Second Chance Bride Read Online Free PDF Page A

taken it from her, but Mr. Ortiz caught her eye and shook his head, smiling.
    Elizabeth dropped her burden by the door to the kitchen. “My father sent us with some things for you. He thought you might be hungry. And we brought you a blanket because the nights are cold.”
    Annie hadn’t noticed the cold the night before because she’d been exhausted. How lovely to have a blanket. “Thank you.”
    Mr. Ortiz followed Elizabeth and placed a bundle on one of the narrow tables.
    “How old are you, Elizabeth?” Annie settled on a bench so she and Elizabeth would be face-to-face.
    “I’m almost eight, Miss Cunningham.”
    “What do you like most about school?”
    “Reading. I love to read. And to write.”
    Of course the daughter of the man who hired her would love to do the things Annie couldn’t. “Do you like to do sums?”
    Elizabeth grimaced. “No, ma’am, but I will try. My father says women should be able to add and subtract.”
    “Of course we should.” That was one thing she could do, thanks to keeping track of how much the men who frequented the brothel owed. That and her piano playing had made her popular with the other women there.
    The little girl marched into Annie’s bedroom to spread the blanket on her bed, tugging on it to make sure it hung squarely. She stopped to brush a little dust from the dresser and pushed the outside door more firmly shut. The child acted with such grace and helpfulness, as if she were an adult, that Annie smiled.
    “I asked Ramon to place the food in your cupboard.” Elizabeth frowned as she looked around the tiny bedroom. “I don’t know why you couldn’t have curtains or a pretty quilt.”
    “Thank you, but please don’t worry about it, Elizabeth. This is the nicest room I’ve ever had.”
    Elizabeth’s eyes grew round, but she was too polite to ask Annie how that could be. “My father and I hope you’ll enjoy Trail’s End. All the students are excited to meet you tomorrow. Most of us like school a great deal.”
    “Thank you, Elizabeth. I look forward to meeting them.” Annie walked into the classroom. “Would you tell me something about each student?” She congratulated herself on sounding so much like a teacher—or at least like her concept of a teacher.
    The child stopped to think a moment before she started counting off the students on her fingers. “There are the Sundholm twins, Bertha and Clara. They’re only six so just babies. This is their first year in school. Tommy Tripp and I are in the second grade. We can both read and are learning cursive. Do you have a nice hand, Miss Cunningham?”
    Annie looked down at her fingers. They were long and thin but covered with calluses from hard work and cuts from the accident. Her palms were red and rough. Why had the child asked if she had a nice hand? And what was cursive? What did it have to do with her hands?
    When Annie didn’t answer, Elizabeth continued, “Rose Tripp and Samuel Johnson and Frederick Meyer are in fourth grade. The Bryan brothers are all much older but still in the fifth reader because they miss a lot of school to help their father on the farm. There are three of them, but you won’t see much of Wilber because he’s almost sixteen and really strong. Martha Norton and Ida Johnson are in seventh grade. They know everything.” She stopped and thought, her head tilted. “I could make you a list if that would help.”
    “I can tell you’ll be a great help to me.”
    “Doña Elizabeth, I’ve finished putting the food away.” Mr. Ortiz came into the schoolroom, carrying the empty basket. His voice was soft and respectful with a lovely lilt to it.
    “Thank you, Mr. Ortiz,” Annie said.
    “I’m Ramon, Señorita Cunningham.” He bowed his head. “Mr. Sullivan said he told you in his letters that each family contributes a wagonload of wood once each term. They stack it in the shed behind the schoolhouse.” He nodded his head in that direction. “Mr. Sullivan sent me with a