After a lot of snipping, not only in the back but around Callie’s face, Hetty announced, “I’m done. Want to see?”
“I’m dying to see.”
Hetty handed her a small hand mirror. “You can’t see the back, I’m afraid, but you’ll see enough to give you an idea of what you look like.” She grinned. “You’re going to like it.”
Fearing the worst, Callie gazed in the mirror. She hardly recognized the face that looked back. “Is this me?”
“Of course it’s you.” Hetty stood back to admire her work. “I never guessed, but your hair has a natural curl. See the little ringlets around your forehead and down around your ears? I cut it short in the front so that the curls soften your face. No more of that skinned-back look.”
Florida pulled back the tent flap and stuck her head in. She took one look at Callie and whooped with delight. “Fantastic! Some women would die for that hair. I never realized. How lucky you are to have naturally curly hair, and such a rich auburn color. I swear, you must never pull it back tight again.”
“Never.” Hetty nodded emphatically. “I trimmed your hair in the back, too, so the ends look nice and smooth. Just one more thing…” She reached into a bag of clothes and pulled out a blue satin ribbon that she tied around Callie’s hair, forming a pretty bow on top. “The finishing touch.”
Callie stared into the mirror. “I don’t look so bad.”
Florida entered the tent. “Silly girl, you look beautiful. I just wish you had something decent to wear, like…” She turned to Hetty. “Do you remember those clothes we found by the side of the trail? Wasn’t there a dress—?”
“A dress that was too tight for me, as I recall. It’s in the wagon. Let’s see if Callie can wear it.”
While Hetty was gone to get the dress, Florida explained how they’d found the discarded clothing by the side of the trail, along with many household items. “Those poor people. I guess their animals got tired and they had to lighten the load, like so many others.” She gave a sad sigh. “I can only hope it doesn’t happen to us.”
Hetty soon returned with a full-skirted dress and held it up for Callie to see. Made of cotton calico, it was patterned with tiny, light-colored clover leaves against a dark purple background. It had a fitted bodice, tiny buttons down the front, and simple, long, slim sleeves. “Isn’t this adorable? You must try it on.”
Callie loved it on sight. “It’s beautiful. I couldn’t possibly wear such a dress.”
“Pray why not?” Florida inquired.
“Because…” She couldn’t think what to answer.
“Because you think you’re not good enough to wear it?”
“Not exactly.” How could she explain she’d never had anything but worn-out hand-me-downs all her life? She’d never expected she’d ever wear anything so beautiful. This was all too new, too overwhelming.
Hetty looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. Is it because you don’t want to wear some woman’s cast-off clothing?”
“Oh, no! That has nothing to do with it.”
“Maybe you’re feeling sorry for the poor woman who had to throw away her dress and you don’t think you should take it.”
“Yes, I do feel sorry for her, but it isn’t that.”
“Then what is it?”
After a long, thoughtful moment, Callie realized what her problem was. She’d been so deprived all her life she didn’t know how to handle someone’s generosity and kindness. That’s why I’m being so downright silly, and that’s got to stop this instant. She reached for the dress. “That poor woman is long gone, isn’t she? We couldn’t give it back even if we wanted to.” She pulled her old dress over her head and slipped on the new one. Would it fit when she buttoned it? She’d die if it didn’t. She fastened the row of tiny buttons that ran down the bodice. Perfect. Not too loose, not too tight.
“It was made for you,” Hetty exclaimed.
Callie spread her arms and twirled around. “It does seem to fit. How do I look?”
Florida beamed her approval. “It’s a marvelous fit and shows off that nice figure of yours. Land’s sake! I didn’t even know you had a figure in those two baggy old dresses you wear. I’m so glad we thought of it. I’d like to believe the woman who owned it wouldn’t mind a bit.”
“So do I.”
“You must take it off now. Take it home. Do your chores. Then when you’re done, you’ll have the fun of getting all fixed up for the campfire tonight. I guarantee the boys will be after you, and you’ll dance every dance.”
