Calico Brides

by Darlene Franklin

  She had waited long enough. She had to speak up.

  “I’m coming home with you.”

  “She’s pretty nice.” Dru spoke of the woman who had spent yesterday at the cabin tidying up and fixing a roast and vegetables they could eat over the next few days. Dru was kneading biscuit dough to eat with the leftover roast.

  Beau grunted. He still was of two minds about hiring one of “Birdie’s girls,” as they seemed to be known. No one could deny the change in Birdie, but did that mean he should hire one of her friends to work in his home alongside his impressionable niece? Much better for her to be under the influence of someone like Ruth Fairfield, even if she did place too much value on school learning. Intelligent, kind, compassionate, someone who loved the Lord as much as her preacher father did.

  Stop it. If Beau kept this up, he’d sound like he was describing the woman from Proverbs 31.While he admired many of Ruth’s qualities, he didn’t want to marry her or anyone else. He expected marriage to come before children, but God had changed the order in his case, and he didn’t have time to court a lady properly.

  Something rumbled outside, and Beau went to the door to check the sky. Even this late in the season, tornadoes were still possible. Please, Lord, protect us from a bad storm while we still only have this dwelling of mud and sticks.

  Clouds scudded across the darkening sky, but no wind stirred the dead air. The rumble came from the ground, from horses’ hooves and wagon wheels. The boys were back early.

  The wagon came into view, a second horse in the harness and a third figure in the wagon—Ruth Fairfield. She held the reins, pushing the horses to a faster speed than usual. As they approached, she pulled on the reins and stopped their progress. Drawn almost against his will, Beau approached and offered her his arm. “Good evening, Ruth.” Her name floated across his tongue like sweet honey. “Supper’s warm on the stove. Come on in and eat with us.”

  Ruth took a seat on one of the rickety chairs inside the soddy. Allan took a seat on the single bed, and Guy sat beside him, his eyes trained on the floor. Allan tucked his book bag under the bed and fiddled with the strap, releasing it then cinching it again.

  “Miss Fairfield!” Dru set down a plate of biscuits and flung her arms around her teacher. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. Let me get you some coffee.”

  “That would be nice, Dru.” Ruth waited, her hands folded in her lap. She accepted the mug from Dru, who then served her brothers. Allan waved it away, but Guy gulped the coffee like an elixir.

  As soon as Ruth sipped the drink, Guy spoke. “Uncle Beau, I lost my job at the bank.”

  Beau was flummoxed. He had never lost a job. The only people he had known to lose a job were either thieves or just plain lazy. Guy was neither of those things. Working his mouth, he came out with the words. “What happened?”

  This time Guy looked at Ruth, who gave him a small, encouraging nod.

  “I just couldn’t do the numbers right. I’ve never been good with numbers. Ask Miss Fairfield.”

  She nodded regretfully. “Math has always been… difficult…for Guy. He’s a fine young man but not suited to work at the bank.”

  Beau still didn’t understand the problem. “That’s why I asked you to tutor him at night, to catch him up on his figures.”

  Alan glanced at Ruth, who said, “That’s not the answer. Guy can do arithmetic well enough for most things, but a banker needs a feel for numbers. Guy’s interests lie in other areas.”

  Beau snorted. Guy’s interests? Most of the time life didn’t consist of a list of choices. A man figured out what he was supposed to do then went ahead and did it. That was it.

  The two boys scooted closer together on the bed, and Dru joined them. This felt like a conspiracy.

  Allan sat tall, his shoulders getting broad enough to equal Beau’s own. “The thing is, I would love a job at the bank instead of working out here at the farm. You’ve seen me around here. I’m more likely to hit my thumb than a nail with the hammer. Sometimes I feel like I can barely tell the difference between a bull and a steer. But I’d do well at the bank, I know I would.”

  Guy looked up. “And I go to school ’cause Ma and Pa expected it, but my favorite times are in the fields.” He dropped his gaze again.

