by Kit Morgan
“That’ll give Effie and me lotsa time,” Alice said happily, taking Effie’s hand. “Maybe I can introduce you to folks while we’re here.”
“I’d like that,” Effie said. She liked meeting new people, and while Alice was a wonderful friend, she was used to having so many others. Where she lived now, trips to town were almost the only way to see anyone.
John parked the wagon in front of the general store, helped the women down, and with a wave clambered back up and was off. Alice grabbed Effie’s hand again, led her up the steps to the boardwalk and into the store.
Once inside Effie let her eyes wander over the displays of goods and sighed. She never thought a simple general store would look so good.
“I know,” Alice said. “Ain’t it wonderful? They even carry ready-made clothes.”
That got Effie’s attention. “Do tell?”
Alice nodded. “I hear they started carryin’ ‘em last year. ‘Course, I make my own – I can’t see buyin’ somethin’ ready-made.” She looked over Effie’s traveling dress, which she’d donned for the occasion. “Is that ready-made?”
“No, a dressmaker made this for me. I’m afraid I’ll have to get a couple of ready-made outfits – at least until my sewing improves.”
“Makes sense.” Alice smiled, gave Effie’s outfit one last one once over, then headed for a display of fabrics.
Effie watched her a moment before joining her. If they’d been the same size, she’d gladly have given Alice one of her dresses. But she was taller and a lot thinner than Alice – it would never work. Still, she wanted to do something for her friend; it was just a matter of what.
“Mrs. Capshaw!” a woman called from behind the store counter. She was middle-aged with dark hair streaked with gray and blue eyes, and wore a brown calico dress and white apron. “How nice to see you.” She looked at Effie, saw her outfit and smiled. “And who do we have here?”
“This is my neighbor, Effie Lang.”
“Forrest Lang’s new bride? Why, everyone’s been wondering when we’d get to meet you.” She stared at Effie as if about to salivate.
“How do you do?” Effie replied.
“Very well, thank you. I’m Mrs. Barnes. My, that’s a lovely outfit you have on. Did you make it yourself?”
“No, it was made for me.” She was beginning to feel a little embarrassed about it.
Mrs. Barnes looked her up and down again. “Well, how nice.” She turned back to Alice. “Have you brought a list, dear?”
Alice pulled a paper out of her reticule and set it on the counter. “Here’s what we need. While you’re fillin’ that, I’m gonna decide which of these fabrics I want.”
“Finishing up your dress for the picnic?” Mrs. Barnes asked.
“Yes. We’re so lookin’ forward to it.”
“Of course you are – it’s the only social function you attend,” Mrs. Barnes stated.
Effie didn’t like the sound of that. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say the woman just slighted her friend. “Seems to me like it’s the only social function to attend.”
Mrs. Barnes smiled at her. “On the contrary, we have several. Mrs. Hopkins, she’s the richest woman in town, puts on the most fabulous teas. I’m one of her dearest friends.” She studied Effie again – make that her outfit – and broadened her smile. “Maybe I can get you an invitation.”
From her experiences in New York, Effie knew what the woman was doing – and didn’t like it. “Why, thank you – Alice and I would love to attend.”
The woman’s eyes flicked to Alice and back. “I don’t recall extending one to Mrs. Capshaw.”
“Then I’m afraid I shall have to decline. Where I go, Mrs. Capshaw goes.”
Mrs. Barnes looked taken aback for a second or two, then snatched up Alice’s list. “You’ll excuse me while I fill this?”
Effie smiled. “By all means.” She knew a snob when she saw one. Having been one herself for most of her life, she ought to.
She was doing her best to not say something she shouldn’t when John came into the store. “What is it, dear?” Alice asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Nah, just got some mail here for Effie and figgered I’d better give it to her.” He turned to Effie and handed her a letter.
“Who would be writing me … oh my Lord!”
“What is it?” John asked.
Effie stared bug-eyed at the envelope. “It’s a letter from my father.”
Chapter 10
Effie tore open the letter and started to read as Alice, John and Mrs. Barnes looked on. “Oh my goodness!”
“What is it?” Alice asked, coming alongside her. “Is yer daddy sick?”
“On the contrary.” She looked at her, tears in her eyes. “My father’s been restored!”
“Restored?” said Mrs. Barnes. “What does that mean?”
Effie smiled proudly. “It means, Mrs. Barnes, that my father and uncle have at least … well, it’s a long story.”
Mrs. Barnes frowned, rolled her eyes and went back to filling Alice’s list.
“I’m so glad ya got good news,” Alice said. “I bet Forrest’ll be pleased to hear it?”
Effie’s face fell. Actually, she wasn’t sure how her husband would react. Her father had written that the man who’d swindled him and her uncle had been found out, arrested, and their names had been cleared. Their reputations in the business world were in the process of restoration, and they could get back to doing what they were both good at – making money.
But what did that mean for Effie, her sisters and cousins? All of them were probably scattered to the four winds and married by now. Effie herself had been married over a month, during which she’d learned there were more important things than a fine wardrobe and going to parties and balls, and found someone that loved her. Though Forrest hadn’t said the actual word yet, but after all they’d shared since their wedding, after everything he’d done for her … surely he did.
