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When Alice Kirkland had decided to travel west to teach the young school children of the prairie, it had been with the best intentions. Education, she knew, was a right every child deserved and knowledge was something that everyone should have access to, regardless of where they lived. Part of her was regretting that philosophy now. Not because the children were utter hooligans, which they certainly were at times, but because the parents and townsfolk of the small town she’d found herself in were far less than welcoming. At first, they’d stared at her everywhere she’d gone. From the moment she’d arrived at the train station, their eyes had practically been glued to her - following her down the isles of the general store, pinning her in the pews at Sunday service, judging her as she retired to her hotel room at night. Now though? Now they’d grown bold, and talked about her and, to a much lesser extent, her curriculum behind her back. Apparently they were afraid all of those ‘eastern ideals’ and ‘European thoughts’ were going to bleed into their child's math and geography lessons.
She supposed, in the end, that hoping it wouldn’t escalate any further had been a senseless wish, and she had to shove down the dread pooling in her stomach as she watched a group of middle aged, tittering homestead housewives file into the front of the small schoolhouse. Before she could get too much inside of her own head about it, she plastered on the friendliest smile she could muster and turned to meet the group. Despite the fact that she couldn’t care less of what they thought of her, Alice knew making them dislike her would only make the situation worse. This was about what was best for their children, not about her own pride.
“Hello, ladies,” she greeted politely, setting the book in her hands down on the desk and turning her full attention to the gaggle of ladies slowly making their way up to the front of the room.
“Miss Kirkland,” their leader - a Mrs. Vivian Davies - said back with a light smile of her own. It was only a formality, she knew, because the woman in front of her was the town theatric. A married housewife who had far too much time on her hands while her husband was hard at work and, instead of knitting or painting or doing anything productive, had made it her life’s mission to know everyone's drama. And if there wasn’t any drama, she would make it.
“How can I help you?” was her only response, cutting through the impending small talk in favor of getting to the point. As soon as she could get them out of her schoolhouse, the better.
“Oh, we were just out on a morning walk and decided to drop by,” Mrs. Davies answered, “Just to satisfy our curiosity.”
Alice raised a doubtful eyebrow, especially since she knew that the Davies homestead was a good ten miles away from the schoolhouse. Her son, Claude, might’ve made the walk everyday, but she couldn’t see his mother, who looked nearly pristine and neat standing in front of her, trudging around on a dirt road for ten miles.
“What subjects do you teach here, Miss Kirkland?” one of the other ladies asked, pulling Alice’s attention from Mrs. Davies to her.
“Maths, geography, reading, writing, and history.”
“No religious studies?”
“No,” Alice told her firmly, scowling at the thought of having to preach as well as teach. Like she didn’t have enough on her plate already. “I’d prefer to leave that for Sunday service, not the classroom.”
To her right, someone scoffed underneath their breath. Before she could comment on it though, Mrs. Davis cut in again. “And do you have a husband?”
Alice did her best not to openly laugh in the woman’s face. She’d learned a long time ago that her pursuits concerning marriage definitely did not lie in the same area as most other women’s did, but she’d be damned if the women standing in front of her discovered that.
“No,” Alice answered through clenched teeth. “Not yet.” Not ever .
“So you are an unmarried, ungodly woman,” Mrs. Davies concluded loudly, coming to stand directly in front of Alice with a raised eyebrow and false authority. Alice didn’t know where the ungodly part had come from, but she supposed that part was also true as well. “Who is poisoning our children with her hedonistic ways!”
“I don’t know where you drew that conclusion from, Mrs. Davies, but I assure you my intentions are simply to assure that your children are educated -”
“All our children need to know is what the Lord demands of them, Miss Kirkland,” she continued. Behind her, the gaggle of ladies accompanying her murmured in agreement, “and how to live a godly life filled with the light of -”
“Is there a problem in here?” a new voice interrupted, breaking through Mrs. Davies’ impromptu sermon. All of the attention in the room shifted towards the newcomer at the back of the room - a young woman dressed in dirtied work clothes with hair just above her shoulders and bright blue eyes that cut straight through the building tension in the room to land on Alice.
“This is none of your business, Miss Jones,” Mrs. Davies snapped furiously. “So move along.”
“Well, I could hear the yellin’ out in the road,” the stranger, Miss Jones, said, leaning up against the door frame and adjusting the hat on her head to reveal more of her face. Alice couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away from her face, despite the fact that it was covered in dirt and sweat and who-knows-what-else. “And considerin’ Miss Kirkland is the fourth teacher in five years you’ve tried to run outta town, it seems an awful lot ‘bout my business.”
Alice could practically see Mrs. Davies hackles raise at Miss Jones’ words and she sputtered over her own words. “Well, I never -”
“That’s right,” the woman cut off. “You ain’t ever done anything. Now run along before Mr. Davies begins to wonder what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”
“How dare you, you ungodly, dirty little heathen!”
“God hasn’t struck me down yet.”
“Mr. Gerome will hear about your insolence -”
“I’m sure he would love to hear all about it,” Miss Jones smiled, clearly unintimidated by the threat. “Now get out. I’m sure Miss Kirkland has better things to do than to listen to your preachin’.”
Flustered, all of the woman filed out of the schoolhouse behind Mrs. Davies, who was clearly angered by the intrusion on their conversation. Alice, though, fought hard to keep a smile off of her face, just relieved that it hadn’t been her to tell Mrs. Davies off. Finally, the door shut behind the women, and Alice was left alone with Miss Jones.
“Hope she didn’t dig into ya too much,” the other woman said, a hidden apology just underneath her words.
“I’ve heard much worse,” Alice reassured her, “but thank you for your help, Miss Jones.”
“Just Amelia is fine,” she insisted, reaching out a hand for her to shake.
Alice did, surprised by how firm the other woman’s grip was and wondering exactly what else the other woman was capable of. “Just Alice then.”
“Very well then, Alice,” Amelia agreed. “If you need anythin’ else, don’t be afraid to holler. Mr. Gerome’s ranch is just up the road, and I’m happy to help out with anythin’ you need.”
“I’ll make sure to do that.”
With one final smile, Amelia nodded to her and left the schoolhouse, leaving Alice to her own devices. As Alice watched the woman make her way back to Mr. Gerome’s ranch, a sight she very much enjoyed, she was certain of one thing - there was absolutely nothing Mrs. Davies could do to scare her away.