The Blue Ribbon Brides Collection

by AlLee, Jennifer L. ; Breidenbach, Angela; Franklin, Darlene

  A small sigh from a dozen women, let out at the same time, resembled the sound of rustling leaves through the rafters.

  Chapter 4

  Have you heard of candied popcorn?” Luke pointed at the busy booth on the thoroughfare. An ornate sign advertised A CRACKER JACK, SWEET CONFECTION OF POPCORN WITH PEANUTS AND MOLASSES INVENTED BY FREDERICK WILLIAM RUECKHEIM AND BROTHER. The aroma of buttery popcorn and rich molasses wafted over to them, floating in the warm late-spring air. His mouth watered at the scent.

  Miss Gilbert indulged his sudden curiosity. “Cracker Jack. Yes, it’s delicious. Would you like to taste it?” Slipping her hand through his elbow, she tugged him along as she shared what she knew. “There’s a little shop that started selling earlier this year near where I live. It’s fun to get some and share it during readings, picnics, and parties.”

  They parked themselves at the back of the long line. “That good?”

  “Sweet chewy popcorn and peanuts in a candy sauce? Delectable.” She craned to see the front of the line. “I wish it wasn’t so sticky, but I can’t resist.”

  “Then I’m sure I won’t be able to, either.” He didn’t just mean the Cracker Jack stand as he looked at her.

  When Miss Gilbert glanced up, her green eyes caught the light. All he could do was stare.

  Then she asked him to put words together coherently. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? Until today, the only thing I knew about Montana is that it became a state four years ago. That’s not very long to become civilized. I’m so curious.” She gave him a half smile. “Well, and I now know much more about the flora from visiting your exhibit.”

  “You realize there’s more than one Montana exhibit? We’re a diverse population for as few of us as there are.”

  “I haven’t been as far around the fair as I’d have liked today.” She turned her head and lifted a shoulder slightly. “The sheer size of it is daunting. I’ve been able to take in several agricultural and botanical displays. But I didn’t look for any particular state presentations, other than a quick walk through a few buildings.”

  “Why did you come, if not to experience the world at your fingertips?”

  “I came to connect with botanists more than anything.” She looked to see how the line was moving. “What other exhibits should I see when I come back?”

  She planned to come back! What would she enjoy? “There’s the Montana building, full of crafts and skilled workmanship. You’ll learn our state has talents and resources that rival any in the known world. We’re much more civilized than you think.” He gestured at his attire. “Why, we even wear up-to-date fashions.”

  She giggled. “That sounds like an interesting exhibit. What else?”

  The mining exhibits would likely fascinate the scientist in Miss Gilbert, but Luke was after the opportunity to properly court her, if she wasn’t already spoken for. If she believed Montana offered civility and culture, there’d be one less hurdle to leap should she consider him husband material. “Then this evening one of our ladies will sing at the opening of the music hall.” He decided to take a chance. “Do you like music?”

  “Yes.” She moved forward with him in the line. “But we’re supposed to be talking about you.”

  “I like music.”

  She laughed and his heart pounded a little harder. A wife with a gentle but quick laugh. Yes, that would be a good quality. Humor could help weather hard times.

  “What kind of music do you like?”

  “All kinds.”

  “Ah, too general, I’m afraid. Please be more specific.”

  More specific? That answer would satisfy most women. Could that mean true interest? He thought for a moment. “I suppose I enjoy marches that inspire and invigorate, like John Philip Sousa, and songs with words.”

  She looked a little surprised. “Songs with words?”

  “Songs I can sing when I’m working or want to take my mind off something difficult.”

  “Oh, that’s interesting.” She considered his answer. “Then you like to sing as well. See? I learned something about you. Music is cultivated, so therefore”—she paused and gave him a mischievous look down her nose—“I declare thou must be civilized.”

  Her playful expression made him smile. “We Montanans are relatively sophisticated, Miss Gilbert. We’re even a cultured people. I’d be happy to prove it if I may escort you to the concert tonight?”

