by Laura Abbot
After a time, they wound down the hilarity and told him he was doing a passable job. He glared at them. “Can’t make a silk purse out of this sow’s ear,” he said.
They all settled around the table for the hot cider that had been simmering on the stove. “Really, Seth,” Lily commented, “you were doing well.”
“And we have plenty of time in the next few days to practice,” Sophie assured him.
“Son, the ladies will expect partners at the ball.”
“Jolly for them. I’m sure others will more than fill the bill.”
Sophie got that impish glint in her eye that he knew meant trouble. “You surely wouldn’t disappoint a lady.”
“Not just any lady,” his brother added with an amused smirk.
“One lady,” his sister-in-law said, her voice rising hopefully. “One particular lady.”
“I will not dance with that Widow Spencer. No.” He shook his head vigorously.
“Of course you won’t,” Lily agreed.
“What in tarnation are you talking about, then?” He looked accusingly at his family so clearly aligned against him.
Caleb stepped in. “I love you, brother, but sometimes you’re as brainless as a tumbleweed. You are very fond of this lady.”
“We mean Rose,” Sophie said, reaching for his hand. “Surely you will not disappoint her on this glorious occasion.”
Disappoint Rose? Never. But dance? “She wouldn’t want to dance with me.”
“Why ever not? Just like you, my sister hasn’t had a wealth of experience with balls. It would mean so much to me if you would help make this one special for her.”
Lily knew he couldn’t refuse her, not when she’d put it in the form of a favor. He scanned their faces. “You won’t laugh?”
With mock seriousness, they all held up their right hands as if giving testimony. “We promise.”
“We’ll see,” he said shoving back his chair and stomping out into the night. Standing in the crisp autumn air amid the pleasant smell of wood smoke, he studied the stars. Who had ordained that human beings should dance? Why, he’d make a fool of himself. Then he thought about Rose, ever so patient, her love for Alf so enduring. She was the finest of women, but no flibbertigibbet. She probably wouldn’t even want to dance.
Laughter from within taunted him. He was making excuses. He was thinking only of his own discomfort and humiliation. The longer he stood there, though, the more appealing the idea of dancing with Rose became. He could picture her eyes shining with delight, eyes he hoped would be only for him.
He raked a hand through his hair. Dreamer. What was happening to him? Did Rose regard him as someone special? Or as one who had failed her when Alf was abducted. They were friends, of course, but was his family right? Was there more? He had interpreted her kindness as simply that—kindness. But could it signal deeper feelings? Foolishly, he found himself grinning. With Rose as his dance partner, maybe he would no longer be a clumsy Goliath.
* * *
A week later, Bess, Rose and Alf drove out to visit Lily and Mattie. They had invited Aunt Lavinia, but she was unable to go, she said, because of some pressing business. Business? Here in Cottonwood Falls? Surely all of her financial matters were being handled in St. Louis. With Lavinia, though, there was no accounting for her actions. One day she’d looked down her nose at Alf and now they were nearly inseparable.
“Isn’t this a beautiful day?” Bess said as they rode along. “The foliage is stunning. Not quite New England, but lovely in its own way.”
“Lovely.” Rose patted the valise at her feet. “Lily is quite a seamstress. She will transform our dresses into ball gowns. Growing up, I only attempted Pa’s shirts, but she worked wonders with our frocks.”
“My dress needs to remain somewhat plain, as befits a widow.”
“Nonsense. Your loss was many years ago. It’s time you blossomed again.” Rose slanted her eyes to watch Bess’s expression.
“The girl in me wants to do just that, but I’m past my prime.”
“Papa doesn’t seem to think so,” Rose said with an air of affected innocence.
Bess nearly dropped the reins. “I declare, Rose, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rose was relentless. “Then why are you blushing?” Only with difficulty did she stifle her giggles. “Bess, Lily and I are so fond of you and have already come to regard you as one of the family. We see the way Papa looks at you. Why, his eyes follow you whenever you’re in the same room. I don’t know about your feelings, but if you and Papa were ever to come to an agreement, Lily and I would not only approve, we would welcome you with our whole hearts.”
