by Lisa Prysock
“Secret bait?” Ambrosia held her spoonful of stew mid-air. Frankie looked interested to hear her answer, too, but he remained quiet. In fact, Mia didn’t remember him making barely any sounds at all. However, at present, she was more aware of the wranglers and Joshua observing her interactions with Ambrosia, all of them appearing eager to know about the secret bait.
Mia nodded. “Yes. Would you like to know what it was?”
“Oh yes!” Ambrosia nodded vigorously, as did Frankie.
“It was really a rather simple thing, but the fish loved it. We sometimes used kernels of cooked sweet corn on our hooks.” Mia smiled and picked up her glass of sweet tea.
“Corn?” Ambrosia repeated, her eyebrows raised and mouth dropping open.
Mia nodded again, laughing. Joshua and the wranglers made congenial comments about the idea of corn for bait. Apparently they’d heard about the secret bait, too. All of the men at the table agreed it was a great way to catch fish at times. A look in Frankie’s direction told her the young boy of about the same age as Ambrosia appeared lost in thought as he considered the idea.
“How come you never told me about this, Pa?” Ambrosia demanded, a playful tone in her question.
“Maybe because you never asked.” Joshua grinned as the others around the table chuckled.
Various discussions about the cattle ranch and the weather ensued, and the rest of the meal progressed without further tension. However, Mia dreaded the moment when Mr. Stanton would explain to his daughter about her new living arrangements. Hopefully he’d wait until they were perhaps removed to his study to have the discussion.
AS MIA HOPED, JOSHUA held a brief meeting with Ambrosia and her in his study after dinner. He explained that Ambrosia would be under the care of the governess around the clock and moving to the cabin, with an end to her summer plans beginning immediately. Then he explained about how she might earn rewarding days of summer play at the discretion of Lady Mia. Tears loomed in his daughter’s eyes.
Joshua sighed and softened his tone, and his words came out with obvious love in his voice. “Ambrosia, you have been expelled from Belle’s school, and now I have been left with no other choice. If you will not cooperate, I will be forced to send you to a very strict boarding school. It is time for you to learn the art and grace of becoming a young lady.”
“Boarding school?” Ambrosia choked out.
Mia observed the discussion quietly from the leather chair beside her pupil across from Mr. Stanton’s desk. This was exactly the conversation Joshua needed to have with his daughter.
“Yes, boarding school.” He retrieved a letter from a stack to the side of his desk. “Here is one back east who has already agreed to enroll you in next year’s fall term.”
“Pa!” Tears rolled down his daughter’s cheeks. “You’d send me away from home?”
“If you don’t begin to make the necessary changes to stop climbing trees, running around playing in the creek from dawn to dusk, ignoring the fact we could use more of your help around the household, causing trouble in your social interactions, refusing to adjust your attitude—frankly, yes, I will have no other choice.” Joshua waited to allow her to absorb his words. Then he continued. “I’ve done my best, but I am busy with the ranch from sunrise to sunset. You need someone who will teach you what your mother would’ve taught you if she were with us. You need to learn a few social graces, more appropriate manners, how to dress, cook, sew, speak, and many other studies. You need what only a fine lady can teach you such as Lady Mia.”
“I already know how to speak!” Ambrosia snapped, swiping her tears away. Mia refrained from handing her a handkerchief. She had a feeling the young pupil beside her would only push it away.
“See, there you go again, raising your voice to your elders. That is precisely what I’m trying to tell you. You have a temperament which needs adjustment.” Joshua shook his head. “Your mother would be so disappointed in you right now. Do this for your mother if not for yourself, Ambrosia. Make her proud of you as a young lady of accomplishment and purpose. Someday you will inherit Silver Aspen, and then what? You won’t know anything about keeping it going. Someone has to teach you.”
“I know how to ride horses and drive cattle. I know about branding them in the spring and I know about gathering the steers for market in the autumn,” she insisted with a defiant stomp of her foot.
“Did you just stomp your foot on the floor at me?” Joshua stood up from his desk, his eyes looking ablaze as if fire could come out of them. He didn’t raise his voice, but the look on his face required no shouting to be understood.
