Effie

by Stevie MacFarlane

  Effie wore a satin dress the color of rich chocolate with short puffed sleeves. The material swept from the front to the back, creating a small bustle with a train. Embedded in her hair at the back of her head, a jeweled topaz comb did little to hold her hair in place, but added a bit of sparkle to the well-dressed young woman. The rest of her blonde curls cascaded down her back and over her shoulder, much like a glistening waterfall, thanks to Ophelia’s talents.

  Amelia looked lovely in a shimmering gray satin gown that matched her eyes and exposed enough of her bosom that Hugh was seen many times throughout the evening pulling her black lace shawl up on her shoulders. Around her neck was a black velvet ribbon with a cameo Hugh bought her in San Francisco.

  Grace wore the turquoise dress she’d been married in.

  “Do you think this looks all right?” she asked Effie. “I know Jonah has seen it, but no one else has, and it is my favorite.”

  “You look perfect,” Effie assured her as she looked over the other women. “Let’s go and introduce ourselves,” she suggested.

  “Allow me,” Sam offered, coming silently up behind her and taking her elbow.

  Nodding her consent, she let him draw her across the wooden floor.

  “Ladies, this is Miss Euphemia Lane and Mrs. Grace Blackthorn, from Massachusetts. Euphemia and Grace are good friends of Amelia’s. Effie, these ladies are commonly known as ‘the brides’ around here. This is Sarah, Lydia and Lucy. They hail from New York. This is Martha Jonas. Miss Jonas is a dressmaker from Philadelphia. Unless I miss my guess, she’ll soon be marrying our foreman, Ethan Jorgenson,” he said with a smile. “He’s that tall blond man coming toward us with two glasses of punch.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Lane, Mrs. Blackthorn,” Martha said, taking Effie’s hand.

  “Happy to make your acquaintance,” Grace added.

  “Just to set the record straight, I haven’t accepted Mr. Jorgenson’s proposal. I’m thinking about opening another dress shop in Seattle.”

  “She will,” Ethan said with assurance as he handed Martha her glass. “Miss Jonas is a might stubborn, but I’ll wear her down.”

  “Ethan, meet Miss Lane and Jonah’s wife, Grace,” Sam said.

  “A pleasure.” Taking Effie’s hand he gave it a firm shake that had her smiling and did the same with Grace who quickly stuck her throbbing hand behind her back.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jorgenson. I’m beginning to see a pattern here, Miss Jonas,” Effie continued, turning back to the pretty dark-haired woman. “Apparently the ‘take no prisoners’ attitude is prevalent in this section of the country and not limited to the Jordon man.”

  Martha laughed. “You’ve noticed that, have you? Perhaps as you are from the east, we should join forces and show them some women have a mind of their own,” she teased with a wink as Ethan scowled down at her.

  “I believe on that note, we should move on,” Sam suggested as he tugged at his collar.

  “Wait,” Martha said. “Are you going to be in Seattle long?”

  “Well, I’m not sure, I…”

  “Miss Lane will be making her home in Seattle,” Sam insisted. “Permanently.”

  “Oh how nice. I look forward to getting to know you better, and please call me Martha.”

  “And you must call me Effie, all my friends do,” she called over her shoulder as Sam pulled her away.

  Sensing trouble, Grace made her escape back to Jonah as Effie narrowed her eyes at being abandoned. Grace shrugged and smiled weakly.

  “What do you mean; you don’t know how long you’ll be here?” he demanded in a whisper.

  “Hello, I’m Euphemia Lane,” Effie said, offering her hand to a shy young woman in a peach dress and ignoring Sam completely.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Lane. I’m Clara Webster.”

  “Miss Webster, I’m wondering…“Effie sighed, tipping her head to one side. “Did they have any women’s organizations or groups where you came from?”

