by Dawn Kinzer
“You did that on your own.” Annie stifled a yawn. “A local girl applied, but your letter and experience at Macy’s in New York convinced Mr. Carter you’d be an asset.”
“I was honest and explained that I was only employed at the department store during one holiday season. But I learned a great deal while there, and I mentioned that after getting acquainted with his store, I might have ideas for drawing more customers in.”
“People around here live simple lives, but I’m sure Mr. Carter would be willing to try anything not too extravagant. He would like your help with buying for the store, and he’s also spread word that you’ll be available to consult customers on the latest fashions.” Annie set her cup on the nightstand next to her. “There won’t be many hours to start—only two days a week—but you’ll enjoy it. I promise.”
“I’m sure I will, especially with you employed there too.” Although she looked forward to the new adventure, Hope also felt a little nervous. “Regardless of how little I make, it’s important that I contribute to the finances while here. I don’t plan to take advantage of you or your mother’s hospitality.”
“Your offer is appreciated.” The color in Annie’s face deepened. “Selling the livery after Father died gave us enough savings to survive on as long as we’re careful. We have chickens for eggs and a huge garden and raspberry patch in back. With my job at the store and Mother occasionally helping out at the hotel, we manage. But while she’s gone, a little extra cash will come in handy.”
Annie’s honesty touched Hope. Money was a touchy subject with most people. When her father had shown her paperwork drawn up by his lawyer, Hope had gasped at the amount left in her hands—literally thousands—to be drawn out as needed. But she had no intention of using any of it—ever. Although they lived comfortable lives, her parents weren’t wealthy. They’d depend on that nest egg as they grew older.
Just as important was her determination to prove she could make it on her own without her parents’ financial support—or a husband’s. The thought of depending on someone her entire life scared Hope. She didn’t want her parents taking care of her forever, and she certainly didn’t want to marry a man in order to have food, clothing, and shelter provided. She’d only marry someone she truly loved and who viewed her as a partner—like how her father treated her mother. Not someone to be bullied and controlled.
She couldn’t fail at becoming a successful designer—she just couldn’t. Despite the obstacles, she had to make that dream come true. Hope yearned to create beautiful things, and designing could also bring financial independence.
Annie cleared her throat, drawing Hope’s attention again. “Along with a little housework, I could also use your help weeding.” She raised one eyebrow, and her eyes twinkled. “It’s a mighty big garden for one person to tend, and these muscles can only take so much.” She wore a pained expression as she rubbed her back.
Hope gave Annie a little shove. “I’ll be glad to help, old woman. And when I’m not at the store or helping around the house, I can work on my designs.”
“My cousin, a famous fashion designer.” Annie made a flourishing gesture in the air with her hand and winked at Hope. “Who would have thought? Finally, I’ll have something to brag about, even if it isn’t about my own accomplishments.”
“I wish I had your confidence in my future.” Hope leaned back on the headboard and stared at the ceiling.
“Of course you’ll be a great success. Why would you think otherwise?” Annie sounded like anything else would be preposterous.
How much should she confess? Perhaps all. “Sometimes I get frustrated.” Hope lifted her head and caught the concern in Annie’s eyes. “Ideas come to me all the time, but I have trouble transferring them to paper. And sometimes I struggle putting fabrics together to create what I envision in my head.”
Annie’s eyebrows lifted. “Then why try so hard?”
How could she explain? There was a lot more to it than desiring independence. Sure, she wanted to financially support herself, but she also yearned to be more like her parents. They made a difference in people’s lives, and they enjoyed it, even when they faced what sometimes felt like insurmountable challenges. “Of course it would be nice to be famous, but when I help women feel pretty, it makes me...happy.” Hope sipped her tea. “Do you remember me mentioning the neighbors in the blue house next to ours in New York?”
“The family with two daughters?”
“That’s the one. Because Winnie is quite tall and thin, and Lula is short and thick around the waist, they were teased mercilessly by schoolmates with the ‘Jack Sprat’ nursery rhyme.”
“‘Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean.’”
“Exactly, only their names were substituted for Jack Sprat and wife. At sixteen and fourteen years, you can understand why they feared ridicule and refused to attend social functions. So one day, with their mother’s permission and a seamstress’s help, I convinced them to let me make some changes to their clothing.”
“And?” Annie’s voice relayed sincere interest.
“Fuller sleeves and skirts gave Winnie a more filled-out appearance, and several adjustments, like a different bodice with trim directing the eye away from the waist, made Lula look a little slimmer. Their delight warmed my heart. I knew then God had given me something to do.” Not a purpose as grand or challenging as what others might be given, but one regardless.
“Annie, I have to learn how to express what’s in my head or I’ll go crazy. The only way I can explain it is to compare it to what Mozart might have experienced in my position—not that I’m that gifted by any means. But think about Mozart having symphonies or concertos ringing in his head without a way to play them or even write them down. God bestowed Mozart with talent, but he still had to learn how to write music so it could be shared with people through the centuries.
