A Windswept Promise

by Brandi Boddie

  “How pretty. Did he leave a note?”

  Sophie withdrew the card stock stationery that had been tucked under the flower. She read the three lines written beneath her name. “I regret that my time at the bank has kept me away from you once again. Please accept these gifts as small tokens of my affection. Also, I would be pleased if you and your family would join me for supper tomorrow evening at six o’clock.”

  “A chance to wear your dinner dress.” Her mother smiled approvingly. “Is it going to be held at a restaurant or his residence?”

  Sophie read further down, but the note ended with Chad’s large signature. “No address is given, so I assume it will be at the mayor’s house.”

  “Chad invited all of us. That means that his parents will be present as well. Now we really do have to finish the ironing today. Go upstairs and bring me the dress and your Sunday petticoats. They must be taken out and starched.”

  Sophie laid the box and notecard on the table and set out on her new task. Chad offered a second apology for being occupied at the bank. On Saturday he told her that he didn’t appreciate her surprise visit. Perhaps that was the real reason for the gift, to smooth things over. Or he had taken to heart her accusation that he wasn’t courting her as a man should.

  Whatever the cause, her family and Chad’s parents were going to be present at their next meeting. They must never find out how she set him straight about his insecurity and jealousy of Dusty. If her mother and father had any more indications that she was on such familiar terms to the hired worker, defending Dusty to the man courting her, even, they would terminate his employment immediately. Sophie didn’t know what to do if she cost Dusty his livelihood.

  In her bedroom, she gathered the petticoats and her burgundy and navy plaid dinner dress with draped sleeves. A breeze from the open window made the curtains flutter their embroidered roses at her. She answered their beckoning to look down at the land below where Dusty worked tirelessly in the field, unaware that she continued to watch and yearn to speak to him as before.

  CHAPTER 19

  T WENTY-FIVE GOING ON sixty. That’s how Dusty felt on Thursday after all the hay was planted and the hogs grunted at his feet while he scraped mud and filth from their trough. He thought about picking up some of that pain tonic being sold at the general store the next time he visited town. It started to look like a worthy investment.

  The pain wasn’t merely in his back, legs, and arms. Each time he caught a glimpse of Sophie from afar, knowing that he better not say anything to her when her father was around, was enough to make him feel like he had been thrown off a horse. Presenting her with Chad’s gift after the bank teller left it with him was akin to being kicked by one.

  Dusty finished scraping the dried mud off his boots when Mr. Charlton came from putting tools in the barn. “You can have the rest of the afternoon to yourself, after you harness the wagon. The family and I were invited to share supper with the mayor.”

  So that’s what was in that gift box that reminded Dusty of a miniature pine coffin. “Have a good evening, sir.”

  “You as well.” His boss cut a path to the house. Minutes later, the Charlton boys David and Bernard followed suit, exiting the chicken coop after emptying the nesting box.

  Dusty raised his head to view the position of the sun. A little past three in the afternoon. If he hitched the wagon and got himself a quick scrub, he’d be able to make it to the Zephyr Ranch and back before dark.

  Pushing aside the knowledge that his aching back would hurt more if he were asked to demonstrate his prowess as a cowhand, he put one tired foot in front of the other to reach the barn.

  A half hour later he was on his way. The dry heat of afternoon had let off by early evening, but sweat still ran down the back of his neck. The nerves he was experiencing had more to do with his reaction to the weather than he cared to admit. Everything counted on his making a good impression at the ranch. If Mr. Mabrey didn’t think he had what it took to keep the place running, he was going to have to settle on another job outside his training or keep ducking his head at the farm.

  The sign above the ranch gate swung on its hinges as he approached. He prayed he was still making the right decision.

  Sophie held still for her mother to finish arranging the folds of her dress over the bustle. Her appearance must be more than presentable. She stood in front of the floor-length dressing mirror in her parents’ bedroom and admired how the lace collar of the gown drew attention to her face. The necklace Chad gave her glowed softly in the light.

  “Sophie, I’m concerned about the fit of this dress. Turn around.”

  She faced her mother’s critical stare. Her mother stood back and appraised her from head to toe, eyes resting longer on the middle. “You’ve put on weight.”

  Sophie shuddered with humiliation. Her pleasure at being able to finally have an occasion to wear the dinner dress deflated. “I don’t think I have.”

  “I can see it. Look at yourself in the mirror from the side. Do you see how the fabric puckers just beneath the bodice?” Her mother ran her hand along the seams. “I would say your measurements have increased by at least an inch.”

  Sophie noticed the expanse upon giving intense focus to that area of her body. It confounded her as to how the bit of excess crept up on her unawares. She wore corsets every time she went into town and was not idle when she was at home.

  “That isn’t the only place where you’ve gained. With that high collar you’re wearing, I can see your cheeks have filled too.”