  “Why yes, they did. I myself was a member of the Ladies Aide Society as well as the Washingtonian Temperance Movement. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m wondering if an organization such as that, strictly for women you understand, would be of any use to the good women of Seattle.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Clara replied thoughtfully. “I think it’s an excellent suggestion. After all, there are a number of taverns in Seattle and where there’s drink, there are wives and children who may need support. I mean it stands to reason, doesn’t it?”

  “It certainly does,” Effie agreed, noticing the pretty brown-haired woman now had a spark in her dark eyes. “Perhaps you could speak to the other brides and see if they would be interested in forming such an organization. Married or not, I feel women have a responsibility, no an obligation, to offer support and assistance to those who may be suffering from the effects of spirits.”

  “Oh, Miss Lane, I couldn’t agree more. I will certainly speak to the others. In fact, I’m quite ashamed I didn’t think of it myself. The last few weeks have been somewhat trying.”

  “I understand completely, Clara, may I call you Clara?”

  “Certainly,” she replied, squeezing Effie’s hand.

  “Good and you must call me Effie. As I was saying, I understand your difficulties. I’ve only been here a short time and I can see there is need for reform. Why, the men here are so old-fashioned, they seem to think women should have no say at all.”

  “Effie,” Sam warned.

  “I’ll be along in a moment, Samuel,” Effie said, smiling at him over her shoulder. “Why don’t you run along and have some punch while I speak with the rest of these ladies.”

  “Not on your life, sweetheart,” he said as pleasantly as possible considering his teeth were gritted. “Ladies, you’ll have to excuse us. I need to have a few words with Miss Lane, but I’ll make sure you all get the chance to meet her later in the evening. For now, why isn’t anyone dancing?”

  Putting an arm around her waist he propelled her across the barn. They ended up at a long table nearly groaning with the weight of the huge quantities of food placed on it. A man was hurrying around arranging dishes and setting out utensils.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?” Sam called out.

  “In ten minutes,” the big man replied with a grin. “Molly will be here in ten minutes. Look at the cake she made,” he said nearly bursting with pride as he pointed to a three tier wedding cake. “All by herself too.”

  “You must be, Mr. McGuire,” Effie said extending her hand. “I’m Euphemia Lane. I wish you and your bride all the best.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lane. I’m right proud of my Molly and if that cake tastes half as good as it looks, I’ll be prouder still. Well, I best go and get ready. There’s the preacher now.”

  Effie clapped her hands in delight.

  “Oh good, I love weddings,” she grinned, slipping her arm through Sam’s as Grace and Jonah joined them on the sidelines.

  “Then why are you being so damn stubborn about your own?” Sam hissed, watching the preacher take his place in the middle of the room as the crowd quieted.

  “I don’t understand you, Sam. These women are lovely,” she whispered, sweeping her hand to indicate the brides standing in a cluster on the other side of the barn. “Apparently, you’re very picky if none of them would do.” Giving an arrogant sniff she tilted her head and stared up into his eyes.

  “How picky could I be if I chose a gun-toting miscreant like you,” he whispered into her ear.

  Rolling her eyes she elbowed him in the stomach just as Amelia and Hugh appeared on her other side.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Amelia whispered. “Have you met Molly?”

  Effie shook her head no as Sam tried to catch his breath.

  “You’ll love her, she’s quite a character.”

  “That’s one word for it,” Sam snapped.

  “Hush, there’s Mr. McGuire now,” Effie m
urmured as Angus entered the barn and took his place beside the preacher. The band began to play the wedding march. Martha entered first. She was charming in her rose dress, trimmed with cream lace. In her arms she carried several pink roses as she made her way up the makeshift aisle.

  Molly paused at the doorway as though debating whether she wanted to go on and then suddenly smiled brilliantly as she walked to her groom who didn’t take his eyes off her. Her veil was made of fine Irish lace. Across her chest she wore the McGuire tartan, pinned to her shoulder by a brooch bearing her husband’s crest. The emerald green gown brought out the highlights in her red hair. All in all, she was striking.

  The ceremony was actually quite short with the usual love, honor and obey, but once the ring was slipped on her finger, the kiss was anything but. Angus kissed her for a very long time, dipping her back in his arms as the men whooped and hollered and the ladies blushed.

