heads bent to work, he led Rosie to his desk at the front of the room. “Now, Miss Kingsley, may I ask your teaching qualifications?”
“My father is a physician in Kansas City. I attended Park College, in Platte County, to study Latin, art, music and science. My marks were excellent, and I’m confident I can pass the examination of any school board.”
“Miss Kingsley, I founded this school with the intent of forming a much larger institution. My wife and I have high hopes of establishing an independent school district in Raton according to territorial law. As you can see, we suffer from overcrowding here, and I fear my students are lagging behind other pupils of like age who have enjoyed better school privileges. At my request the school commission recently voted to extend our school term in order to give the students better preparation as they continue in their education. A good many of these boys and girls will one day attend high school, and some will even want to go on to college. We intend for them to be able to compete with their peers.”
“Wonderful,” Rosie said, impressed with the man’s dedication.
“The voters of Precinct Six have petitioned an election for this purpose, and it will take place the last Saturday of the month. If it passes, the school term will continue through July.”
“July! That should allow plenty of time for the students to make up what they’ve missed.”
“Should the election turn out favorably, however, I’m afraid I will be without a teacher. My regular instructor has…” Here he paused to survey the room, then he leaned closer toward Rosie. “The primary school teacher has elected to return to Chicago as the bride of a young lawyer of her acquaintance.”
Rosie’s heart swelled with hope. “I would be honored to fill the teaching position your difficult situation has made available.”
He pulled at his mustache for a moment before responding. “Return tomorrow morning, Miss Kingsley, after I’ve had time to ponder this.”
“Yes, Mr. Kilgore. Thank you for considering me.”
Light-headed with optimism, she shook his hand firmly before making her way to the door.
As she raced back to the restaurant, Rosie laid out a plan. If she were to get Bart Kingsley safely out of her room and on his way, he would need something decent to wear. Her Harvey Girl salary of seventeen dollars and fifty cents a month plus tips, room, board, laundry and travel expenses left plenty of spending money. She had saved nearly all her income toward her goal to buy a small house. But she was more than willing to spend a dollar or two on a new shirt if it meant she could send Bart away. Far, far away.
After the evening trains had pulled away and the dining room had been set in order, the Harvey Girlsclimbed the long stairway to their dormitory hall. Even though it was well after ten, Rosie was wide-awake as she clutched the shirt she had purchased and opened her bedroom door.
“Bart?” she called softly.
“Over here, Rosie.” His deep voice came from the corner by the window. “I waited for you. I wanted to say goodbye.”
She lifted the glass globe of her lamp and lit the wick. Bart was dressed in his buckskin jacket and denim trousers. But the warrior with shining black hair and bright green eyes was not the wounded wreck who had crawled out from under her bed.
She looked away. “The sooner you leave, the more of a head start you’ll have on the sheriff. He’s still after you. He was in the restaurant talking about how wicked you are.”
“I reckon I am, Rosie.”
She shrugged. “As the Bible says, sow the wind and reap the whirlwind. If Sheriff Bowman gets his hands on you, he’s going to shoot you dead. He wants the fifty-dollar reward.”
“Then I reckon I’d better not let him find me.” With a gentle smile on his face, he walked toward her.
Rosie winced at the thud of his boots on the hollow wood floor, but it was the nearness of the man that made her
“My father is a physician in Kansas City. I attended Park College, in Platte County, to study Latin, art, music and science. My marks were excellent, and I’m confident I can pass the examination of any school board.”
“Miss Kingsley, I founded this school with the intent of forming a much larger institution. My wife and I have high hopes of establishing an independent school district in Raton according to territorial law. As you can see, we suffer from overcrowding here, and I fear my students are lagging behind other pupils of like age who have enjoyed better school privileges. At my request the school commission recently voted to extend our school term in order to give the students better preparation as they continue in their education. A good many of these boys and girls will one day attend high school, and some will even want to go on to college. We intend for them to be able to compete with their peers.”
“Wonderful,” Rosie said, impressed with the man’s dedication.
“The voters of Precinct Six have petitioned an election for this purpose, and it will take place the last Saturday of the month. If it passes, the school term will continue through July.”
“July! That should allow plenty of time for the students to make up what they’ve missed.”
“Should the election turn out favorably, however, I’m afraid I will be without a teacher. My regular instructor has…” Here he paused to survey the room, then he leaned closer toward Rosie. “The primary school teacher has elected to return to Chicago as the bride of a young lawyer of her acquaintance.”
Rosie’s heart swelled with hope. “I would be honored to fill the teaching position your difficult situation has made available.”
He pulled at his mustache for a moment before responding. “Return tomorrow morning, Miss Kingsley, after I’ve had time to ponder this.”
“Yes, Mr. Kilgore. Thank you for considering me.”
Light-headed with optimism, she shook his hand firmly before making her way to the door.
As she raced back to the restaurant, Rosie laid out a plan. If she were to get Bart Kingsley safely out of her room and on his way, he would need something decent to wear. Her Harvey Girl salary of seventeen dollars and fifty cents a month plus tips, room, board, laundry and travel expenses left plenty of spending money. She had saved nearly all her income toward her goal to buy a small house. But she was more than willing to spend a dollar or two on a new shirt if it meant she could send Bart away. Far, far away.
After the evening trains had pulled away and the dining room had been set in order, the Harvey Girlsclimbed the long stairway to their dormitory hall. Even though it was well after ten, Rosie was wide-awake as she clutched the shirt she had purchased and opened her bedroom door.
“Bart?” she called softly.
“Over here, Rosie.” His deep voice came from the corner by the window. “I waited for you. I wanted to say goodbye.”
She lifted the glass globe of her lamp and lit the wick. Bart was dressed in his buckskin jacket and denim trousers. But the warrior with shining black hair and bright green eyes was not the wounded wreck who had crawled out from under her bed.
She looked away. “The sooner you leave, the more of a head start you’ll have on the sheriff. He’s still after you. He was in the restaurant talking about how wicked you are.”
“I reckon I am, Rosie.”
She shrugged. “As the Bible says, sow the wind and reap the whirlwind. If Sheriff Bowman gets his hands on you, he’s going to shoot you dead. He wants the fifty-dollar reward.”
“Then I reckon I’d better not let him find me.” With a gentle smile on his face, he walked toward her.
Rosie winced at the thud of his boots on the hollow wood floor, but it was the nearness of the man that made her
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