Bess bowed her head. “You honor me. ’Tis true, I am quite fond of Ezra, and I believe he is of me. But no words have passed between us concerning anything other than friendship.”
“But if he spoke of deeper feelings...?”
Bess turned to Rose, with the loveliest of smiles and said, “I would be blessed.”
Rose nodded in satisfaction. “Good.”
Alf had been dozing alongside her, but stirred now. “Are we there yet?”
“Not quite, dear boy. Soon.”
That afternoon while the children played in the garden, Lily worked her magic on the gowns, adding lace to the sleeves of one, winding gold braid through the neckline of another and performing such alterations as were necessary. Rose’s gown was a royal-blue taffeta that made her eyes come alive, while Bess’s was a lilac shade complementing her silver hair.
“All right, then,” Lily said, standing up. “I’ve done all the hemming that’s needed. It’s time for a fashion show worthy of Godey’s Lady’s Book. Go now and try them on.”
The two retired to the bedroom and ultimately returned arrayed in their finery. Lily adjusted the parlor mirror so they could catch their reflections.
Bess clapped her hands delightedly. “I never imagined the dress that’s been buried in my trunk for months could look like this.” She twirled around and hugged Lily. “Thank you, thank you.”
Then it was Rose’s turn. In the mirror she saw a beautiful ball gown that failed to transform her plain normal self. How Rose wished she could glow with pleasure as Bess had done.
“What’s the matter?” Lily stood beside her studying their reflection.
“The dress is fine. Really lovely. But—” Rose bit her lip “—it’s not me. I’m most comfortable in gingham.”
Bess moved to Rose’s other side. “Beauty is in the mind, dear. If you tell yourself you’re not pretty, it will show.” She quirked her head to study Rose. “I have an idea. Lily, fetch me some combs.”
The next thing Rose knew, Lily had led her into the bedroom and plopped her down at the dressing table and Bess was arranging her hair on top of her head in a coil. Lily gave her a pair of pearl earrings and then rearranged the neckline to show off her shoulders. “Now then,” her sister said, “come back into the living room.”
Reluctantly, she shuffled into the next room where Bess turned her to face the mirror once more. “See? You’re a swan, not an ugly duckling. Believe it.”
Rose studied her transformation. With the coiffure of a high society lady, she looked like a stranger. Could she really be the woman reflected in the mirror?
The children burst into the room, and Alf stopped in his tracks “Rose? I never seed you like that.” His eyes shone with wonder. “You look like a fairy princess.”
“Fairy princess,” Mattie echoed, dancing up and down.
Rose slowly turned. “Do you really think so?”
“We do, we do,” the children shouted.
“And so do we.” Seth and Caleb stood in the door, grinning in brotherly agreement.
Alf ran to Seth. “Sett. You see her? She’s boo-ti-ful.”
Rose l
onged for a hiding place, but she had no recourse other than to bear herself with dignity in the face of such unaccustomed compliments. “Lily and Bess have undoubtedly worked an improvement. But princess? I think not.”
Seth picked Alf up in his arms. “What do you say, boy? I say princess.”
Alf nodded vigorously. “Sett, my Rose is a princess.”
Rose forced a smile and made herself look straight at Seth. “There’s no accounting for some fellows.”
Caleb stepped forward. “If you want an objective outsider’s opinion, here’s what I say.” He draped his arm around his brother. “It’s unanimous. A princess.”
When Seth winked at her, she felt light-headed. “See, we told you so.”
Caleb pounced. “She’ll make quite a suitable dance partner at the ball, don’t you think, Seth?”
It was Seth’s turn to blush and he jabbed an elbow into Caleb’s side. “We’ll see,” he said. “I imagine Miss Rose will have a full dance card.”
Lily came to the rescue. “Shoo, the lot of you. We ladies have to change and pack away the gowns.”
