noticed the man come in, and there was no sign of him now.

  “Good luck today. I’m going to head back to the office so you can get ready to meet your class, but would you come over at lunch and let me know how things go?”

  Tillie glanced up and met his eyes. The dancing light in them was breathtaking, and it stopped him in his tracks. “Sure, I’ll come by. Could you help me with something first?” She laid down a clock she had just pulled out of the crate on her desk, and then proceeded to pull out a hammer and some nails as well. “I wanted to hang this up before I start class today. I can’t have order without a set schedule, and I need a clock the children can see. In my experience, it helps them to be more accountable.”

  William was fixated on her lips again, and he had to remind himself that she’d just asked a question. “Of—of course,” he stammered as he strode over to the desk. “Where would you like it?”

  Tillie picked up the clock and turned to face the wall. “I think maybe there,” she said, pointing above the blackboard. “Do you think you’ll be able to reach?”

  William looked to the spot where she was pointing. “I don’t think I can without something to stand on, but here, let me just try—” Before he could even finish his sentence, he walked over to Tillie’s desk and shoved it up against the wall, then shrugged off his suit coat.

  “Oh, please be careful!” Tillie said as William climbed up on top of the desk.

  He smiled wickedly. He didn’t know why, but knowing she was concerned about his well-being was incredibly satisfying. “Don’t worry, Til. I may just be a doctor, but I was on the rowing team at Harvard. I hope I haven’t lost all my dexterity in the past few years. Hammer.”

  Tillie handed William the hammer.

  “Nail.”

  Til? Something about the informal way he addressed her made her knees go weak. When she’d first met William, he’d seemed so rigid, but as she spent more time with him, she noticed that he saved a special part of his personality for her. No one else saw this side of Dr. Powers. She was quite certain of that.

  Tillie’s heart was beating wildly in her chest. She wished it was out of worry, but it definitely was not. She could feel heat spreading in her belly as she watched William working. Rowing. No wonder he looked so strong. She’d admired his strong arms after dinner the night before when he’d taken off his suit coat and rolled up his sleeves to pour himself a nightcap. Now she was admiring his backside, which was so nicely displayed as he stood on his toes to reach up and hammer the nail into the wall.

  “Clock.”

  Tillie reached up to hand William the clock, and when his hand brushed over hers, her body responded with a rush of butterflies in her stomach. She wondered if he felt the heat between the two them as well.

  William hung the clock and was leaning back to make sure it wasn’t crooked when his right foot slip
ped off the backside of the desk. Tillie was immediately jolted out of her trance, and she put her hands up to stop William from falling.

  She couldn’t deny the tingles she felt flooding down her arms as her hands pressed up against his strong legs. She could feel the warmth of his body as she steadied him atop the desk, and it made her stomach flip. “My goodness. Are you all right? I thought I told you to be careful!” Tillie hoped she could make him believe her flushed cheeks were due to the fact that she’d exerted herself to help him stay upright, and not due to his very attractive muscles that she’d been studying since he’d climbed up onto her desk.

  William tried to turn around, and Tillie realized that she was still holding his legs. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she said, jumping back.

  “Don’t apologize. You just saved my life,” William said as he climbed down from her desk. “Here I am talking about the good ol’ days at Harvard, and I nearly maim myself trying to hang a clock. You must think I’m pathetic.” He shook his head and smiled a dazzling smile that simply intensified everything Tillie was feeling. She could feel her cheeks grow even hotter.

  “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  William took a step closer to Tillie, leaving only inches between them. “I wouldn’t have been, without you,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Thank you, Til.” His warm breath caressed the skin on the back of her hand as he leaned down and kissed it.

  The fluttering Tillie had felt in her stomach suddenly jumped into her heart, and she briefly wondered what it would it would feel like for those lips to touch hers. She let herself fall into the fantasy of being Dr. William Powers’s wife, but it was short-lived.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, pulling her hand away slowly. “And thank you for hanging my clock. Even with the desk, I would have been much too short to reach.”

  Tillie walked back around her desk, but not before she saw the flash of hurt in William’s eyes at her sudden change in demeanor. She reminded herself that she had a job to do that day. She was in Marshfield to teach children, and not to daydream about a future with the doctor. Especially when it was so uncertain anyway. Right now, the only sure ground she had to stand on was the lease she’d signed with Mr. Hollingsworth, and the generosity of the Caldwells.

  “I think I already said this once, but good luck today. I know the children of Marshfield are going to love you.”

  Tillie could hear William’s footsteps as he walked toward the door, but she didn’t look up. She was too busy wondering why she was fighting such a strong attraction to such a suitable man. It didn’t make any sense.

  After William left, Tillie got so excited about having her own school that she was able to push aside the feelings she’d felt earlier that morning. As she busied herself preparing for children to arrive, she was almost able to forget that she was supposed to be upset with him. They still hadn’t talked about his comments about theatre from the other night, and Tillie had to keep pushing them out of her mind. Luckily, today it wasn’t hard—well, at least after William was out of sight. All of her thoughts became completely consumed with daydreams of the wonderful students who would come, and how much fun they would have as they learned from each other.

  Tillie ran through the opening remarks she planned to give. She was quite certain that none of them would be expecting to have such a boldly arts-centered curriculum at school, but she hoped at least some of the students would be excited about the projects she had in mind, namely the Independence Day performance she’d been planning since the moment she’d boarded the train in New York City.

