“Come here, Cassie,” Mrs. Jackson beckoned, patting the chair beside her.
Cassandra sat, watching as Mrs. Jackson deftly switched Samuel to her other arm. There was an effortless grace to her nurturing.
“Remember when you used to help me with the little ones’ clothes? You’ve always had that special touch,” Mrs. Jackson reminisced, a twinkle in her eye.
“Helping you was different,” Cassandra admitted. “It was about creating, not corralling.”
“Yet, here you are, still part of this big, noisy family.” Mrs. Jackson’s smile was knowing.
“Because of you,” Cassandra confessed. “You gave me a place in this world.”
“And you’ve given so much back. Don’t forget that,” Mrs. Jackson said softly, reaching out to squeeze Cassandra’s hand.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson,” Cassandra murmured.
“Especially then,” Mrs. Jackson nodded. “Because I know, deep down, you will always carry a piece of this place with you, in the beauty you create and in the strength you show every single day.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson,” Cassandra said, her voice thick with emotion. “For believing in me, for everything.”
“Always, my dear,” the matron replied, her expression earnest. “Speaking of futures,” Mrs. Jackson said. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to mention to you, Cassandra. There’s a matchmaking dance next month. In Texas.”
“Texas?” Cassandra echoed, caught off guard.
“Yes,” Mrs. Jackson continued. “It’s a grand affair, designed to unite like-minded souls. I think you’ll be able to find a bachelor there who will feel the same as you do about child-rearing.”
“Really?” The idea sparked an unexpected flicker of interest in Cassandra.
“Truly.” Mrs. Jackson’s eyes twinkled behind her spectacles. “I’ve been talking with Mrs. Elizabeth Tandy, and she’s created this dance just for any of my girls who want to be married. It means a long train ride, and there’s no guarantee you’ll find someone, but I think it’s worth the risk.”
“Someone who understands...” Cassandra mulled over the words. The possibility of meeting a partner who shared her vision for life was an intriguing one. Perhaps this dance held more promise than just a night of frivolous entertainment.
“Think on it, dear,” Mrs. Jackson said softly, giving Cassandra a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she moved away to tend to her other duties.
Cassandra watched her go, the seed of possibility planted firmly in her mind. Could Texas hold the key to her future? A partner, a dressmaking shop, a life built on shared goals rather than shared offspring. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth considering.
CASSANDRA SAT AT HERmodest wooden desk as she wished she were home working on her beloved sewing machine. It had been her first purchase with her teaching money, and it was still her prized possession. The children’s voices had dwindled to a chorus of whispers and rustling papers as they focused on their arithmetic. Her gaze, however, lingered not on the sums and figures chalked onto the blackboard, but out the window.
“Miss Brown?” A small voice pulled her back to the present. “Is Texas far?”
“Quite a journey from here,” she replied, her eyes reflecting a daydreamer’s glint. “But sometimes the furthest paths lead to the finest destinations.”
“Like in your stories?” another piped up, eager for one of Miss Brown’s tales.
“Exactly like in my stories.” Cassandra allowed herself a small smile, then promptly directed the class back to their studies.
Later, as the children filed out with a jumble of farewells, Cassandra found herself alone with her thoughts once more. Mrs. Jackson’s mention of the dance had stirred a curiosity within her that refused to be quieted. A gathering where no one expected you to dote on children? Where men didn’t equate a wife’s worth with her willingness to mother?
“An interesting notion, isn’t it?” she mused aloud, tracing the delicate patterns of her lace collar. She pictured a man who wouldn’t mind her absence from the kitchen, so long as she could create the intricate gowns that danced in her imagination.
“Miss Brown?” A voice broke her reverie. It was Mrs. Jenkins, the mother of one of Cassandra’s star pupils.
“Mrs. Jenkins,” Cassandra greeted her. “I was just pondering my future.” She dropped her voice a bit, having long considered Mrs. Jenkins a good friend. “There will be a matchmaking dance in Texas, and I’m considering attending, and perhaps finding a man to marry.”
“Are you seriously considering it?” Mrs. Jenkins asked, eyebrows raised ever so slightly above her round spectacles.
“Considering? Perhaps.” Cassandra folded her hands atop her desk. “I might just find someone who shares my taste for life without the...added noise of children.”
Mrs. Jenkins chuckled. “Well, if anyone can find a needle in a haystack, it’s you, Cassandra.”