“I’m gonna finish my errands,” John said, interrupting her thoughts. “Get yer business done and we’ll head home as planned. Glad yer Pa’s doing all right, Effie.”
“Thank you,” she said with a tentative smile. She was happy for her father … but what would it mean for she and Forrest? What if her family could get back what they’d lost? Would they want her to come back to New York? Would Forrest want to go with her? That was the biggest question - would he be able to fit in? Would he even want to try? And after all the changes of the previous weeks, would she want to return to her old life?
“What about this blue lace, Effie?” Alice said, having gone back to her shopping. “Do ya like it?”
Effie glanced at the lace in her friend’s hand. “It’s lovely. But don’t ask me how I think it will look on the dress you’ve started. You know my sewing skills are sadly lacking.”
“I thought you said you used a dressmaker?” Mrs. Barnes put in.
Effie saw the woman’s glint of superiority, and winced. Back in New York she’d have put her in her place. But this wasn’t New York, and she held no position here. Still, the woman was looking to take a verbal jab at one of them. “When I lived in Manhattan, I had all my dresses made.”
Mrs. Barnes’ eyes widened. “New York?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
Now Mrs. Barnes was confused. “What are you doing here?!”
“She came to get married – ya know that,” Alice said in amusement.
Mrs. Barnes’ eyes narrowed. “You left New York to become a mail-order bride?” Her haughty look was back. “I see.”
Effie tried not to roll her eyes. This was becoming ridiculous. So what if she traveled across the country to become a mail-order bride? True, a woman from Manhattan heading west to marry a hog farmer was a little unusual. She could only imagine what was running through Mrs. Barnes’ narrow little mind. “I do like the blue lace, Alice,” she said, changing the subject.
“So do I. I’m gonna buy it,” Alice took the lace
to the counter. “I’ll need two yards, please.”
Mrs. Barnes unwound the lace to measure it out, all the while eyeing Effie. She could tell the woman’s mind was still at work, trying to figure things out. She decided to check out the ready-made dresses, then spied a silver belt buckle in a glass case along with other, more expensive items.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Mrs. Barnes commented from behind the counter.
“Yes, they are.”
“But costly,” the woman added with a smirk.
Effie would have none of it. “I would imagine,” she replied coolly. “How much for the belt buckle?”
Mrs. Barnes laughed. “Oh, sweet child, more than you can afford, I’m afraid.”
Effie pressed her lips together. Was the woman purposely goading her? But then, what could she do? She had money on her, but likely not enough extra for such things, especially if it was pure silver. Still, she was sure Forrest would like it and wanted to give him something to show her affection for him – affection that was near to exploding at times.
“Well?” Mrs. Barnes prompted. “Is there anything else you want?”
“You didn’t answer my question. How much is the buckle?”
Mrs. Barnes sighed in exasperation. “Twelve dollars.”
“Twelve,” Effie said, keeping the surprise out of her voice. Previously, she wouldn’t have batted an eye at the price. But her life had changed dramatically in the last month. “Hmmm,” she mused. “It would make a nice gift for my husband. I’ll have to think about it.”
Mrs. Barnes smiled. “Most likely it’ll be gone by the time you can afford it, but I’m sure you can find him something else he’d like by then.”
“We’ll see.” The nerve of the woman! And here she thought folks could be snobbish in New York! She glanced around the general store and wondered if this establishment was the more profitable of the two. Alice told her of another on the ride to town, but that she usually found what she needed here. Perhaps when she and Forrest came to town, she’d take her business elsewhere. She moved on to the rack of dresses, and finally picked out a blue denim one that was long enough – and nicely affordable.
Effie and Alice finished their business at the store, gathered their purchases (Alice had offered to teach Effie how to knit, so she bought some yarn and a pair of knitting needles, in addition to the denim dress and – long overdue – a spoon), and went off to find John. “There ya are!” Alice called as they spied him by the wagon. “We’re ready.”
“Good,” he said. “Let’s grab us some lunch then head home.”
“Lunch?” Alice said. “I thought ya wanted to go home right away.”
“Let’s live a little.” He took the wrapped bundles from her arms and put them in the wagon. “Otherwise we’ll all be hungry as a pack of coyotes by the time we drop off Effie and get ourselves home.”
Alice took on a worried look. “But John,” she said, then lowered her voice. “Can we afford it?”
“Sure. ‘Sides, my pretty wife deserves a hot meal cooked by someone else now and then.” He kissed her on the cheek.
Effie smiled. Lunch in the local café was considered a luxury? Well, from what she knew of the Capshaws, it might be. And she had a little money left in her reticule. “I’ll buy dessert.”
John smiled. “Why, that’s mighty white of ya, Effie – thanks. I wonder what kind of pie they got today.”
Alice wrapped an arm through her husband’s and beamed. “What a pleasant surprise!”
Effie swallowed hard at the pure joy in her friend’s eyes. Alice Capshaw took more pleasure in a simple lunch outing than her old friends had eating dinner at the finest French restaurants on the Upper East Side. The difference was that Alice appreciated what she had, no matter how little. She was content and happy. Effie was just beginning to learn what that was like.