“It’s the same for me. I have to do my part and take responsibility for developing my God-given gift. Otherwise, the creativity God has given me will go to waste, and I won’t continue to embrace the joy I feel when a woman wears a garment I’ve imagined into reality. I want to create lovely clothes because I believe if a woman feels beautiful on the outside, she’ll also feel good about herself inside. I know it sounds grandiose and conceited, but if Butterick accepts one of my designs, someday women across the country may sew and wear one of my dresses.”
“It will happen.” Annie sat back and hugged bent knees. “I know it will.”
“I submitted several sketches before I left New York and asked that a response be sent to your post office box, but it may take some time before I receive a letter. When I dwell on it, I don’t sleep or even think clearly.”
“We’ll just have to keep your mind occupied with other things.” Annie sounded confident it would be an easy task, but then, she’d always been an optimistic soul.
“Oh, I haven’t told you!” Hope, in her excitement to share the news, almost spilled her tea. “Before she left New York, my mother wrote to Eva Lancaster, an old friend of hers. She moved from Manhattan to Minneapolis after her father died. I was too young to remember her. The last several years, she’s made quite a name for herself in fashion design. My mother asked if she might correspond and give me some advice.”
“That sounds exciting.”
“I want to learn everything I can from Miss Lancaster.” Eva wasn’t married, and she had a successful career doing what she loved. One woman who had proven it could be done.
Annie nudged her. “You’ll let me see the drawings, won’t you?”
“Of course. You always have good insight.” Hope grimaced. “Unlike some people,” she said under her breath, then sighed. She shouldn’t allow Mr. Greene’s opinion to bother her. He wasn’t an artist.
Ben also couldn’t have known how his disapproving words had stung and reminded her that even after working diligently, she still hadn’t impressed any of her art teachers. They kept pushing her do to better, demanding that
a true artist would never be satisfied, but would always strive for perfection. Her instructors wanted Hope to follow in their footsteps as real painters, but she had no aspirations of becoming a second Rembrandt or Michelangelo.
“How well do you know Benjamin Greene?”
Annie’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Why do you ask?”
“Silly reason.” Regardless, some insight might be helpful. “While on the train, he shared some critical remarks about my sketches—all unsolicited.”
Annie scrunched her face. “It seems strange that Ben would have anything to say about some drawings, especially fashion designs.” She shrugged. “Ben and Jake moved here two years ago after their great-uncle died and left Jake his farm. It was pretty rundown because the uncle was old and sick for some time. They’ve worked hard to bring the place back to life.”
“So, it’s just the two of them?”
“Their two older twin brothers, Samuel and David, and their sister, Ruth, all live on the family farm with their parents. Their father has been ill, so Ben went to see him and the rest of the family. That’s why he was on the train.”
“And Jake?”
“He stayed behind to take care of the farm.” Annie blushed. “He takes his responsibilities to heart.”
“Sweet cousin, you like Jake.” Hope would get her to admit it.
“Of course I do. Everyone likes Jake. Ben may be quiet and serious, but Jake is...Jake is funny and charming. He’s always willing to go out of his way for people—like today when he helped us home from the train station.”
“And along with being very likeable, he’s also quite good-looking, wouldn’t you say?”
Annie gave an exaggerated sigh, then smiled. “Yes, I care about him. Jake has become a good friend. My mother occasionally hired both brothers to help around here, and Jake does errands and odd jobs for Mr. Carter at the store to help pay for improvements on the farm. So when he’s around, we talk. Jake is nice to everyone. But, I’ll keep my feelings to myself. It’s safer that way. I don’t want to get hurt, and I won’t risk losing his friendship.”
Hope understood guarding one’s heart. However, despite Annie’s denial, there was something special happening between her and Jake. “Maybe someday...”
“Maybe...” Annie winked. “And maybe I’ll become Queen of England.”
Hope sipped her cooled tea. “Well, here we are like two school girls sharing gossip. If only our mothers could see us.”
Annie’s lips turned up at the corners, and her eyes sparkled. “How many times while growing up do you suppose they sat like this at the end of the day?”
“They probably planned more adventures than what they’ll ever tell.” Hope traced the edge of her cup with her thumb. “They certainly maneuvered this one well.”
“Hope, you’re not sorry you came, are you?” Annie eyebrows furrowed above eyes that filled with worry. “I never wanted you to feel like this was your only choice.”
“No! I’m glad I’m here.” That was the truth. Hope felt more at peace than she had in a long time. “Please don’t think otherwise. What I just said—it came out all wrong.”
“Our mothers are both protective. Mine didn’t want me to feel abandoned while she’s in Michigan, and she’ll be there indefinitely. Marie wasn’t comfortable with any of the nannies she interviewed. But she can’t take care of newborn twins herself when the older twins are only two years old.” Annie raised her hand with palm up. “Who has two sets of twins only two years apart?”
A laugh burst from Hope’s lips. “Marie has always had a tendency to do everything in a big way.”
“You’re right!” Annie held up her cup in agreement. “I may not be married with a lawyer husband, but I’m still a grown woman, and I can take care of myself.”
“Of course you can.” Hope had tried to convey the same about herself to her parents, and they’d agreed she was capable—under normal circumstances.
