Bride in Blue

by Christine Sterling

  When they were done, Cassie offered to take the plates into the kitchen. “No need, child,” Mrs. Brown said. “I’ll put them in the bucket and wash them when we get back from church.”

  “Church?” Hal asked.

  “Of course. It is Sunday. The best day of the week,” she replied. “You are coming to church, aren’t you Hal?”

  Cassie’s gaze shot to her father who was pulling on his collar. “Not today. Maybe next week,” he replied, looking directly at Max.

  “Well, we will miss you.” Mrs. Brown stood and started collecting the dishes.

  “I can take those,” Hal offered. “Just put them in the bucket, you say?”

  Cassie tried not to let her mouth fall open. She couldn’t recall one time in her entire life where she saw her father offer to do any type of housework.

  Maybe miracles do happen, she thought.

  Max couldn’t help but notice the stares of the parishioners as he escorted Cassie and Mrs. Brown into the Reverend Bing’s church.

  Mrs. Brown waved to a woman who was standing by the pulpit, as she proceeded up the aisle to the front of the church. Cassie scooted into the last pew and moved over so Max could sit next to her.

  “That is Mrs. Maybelle. I don’t know her last name. She’s the baker,” Max explained. He had leaned over to whisper the words in Cassie’s ear, and he was assaulted by the scent of roses.

  He took another deep breath, allowing the floral fragrance to fill up every pore of his being. He couldn’t recall anything so exciting as the scent of flowers.

  Excitement.

  He recalled the words Mrs. Pennyworth said to him right after he had met Cassie. She was definitely exciting him.

  The service started, and they stood to sing. Cassie’s voice rang out. “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty.” Max opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He preferred not to sing. He held the corner of the hymnal, sharing the book with Cassie.

  Her fingers bumped his several times as she turned the page. As she turned the page to the last few lines of the hymn, he caught her fingers in his and held them for a moment.

  Her eyes flew up and met his. She closed her eyes for a minute, and then reopened them. Her eyes were like liquid honey surrounded by long black lashes.

  Max gave her fingers a quick squeeze before releasing them. “Amen,” the congregation sang before sitting down. Max glanced around the room. There were several people looking at them with open curiosity.

  Reverend Bing cleared his throat and they turned around, providing Max with a sense of relief.

  “Reverend Bing is not what you would call your typical clergyman,” he whispered to Cassie.

  “How so?”

  “He was a pugilist in New York before he came out west.”

  “A pugilist?”

  “A bare-knuckle fighter. It is how he earned money to bring his mother and sister over from Scotland.”

  “How fascinating,” Cassie said. “That he could do that and become the reverend here in Creede. My father would probably like him immensely.”

  Max heard Reverend Bing’s brogue carry over the conversation.

  "Good morning," he began. "I'm going to do something a little different this morning. I'm going to teach on a book that not many preachers speak about. In fact, many preachers skip over this book entirely. I think it is because not many folks fully understand what the book is about.

  "The book is the Song of Solomon." He paused and murmurs were heard from the pews. "This book of course, is a collection of love poems, and it is timely, given the growth of Creede over the past year. How do you prepare yourself for marriage?"

  "Isn't that rather scandalous?" Cassie leaned over and whispered to him.

  Max wasn't sure. He had to admit that this wasn't one of the books he read.

  "Solomon wrote these verses to reflect the love between a young man and a young woman," Reverend Bing continued. "The young man and woman seemed to have lived somewhere in the country, maybe apart, but they are eventually together. So, let's begin.

  "As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love."

  Reverend Bing looked out among the congregation. "This young woman is obviously overwhelmed with thoughts of this young man. She appeals to her friends to stay with her and feed her. Stay me with flagons, which are small cakes, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love. Or in the instance, lovesick." The congregation laughed.

  "I guess when you are love sick the best thing to do is eat something?" Cassie asked.

  "I suppose so. I guess pastries are right for any occasion," Max concurred. Cassie gave a light laugh and turned her attention back to the Reverend. She would glance over at him occasionally, but then her gaze would shift back to the front immediately.

  "My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice,” the reverend read from the bible in his hands. “I'd be surprised if there wasn't at least one young man in here trying to hide himself from the one that he secretly loves."

  As Max heard the words Reverend Bing spoke, he felt stirrings like he had never felt before. Feelings of being in love and hiding it from someone. Thoughts of how he couldn’t see himself married, yet it was expected from God. But he could see himself with someone like Cassie. Those thoughts turned into feelings of shame, that he would think of something so wicked in a church of all places.

  He opened and closed the hymnal repeatedly. The sound of the pages clacking together allowed him to focus on something other than his thoughts of the woman sitting next to him. Cassie must have realized that he was bothered, as she simply placed her hand over his, and he felt the tension dissipate immediately.