He placed both of his hands on his desk and stared at her for a moment. “Those two things are only a small part of running a cattle farm like this. Do you realize I will spend the next hour entering figures in the ledger and making a list of supplies we need from town? Do you know a single thing about planting and harvesting other than riding on the top of the hay wagon? And what of cooking meals? How about hiring employees and making payroll? Could you host a tea to entertain a few respectable women for an hour without forgetting your manners? Could you handle making the soap, filling the candle molds, baking a pie, darning my socks, making a menu for the week?”
Ambrosia looked down and wisely kept her mouth clamped shut.
“No, I don’t think you could do many of those things. I know you can feed the chickens and make your bed, but Fern has to remind you when to change the bed linens and take a bath, young lady.” He slowly sank back into his chair after staring at her for a few moments in silence. “Ambrosia, I love you, but it is time to begin to grow into the proper young lady you are meant to become.”
“I do care about the ranch, Pa. You know that,” she insisted, her voice barely above a whisper this time.
“Then show me you care about it. Show me you care about yourself. Show me you care about your mother, even though she can’t be here with you. Show me by cooperating with Lady Mia and respecting the other people in our lives. I wouldn’t have hired her to help you if I didn’t think it was in your best interest. Show me you do not want to go away to boarding school. It is entirely up to you. Your actions will determine your future and I will not change my mind.”
“Yes, Pa,” she whispered, staring at the floor, her blond hair tumbling forward, shielding her face from them.
“All right then, you may be excused to pack a few items and take them with you to the cabin. Lady Mia will accompany you upstairs and help you select the items you will need from your room.” Joshua rose from his seat and Mia gave him a grateful expression, mouthing a silent thank you as she steered her pupil toward the staircase.
Chapter 7
THE GREATEST SIGN OF success for a teacher...is to be able to say, ‘The children are now working as if I did not exist.’—Maria Montessori, Italian Educator, (1870-1952).
“THE FIRST THING YOU need to do after we pack a few items is take a nice hot bath.” Mia guided her pupil up the stairs with a calm, reassuring voice. “You’ll feel much better after a day of fishing.”
A little while later, they were settled into the cabin for the rest of the evening. There, Lady Mia brushed Ambrosia’s hair and braided it. Then she directed her student to hang her best dresses in the wardrobe and unpack her other items into a drawer in the bureau. Mia did the same, unpacking her trunks the best she could. Ambrosia watched her when she was done unpacking, noticing her fine garments with wide eyes, but saying little as she carefully put each item she’d brought from England in its proper place.
Then Mia placed her hands on her hips and yawned as she looked at her new mending pile. Ambrosia had several items in it.
“We need to sew your pocket back on your pinafore and mend these other items, but I think this pile needs washed first. I suggest we get a good night’s rest. It’s grown later than I thought. We’ll begin a few of our lessons tomorrow, but there are a few surprises I have planned after breakfast. You take the bed on the left of the fireplace, since I’ve already slept i
n this one.” With no argument, Ambrosia climbed beneath the quilt to her assigned bed.
“Surprises?” Ambrosia’s curiosity appeared a little piqued after she’d settled under the covers.
“You’ll see. I’ll read us a few verses from a short Psalm.” Lady Mia opened the Bible she’d placed on the little bedside table and read from Psalm 32. “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord...” Before long, she finished the verses and blew out the candle. “Good night, Ambrosia.”
“Good night, Lady Mia.”
A few moments later, Mia heard her pupil sigh, and then some tiny snores indicating Ambrosia had drifted off to sleep quickly. Somehow, she hoped Joshua’s stern talk had helped to pave the way for success and cooperation.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT Lady Mia, the fancy English governess the boss hired?” Thomas asked as he pulled off one of his boots and tossed it to the floor beside his bed.
“I think she’s awful pretty for a teacher.” Edward looked out of the loft window toward the flickering candlelight of the guest cabin. He’d watched Mia help Miss Stanton carry her possessions to the cabin when he took his customary evening walk with Mac. The new lady seemed diligent in nature.
