Free The Gunman's Bride by Catherine Palmer Page A

district school board in Springer, hours away by rail. One Friday, she used her free vacation train pass to travel south to Springer where she sat for examination.
    “You have passed with distinction, Miss Kingsley,” the commissioner announced as he handed her a crisp certificate that afternoon after she had sat through five hours of grueling questions. “Any school in the district would be proud to employ you.”
    All the way back to Raton on the train, those words curled through Rosie’s thoughts. As the engine struggled up the mountains, her determination grew. She would not think about Bart any longer—no matter that he was locked away in a Missouri jail. No, she would set her sights on that teaching job. Mr. Kilgore’s school had the finest reputation in the area, and with her exemplary performance on the exam, she would secure a position there.
    The moment the train whistled into town, Rosie smoothed and dusted her city skirts, descended onto the depot platform and marched straight to First Street. By the time she turned onto Second Street, her heart was pumping harder than it had the whole time she’d been facing the school board. She climbed the schoolhouse steps, tucked stray wisps of hair into her knot and knocked on the front door.
    “Ah, Miss Kingsley,” Mr. Kilgore said at the door. “Again.”
    “Yes, sir.” Rosie handed him the document. “I passed the examination.”
    “My goodness, these are high marks,” he commented as he studied the certificate. “Mathematics, Latin, history, geography, grammar. Even French. Well done.”
    “Mr. Kilgore, will you please reconsider my application for a teaching position?”
    He chuckled lightly. “Persistence is indeed a virtue. But, Miss Kingsley, I am assailed by doubts. I simply won’t hire another unmarried woman. Why don’t you take your certificate back to Kansas City and teach there?”
    “I’ve made my home here,” she protested. “I belong to a church, I have friends, I’m part of a community I love. I’ve put my savings in Raton’s bank and I’ve proven myself a reliable worker here. Why do you ask me to start all over when you need a teacher?”
    “I don’t know that the school election will pass, Miss Kingsley. I’m sorry, my dear. Truly, I am.”
    Once again, he shut the door on Rosie. She stood outside, fingers gripping her skirt and jaw clenched against threatening tears.
    “I will have that job, Mr. Kilgore,” she whispered over the lump in her throat. “I will have it.”
    Discouraged but undaunted, Rosie hurried back to the Harvey House and climbed the stairs to her room. Having taken the day off for her trip to Springer, she still had several hours to herself while the other girls waited on the dinner-train passengers. Even though she had thought the free time would be a blessing, she discovered that her mind insisted on traveling down a wayward track.
    As she sat on her chair by the window, Rosie couldn’t keep back the memories of those hours she had spent with Bart. How badly she had been fooled! He had told her he’d come to Raton to find her, that she had been the one bright spot in his life. And so she had doctored hiswound, fed him, boarded him and clothed him. Then he had taken his new haircut and his new shirt and gone away again.
    They had spent such a short time together, but Rosie knew she would never be the same. In those brief hours with Bart, she had fallen under his old spell. She had trusted every word from his lying lips. She had trembled at the sight of his now-so-masculine physique.
    Worst of all, she had allowed him to kiss her in a way no man ever had. Certainly Dr. Lowell had never kissed her in such a way. In fact, she could count only two times he had attempted such a liberty, and both had been utterly repulsive.
    Dabbing a silk handkerchief to the corner of her eye, Rosie stood from the window seat and went to her dressing table. She spread her rolled teaching certificate and slid it into the