  Reverend Bing quickly recited the rest of the verses, before concluding. "In Scotland, we have a sayin'. In spring, a young man's fancy turns to love. And so, it appears the same is happening here. I want to turn this to thoughts of matrimony. How do you go about preparing yourself for the possibility of giving yourselves to one person for the rest of your lives?” Max felt as though the Reverend was speaking directly to him. “Read the verse again, where the young woman is talking to friends of hers. It appears at both the middle and the end of the passage. The way we prepare ourselves to spend our lives with someone else is that we must trust in the provision of Almighty God. Anything else would be playing with fire. You do not play with love, you let it grow, naturally and of its own volition. Let us sing from the hymnal.”

  Cassie stood and grabbed Max’s hand pulling him up next to her. She opened the hymnal and offered Max to hold the other. As they sang the closing hymn, Max caught sight of a woman dressed in black towards the side of the church.

  Mrs. Pennyworth!

  She stood there singing, with her hands clasped in front of her chest.

  “What did you think of the sermon?” Cassie asked.

  Mrs. Pennyworth looked over and gave him a wink. He thought he might be playing with fire.

  Chapter 8

  “Don’t touch that,” Max said, taking a cravat from Cassie’s hands.

  “How am I supposed to help if you keep taking things away from me?” She gave him a pout and picked up another tie. “Where should this one go?”

  Max took a deep breath. This was more difficult than he thought. He went from being alone and doing things the way he wanted them, to having not one, but two employees that were pushing the limits of his patience. Not to mention another woman in the house, since Mrs. Brown moved in. After hearing Reverend Bing’s sermon, he wanted as minimal temptation as possible when it came to Cassie.

  Max had really tried to practice patience these last two weeks, but every time he organized something, Cassie reorganized.

  He put the spools of ribbon along the wall according to color, she did it according to
width. When she left to check up on her father who was working from the house on the latest shipment of trousers, he rearranged it back to the way he liked. If Cassie noticed, she didn’t say a word.

  She even had him bring one of the empty wardrobes down to the store to create a display for the extra jackets that were taking up space in the store room.

  She handed him the cravat in her hand. “What would you think of putting the tie display against that wall over there? That way they are with the display of pocket watches and chains.”

  “I don’t know,” he hesitated. He didn’t like all this change.

  “Think about it, Max. I’m a customer. I come in,” Cassie insisted. She walked to the door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Blue,” she said in her deepest voice, taking long strides to the first table. “I see you have some mighty fine cravats here.” She put her hands on her hips and stood tall. “I was just saying to my missus; Missus, I really need a cravat; I’m going to run myself down to that haberdashery and get myself a new cravat.” She punched the air before crossing her arms and looked at Max, causing him to laugh.

  “I’ve never had a customer do that.”

  “Okay, how about this?” Cassie ran back to the front door. “Hello, Mr. Blue. My wife and I are going to the theater and I need to get a jacket. The one I have is pretty threadbare in spots.”

  She quickly jumped over to the wardrobe where she had put jackets on display. “Why, yes, Mr. Smith,” she said, imitating Max, “as you can see, we have a grand selection of the finest frocks for men you will get this side of the Mississippi. I think this one will fit you perfectly.” She took a jacket from the wardrobe and walked over to Max. “Let’s try it on, shall we?”

  Max allowed her to help him into the jacket. Once he had both arms in, she lifted the jacket to allow it to rest on his shoulders. Max felt her hands brush the shoulders and the back, removing any creases. His mouth went dry as her fingertips lightly caressed the fabric.

  “Turn around,” she softly said. Max complied and she made sure the lapels were just where they needed to be. Max watched her as she picked a piece of invisible lint from the front of the jacket.

  She looked at him and her mouth parted slightly. Max could see the tip of her tongue where she pressed it against her teeth. He gave a slight moan and cupped her face in his hands. He was about to lower his head, when she put on a serious face and grabbed his hands.

  “How about a new pair of pants to go with that frock?” she said, imitating him again.

  “What?” Max said.

  “You need a new pair of pants if you are going to take your wife to the theater. Did you know light pants are all the rage with a dark jacket? Here are our selection of pants.” She moved to another display and picked up a pair of light-colored trousers and draped them over Max’s arm. “These should fit you perfectly. Now, do you have a cravat?” She flitted to the corner where she wanted to display the ties and other sundries. “This one will do nicely.” Max took the cravat she handed to him.

  She then leaned against the workbench. “So, we started at the door and we ended up by the register in a perfect pattern.” She resumed her normal voice.

  Max looked at her. Her hazel eyes wide as she regarded him. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’ll take these.”

  “What? These clothes?”

  Max nodded. “You picked the perfect size, and I feel the need to take a lady to the theater.” He moved closer to Cassie. “What do you say?”

  “You want to take me to the theater?” she gave a little squeal. “I’ve always wanted to go to the theater.” She stopped suddenly. “I don’t have a thing to wear. I don’t have any nice clothes.”

  “We can get that taken care of.”

  “Oh, I can’t do that,” Cassie insisted.

  “Well, we will figure something out.”

  “If I can get some fabric, I can make myself a dress.”