“And smart about fishing, too.” Patrick chuckled and hung his hat on the peg near his bed before he sat down to pull his boots off.
“Do you think she can transform Miss Stanton into a lady, then?” Thomas grinned mischievously and chuckled at the prospect.
“I heard Fern say the lady teacher went to one of those finishing schools in London.” Edward yawned, ready to get a good night’s sleep. “I think she’ll succeed and transform Little Miss into a perfect lady.”
“I don’t know. Miss Ambrosia is pretty headstrong. She has a stubborn and wild streak in her.” Patrick shook his head. He held up five one dollar bills. “I’ll put five dollars down that ‘Prairie Princess’ can’t get Miss Stanton to stop that spitting Thomas taught her.”
Thomas laughed and nodded as he struggled with his other boot. It finally slipped off his foot and he tossed it to the floor. “All right, you’re on! I’ll side with Patrick and I’ll put five greenbacks on it. Little Miss loves to spit the farthest. I’m sure we’ll see her spit at least one more time this summer.”
“No baiting Miss Ambrosia into it, Thomas,” Edward shook his pointer finger at Thomas. “I’ll put ten greenbacks in against both of you if you’ll all go to sleep and quit your jawin’ so I can get some sleep. I’m tired. If I win, and Little Miss never spits again, I get five dollars from both of you, and I get to keep my ten. If one of you win, you can have my ten, split it, and keep your five dollars each.”
“Deal,” Patrick said as he lay back on his pillow and yawned loudly.
“Deal.” Thomas chuckled. “Easy money.”
THE NEXT MORNING, MIA rose early before her pupil, dressed, arranged her hair, washed her face with some water from the basin and pitcher, brushed her teeth, and hurried to the kitchen. Fern was already there flipping cakes on the cook stove in a cast iron skillet. The smell of bacon and coffee deliciousness met her before she even stepped inside the main house.
“Good morning, Fern.” Mia also noticed she had prepared a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice.
“Good morning, Lady Mia. What can I do for you?” Fern finished flipping one of the cakes in the skillet and then turned toward her, greeting her with a smile.
“Mind if I borrow a small plate of cakes and some orange juice? We’re going to have breakfast in the cabin this morning, but I need to hurry if we’re going to have a good start to our day,” Mia explained.
“You’d like some flapjacks and orange juice? Certainly, I’ll be happy to make you up a tray. Anything to help your endeavors with our Miss Ambrosia.” Fern nodded and gave her a knowing look. “Lord knows you have your hands full, but I’m praying for you.”
“Thank you, Fern. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” In minutes, Mia returned to the cabin with a tray loaded with all sorts of items for their breakfast. The cook had given her a stack of the cakes she referred to as flapjacks, some strips of bacon, two glasses of orange juice, a small jar of cherry preserves, a few molded butter pats in the shape of leaves, a pot of tea with a small crock of honey to sweeten it, one cup of coffee with cream, and dishes with utensils for two.
Thankfully, Ambrosia was awake and brushing her teeth. “Put your best dress on today, Miss Stanton. We’re going to town at some point.”
“We are?” Ambrosia smiled, appearing to like the idea.
“Yes, we are.” Mia set the tray down and began setting the table.
After breakfast, she eyed the hand pump. “Now, you need to wash the dishes. I’ll dry. Then I’ll arrange your hair into something proper for going to town.”
“Wash the dishes?” Ambrosia looked a little reluctant. Then she shrugged. “Sure, I can do that. I’ve helped Fern a few times.”
When the dishes were washed, dried, and stacked on the tray to return to Fern, Mia asked her to sit down at the table and then proceeded to arrange her hair into a fashionable style. She brushed, parted, and gathered it into two braids. Then she coiled the golden braids into loops on each side of her face and gave her a few wispy tendrils around her forehead. Then she used some of her own hair pomade, combs, and pins to keep everything in place. Holding up a small mirror, she asked her charge, “Do you like it?”
Ambrosia’s clasped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness, it’s beautiful! You must show me how to do this.”
Mia smiled warmly. “We’ll practice. I can show you some other styles as well, but for now, we need to see if we can borrow your father’s buggy or some other conveyance.”