  As soon as he stood her back on her feet, the dazed Molly Muldoon McGuire was surrounded by women who hugged her and men who wanted to kiss the bride. Thankfully the band began to play and Angus swept her onto the dance floor for a waltz. Soon they were joined by other couples, including Amelia and Hugh, Tempest and Duncan and Grace and Jonah.

  “Would you care to dance, Euphemia?”

  “You’re asking? How unusual,” Effie replied as he scowled and tugged her into his arms, spinning her around the floor.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were spoiling for a fight,” Sam drawled. “Are you hungry? Perhaps some food would sweeten your mood.”

  Nodding she took his hand and led him from the floor. Others were already in line, drawn to the table by the wonderful smells emanating from it. Sam held the plates and Effie piled them high with beef, pork, potatoes, deviled eggs, pickles and anything else she could fit on them.

  Looking around, Sam spotted a table near the back of the barn and led the way. Soon they were devouring the succulent meal.

  “Oh my goodness, this is delicious. He’s even better than your mother’s chef,” Effie sighed, closing her eyes as she savored a piece of tender roast beef.

  “I know. Mother tried to take him away from the men at one time.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was one of the few times my father put his foot down,” Sam said, a smile lighting his eyes. “She was so angry she packed up and went to France for six months. When she returned she brought Andre with her, but it was a very peaceful six months.”

  “Your father must have been very lenient with her,” Effie remarked, popping a small roasted potato into her mouth.

  “Lenient is putting it mildly. The man would do most anything to keep her from getting upset. When she cried, he caved each and every time, giving her nearly anything she wanted, except Angus of course. The men had to eat, after all.”

  “What changed his attitude? He seems quite committed to keeping your mother in check.”

  “She was leaving him,” Sam replied, softly.

  “Why? She obviously adores him.” Watching Sam, she saw the sadness in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly she may have imagined it.

  “My mother was convinced my father no longer loved her. He thought he was showing her what she meant to him by giving her everything she wanted. No, I don’t think wanted is the right word, everything she demanded.

  “Hugh and I tried to talk to him many times about taking her in hand. She made everyone in the vicinity miserable with her tantrums and fiery temper, but he defended her. She was just high strung, he’d say. A bit temperamental, and spirited,” Sam snorted.

  “He couldn’t see she was very unhappy and out of control. My father was a man completely blinded by his love for a woman who was begging in her own way for his attention.”

  “Well, she obviously has it now,” Effie said, rolling her eyes.

  Sam set his fork down and pulled Effie around.

  “Look at them,” he insisted. “I mean it, look at them!” he repeated when she raised her eyebrows in surprise at his tone.

  Effie looked. She saw a large, handsome older man, entranced with his beautiful wife. He was whispering something in her ear as they swirled around the floor and Tempest was blushing. She laughed as she slapped his shoulder with her fan and then pulled his head down for a stolen kiss. It was sweet and she tried to remember if she’d ever seen her father kiss her mother.

  “What’s your point, Samuel? Are you saying they are happy now because he spanks her?” she hissed, her face turning a becoming shade of pink.

  “No, it’s not because he spanks her, or disciplines her in any way, but because he cares enough to do so. Do you understand?” he asked gravely.

  “No, I’m sorry to say I don’t. A man in love shouldn’t have to resort to that sort of thing,” she asserted.

  “Many don’t,” Sam replied. “See that couple right there?” he asked, pointing to a small blonde woman who was dancing with a man wearing spectacles.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s Alice and Clarence Henderson. Clarence is the man who handed Hugh’s letters out to other men, by the way, but that is neither here nor there at this juncture. The point I’m trying to make is this. Alice is a sweet, gentle woman and Clarence is a kind, soft spoken man. I’d be shocked if he ever had to raise his voice to her. They are two peas in a pod, so to speak and will likely be content with each other for the rest of their days.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” she asked, her meal forgotten.