  “Well then, we will take a trip over to the dry goods store.”

  Cassie gave a little squeal and wrapped her arms around Max giving him a hug. “Oh, when will we go?”

  “I heard that there is a new group of traveling performers in town. I think the shows start next week. How does that sound?”

  Cassie gave him another quick hug and kissed him on the cheek. “This is the best surprise ever!”

  Max spent the rest of the day listening to Cassie hum as she moved things around the store. When they wrapped up at the end of the day Max had to admit that the store looked much better than it had before.

  Cassie finished placing the last cravat on the display, and she stood back to admire her work. “What do you think, Max?”

  “I think it looks like a real upscale store.

  “What about that space over there?” he asked, pointing to an empty space.

  “I thought you might want to add a shaving station. The chair and display could go there when you are ready.”

  “That sounds remarkable.” Max wondered how she knew that a shaving station was on his list.

  “Well I think we are done. We should probably head home and see how many pairs of pants Father managed to hem today.”

  Home.

  Home had never sounded sweeter.

  Cassie laid out the pattern once more. She wanted to have no doubt before she cut the beautiful fabric that would become her dress for the theater.

  Cassie had purchased the fabric a few days before, and it had taken her this long to design a pattern and pin it in place. Max actually picked out the final fabric.

  She was going to go with a less expensive one, but he insisted on paying the difference. He added lace and cording to the pile; she could get her buttons, threads and needles from his shop. When it came time to ring it up, Max asked for it to be added to his account, and Cassie wasn’t able to pay a cent.

  He appeared quite pleased with himself. When they were done, they walked back up the street towards his house. They passed the mercantile window and Cassie noticed the blue dress wasn’t on display anymore.

  A sense of disappointment washed over her, but she was happy that a dress that beautiful was going to be worn by one of the lucky women in town.

  Moving one of the pins Cassie allowed her scissors to glide through the fabric.

  “Do you think you might be done with the table soon? I think Mrs. Brown wanted to set it for dinner.”

  She turned to see Max standing in the doorway. She gave him a quick smile before turning back to her fabric. “Mrs. Brown can have your table back as soon as I’m done cutting this out.”

  Max came over and stood next to her. Cassie could smell his bay rum and pomander. It tickled her sinuses and settled in her chest. She felt a warmth stirring and paused her cutting. She didn’t want to be distracted as this was the last bit she had to cut.

  Max must have noticed her stopping. “I was just watching you.” He stepped back so she could continue. “You will look beautiful once it is done.”

  “Thank you.” Cassie finished the last clip and laid the scissors to the side. She gathered up the fabric pieces and placed them in a pile. “I’ll start on the skirt first.”

  She opened up the two cut pieces and looked at the fabric. It was a cream with delicate roses on it. She had never had anything so fine before.

  “I hope I’ll get it done before the theater.”

  “About that,” Max said. “We aren’t going next week.”

  Cassie looked at him. “Not going?” Of course. He must not want to be seen with her. She saw the way some of the ladies in town looked at her. They would sneak glances and then whisper among themselves. Why didn’t she see it?

  Max was a member of the Creede upper class. She was just a factory worker pretending to be something she wasn’t.

  Cassie put the fabric back down on the table. No need to hurry to make a dress now. She tried to hide her disappointment as Max didn’t say anything.

  “We are going tonight.”

  Cassie glanced back u
p at him. “Tonight?”

  “We’ve been invited to a private showing tonight before it opens to everyone.”

  “Oh, my goodness, I don’t know what to wear. I was expecting to have this ready early next week.”

  “Don’t fret,” he said, taking her hand and guiding her to the sitting room. “A package came for you today.”

  “For me?”

  “Open it.”

  Cassie sat down on the settee and placed a box wrapped in plain brown paper on her lap. She looked at Max. “Go on,” he signaled.

  “I wonder what it is.” She lifted the corner of the wrapping, gently unfolding it so as not to tear the delicate paper. When the paper was removed and carefully folded to the side, she lifted the lid and a soft noise escaped her lips.

  “Oh,” she said. Inside the box was the dress from the mercantile window. It was even more beautiful than from behind the glass.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  Cassie lifted the dress out of the package and stood, letting the box fall to the floor. She held the dress up to her and twisted back and forth so the skirt flared around her ankles.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything so beautiful.”

  “So, you do like it?” Max asked.

  Cassie laid the dress back down on the sofa and quickly wrapped her arms around Max’s neck. “I more than like it. I love it.”

  “I’m glad. I saw it and immediately thought of you. I had it put aside when I heard about the theater in town.”

  “But you bought fabric.”

  “You needed another dress. Your father I was able to dress from the haberdashery. Unfortunately, we don’t sell women’s goods.”

  “You are too good to me,” she said leaning to give him a peck on the cheek.

  Max must have seen her intention as he turned his face, capturing her lips with his own. Cassie had never been kissed. She had heard about it from the girls in the building. She had even witnessed her brother sneak a kiss in the hallway.