  Sophie touched her face. Her fingers made indents into her flesh as if it were a pillow. “Oh, no.”

  “It isn’t terrible. Wear some of your hair loose in tendrils about your face, and don’t pinch your cheeks to make them blush. But this weight about the waist, I don’t think it can be hidden.”

  Her mother’s tone gave her a sense of defeat. After being caught talking freely to Dusty last week, here she was letting her mother down again by failing to keep a dainty figure. “The dark colors of the dress disguise it.”

  “Perhaps, but you can’t wear dark colors every day. Eventually someone will notice your peculiar dressing habits.”

  Outside the bedroom walls, Sophie heard her brothers tear down the stairs. It was almost time to leave for the dinner party. Knowing that her girth had increased took the pleasure out of anticipating the menu.

  “You need to practice self-control in more areas than one.” Her mother gave the final verdict.

  Sophie faced the mirror again so her mother could finish arranging the dress. This time, she looked at the gilt frame of the mirror instead of her reflection.

  Within the hour, Sophie and her family arrived at the Hooper residence. No other wagon or horse was stationed outside the fence. They would be dining alone with the Hoopers after all.

  Chad was at the door to greet them. “I’m glad you could make it. My mother’s prepared a five-course meal. Come in.” He reserved a lingering look for Sophie. A measure of approval shone on his face when he saw that she was wearing the necklace.

  “Thank you for the invitation,” she responded.

  “My pleasure. This way.”

  Following behin
d Chad and her parents, she stepped into the affluent interior of the house. Lights from the kerosene lanterns cast a warm glow upon the walls and the plush upholstery as they passed by the sitting room. In the dining room, the long table was set formally with a lace tablecloth and an assortment of fine-bone china. Linen napkins with an embroidered letter H rested near silverware that cast bright spots of light upon the fleur-de-lis wallpaper.

  Chad pulled out a chair for Sophie before taking his seat across from her. She paid attention to the height of the table and how it covered almost half of her torso. No one would take notice of her waistline tonight.

  Her mother and father sat on her left, Rosemarie to her right. Mayor Hooper sat at the head of the table, while his wife’s seat was adjacent to his. Sophie’s brothers sat beside Chad.

  “I’ve prepared glazed vegetables with honey, one of my specialties when we lived in Philadelphia.” Mrs. Hooper lifted the covers of the serving platters as she described each course. “Oyster stuffing, with the oysters brought in from St. Louis on the train today. Potato soup, stuffed peppers, braised venison, and breaded ham. The rolls are a secret family recipe. Dessert will be a surprise.”

  “It looks like you’ve outdone yourself,” Lucretia complimented.

  “Shall we say grace?” Mayor Hooper led them in prayer before the food was passed around the table, platter by heavy platter.

  Sophie put a roll on her plate and helped herself to a good portion of the glazed vegetables that smelled at once both sweet and savory. The oyster stuffing had a golden crust that called her name. She speared a chunk of the braised venison. Rosemarie passed the tray of breaded ham her way. Sophie went to take a slice of the meat when a subtle but unmistakable glance of caution from her mother made her refrain. Mouth dry, she took a sip from her glass of lemonade.

  “How is your crop doing this year, David?” Mayor Hooper spoke to her father.

  “We finished planting the wheat and hay. The carrots and other root vegetables have sprouted. I expect a good yield this year if we have more rainfall.”

  Mayor Hooper drank water. “It’s looking like another hot summer’s upon us.”

  Sophie took a bite of the oyster stuffing. The buttery crust melted in her mouth and gave way to flavors of garlic, bacon, and shallots permeating the oysters and cornbread. “This is very good, Mrs. Hooper.”

  The mayor’s wife beamed brighter than the mounted lamp on the wall behind her. “Thank you, Sophie. It’s my first time making that recipe.”

  Sophie could feel her mother’s watchful gaze on what went into her mouth. She planned to eat the rest of the stuffing and nibble a few bites of the other items on her plate. Surely that would suffice.

  “How is your petition coming along?” Mayor Hooper addressed her after she finished chewing. “I hear you’ve collected an interesting assortment of names.” He glanced sideways at Chad, whose countenance took a dour turn.

  Sophie twisted the edges of the napkin resting on her lap. “I plan to have the petition completed within a week. There are several areas in town where I haven’t yet spoken with the ladies.” She withheld mentioning her intent to go to the rail station and ask for signatures. Her mother didn’t need to choke on a pepper.

  “I admire your diligence, Sophie. No doubt that is one of the many reasons why my son has chosen to court you.”

  She watched Chad cut into the tender venison as though it were tough buffalo hide. He commented to his father while resting his eyes on her. “I find Sophie’s other qualities as engaging, if not more so, than her liberal notions.” He kept his tone light, but Sophie heard the disapproval beneath his words. No one else appeared to notice.