  “Nothing is wrong with that,” Sam sighed in frustration. “It’s perfectly fine for them, but not for us, Effie, never for us.”

  “Oh, I don’t understand any of this,” she sassed, getting to her feet.

  “Sit down, Euphemia. I’m not finished,” he ordered.

  Warily she watched him and resumed her seat, folding her hands in her lap.

  “Thank you. As I was saying, or trying to say, not all relationships are like that. Some people fall in love despite the odds. They are not two peas in a pod; they are peas and… asparagus.”

  Effie giggled. “That’s quite a theory.”

  “Will you shut up for once and listen to me?” he scolded.

  “Sorry.”

  “They go together, but they are very, very different. Marriage is not easy for them; they have to work at it. They disagree, argue and, in the case of my parents, can have a destructive relationship, but still they love one another. Passion is part of their make-up, great consuming passion keeps them together and in bed they are explosive, but the rest of the time it’s a constant battle for supremacy. Being right, the boss, or the one in charge becomes highly important. Oh they still burn up the sheets in the dark, but in the light of day they can hardly say a civil word to each other.

  “Everyone suffers, the children, especially,” he trailed off.

  “Like you and Hugh?” she asked gently.

  “Yes, like Hugh and I.”

  “I’m so sorry for you both, Sam, but look at them now. They must have worked things out as they appear incredibly happy.”

  “They did, but not for many years. A great deal of their time together was wasted in senseless arguments and downright battles.”

  “So what changed?”

  “You’re friend, Amelia,” Sam said with a crooked smile.

  “Amelia? How could she have anything to do with this?” Effie gasped. “She has only been here a few weeks.”

  “That’s true, but almost as soon as she got here things changed. You see my father began to see he’d given my mother much too much freedom to behave any way she chose. Hugh was not going to do that with Amelia. He’d seen first-hand what happened to our parents and despite the passion he felt for his wife, he was going to keep a firm grip on the reins. In other words, he loved her enough to take her to task when she acted foolishly. He valued their marriage enough to put their union ahead of all else.”

  “So because Hugh spanked Amelia and she still loved him, Duncan decided to spank Tempest?” she a
sked in shock.

  “Leave it to you to reduce things to the lowest common denominator,” Sam sighed, running a hand through his thick dark hair. “Let me put this in words even a nitwit can understand,” he said scathingly. “When my mother submitted to my father in this way, she gave him a precious gift, his manhood. In return, he restored her femininity. It reestablished their respect for each other. She trusts him to be what he is, the head of the household and he loves her even more for the feisty woman she is. He just puts limits on her behavior. She can have her temper tantrums if she so chooses, but she knows he will never again let it go too far and damage their relationship. It gives her the freedom to be who she is, without hurting anyone. Do you understand?”

  “Sam, I don’t think your masculinity is in doubt,” she scoffed. “You seemed pretty puffed up with yourself to me.”

  “Oh, come on,” he grunted, taking her hand and yanking her up. “Let’s have a dance. Trying to get something through your thick head is exhausting. For a smart woman, you certainly can be obtuse. Here’s the only thing you need to remember from this entire conversation,” he informed her as he spun her onto the floor. “When we are married, you will be compliant and well behaved, or I’ll make sure you are.”

  “Sam, just because I marry you, doesn’t mean you win,” she said seriously as she looked up at his firm jaw.

  “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Nine

  Effie, Amelia and Grace were talking to Suzanna Jefferies and Charlotte Carlyle when it was announced that Molly and Angus were going to cut the cake. Both brides were from the south, Suzanna from Georgia and Charlotte from Mississippi, but that was where their similarities ended.

  Charlotte was a raven haired, blue-eyed beauty with a reserved nature, while Suzanna appeared to be quite outspoken. With her blonde hair and dark brown eyes, she was lovely, but her personality left a lot to be desired. Her condescending tone of voice was mildly offensive to the three young ladies from Massachusetts. Repeatedly she referenced the war of ‘Northern aggression’ as the reason she found herself in her current situation.