Thirteen

Addy peeped out from behind the curtain hung to separate the actors from the rest of the room. She almost giggled at the sight of proud mamas seated on the small chairs that usually sat behind the students’ desks. Johnny’s mother had somehow managed to fit her portly body on one of the chairs, albeit squeezed tightly against Clara May’s tiny bit of a mother on one side and Mrs. Marshall on the other. Ma and Addy perched on their chairs, with Betty on Ma’s lap. At last year’s Christmas party, Addy had planned to ask folks to bring chairs but was informed by several students that the parents always managed fine on the children’s chairs and they probably wouldn’t like it if she tried to change things.

Most of the men were lined up against the back wall, including Pa and Rafe, who each held one of the twins.

She scanned the room for Jim, but he hadn’t yet arrived. Perhaps he wouldn’t be back in time.

When it appeared that everyone was there who was coming, Addy stepped out and smiled at the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are so pleased you could come tonight. Your children have worked hard on this presentation, which depicts the history of transportation in our region. When the play is over, please feel free to look over the essays and pictures that are posted on the walls. The front wall from side to side is our joint project and tells the same story that you will see performed live. The other walls contain individual illustrated essays about the first train into Branson. These contain your children’s own thoughts about the events of that day. We hope you will enjoy your evening. At this time, I’d like to introduce our narrator, Miss Annie Brown.”

Hearty applause sounded across the room as fourteen-year-old Annie stepped out wearing a long, pioneer-type dress with an old-fashioned bonnet atop her head.

The curtain was pulled back, and Johnny and Sam, faces painted and dressed in buckskins, stepped in through the door. Each of the boys wore a band around his head with a feather sticking up proudly. With solemn looks on their faces, befitting the stalwart race they represented, each led an Indian pony across the front of the room while Annie told the story of the native population of Branson many years ago and their mode of transportation.

Whistles and clapping thundered through the schoolhouse as the boys led the ponies down the side aisle toward the front door. The effect of their solemn expressions was spoiled as they gave war cries while leading the ponies through the door.

Addy closed her eyes and shook her head while laughter exploded from the men. But she grinned and breathed a sigh of relief that there’d been no accidents. She hadn’t relished the thought of cleaning up horse manure.

Next a small covered wagon made of cardboard and sheets rolled across the room. Two boys dressed up like oxen pulled the wagon along. No one seemed to mind that instead of four wheels, eight feet stuck out the bottom.

Addy, directing things, still managed to keep an eye out for Jim. The covered wagon had just made its way through the front door when his tall form stepped inside. His eyes searched the room until they spotted her. Addy attempted to keep her delight and excitement from her countenance, but when he grinned, she was pretty sure she hadn’t succeeded.

She made it through the rest of the program without too many glances toward the back wall where he stood.

The final mode of transportation to be displayed was the students’ pride and glory. A huge black engine made of cardboard chugged across the stage followed by two freight cars. The audience showed its approval of the train and the actors by whistles and applause.

When the train had made its way outside, Annie explained that as soon as the two ends of the White River Line met and connected, they would have passenger coaches as well.

The curtain was drawn again as all the students made their way back inside through the back door. Then it was pulled open, and with Addy on the piano, the class sang the closing song, “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” When the chorus began for the second time, most of the audience members joined in.

Addy glanced at the crowd. From the proud looks on their faces and the jovial comments they made to one another, it was apparent the program was a huge success. Once more she reminded the guests not to leave before looking at the projects on the walls.

She glanced around for Jim. He stood reading one of the essays with a smile on his face. Her heart thumped. Of course he would find the essays interesting. He had interests in the railroad coming into Branson.

Suddenly a thought popped into her mind. She had no idea what those interests were. They had never really discussed what Jim did for a living. They always seemed to talk about her. She blushed. He must think she was terribly self-centered.

She pursed her lips. She was pretty sure it had something to do with the railroad. Didn’t it? Oh dear, somehow she must turn their conversation to him when they spoke again. Or perhaps she should ask Abby. That way she wouldn’t have to admit she didn’t know anything about him except that he was handsome, he was Rafe’s best friend, and he thought she was pretty.

She started as he appeared at her side. “Good evening, Jim.”

“A very good evening,” he said. “Your students are talented.”

“Thank you. I think so, too. Fenton Taylor is a fine artist, and Annie Bolton writes very well.”

“Yes, I saw her essay. She shows a lot of promise.” He smiled into her eyes.

Addy fidgeted under his scrutiny. She cleared her throat. “Well, I’d best get this room straightened up.”

“I’ll help.”