  She grinned but shook her head. “I do appreciate your thoughtful invitation. But I’ve promised to return home before dark. My parents are worried enough that I’m off alone.”

  She’s from Chicago. “How did you manage to pull off such a feat, then?”

  “I explained the need to make connections with people I admire in my field. It’s not appropriate to take parents along for potential business contacts.”

  “Wise on both counts.” They finally reached the stand, and she waited while he ordered. Hands full of a box of fresh caramel corn with peanuts sprinkled through it, Luke guided Bettina to the soda shop and managed to order sandwiches and sparkling refreshments in half the time it took to obtain the sweets. They found a shady spot next to a tree surrounded by droves of fairgoers picnicking or resting on the lawn and a duck quacking on the pond.

  “All right, your turn. What interested you in botany?” He separated a chunk of sticky stuff from the rest. He leaned back against the tree and chewed a bite as he listened, amused at the delicate way she handled the candied corn. Neither had chosen the sandwiches first.

  “When my oldest brother began studying medicine, my father bought a microscope. I thought it was the most fascinating toy ever. I put everything I could find under it. Plant life fast became my favorite.” She picked a blade of grass. “Did you know you can see leaves breathe under a microscope? Actually, they’re undergoing photosynthesis and creating oxygen so we can breathe. But the way light becomes food in, say, a blade of grass, is amazing.” She spun it between her thumb and forefinger. “Don’t you think?”

  He thought he understood. “Where I see a blade of grass, you see a whole different world. Is that it?”

  “Yes.” Miss Gilbert tilted her head. “But it’s more. I see ideas, solutions to many of the problems our world faces, like starvation and disease. Can you imagine what it would be like to discover a way to optimize crops for higher production? How many more people could we feed if crops produced even ten percent more? Lack of nutrition is the highest cause of illness and mortality. What if a new plant enzyme cured a childhood disease? Who’s going to cure tuberculosis?”

  “You see all that in a plant?” He frowned. “What do you see when you look at an animal, then? Or a human being?”

  She peeked up from under the short brim of her pretty purple hat. “Complex. Human nature is part of that package.”

  He chuckled. The woman before him could be described as that and then some. “How does one study the complexities of human nature?”

  She dipped her chin and brushed her fingers across the grass.

  He couldn’t see her face except for the gentle slope of her cheek and the length of her graceful neck. His fingers itched to brush her soft skin the way she touched the lawn.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I chose plants.” She raised her face to him. “I’ve never been very comfortable with people. At school”—she gestured back toward the Woman’s building—“and with people who enjoy the science of botany, I know how to communicate. But I’m less of a social person than most. I don’t understand how to—”

  What was it about this woman that made him want to encourage her? “You’re doing fine with me.” Very fine, as a matter of fact. He doubted the conversation would be as stimulating with her if all she wanted to discuss were dresses, shopping, and gossip. “I’ve never thought of a blade of grass or a leaf breathing or making oxygen so I could breathe. You look at creation differently than anyone I’ve ever met before.”

  Miss Gilbert grimaced. “I know. Again, I don’t know
how to make small talk, no matter how hard I try. Hence, my mother fears I’ll never marry.” She shrugged.

  “No beau, then?”

  “No.”

  Not spoken for. If he could leap for joy at the news, he would. He checked his excitement so as not to push her away. He might be on a time schedule with only these few months, but she didn’t need to know it. “I take it that’s not on your favorite topics list, either?”

  “Marriage isn’t a bad topic. I just don’t know of many men who want a woman who wants to work after the wedding.” She repositioned her legs, curling them on the other side. “My father says most men aren’t enthused about a woman driving the cart at full speed. But I’m not ready to hand over the reins and darn socks. I like the challenge of accomplishment.”

