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Wooing the Schoolmarm
Wooing the Schoolmarm
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Wooing the Schoolmarm

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* * *

“What are you doing in here, Willa? The children are gone. And I’ve been waiting…” Ellen closed the door and swept down the aisle between the bench desks.

Willa snuffed the flame of the last lamp, raised the chandelier and turned to face her friend. “I was finishing a letter to Callie. I want to post it on my way home. You wanted something?”

“I have news.”

She looked at Ellen’s smug expression and shook her head. “Obviously, it pleases you.”

“Oh, it does.”

She nodded and stepped to the stove and twisted the handles to close the drafts for a slow burn that would preserve the fire for morning.

“Don’t you want to hear my news?”

“Of course.” She turned and grinned up at her friend. “And you will tell me as soon as you have your little dramatic moment.” She stepped to her desk and picked up her basket.

“Oh, very well.” Ellen hurried up beside her and gripped her forearm. “Reverend Calvert is coming for dinner tomorrow night!”

It took her aback. There was no denying it. And there was absolutely no reason why it should. She nodded and smiled. “That’s quite a ‘coup,’ Ellen. Every young woman in the village has been hoping to have the reverend for dinner.” She started for the door. “Was the dinner your father’s idea, or—”

“He thinks it was.” Ellen laughed and tugged the velvet collar on her coat higher as they went out the door. “I planned it, of course—with Mother’s help.”

Of course. “I’m surprised he accepted.” Really? “I know he’s turned down other invitations because of the children.” But those young women don’t possess Ellen’s beauty. She stifled a spurt of disgust and hurried down the porch steps and turned toward town.

“Yes, I’d heard, so I planned for that. I had father tell him the children were welcome.”

She stopped and stared up at Ellen. The smug look on her friend’s face made her want to shake her. “And are they welcome?”

“Of course, as long as they don’t get in the way. And they won’t. I’ve made certain of that. They will have their own meal in the breakfast room. And Isobel has been instructed to keep them there until my performance is finished.” Ellen smiled and patted her curls with a gloved hand. “I’m going to recite a Psalm. I want the reverend to see my spiritual side.”

“I’m certain he will be duly impressed.”

“He will be when he sees my new gown.” Ellen laughed and moved ahead. “Bye, Willa.” She waved a gloved hand and turned onto the stone walkway to her house.

Willa released the white-knuckled grip she had on the basket handle and marched down the sidewalk. Her disgust carried her all the way to Brody’s meat market. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face and went inside to buy pork chops for their supper. A supper that would have included children at the table—if she had had any.


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