Callie couldn’t imagine such a thing, but she did as she was told and soon was back in her ragged gown, the new dress and ribbon securely bundled under her arm.
* * * *
When Luke returned, he found his sister alone by the cook fire. As he got off his horse, Florida remarked, “That was quite a speech you made to Callie, talking about how people change. I’ve never heard you put that many words together at one time.”
“Just telling her the truth. She needed to hear it.”
“That’s true. I hate the way the Whitakers treat her. When she stood up for herself about learning to read, I thought that would be the end of them ordering her around, but now I don’t know. That nasty stepmother of hers still heaps the work on her, and she allows it. All the while, those two lazy stepsisters act like they’re Queen of the May.”
“The Whitakers are the only family she’s ever known. She doesn’t see them as we do.”
“She should.” Florida gave a firm nod of her ample chin. “Speaking of the stepsisters, I’ve seen that Lydia Whitaker batting her big blue eyes at you.”
“So?” Luke remained blank-faced.
“She’s sweet on you, always trying to get your attention.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Oh, you are so exasperating. The girls fall all over themselves trying to get your attention. Why? I don’t know. Is it because you never pay them any mind? You must have noticed. It’s just so annoying you never tell me what you really feel.”
“About what?”
“Damnation! About if you’ve ever been in love. Have you, Luke?”
“Come on, Sis, I haven’t had the time.”
“Bosh! You’re thirty. You should be married with a dozen kids by now. Of course…” Her brow furrowed. “It all goes back to that horrible day, doesn’t it? I so wish—”
“Don’t.”
She sighed. “Sorry. All the same, I hate to see you spend the rest of your life alone.”
Luke shrugged. “I’m not a marrying man.”
“That’s what they all say. Out of all the women who’ve thrown themselves at your feet, there’s not one you find attractive?”
“I didn’t say that, did I?”
“Aha!” Florida’s face took on a gleam of triumph. “Who is it? Someone here in the wagon train? Is it Lydia? If it is, I swear I’ll try to like the little scatterbrain.”
“My God, Florida, you’re such a snoop.” Luke gave his sister an affectionate pat on the arm and walked away.
* * * *
Callie had nearly reached her wagon when Coy Barnett fell in step beside her. She had never spoken with the young gold seeker, although sometimes when he passed by her campfire, she became aware of his probing gaze. She didn’t know why he stared the way he did. With her ragged, poorly fitting dress and hastily combed hair, she wasn’t anything a man would look at twice. Yet something about Coy’s bold gaze signaled he liked what he saw. Not in a polite way, though. It was more in a slimy sort of way, like he’d do the same with anyone under the age of fifty and female. She always turned her head away when she saw him.
Coy walked along beside her, a cocky smile on his face. “You look nice today. Did you do something with your hair?”
Even his simple question made her mad. “Nothing much.”
“Yeah? Well, it looks different. How come I don’t see you at the campfires? Don’t you like to dance?”
>
Funny how she resented Coy’s asking. When talking about it to Luke, she hadn’t minded. “I might be there tonight.” She made her answer as curt as she could.
“Good.” He raised a suggestive eyebrow. “You and me should get better acquainted.”
Mercifully, they arrived at her wagon. “Got to go,” she called over her shoulder as she darted away, grateful to escape the disgusting man. What did Nellie see in him? She could not imagine. She had to admit he was handsome with his dark good looks, but that bold, lustful look in his eyes annoyed her. Nellie could have him.
She plunged into preparations for supper, only half aware of what she was doing. Her head spun with all the things she had to think about. Should she or should she not insist on going to the campfire tonight? Luke had said they liked her. He was talking about him and his sister, but could he have meant he liked her in a special way? No, that wasn’t possible and she’d be crazy to think he did. But still…
What would the family say about her hair? Would they make fun of her? She needn’t have worried. No one noticed, or at least no one said anything. As she served supper and cleaned up afterward, more of Luke’s words kept echoing in her head. I want you to come to the campfire tonight. His remark meant nothing, other than he was being polite. Even so, was it possible he might ask her to dance? The very thought caused a tug of excitement in the pit of her stomach. It also caused her to gather her courage. She stood up to Ma once. She would do it again.