In the bedroom, Rose crumpled onto the bed. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”
“That’s because you’ve never dressed so beautifully,” Bess said. “And you lit up when Seth came into the room.”
“Certainly not!”
Both Lily and Bess shrugged, as smug as if they’d uncovered a hidden gem. “It seems it’s one thing for you to comment on a man in my life,” Bess said, “and quite another for us to turn the tables on you.”
Rose jerked to her feet and began tearing the combs out of her hair. “Please stop. Lily knows how I feel, but I’ll remind her again and say this also to you. I once thought I had a man in my life who would love and cherish me. I was very wrong. I will not go down that path again. Never.” And before they could say anything more, she pulled the dress over her head, unable to see her friend and her sister shake their heads with the folly of it all.
Chapter Fourteen
Although she had once again started attending church services, Rose knew she still needed to see Pastor Dooley and set things right with her soul. The Sunday before the Courthouse Ball she prevailed upon her father to take Alf home. She loitered, waiting for the minister to finish greeting the other churchgoers. She knew she would not be light of spirit until she had confessed to doubting God. Her despair following Alf’s abduction had rendered her self-absorbed and faithless. And yet...a miracle had occurred, but one with sad consequences for others. How could she exult when a woman lay dead at the hands of an abusive drunk?
Happily, through the efforts of the entire family, Alf seemed to be emerging from the trauma he’d experienced. Although at times he withdrew, by and large he was much more nearly his old self. His nightmares were infrequent now, and he would allow Rose to cuddle him and soothe him back to sleep. Rose knew, though, that there would always be a deep place in his soul where memories of evil could torment. Her job was to see that pleasant times crowded out such thoughts.
Finally Pastor Dooley saw her waiting and with a gesture invited her into the church, where they settled into a back pew. As if sensing her discomfort, he said, “Please be at ease.
“I have sinned.” Rose expected the minister to flinch in shock, but he just kept looking at her with compassion. Then she poured out her confession. Finally, with a mournful sigh, she came to the end of her story. “How can I exult in Alf’s return when his mother lies dead? As you’ve just heard, I’ve judged and I’ve doubted. Where was my God in all of this?”
“You are not the first, nor will you be the last to judge or doubt God, Rose. It is my belief that such dark moments test us and, with God’s grace, ultimately bring us to a place of healing and forgiveness.” He nodded toward the altar. “Consider that on the cross Jesus himself asked the Father why he had been forsaken.”
Rose eased back in the pew. “What do I do to obtain forgiveness? To atone for my lapse of faith?”
“You’ve already confessed your anger and questioning of God’s plan. Now, child, let me lay my hands upon you and commend you to God’s grace.”
The pastor leaned forward to place his hands on her head. Warmth and strength emanated from his touch and, as he prayed over her, she felt a peace in both body and soul. “Forgive and restore Your servant Rose to soundness of mind, bodily health and wellness of soul that she may go forth to love and serve others in Your blessed name.”
The two then sat in companionable silence while Rose took deep, cleansing breaths. “You are a fine woman, Rose, who has much love to give. Alf has not been put in your care by accident.”
“About Alf. I should very much like for him to be baptized. Could you do that?”
“It would be a privilege. However, your father told me you plan to adopt the boy.”
“Yes, I’ve retained Lawyer Yarnell to act on my behalf with the court.”
“When might you have a hearing?”
“Soon, I believe. Mr. Yarnell thinks it may be one of the first cases to be heard in the new courthouse.”
“In that event, I propose we schedule the baptism for a time after the hearing, so that Alf’s name will be both ecclesiastically and legally recorded.” He stood and held out his hand to assist Rose to her feet. “I shall be praying for a satisfactory resolution concerning the court hearing. Meanwhile, if I can assist you in any pastoral concerns, my door is always open.”
Rose clasped his hand and struggled for the words to express her gratitude. “I am most grateful for your counsel and your prayers. Indeed, I shall face this day and those that follow with a more open and faith-filled heart, thanks to you.”