“Oh, there’s no need. I’ll come in next week and put things away and do a thorough cleaning.” She glanced at him and smiled. “But thank you for the offer.”

“Then will you allow me to accompany you home? I’ll just ride next to your buggy. That way your family won’t need to wait for you.”

“That would be kind. I’d like that very much.”

A ride home in the moonlight? Was that really wise? She took a deep breath. Who cared if it was wise? Jim was a perfect gentleman, and she’d be quite safe with him.

❧

What was he doing? Jim mentally kicked himself. He’d had every intention of watching the program then saying good night, having made the decision not to spend time with Addy until Sunday when he’d have a chance to talk to her. It wasn’t fair of him to seek her out when she wasn’t aware of the facts concerning his plans for the future. But one glance at the joy on her face when she saw him standing there and he could no more have left than he could have jumped in ice water.

Now as Jim held Finch back to keep pace with her buggy, his breath caught as moonlight danced in her hair and touched her brow. Inwardly he groaned. Every time he was near her, he felt the attachment grow. If something wasn’t settled soon, would he be able to walk away?

Perhaps he should talk to her tonight. But no, he wanted to be able to focus his attention on her. To have a chance to read her face, in case she avoided revealing her feelings. Anyway, a road in the moonlight wasn’t the place.

The silence had gone on too long. He noticed confusion cross her face and groped for a safe conversation. “So, has Annie Bolton shown an interest in writing before?”

“Yes, she showed me a tablet full of poems and stories she’s written, starting with a little poem she composed when she was seven.” She smiled. “It went like this. ‘The moon is smiling from the sky. If I could fly so would I.’ ”

Jim laughed. “Well, I’ve heard worse. At least it rhymes.”

“Actually, I think it shows a lot of imagination for a seven year old.” She smiled at him, her eyes dancing.

Oh Lord, help me. He’d found himself speaking to God a number of times lately. His recent visits to church must have had more of an effect on him than he’d realized.

“You may be right. What do you plan to do about it?”

Surprise flashed in her eyes. “Why, I’m not sure. Of course, I’ll encourage her to continue her efforts and see where it leads.”

He frowned and shook his head.

“What?” she asked. “What do you think I should do?”

“Maybe you could try to find a mentor to help her.”

“But where? I don’t know any professional writers or even writing instructors. Do you?”

“Well, no. Perhaps you could try the nearest university. They may have some suggestions.” Why had he brought up the subject in the first place? What did he know about writers?

She frowned. “Maybe.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m looking forward to Sunday.”

Her eyes brightened. “You are? Oh, I am, too.”

His breath caught. If she was this excited about their dinner together, maybe there was some hope after all.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying church services. Reverend Smith’s sermons are very uplifting.” She frowned. “Most of the time.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that she was speaking of church and not dining with him or amused that she was still miffed about the sermon from Song of Solomon. Amusement won, and he pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.

She glanced his way and caught his expression. Indignation crossed her face, and he quickly composed himself.

“Yes, the reverend is quite effective. He seems to know his Bible quite well, too.” Realizing that might not go over right, he added, “I especially liked his sermon about the crossing of the Red Sea a while back.”

She peered at him, probably to make sure he was serious, then smiled. “Yes, it was very good even though he did get quite loud a few times.”

“I’m also very much looking forward to our dinner engagement.” There, hopefully she still planned to accompany him.

She nodded and gave him a sweet smile. “It was very kind of you to invite me. I’m looking forward to it as well.”

They turned onto the lane leading to the Sullivan farm. Lamps in the parlor gave out an inviting warmth. A twinge of sadness bit at Jim. He hadn’t experienced that since his mother died when he was twenty. His father had passed on a few years before that, but somehow his mother had managed to keep home intact until she, too, was gone.

Could he ask Addy to leave a loving family and the warmth of home to travel from city to city, state to state? Even if she agreed, would she eventually hate him for it? And what sort of life would that be for children? The situation seemed to be growing bleaker. At the moment, it seemed almost impossible.

They stopped in front of the house. He dismounted and helped her down as Jack stepped out onto the porch.

“Don’t worry about the rig, Jim,” Jack said. “I’ll take care of it later. Lexie told me to invite you in for a late supper.”

“Are you sure it won’t be an inconvenience, sir?” Did they see the needy side of him? Maybe they were taking pity on him. Nonsense, they knew nothing of his parents or his lack of family.

“If I thought it would be inconvenient, I wouldn’t have invited you. Come on in, Jim.” He held the screen door open and motioned them inside.

Grateful, Jim grinned and started up the steps. Whatever happened Sunday, he was going to enjoy this time with Addy and her family.