When the last of the pots and pans were washed and stored away, Callie took a deep breath. “Ma, my work’s done, so I’ll be going to the campfire tonight.”
“No you’re not. You’ve got to stay here with Tommy.”
It was the answer she had expected. “I’m taking Tommy with me. I’m sure he’d enjoy watching the fun and dancing.”
Ma’s eye widened with surprise. “You plan to keep the child up beyond his bedtime?”
She suppressed a smile. Ordinary routines fell apart on a wagon train. Parents had so much to cope with, they didn’t have time for their children. Many were left to run wild. If not for Callie’s efforts, so would Tommy. “It won’t hurt him a bit. Lots of children attend the campfire and are none the worse for it.”
Ma squinted in surprise. “Your hair! What have you done?”
“I had it cut a little. About the campfire, I’d like to go.”
Ma shrugged with indifference. “I suppose just this once won’t hurt. Mind you, keep an eye on Tommy.”
“I won’t stay real late.” In her small triumph, Callie wished she’d said that “just this once” wasn’t enough. Well, she’d fix that later. Her spirits soared. She was going to wear her new dress tonight. Wear that blue ribbon in her hair. She’d see Luke and, maybe, just maybe, he’d ask her to dance.
* * * *
A festive mood reigned that evening among the members of the Ferguson wagon train. As the moon rose over the pine trees, nearly everyone gathered around the big campfire in the middle of the clearing. By the time Callie and Tommy arrived, Jake, the fiddler, was playing, accompanied by Reverend Wilkins’s son, Colton, on his banjo.
“Glad you could make it,” Florida called with a friendly wave. “Come set yourselves over here.” When Callie drew closer, she saw Florida’s eyes light with approval. “You look as pretty as a picture in that dress.”
Soon Callie had Tommy comfortably seated with a good view of the dancers. Wide-eyed, he watched the couples twirl and prance to a waltz, then a polka. He was fascinated, not the least bit frightened, as Ma predicted. Callie watched, too. Not far away, Ma and Pa sat observing the dancers. Nellie was dancing with Coy. Lydia was dancing with Magnus, looking mighty pleased with herself.
Florida patted her arm. “You should be dancing, too.”
Callie made a rueful grimace. “Remember? I don’t know how to dance.”
“We’ll soon fix that. Hetty, come here,” Florida called to her daughter who was dancing with one of the hired hands. Hetty broke away from her partner and joined them. “Do you think we could teach Callie to dance?”
“Sure, Ma.” Her young face flushed from dancing, Hetty clasped Callie’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “There isn’t much to it. In the cotillions, you just watch close and do what the other girls are doing. If you’re dancing with a partner, you follow his lead.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Where’s the fun if it isn’t easy?” Florida said. “You worry too much. You should relax and enjoy yourself.”
Florida’s words worked their magic. With Hetty’s help, Callie put aside her doubts and soon caught the rhythm of the music. Before she knew it, her feet were doing the steps without her having to think about it. “I’m dancing.” Her heart lifted to the rousing version of “Goodnight, Irene” Jake was playing on his fiddle.
Just then Magnus walked up. He stood watching her with admiring eyes. “See, it’s not so hard.”
She felt so good, so pleased with herself, she laughed aloud. “I guess it’s not.”
He stepped forward and tapped Hetty’s shoulder. “I’m cutting in.” After Hetty backed away, he gave her a slight bow. “Would you care to dance, Miss Callie?”