All the way home, Rose felt as if her stress, like a colorful balloon, had soared into the sky. She appreciated the way Pastor Dooley had assured her that her flaws were not uncommon and, more importantly, had been forgiven. For whatever reasons, God had restored Alf to her and she would love him always. As she passed Bertha and Chauncey Britten’s home, her reverie was shattered by Bertha’s shrill voice. “Rose, can it possibly be true?”
With a groan, she stopped in her tracks and turned to face Bertha, who sat in a wicker chair on her front porch. Rose vowed not to take one step toward the woman. She needn’t have worried, Bertha levered herself out of her chair and came to the edge of her porch. “Well, is it true?”
“Bertha, to what, may I ask, are you referring?”
“My dear Rose, it’s all over town that you are actually planning to adopt that boy. You, an unmarried person!”
Rose sighed. Bertha was making her out to be some sort of scarlet woman. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but, yes, I am petitioning the court to adopt Alf.”
Bertha folded her arms across her ample bosom and shook her head. Rose was too far away to hear the tsk-tsk she imagined the woman was verbalizing. “The nerve,” Bertha finally said. “That boy needs a good home with both a father and a mother.”
And just where would you propose I get a father? “You are entitled to your opinion, Bertha, but now I must be on my way. Good day.”
Rose made herself stroll normally when all she wanted to do was put distance between herself and that sanctimonious woman. The walk, however, gave her time to think, and by the time she reached home, she had calmed down. Bertha’s behavior was disappointing but human. Pastor Dooley’s message was to love and serve others. That wasn’t always easy, she realized. The Berthas of the world tried souls, but that didn’t mean such folks should be deprived of love. If God could love Bertha, Rose could at least tolerate her.
* * *
Excitement concerning the completion of the new Chase County Courthouse reached a peak on Friday, October 17, the day of the Courthouse Ball. Wagons and buggies full of folks from distant parts of the county crowded the streets and that didn’t take into account the many w
ho arrived on horseback. Bess was bustling about attending to last minute details of the celebration, and Rose had outdone herself preparing fried chicken, mounds of potato salad and three apple pies. Finally it was time to bathe and dress. When Rose emerged from the bedroom in her blue dress with her red-gold hair heaped high on her head, Alf called to Ezra, “Look, Papa, it’s the princess!”
Ezra came out of the kitchen, then stopped in the parlor doorway. Grinning, he made a show of checking his glasses. “Could this possibly be our Rose, Alf? Look at her. Why, she’s not just a princess, she’s a beauty.”
Although she didn’t believe a word, she basked in the approval that made her feel somewhat more confident in her femininity. “Are we ready, then?” Papa said, giving her his arm.
The gray limestone courthouse gleamed in the rays of the setting sun. The edifice literally took Rose’s breath away—it looked exactly like a French Renaissance castle, something she’d seen before only in an etching. “Remember this day,” Ezra said. “Something grand and unexpected has happened here. This building will last far into the future.” He, too, seemed awed by the scope of the architectural achievement.
Entering the courthouse, they stopped in amazement. A wooden spiral staircase mounted three stories. Upon closer examination, Rose noticed it had no center support. A massive black walnut balustrade, hand-cut, so they’d been told, from trees growing beside the Cottonwood River was beautiful beyond description. The building was a beehive of activity with folks darting from room to room, exclaiming excitedly about the architectural features—the clock tower, the jail and living quarters for the sheriff and his family and the recessed oval window overlooking Broadway. Rose could hardly take it all in.
Aunt Lavinia approached, jewels sparkling from her heavy, ornate necklace. Her full-skirted gold brocade dress was a seamstress’s vision. “Think of it, my dears. Having such a courthouse in this town defies the imagination. No matter how precise my powers of description, no one in St. Louis will believe such a European-inspired structure can exist on the wilds of the prairie. Of course, we’d already seen the exterior, but coming inside? I am stunned into speechlessness.”