  The curve of her hip drew his fascination as she moved into a more comfortable position. He needed a wife and quick! But he didn’t want only that. The miners who’d met and married their mail-order brides in one day didn’t always have the happiest homes. He’d watched too many disastrous examples, even abandonment, because they couldn’t work things out. He knew a few miners with beautiful wives at home who worked and lived at their stakes, avoiding married life after spending so much money to bring a wife to Montana. He didn’t fear marriage. But he sure feared being in the wrong marriage. Slow it down and get the right wife, his father had said. Get to know her first. Wasn’t that what he was trying to do?

  He swallowed and put his mind back on her words. “So you’re not ruling out marriage, if the right fellow came along?”

  “No. I look forward to finding the right fellow, as you say. I don’t think he’s going to be all that easy to find. They all seem to want wives who dress pretty and pop out lots of pretty babies.” She clasped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened and her face flared a peachy pink.

  Luke reached out and tugged her fingers away, brushing her lips with his thumb. “Please, don’t be embarrassed with me. Not all men want that kind of wife. Makes for dull evenings if there’s nothing to talk about, don’t you agree?” He held her fingers loosely entwined between them in the grass. “People need to find common ground and know they have interests to share before picking a mate.” Would she pull away?

  She didn’t immediately. She offered a smile and slow nod, though she lowered her eyes again as her face cooled. “Ah, but I think you have your own matchmaking dynasty back there.” Dusty brown lashes hid her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry if they embarrassed you. They mean well. I’ve told them this is something a man has to do himself. I don’t think they believe me though.” He gave her a wry grin. “Some of us are looking for a smart wife who makes a man think and can hold her own. Montana is a place that needs men and women who want to develop her resources. There’s opportunity to create the future there for goal-minded people.” Releasing her hand, he leaned in and touched her chin, willing her to lift her gaze to his. When she did, he added, “Some of us are intrigued by women who have goals and dreams.”

  Her green eyes illuminated. “Oh.”

  “But hopefully she won’t rule out children,” Luke half teased.

  Her face relaxed into a bright smile. “A woman like that might be convinced.” She rose to her knees. “I really need to be going. We’re staying in a town house in the city this summer. The omnibus schedule should get me home before dark, if I hurry.”

  “I’ll see you to the stop.” He stood, offering a hand to help her rise. As she brushed grass from her skirt, he picked up the residue of their late lunch. He deposited the empty box and cups in the receptacle as an exotically dressed runner with a wicker seat on wheels attached to long handles approached. “It’s a long walk. Would you mind a rickshaw to the gate?”

  “Delighted.”

  He signaled the driver. “Front gate, nearest the downtown omnibus stop, please.”

  She placed her hand in his and stepped into the wicker seat basket. “I’ve traveled by steamship in and rickshaw out. Today’s been an adventure the whole way through.”

  He climbed in beside Miss Gilbert.

  The runner raised the long wooden bars to his hips and headed toward the main gate, city side. A short ride later he collected a few coins from Luke and set off after another fare.

  “When will you return?” Luke walked with her to the omnibus stand.

  “I haven’t a set schedule, but I did agree to volunteer at the Montana pavilion with your friends. I suppose I should stop in tomorrow morning to set a schedule?”

  “I’ll let the ladies know to expect you.” He’d find a reason to visit, often. Deep down, he knew the wife he searched for, prayed for, hoped for—Miss Bettina Gilbert—needed time to come to the same conclusion.

  The approaching horses clopped to a stop, drawing the long carriage to a halt. Ten to twelve passengers filed down the three wooden steps. Very few looked to be leaving on this omnibus. With concerts at several points and hours left for the midway to run yet, the transportation system would be heavily taxed a few hours from now.

  “What do you actually do at the exhibit, besides buy candied corn and entertain tourists?” she asked with a light tone.

  “I don’t work at that exhibit, Miss Gilbert.” He took her hand to assist with boarding the rear steps into the long carriage. “My purpose here is to promote the mineral, ore, and mining industry of Montana to the world.”

  She stared at him. “You’re a miner?”