Magnus Ferguson, the esteemed leader of the wagon train, was asking her to dance! How flattering. From what she’d heard, several of the single women in the company had, as Florida put it, “set their caps” for the handsome bachelor. Even so, sudden doubts assailed her. “I’m not sure—”
“Of course you can.” Magnus gestured toward the uneven, rock-strewn ground. “If you trip, you can blame it on a rock or a weed. Besides, who cares?” He took her hand, circled his arm around her waist, and off they went to the lively tune of “My Home’s in Montana,” which Jake had just started on his fiddle. After a few faltering moments, Callie got the hang of the dance. Before long, she felt like she’d been dancing all her life. What fun this was. While she danced, she felt many eyes upon her. Ma and Pa, sitting on the sidelines, stared like they’d never seen such an astounding spectacle as Little Mouse dancing. Lydia watched, too, her expression changing from astonishment to disdain, to disapproval, to… Was that anger? Never mind. Nothing was going to spoil her good time.
When the fiddler took a break, Magnus walked her back to where her little brother was sitting. Tommy clapped his hands. “Callie…dance!” His eyes sparkled with interest.
“He’s smiling.” Callie looked toward Ma and Pa in hopes they’d be as delighted as she was to see their son looking happy and showing an interest in his surroundings.
They weren’t. Their expressions hadn’t changed except Ma now glared in her direction. “He should be in bed,” Ma called, her lips set in a grim line.
“He’s fine, Ma.”
Lydia approached, batting her eyes and flashing a dazzling smile at Magnus. “You must dance this with me. You know how I love the waltz.”
Magnus smiled pleasantly, excused himself to Callie and danced away. To Callie’s surprise, she wasn’t left alone for long. Soon one of the Gowdys’ hired hands asked her to dance. After him, a steady stream of partners prevented her from sitting down for even a moment. The single young men of the train wondered where she’d been and why they’d never noticed her before.
Where was Luke? Florida must have been right. Luke never attended these gatherings.
She couldn’t stop dancing. The older people began to leave, including Ma and Pa, who retired for the night, taking Tommy with them. Callie hardly noticed. She had so many partners, she never sat down. Late in the evening, Magnus Ferguson returned. While they stepped to a lively waltz, he peered at her intently. “You look very pretty tonight, Miss Whitaker.”
His praise was the crowning touch to a wonderful evening. They danced every dance until Jake stopped playing and lowered his fiddle. “That’s it, folks! Time to git to bed.”
Magnus took her hand, his eyes warm and friendly. “Good night, Miss Whitaker. I trust I’ll see you
here more often.”
Someone doused the campfire. As the last of the crowd drifted away, Callie started back to her wagon. Luke appeared out of the darkness and fell in step beside her.
“Luke, I’m surprised. I didn’t see you at the bonfire.”
He returned a cynical chuckle. “They don’t pay me to dance with the ladies.”
“Even so, you can’t be working all the time. Isn’t that what you accuse me of doing?”
He let a long moment pass. “So you danced with Magnus.”
“You think he’s a fool, but I don’t. I’m honored he asked me.” She waited for his reply, but other than a muttered oath under his breath, he remained silent. “You told me to put a little fun in my life, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Having fun with Magnus Ferguson?” He moved his shoulders in a shrug of disgust. “Are you planning to join all the single girls in his train who are after him?”
She stiffened at his words. “That’s none of your business.”
They had almost reached her wagon. He stopped. She turned to face him. In the light of a half-moon, she could hardly see his face, yet she knew he was peering at her with an intensity that surprised her.
“You’re right. It’s not my business.” His hands slid up her arms, bringing her closer. With a swift motion she didn’t expect, he gave her a swift kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Callie.” Abruptly he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Why had he sought her out? Why had he kissed her? It was only on the forehead, yet it wasn’t the way he’d kiss his sister. Hard to know what Luke was thinking. Could it be he liked her and was jealous because she danced with Magnus? There was something awfully strange about Luke, Florida, too. They didn’t like to talk about themselves. It was like they had a secret, something terrible from their past. What was wrong? Maybe someday he’d tell her. She hoped so. Lately, she was finding it hard to keep Luke off her mind. And now, that kiss. It was only on the forehead, but she wasn’t going to forget it.
Chapter 7
Wagon Train Cinderella Page 7