What would her friends think of her now – slopping hogs, mending socks, doing laundry, cooking (well, burning, more often than not), and consorting with the likes of John and Alice Capshaw? Most likely, they’d laugh her right out of the room.
She squared her shoulders and followed her friends down the street to the café. She had something with Alice she’d never had with her friends in New York. She’d found more satisfaction learning how to mend Forrest’s socks than she’d ever gotten learning French from her governess. These people took pride in their work, loved each other to a fault and knew what was really important in life.
It all made Effie feel small and fickle … and poor. She hated the feeling and wanted to be rid of it. The way to do that, she decided, was to take a lesson from Alice, John and her husband and live life. That meant paying attention to what she had with her husband, not fret about what she’d left behind in New York.
But some things were easier said than done.
“Did you have a nice time in town?” Forrest asked as she dished him up some roasted vegetables. Alice had given her a simple recipe, and she was pretty sure she hadn’t fouled it up. For once.
“Yes, I met a few folks at the café that John and Alice knew, and a Mrs. Barnes at the general store.”
“Oh yeah, the owner. Did you meet Mr. Barnes?”
“No, only his wife.”
“Too bad. I like Fred Barnes, always have.”
Effie set a plate of (unburnt – huzzah!) fried chicken on the table. “What do you think of Mrs. Barnes?”
He grabbed a couple of pieces and put them on his plate. “She’s all right. Why?”
Effie took a piece for herself. “I was just wondering. You know the folks in town better than I do.”
“I don’t know all of them, Effie. Baker City is growing fast – new people settling there all the time.”
She nodded as she spooned some vegetables onto her plate. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
He watched her a moment, his hands resting on the table. “Is there something wrong? Did something happen in town today?”
She shook her head and placed one of Forrest’s two linen napkins on her lap. “No, just curious.” Indeed, she was more than that. She’d been shocked by the woman’s behavior because in it she’d recognized her own. Hadn’t she been just as haughty at times when out with her friends? Hadn’t she also looked down on people like Forrest, John and especially Alice in the past? Watching Mrs. Barnes in action earlier that day was like staring into a mirror - and she didn’t like what she saw.
“Effie?”
“What?” she said with a little jump.
“Anything else happen today?”
She shook her head, even as her eyes gravitated to her reticule resting on the sideboard, her father’s letter inside it. She found she didn’t want to tell him about it – it would complicate things. What if Father wrote again, and he and her uncle were back among the wealthy? Would she feel crushed? Regretful? Angry? To lose the life she’d had, get shipped off to the back of the beyond to be married off to a hog farmer, and for nothing? All because Fanny didn’t want to band together as a family and ride it out?
Effie seethed just thinking about it. No, it was better she didn’t tell Forrest. Otherwise, she might begin to dislike her new life as much as the cruelty of her old one.
Chapter 11
Time passed quickly – before Effie knew it, it was the third of July, with the picnic and dance the next day. Alice had sewn a beautiful dress for herself, and Effie, though her own frock was far superior, felt a little jealous – Alice had made hers with her own two hands.
If there was one thing Effie was beginning to like, it was the feeling of accomplishment from a job well done. She’d never felt that in her previous life in the big city, probably because, in reality, she hadn’t accomplished much. Yes, speaking French was something, but most of her friends did too. They were all schooled in drawing, embroidery, playing an instrument (usually the piano) and taught to sing, none of which would feed them should the need arise to earn a living. Well, maybe as a music-hall performer, but they’d all looked down o
n that. They’d have all been lost on a farm, just as she had been at first.
And how she loved their little farm! Forrest had made it clear early on that because it now belonged to both of them, she shared in the work. At first that made her angry, but over the next several weeks, she learned she liked having purpose, and working the farm and seeing to her husband’s needs gave her that. Furthermore, it made her realize how shallow her life had been before, how little she’d contributed to those around her, how much she’d taken for granted.
She hoped and prayed that her family had discovered the same through their tragedy. But who knew?
“You got everything, darling?” Forrest asked the next day as he finished loading the wagon.
“Yes, the pies should keep just fine. The day’s cool enough so far.”
Forrest looked at the rising sun. “It won’t be later. Best we get going.”
Effie let him help her onto the wagon seat, then settled herself. One of her favorite things was sitting next to him while driving to the Capshaws’ or taking the wagon out to haul back firewood from a tree he’d felled. They would talk and talk – a far cry from that first wagon ride after their wedding.
“What kind of pies is Alice bringing?” Forrest asked.
“She said she baked some cakes and cookies, no pies. They were my contribution.”
He looked at her with pride. “You don’t say? Well, well – you’ve turned out to be quite the baker, ain’t you? And to think a little while ago you couldn’t do more’n sink your teeth into a tater.”
She rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you teased me about that enough?”
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Never. I can’t wait to tell our younguns that story.”
Effie glanced at her belly, a smile on her face. The thought of having children sent a tingle of excitement up her spine and she was starting to look forward to when that might be.
“I think we’ll pay a visit to the Barnes’ store ‘fore we head over to the picnic.”
“We could use some coffee,” she agreed. “And the sugar is low.”