“And you can too.” Annie wiggled into a different position on the bed so they faced each other. “Hope, I’m beyond elated that you’re here, but I know for you to leave New York...” Annie eyes swam with sympathy. “That horrible man.”
Without thinking about it, Hope’s fingers found the area where bruises once marked her arm. “I wanted to stay in the city because my friends and the Butterick company are there, but my parents said they couldn’t leave the country until I promised to put some distance between myself and Henry. They have enough concerns in Panama. I couldn’t give them something else to worry about.” Hope’s lips teased into a smile. “Besides, how could I refuse to spend time with my favorite cousin?”
“I won’t tell Marie you said that.” Annie snuggled up beside Hope and put her arm around her. “You’re a brave woman.”
Hope leaned her head on Annie’s shoulder. “Brave or not, I could never marry anyone who didn’t support my dreams. And any man not courageous enough to go after his own would never understand what it takes.”
chapter four
Annie, why didn’t you make me change into something more suitable?” Hope’s pale blue silk shirtwaist and matching skirt felt ostentatious as she surveyed the families pulling up to the church in dusty buggies or farm wagons. “I want people to like me—not think I’m trying to impress them.
“You’re lovely, and no one could ever think anything unkind of you.” Annie’s smile lit up her face. “So, quit dawdling.”
Annie led Hope up the steps to the front doors of the church and down the aisle. As a newcomer, she expected some curiosity, but heat rushed into her face at the number of heads turning to catch a glimpse. Annie, however, either didn’t notice or didn’t care that they were being viewed like attractions in a circus sideshow. They settled into a pew on the left side and picked up a hymnal as Rebecca Hoyt began playing an introduction to the first song.
While attending her uncle’s funeral, Hope had met the pretty blonde at the piano. Since then, Annie had shared through letters the scandal involving one of Annie’s friends, Sarah, and the current reverend. Sarah and other customers had overheard Rebecca in the Home Store gossiping about an inappropriate relationship she believed was taking place between the reverend and Sarah.
After all the hurtful rumors she’d spread about the couple, Rebecca had attended the Methodist church for a while. But witnessing that she again attended the same church as Reverend Caswell and Sarah—now Mrs. Caswell—was surely a miracle and a testament to the power of forgiveness and the kind of people who lived in Riverton. Maybe Hope had been too quick to judge those gawking at her.
“Good morning, ladies,” a male voice whispered from behind them. “Glad to see you made it on time.”
Annie turned around with a soft giggle. “Good morning, Jake.” She gave a slight nod. “Ben.” Then she faced the front again with a smile that looked like it would never fade.
The congregation stood and began singing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” before Hope could react and acknowledge the two men behind them.
Precious Jesus, help me. Hope sighed inside. Not only would she have to spend the afternoon with Ben, but she’d have to sit through an entire church service, knowing he could watch her every move.
Her cousin’s beautiful alto notes harmonized with the melody, adding a rich layer to the music, but Ben’s smooth tenor relayed emotion that spoke to Hope’s spirit. The earnestness surprised her. She could almost feel the Lord standing next to her and taking her hand.
Remembering how Henry had mocked her propensity to sing off-key, Hope sang with a mere whisper, almost mouthing the words, so as not to offend anyone or intrude upon their worship with her lack of musicality.
“‘What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!’”
Her parents’ favorite hymn—one they often sang or hummed around the house as they went about their day. One they might be singing this very moment.
“‘What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer!’”
; It was the right thing for her parents to follow their calling, and she was proud of them. But Panama was so far away. Hope already missed them, and she also worried about them. They could contract a disease and even die before she’d have a chance to see them again.
“‘Oh, what peace we often forfeit; oh, what needless pain we bear.’”
If she’d had her wish, the three of them would still be in New York, together and safe. Nothing felt sure right now. Not her parents’ return, and certainly not Hope’s future in fashion design.
“‘All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer!’”
Though she knew the song by heart, Hope tried to focus on the words printed in the hymnal, but they blurred before her like a distorted watercolor. This would never do—crying in church, before the service had barely started. She tried to discreetly brush moisture from her eyes. If she ever needed Jesus as a friend, it was now.
***
Ben leaned back in his seat and tried to focus on Reverend Caswell’s sermon, which normally was easy to do. The messages were always challenging and inspiring, and Ben looked forward to them every Sunday. But today was different, and it had nothing to do with the reverend’s words or his delivery. Ben just couldn’t keep his mind off the woman sitting directly in front of him.
Hope hadn’t turned around and acknowledged them like Annie. Why? Women. Hard to understand. Maybe she was trying to send a message. He’d been looking forward to spending the afternoon with her and another chance to—to what? Become friends? After his ill-mannered behavior the day before, he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t feel the same.
If he had a sketch pad and pencil, he’d draw the feminine lines of her profile—the way she tilted her head when she turned to whisper to Annie. He’d include the silky, curling tendrils of golden hair that escaped from beneath her hat and rested on the upright collar wrapped around her neck. Ben had memorized her eye color, and without doubt, it matched the blue shade in her dress.