  “Yes and no. I’m a mine owner looking for opportunities to grow and attract business from the resources in my state. And I admit that I hope to find a wife who would enjoy doing those things with me.” He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again.”

  She snatched back her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Edwards. Thank you for a lovely afternoon. I don’t think we have those commonalities you’re looking for.”

  Had he offended her by being honest? “Miss Gilbert?”

  She disappeared into the omnibus.

  What just happened? He stared after the departing vehicle taking away the one woman he wanted.

  Chapter 5

  The month of May had passed into a lovely June. The flowers and trees burst colorful beauty all over the carefully planned grounds. Bettina volunteered two to three days a week, though she remained cautious around Luke Edwards. Getting involved with someone so far from her ideology would be a disaster. Her personal feelings about mining notwithstanding, how could she compromise? After all, his goals cost lives while hers saved them. But, oh my. My, my, my how she liked his magnanimous personality. His low laugh that sent ripples through her belly. Liked the confidence in his walk and the breadth of his shoulders.

  With the Mining and Mineral building at a distance, it hadn’t been too hard to keep space between her and Luke as well. But she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him when he arrived with supplies or to assist one of the other ladies. Unfortunately, Lydia or Jennie managed to notice, or were they intentionally watching her reactions?

  Scholars and the audience could readily rip apart her farming theory during her slot at the scientific congress tomorrow if she didn’t have the new research incorporated. Research that hadn’t been released during her last year at college. Afterward, Clara McAdow promised the introduction to Reverend Doctor Kelsey. Would he feel she’d earn her place at Oberlin? Without the repeated practices her friends encouraged, it wouldn’t be possible at all.

  “But can you imagine what this new knowledge means, Lydia?” Bettina leaned across the table in the center salon of the Montana pavilion, grateful for this opportunity. What a blessing to rehearse and debate the ideas in her demonstration with Lydia and Jennie acting as devil’s advocates. “Since the agriculturists here in Illinois discovered crop maturity advances from south to north as much as twelve miles per day, farming strategy could revolutionize how we produce food on a grander scale. Look at the hundreds of miles from south to north in Montana alone.”

  Nodding, Jennie measured th
e distances. “What you’re saying is we could gain approximately twenty-six more growing days across the country with this strategic crop planning and at least add a good portion of those growing days in Montana.”

  “Yes!” Bettina clapped.

  Lydia waved a hand in the air. “Bettina, we have to take climate into account. Much of that south to north line is along mountainous terrain. If the chemistry isn’t right …” She let the comment hang in the air like a hawk on a current. Sooner or later that hawk would dive for a mouse.

  Bettina gave her a curious look. “The chemistry?”

  Jennie and Lydia exchanged glances.

  “It’s like good relationships. If you sow on fertile ground and pull the weeds of misunderstanding regularly, then your tender crop has a chance,” Jennie said.

  Bettina’s brow crinkled. Were they talking about farming and harvests? “I’m sure you’re right.” She swept a hand from bottom to top over the map in the almanac. “By teaching farmers to plant crops with longer growth cycles farther south and plants with shorter growth cycles to the north …”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lydia and Jennie were sending silent hand signals. But as soon as she looked up, the ladies suddenly seemed to be smoothing a hairdo or skirt.

  “Hmm? What were you saying, dear?” Lydia smiled. “Do go on.”

  Bettina finished her tactical theory, though another was forming having nothing to do with wheat or corn or feeding the masses. “… those extra days, amount to be determined by the clime and … chemistry, can mean excess to send to cities, raising farmer income while filling higher populace needs.” She stood up fast as the two ladies snapped their eyes on the map with guilty looks.

  “I see. But you realize the last day of frost in Montana is not until quite late in May. Quite different than Illinois.” Lydia pointed at the northern area of the state.

  Were they beleaguering the climate point for a reason? Studying their uncharacteristically bland expressions, Bettina was sure the two had a secretive conversation going on they didn’t want her to know about. But about what?