  “But you were kind nonetheless to humor me in my whims.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “When other gentlemen see your name signed to the petition, I just know they’ll follow in your example.”

  The mayor set his fork down. “You didn’t tell us you also signed the petition, Chad.” Unlike his son, he was more practiced in concealing his astonishment.

  Chad stabbed the venison with his fork. “A gentleman should always do his best to honor a lady’s wishes.”

  “How noble,” Sophie’s mother declared. “I thought the age of chivalry had long since passed, but you’ve proven me wrong.”

  Sophie thought the remark was a bit too flattering, but her mother had gotten away with worse. She took satisfaction in having stood up to Chad’s disparaging comment. He may be her beau, but that didn’t entitle him to show her up in front of her family.

  “I intend to prove the same to your daughter, Mrs. Charlton, if she will allow me to.”

  Was this his typical demeanor, to sulk when people didn’t respond to him in the way he thought they should? Sophie washed down the oyster stuffing with more lemonade. Perhaps it was her teasing that made him so glum. Not every man could handle a woman’s backtalk, good-natured or no. Not every man was Dusty.

  She wondered what he was doing that evening. The night’s warm weather was perfect for a stroll in town, where McIntyre’s stayed open late for the rail passengers. While preparing for the Hoopers’ dinner party, from her window she saw Dusty leave the farm. He may have gone to Claywalk instead. There were twice as many shops and restaurants in that town to occupy his time. Claywalk also had three saloons and a dancehall.

  Her mother’s notion of sweet-talking cowboys took up residence in her thoughts. Sophie pictured Dusty twirling some shapely little miss across a hardwood floor, hurdygurdy piano tinkling in the background. The image didn’t sit well at all. Her stomach grumbled in protest.

  “Who’s ready for dessert?” Mrs. Hooper came into the dining room with a deep dish pie. Sophie didn’t realize she had gotten up from the table. “I made it with elderberries.”

  “Sophie and I will have to decline,” her mother declared. “The dinner was very satisfying.”

  The pie was sliced and served to all but the two of them. Chad declined a piece. “I thought Sophie and I would take a moment to sit outside and watch the sunset.”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea. You would like some fresh air, wouldn’t you, daughter?”

  Sophie knew better than to say anything but yes. She excused herself and went to where Chad stood in the doorway. She walked with him through the hallway toward the front door.

  “I see you’re wearing the necklace I bought you. Do you like it?”

  “Yes, it’s lovely.”

  He held open the door for her. Crickets chirped and serenaded in the grass below the porch steps. Sophie seated herself on the red cedar swing in the corner. Feeling too full, she didn’t care for the bench as it rocked. Her beau sat close to her, his trouser legs almost brushing her dress.

  “Did you read the note I sent along with the necklace?”

  “Of course I did. I know you’re a busy man at the bank. You didn’t have to tell me twice.”

  He looked down. “I guess it was my way of telling you that I was sorry for how I acted when you came by the bank. You may have gotten the impression that I didn’t like you asking Sterling to sign your petition.”

  “I know you didn’t.”

  “He’s a hired hand. I still don’t see how
much clout his name carries, especially when the outcome of your cause won’t directly affect anything he does.”

  “Your name is on the petition as well. Exactly how will women’s votes affect you?”

  “Sophie, don’t be difficult when I’m trying to make sense of his participation in this.”

  “It’s about more than clout. I needed many signatures.” Sophie wrinkled her forehead. She had been granted a boon that her mother wasn’t outside with them to hear Chad’s speech. He concealed none of his jealousy. “But it wasn’t just the petition that made me upset. You wanted me to kiss you while you sat in that chair and did nothing. You made me feel like I was obligated. Forced to, even.”

  Chad leaned forward to see into the house. “Don’t say that. You know I would never force you to do anything,” he retorted, sharp and curt.

  Sophie moved away from him on the swing. An unpleasant sensation arose in her stomach again. She took in gulps of air, hoping to suppress the building queasiness.

  He moved down with her. “We should let this matter go.” Face softening, he regained his temper. “Put it in the past along with the other mistakes.”

  The mistakes she made. Sophie didn’t think he’d ever forget about the Claywalk festival blunder.

  “It is a pleasant evening, isn’t it?”

  She looked toward the setting sun and saw the moon beginning to make its ascent. Nausea rolled over her as her stomach growled despite having just eaten. She clenched her teeth, mortified. “It really is.” Sophie talked over the noise, praying that Chad couldn’t hear it.

  He put his arm over the back of the swing behind her. “It’s not often that you get to see the sun and the moon at the same time. An instructor told me a story once about how the sun and moon were once man and woman, ill-fated lovers who died in each other’s embrace. Out of mercy, they were placed in the sky so that they could be together forever, if only to meet during the short interlude transitioning from day to night.”