  Ruth drained her cup. “There is a simple solution. Let Allan and Guy switch places. I wish they could both continue in school full-time, but Allan doesn’t need much before he’s ready to apply for the university, if he has a mind to when the time is right. And Guy would relieve some of your anxiety about the farm.”

  “Do you have any tricks up your sleeve for Dru?”

  The girl squirmed in her spot next to Guy.

  “Unfortunately, no.” Ruth turned a tender smile on Dru. “I think you are all coping admirably in very hard circumstances. My preferences, as you can imagine, would have all three in school full-time. But I believe my suggestions may help make the best of a difficult situation.”

  Anger stung Beau. He had managed to keep outsiders from intruding on his life since he struck out on his own. Ruth Fairfield was determined to give him advice whether he wanted it or not. Not that advice was always unwelcome— he had asked for advice more than once—but never from a stranger and certainly not from a woman. Even a woman as sensible and as pretty as this one was. “We can try it your way.”

  Dru giggled, and Guy seemed to grow two inches.

  “For two weeks. If things aren’t any better by then, I’ll decide what needs to be changed.”

  Ruth nodded, smiling, as if ready to join him for another conference in a fortnight.

  “On my own. I don’t appreciate interference in my family’s affairs, and I don’t believe Charlotte or Percy did either.”

  Ruth’s smile dimmed. “Of course, the bank president has to agree to Allan taking the job, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to do so.”

  We’ll see. Beau took the coffee Ruth poured for him. We’ll see.

  A month later, Allan was happily settled at the bank, covering nearly as much in his biweekly tutoring as he had while attending school full-time. He could apply for university next fall—Haydn would love to write a reference for him— but Ruth knew Beau was opposed to that. He didn’t have to say a word.

  Guy was happier than he ever had been in class. His hours at the farm, doing work he loved, made him appreciate the breaks for classes. He would never make a bank clerk or a reporter, but he had a good grounding in reading, writing, and arithmetic, as well as American history and geography, and a natural knack for leadership that emerged as he found more confidence in his growing body.

  The only Pratt child who still troubled Ruth was Dru. Beau was either blind to the physical changes in his niece or he hadn’t found a solution that didn’t offend his sensibilities.

  Ruth brought up the problem with the sewing circle again. “I still feel like I should make some clothes, maybe even some unmentionables, for Dru. You should see her.” At least the tears in her voice didn’t drip down her cheeks.

  “We see her on Sundays. Even the dress you made for her while she was living with you is getting small on her,” Birdie said.

  “I’ve been trying to think what I did when I was growing like that. I wore hand-me-downs from my sister and from Mama. But Dru…” Annie shrugged.

  “Dru doesn’t have any sisters, and all her mother’s clothes burned in the fire. She doesn’t have any family to give her things.” Ruth fingered the sheet she was making for Birdie’s growing group of girls. “You know I’m happy to make these, Birdie, but my mission is with the Pratts. I believe so now more than ever.”

  “Well, then,” Birdie said in a matter-of-fact voice new to her, “you should just make her the clothes and let God take care of the rest of it.”

  “Thank you for reminding me.” Ruth relaxed. “I’ll do just that. I’ll finish a dress for her this week. Maybe give it to her on Sunday. Mr. Blanton can’t complain too much in God’s house on the Lord’s Day.”

&nb
sp; Ruth didn’t have to wait for a trip to Finnegan’s Mercantile to start. She had purchased the ideal calico weeks ago, the soft yellows and greens making her think of Dru as soon as she spotted it. She had even marked the pattern lines on the fabric, but then had stopped, not convinced that she should proceed with the project, waiting for clear direction.

  That had happened after convincing Beau to let the boys switch positions and while watching Dru shoot up over the past four weeks. Now Ruth studied the pattern lines again. If she narrowed the seams and took out two darts in the front and back, it should fit. As for the hem, she had left it overlong until she could measure the correct length. Now that the girl had reached Ruth’s height and passed it, Ruth made the hemline an inch and a half lower than those for her own dresses.