“What are we going to do in town?” Ambrosia smoothed out her blue calico Sunday best dress.
“We’re going to order a new wardrobe for you. Something more appropriate for your age since you’ll soon be turning fourteen. Some of it we will sew ourselves, but most of it, we’ll order. Does Belle have a seamstress? I thought I saw a seamstress shop there, but if not, the mercantile will be adequate.”
Ambrosia’s face lit up with excitement. “We do have a new dress shop in town. I’ve not been there yet, but there’s also Widow Baker who takes in mending. I believe she has an assistant, Holly.” Miss Stanton stood by the long oval mirror where she could inspect her new hairstyle. “I would dearly love to visit the new seamstress shop, though.”
“Well, off we go. At least your dress is clean and ironed, but you’re sure to outgrow it by the end of summer. Let’s hurry; I’d like to speak to your father before the men go off to the open range.” Mia selected a parasol from the wardrobe, and a pair of gloves and her drawstring purse from the bureau. Then she held open the cabin door with her foot while putting on her gloves. “After you. Wait, where’s your bonnet?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Ambrosia turned back to the bureau to fetch her bonnet, an extra bounce in her step at the prospect of a shopping excursion.
“Oh, yes, that’s right,” Mia corrected.
“You seem to know a lot about cattle ranching, Lady Mia,” Ambrosia commented, following her out of the cabin.
“My father is a gentleman dairy farmer. In addition to owning a large herd of cattle and bulls, he also grows wheat and corn, besides owning a collection of horses. Practical experience and observation has taught me much, but I’ve also been studying the American western frontier since I was younger than you are.” Mia hurried along the stone path, crossing the terrace quickly. “Let’s see if your father is in his study before we head to the barn.”
MIA CLIMBED DOWN FROM the buggy they’d borrowed from the barn at Joshua’s insistence they travel to town in style. Following the road into Belle hadn’t been any trouble, and she’d enjoyed the drive as her pupil chattered away about life at Silver Aspen and her father. She tied the reins to a hitching post and waited for Miss Stanton to accompany her into the seamstress shop with the sign above it which read Pettigrew Dress Shop. A l
ittle bell rang as they entered, alerting the proprietress of their arrival.
“Hello, welcome to Pettigrew Dress Shop,” an attractive lady stepped out from behind a desk where she had been sewing, placing a garment aside. “Welcome, ladies. How may I help you? I’m Matilda Pettigrew. My sister, Mavis—also a fine seamstress—is working on filling an order in the back, or she’d step out to greet you.” She indicated the velvet sage green curtains drawn back with two forest green tiebacks, leading to a sewing room behind the front room.
“Hello. We are pleased to meet you. Pettigrew, is that French?” Lady Mia inquired as they looked around the shop. There were three mannequins wearing samples of the latest women’s fashions near the front window, and several tables with catalogs of fashion plates for customers to peruse.
Matilda nodded with a warm smile. “Yes, it is. We’re from New York, but we fell in love with the idea of moving west.”
“You, too? It’s wonderful out here, isn’t it?” Mia was overjoyed to meet a kindred spirit.
“It certainly is, and please, call me Tillie. Now how may we help you ladies?” Tillie looked at Mia and then Ambrosia.
“We need your help. I am Miss Stanton’s new governess, Lady Mia Morley, and the first thing we need to do is replace her wardrobe. We’re looking for something more like the sophisticated fashions for a young lady of today, perhaps something more like what you have on display in the window, only for her age.”
“Well you’ve come to the right place. Let’s have a seat and study a few of the latest ideas for you.” Tillie set them at ease at once, guiding them to sit down with her at a table with the latest fashion plates to study. She quickly pointed out a few styles. “These are ideal for young ladies of her age.”
Having the establishment to themselves, they studied the fashion plates with dreamy faces and joyful expressions. Sometimes they laughed about the corsets and bustles, and other times they asked questions about the styles. Ambrosia appeared excited about wearing a little bit of a bustle on her dresses, but she dreaded some of the styles. “Nothing with too many buttons or cumbersome high neck collars, please.”