Montana Rose Read Free Page B

breath, not daring to move for fear she would break the spell and this cheerful welcome was merely another figment of her vivid imagination.
    But it wasn’t. Her eyes were drawn to the round oak table with a lace tablecloth and a small jar of wildflowers in the center. A pleasant odor of beeswax and honeysuckle tickled her nose.
    The kitchen range with its shiny, black top and two warming ovens, would surely heat the room, and if she left the door open, some of the classroom. It took no trick of the imagination to see the teakettle, now resting on the back of the stove, whistling merrily with hot water for tea. In fact, and she eyed the wood neatly stacked in a box beside the stove, a cup of tea would be heaven right now. As soon as she finished exploring, she’d bring in her bags and start a fire. Whoever had prepared this pleasing room wouldn’t mind — after all, it was hers — at least for the time being. She smiled fondly at the beckoning rocker, snuggled near the stove.
    Rose ran her hands over the cold stovetop and lifted the lid to the attached reservoir. With a fire going in the range, there would be hot water. A luxury for dishes, washings, and baths.
    She drew back the heavy curtain separating the sleeping area. It was then Rose knew beyond a doubt that Wisteria had been the one who put the homey touches to her sister’s new home.
    Gently, she touched the familiar quilt gracing the inviting bed. Years ago, Petunia had made it for her and Wisteria. Rose had loved that quilt and wanted it for her very own. There had been grumbling and much arguing before the girls had agreed to share. Now, Wisteria had given it to her to enjoy. And the memories of two girls snuggled beneath it, giggling and sharing secrets, would be enjoyed, too.
    “Thank you, Wisteria,” Rose whispered, blinking back the tears filling her eyes.
    Miraculously, all her earlier doubts left her, banished by the love-filled Morning Star quilt and the teakettle waiting to be filled. She could do this. She was a fighter. Anyone who could rope and drag a bawling calf out of a sucking mud bed could figure out a lesson plan. Today, she’d unpack and settle in. Tomorrow, she’d start the outline. Surely, the previous teacher had left some sort of curriculum.
    Rose raised her arms and began removing the pins out of the firmly attached hat. Placing it gently on the bedside table, she began to free the coronet of braids. It was pure bliss to comb her fingers through her long, unbound hair, enjoying the freedom from the scalp-pricking hairpins and the heavy hat. Her traveling coat followed, as did the uncomfortable boots. A sigh of relief passed her lips. With determination, she placed one stocking-clad foot in front of the other and walked back through the waiting classroom to get her bags. Yes, tomorrow was another day. A challenge to be met and conquered.

Chapter 5
    It seemed to Rose that she had just closed her eyes when a pounding on the schoolhouse door jerked her awake. Someone called her name.
    Grabbing a duster, she stumbled through the rooms, and, recognizing the voice, threw open the door.
    Wisteria pulled her forward in a fierce hug.
    “I’m so sorry, Rose,” she said breathlessly. “We thought you were coming today. Oh, how awful to arrive alone with no one to help you. Can you ever forgive me?” The apology bubbled out of Wisteria along with several more hugs.
    “Silly goose. There’s nothing to forgive. I got the days mixed up. Still , you could have left more than one loaf of your delicious anadama bread. Let’s see if the range still has hot coals from where I banked it last night. I’ll put on the teakettle. We’ll have what I had for supper, tea, and the last few slices of bread.”
    “It’s so good to have you here in Wise River.” Wisteria’s face clouded. “But I’m sorry you had to sell your homestead. You had such great plans.” Wisteria took a seat at the table and watched her bustle about the room, shaking the