  In fact, when Ruth finished making adjustments, she realized Dru’s measurements came close to her own. The girl could wear Ruth’s hand-me-downs, and she’d be happy to give her a few. Which would bother Beau more: hand-me-downs or specially made dresses?

  Since either choice would test Beau’s patience, Ruth decided to give Dru what would make a young girl the happiest. New fabric, a newer design, a few ribbons.

  Taking her scissors, she cut the fabric. Soon her needle was flying through the fabric while the conversation turned in other directions.

  Chapter 8

  In fact, Ruth finished the dress right before the Thursday tutoring session. But she didn’t want to create problems for the boys by sending the unwanted gift home with them, so she kept with her original plan of giving it to Beau on Sunday.

  When Dru arrived at school on Friday, Ruth almost regretted her decision. The girl’s dress dangled inches above her ankle and hugged her waist so tight that Ruth wondered how she could breathe. The pained expression on Dru’s face and her general disinterest made Ruth suspect the girl had a worse than usual case of the monthlies.

  When at last the class had a recess, Ruth kept Dru back. “Let me get you some willow-bark tea and you rest in here a spell. Unless you want to go outside?”

  The misery with which Dru shook her head convinced Ruth she had the truth of it. Dru stumbled as she got to her feet then immediately sat back down. “Miss Fairchild.”

  That single mortified cry told Ruth what had happened. “Don’t worry. I’ll get one of the older girls to take over the class while I take you to the parsonage. We’ll get you fixed up right away.”

  They headed out the door, Dru’s coat hiding her embarrassment, and they arrived at the house within minutes.

  Dru mumbled a few words that verified the nature of the problem, and Mama hugged her. “My dear child. I’ll start some bathwater and salts for you. A good bath always helps me feel better when I’m hurting.”

  “I don’t want to be a burden…” Dru started out in a good imitation of her uncle.

  “Don’t worry about that. This isn’t the first time a girl’s been caught unawares.”

  “I’ve got to get back to school.” Ruth took the coat from the girl, her heart hurting for the motherless child. “But before I leave, there’s something I want to give to you.” She ran to her room and took the dress from its knob.

  “But what am I going to wear?” Tears hovered behind Dru’s words.

  “We have some things,” Mama assured her. “And it’s early enough that I might be able to rinse this out and get it back to you before the end of the day.”

  Ruth set up the curtain around the bathtub in the back room so Papa would know to stay away.

  Mama led Dru into the room and smiled. “And besides, I think you might have another choice.”

  Ruth held the dress up to Dru. “I made this with you in mind. And it seems that God’s timing was perfect, that I would have this ready for you when you needed it the most.”

  Ruth didn’t miss Dru’s gasp of pleasure, nor the frown that followed it. “But Uncle Beau…”

  Mama gently helped Dru slip out of her dress, clucking over her like a sympathetic hen. “The good book says to let tomorrow take care of itself. God has helped you today. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

  When Dru didn’t come back to school that afternoon, Ruth hurried for home right after the final bell. Dru sat in the kitchen with Mama, looking a lot better than she had that morning. “I’m coming home with you. That way you can ride and not have to walk when you’re already sore.”

  “Uncle Beau might not like that.”

  “Your uncle has never had to walk two miles when his insides hurt. Or at least not in the same way. And Mama is sending some food home with you so you can rest.”

  Some twelve-year-olds had to cook and keep house. Others had to deal with maturity and the challenges it presented all alone, without another woman in the home. Not many had to do both at once. Ruth’s heart went out to her young student.

  Dru didn’t protest any further, allowing herself to be cosseted in blankets in the back of the wagon. Beau met them at the edge of the field where he and Guy were working. “You appear without warning, Ruth.” He jumped the simple fence they had posted to keep deer and other grazing animals from the growing plants.

  “Dru! What happened?”

  Beau had rarely spent such a sleepless night. After a few hours of forcing himself to stay still and not toss and turn, he went outside, pacing the perimeter of the cabin to keep an eye out for dangers he was more comfortable with than the ones he had encountered today.