  With that in mind, Tillie dug out her notebook from her crate of supplies and reviewed the notes she’d jotted down. Her ideas were still scattered, and she needed to write out the dialogue, but the basic concept was there. Each student would highlight an American hero in a small scene, and those scenes would be knitted together to create a cohesive story of the birth of the United States of America. Tillie had always been very patriotic, and she was excited that the first performance she would direct would be about such a worthy subject.

  After she reviewed the notes about the play for a moment, Tillie searched the crate again for a bell she’d brought, and she set it on her desk. She needed something to get the children’s attention if her voice wasn’t loud enough. Next she took a small box of chalk and set it next to the bell. She’d need that for the blackboard. She doubted any of the children would bring pencils for their slates, though, so she also had a stash of those. She wondered how basic she would have to start lessons. Would any of them read? Would any of these precious children write, or know even simple addition? It was hard to say.

  Within a half hour of William leaving, Tillie jumped at the sound of the door opening, and she couldn’t hide her smile when a large group of children entered. She didn’t even mind that the group included MaryAnne Coombs and her children. She was looking forward to meeting the other two mothers who had also come with theirs.

  “Hello, MaryAnne, it’s nice to see you again. I’m so happy that you’re here to introduce me to your children.” Tillie’s smile and excitement were genuine, but they were definitely due to the three cherub-faced, blond-haired, blue-eyed children.

  “Yes, yes, yes. Children, this is Miss Thompson, your new teacher. And Miss Thompson, this is my oldest daughter, Christina, who is ten. Then we have Amanda, who is seven, and this is little Willard, who is five.” MaryAnne ruffled her son’s hair, and he looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

  Tillie giggled. “Nice to meet you all. I’m very excited to have the three of you in my class.”

  After she met the Coombs children, the other two mothers introduced themselves and their children. By the time the three women had left, there were several more children who arrived without their mothers. All in all, Tillie ended up with fourteen students of varying ages, the oldest of whom was a fifteen-year-old boy named Joshua Reed, who looked extremely annoyed to be surrounded by so many young children.

  The next-oldest student was a girl named Mary Ellen Rowling, who was fourteen. Tillie had a feeling that Mary would be her right hand while she tried to teach so many different levels. Teaching students whose ages varied so widely was not going to be easy, especially at first, but Tillie knew she was up for the task. She’d worked with all the students—no matter their age or grade level—on her productions at the Wigg School, and she could do it again as long as these children showed her the respect she would need to keep things in order.

  Right now the room was buzzing with chatter, and Tillie needed to get things under control and deliver her opening remarks so each child knew what to expect in her classroom.

  “Children! Children! Your attention, please.” Tillie rang her bell as she spoke, and to her great relief, the room grew silent.

  “Thank you. There are a few things I wanted to go over today before we begin our lesson, as this is the first time any of you have been in my classroom.” Tillie’s eyes darted from one face to the next, searching for signs of how each child was feeling, and she was happy to note that besides Joshua, everyone seemed attentive and happy to be there.

  “First, school will begin at eight o’clock each morning. There will be no punishments for being tardy—however, it is a sign of great disrespect to me, your fellow classmates, and yourself to show up late. I hope that all of you will make the commitment to be on time each day, and not think about it again until you’ve moved on from my classroom. We will dismiss for lunch at noon, and during the summer, that is when the school day will end. During the winter, lunch will end at half past noon and school will be dismissed at two thirty in the afternoon.

  Second, we will start each class with a prayer and . . . ” Tillie glanced around the room. “. . . a scripture just as soon as I can locate a Bible. Third, we will be splitting up into three groups based on your level of knowledge, not your age. Everyone will take a simple placement test tomorrow for each subject. There will be some students who are younger but more advanced than older
students, and the groups may vary between subjects. Don’t despair if you feel out of place in your groups. They are fluid, and we will adjust them as needed.

  And finally, I want to prepare you all for a very special project we will be doing in a few weeks. We will have to work really hard to be ready in time, but I have planned for us to perform a play for Independence Day!” Tillie saw several of the children’s eyes light up at the idea of performing, but she also heard a few groans throughout the room as well. Not that she could blame them. She would react the same way if she were told she had to get up and perform in front of hundreds of people, or even ten people. But she wouldn’t let the children limit themselves the way she had, and she would help them and push them just enough that none of them would be permitted to let their fear fester.

  Tillie tried her best to ignore the groans. “Any questions?”

  Joshua Reed’s hand shot up immediately.

  “Yes, Joshua?”

  “Will this performance be countin’ toward our marks, ma’am?”

  Tillie could already tell that he was searching for a way out. “Yes. Actually, the performance will be the biggest portion of your grade for the summer. We will be learning a lot of history, and you’ll have to memorize all your lines. It’s going to be a lot of work, but I hope you’ll all have fun. We’ll have a performance each month that we meet for school, and it will always be the biggest factor I’ll consider for your grades. Theatre will be our center focus.”

  Joshua’s reaction wasn’t positive, but it wasn’t as poor as Tillie had prepared herself for. As she looked around the room, she saw the unmistakable clouds of fear in some of the children’s eyes, but she hoped it was simply fear of the unknown. The children would come to love performing—she was sure about that.