  He didn’t know what to make of it all. Women’s troubles, Ruth explained with little more than a slight blush. A new dress against his explicit refusal. Food from the parsonage. The Fairfields seemed determined to help him whether he wanted it or not.

  But if the common lot of womenfolk was bad enough to send his niece away from school in the middle of the day, maybe he needed the help more than he knew.

  For sure, Ruth Fairfield had plenty of gumption, but she exasperated him in equal measure. She’d plowed into his life like someone convinced she knew what was best, like the people who had tried to split him and Charlotte up after their parents died.

  He’d seek out advice about Dru, although he couldn’t imagine asking another female about it. There had to be books that taught about such things, some kind of medical manual. In fact, he might shut off all contact from Calico, aside from Allan’s work. They’d stop the tutoring for sure, keep Dru home for a few days, until he could get their lives straightened out. Without the help of the interfering Miss Fairfield.

  “Beau, what about asking Me for My help?” The Lord whispered to Beau as the night turned to day, but Beau turned a deaf ear. It seemed to him like God would be on the pastor’s side.

  Beau didn’t share his plans with the family on Saturday. He allowed Dru to spend the day in bed and kept the boys away to accommodate her need for privacy. The problem was, he didn’t have any of the resources a lot of homesteaders started out with, including a basic medical book. He’d had no need for such a volume in his travels, and he didn’t know where to get one.

  No one said anything about the change of schedule, although Allan had protested when they didn’t go to church on Sunday. “Why, Uncle Beau? Dru is well enough to get up and about.”

  “It’s okay to spend a day at home every now and then. We’ll have our own worship service here, in the soddy.” He pulled the Bible he’d kept in his saddlebag onto his lap. “I thought we could share some of our favorite verses or stories. You know, the Bible says wherever two or more are gathered in His name, He’s there with them. That’s us today.”

  Allan flicked a glance at Beau. “I might as well start. I’ve always loved Bible stories. David and Goliath and the ark are as exciting as anything I’ve ever read by Homer or Shakespeare. When I think of David going after the giant with only five small stones, I get more courage the next time I set out hunting.” Beau had to answer Allan’s small grin with one of his own. He had seen fewer young men less at ease behind a rifle barrel, although Allan could hit a target straight and sure. Percy had done
one thing right. Shooting was even more necessary than reading for someone out on the western frontier, at least in Beau’s mind.

  Allan proceeded to tell the story with such imagination that Beau could almost smell the sweat, blood, and dust of the battlefield. After his start, everyone shared. Guy quoted John 3:16 and talked about the day he had asked Jesus to be his Savior. That reassured Beau’s mind, especially when the others shared their testimonies as well.

  “How about you, Uncle Beau?” Dru asked. “Are you a Christian?”

  “Yes.” Should he tell the long version or the short one? “I invited Jesus into my heart when I was just a little bit of a fella. I’m ashamed to say I drifted away.” Mad at God for sending one of His “ministers” to split up their family. “But there’s something about days on the open prairie, with only yourself and cattle for company, that turn a man’s thoughts to God.” More time than he had taken recently. He had to make spending time with God a priority, no matter how busy he was around the farm.

  Dru shared a story next. “I like to read about Dorcas. She helped the widows and orphans in her church, and then she died and Peter raised her back to life. Miss Fairfield’s friends are like that. I just hope one of them doesn’t die, because we don’t have any apostles around to bring anyone back to life.”

  Dorcas. Of all the stories in the Bible, of all the women in the Bible, why did Dru have to go and mention Dorcas?

  “Didn’t you invite Me to this meeting?” the Holy Spirit prodded Beau.

  Just because Dru mentioned Dorcas didn’t mean they were candidates for charity. No sir. Beau decided to break the news now. “You might as well know that you won’t be going back to school in Calico. You’ll either study at home or go to school in Langtry.”

  “No. If I can’t go to Calico, I don’t want to go at all.” Dru jumped up, whipped her cape and bonnet from the door peg, and ran out the door.