Bright Morning Star

by J. R. Biery

  “Warm, how did you?”

  “The well that you showed me, under the warming plate. We are finished cooking for now, so I used the hot water. Look how much cleaner the dishes are. Darling, isn’t it wonderful. So civilized,” she gushed and Henry swirled his bride around in the tiny kitchen.

  “You, my darling, are too easily pleased. Go ahead, tell me what your plans are for today so I can get back to work.”

  Claire took a pad of paper and a pencil and quickly drew a grid. “What do you think? The clothing department on the right or left.”

  He stared at his pensive bride, noticed the curls were already escaping along her neck. This time he didn’t resist temptation, but bent to kiss her there. His reward was to feel her vibrate under his lips. Smiling, he slipped his arm around her waist, “I liked the way you described it to Ida, grocery shop on the left, haberdashery on the right.”

  Claire leaned back to escape his roaming hands. “I love the way you say haberdashery,” she said with a giggle as he repeated the word before kissing her.

  For an instant Claire felt dizzily drunk. This time when the bell rang, Henry swore.

  “You’re right, darling. We’ll have to put a stop to that or we won’t be able to run the store,” she said.

  “Leave it to me,” he said.

  <><><>

  Today seemed worse than yesterday. Claire had finished all the dishes and they had barely made headway in clearing the front right corner merchandise before customers began to arrive. When an amazingly tall couple entered, they began their usual pattern of waiting on them when the woman said in a beautiful Swedish accent.

  “No darling, I’d like this charming, handsome man to serve me. You can take care of Johnson’s list.”

  Claire stared at Henry. He had discarded his coat again in the warm room and wore his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbow. Claire had just been admiring the way her tanned husband looked with the neck of his shirt unbuttoned and his tie keeping company with the suit coat. She flared red as she saw the beautiful blonde look at him with the same interest.

  The tall giant beside her laughed and Claire had the good grace to smile and curtsy, turning her head to look back at them as she took the miner’s shopping list.

  She ground the pound of coffee for the miner as she heard his wife’s silvery laughter. “Don’t mind, Helga. She likes to flirt, is all. Believe me, she don’t need no other man.”

  Claire’s face turned bright red as she stared up at the tall man, his meaning evident from where he held his hand. His booming laughter made Helga stop and walk back to the other couple. Henry seized the opportunity to grab his tie and coat. By the time he had walked back to the grocery counter, he was neatly covered and proper looking.

  This time, when he sent Claire with Helga, he filled the rest of Johnson’s order without objection.

  Claire was surprised to find she liked the big blonde. When she learned that Helga had come to try on the dress Lynne was sewing for her, she became even more excited. By the time the miner returned carrying a large tote of goods, the two women had become friends.

  “I’ll have to scold Lynne for not telling me she was making clothes. I have some great ideas for the latest fashions and maybe we can collaborate.”

  “I would love that, design one for me. I love the detail on your dress, but not the color. You are too pretty I think for such a plain dress.”

  Claire beamed, “Well, we only arrived in town yesterday. Taking over the store for the Vandemeres was sudden. Lynne asked us to help her friends, Ida and Henrique.”

  Helga motioned to Johnson. “I will go up, you want to come?”

  He nodded, only setting down the tote when Henry offered to take it.

  <><><>

  Henry rolled his eyes as the couple disappeared inside the Vandemere’s room.

  Claire raised a hand to smother a laugh. “What a woman,” she whispered.

  Henry shook his head. “And I never thought there could be a woman more endowed than Bonnie.”

  Without thinking Claire reached out to pinch his waist. It was what she and the girls always did to each other when one would irritate the other. Henry yelped in surprise.

  “I’m shocked at you. A gentleman never notices that sort of thing.”

  Henry laughed, but he didn’t reach for her waist to pinch. “Maybe, but a man always does.”

  “Well, it’s not what a new husband should be noticing.”

  She had that delightful, dizzy sensation as she looked down to be sure she hadn’t imagined his hands on her breasts. She knew she was lucky he stood between her and the window to the world.

  “It is the first thing a new husband notices, believe me, when his mind is on nothing else.”

  To escape the torture of his hands Claire pressed flat against his chest as he held, then kissed her.

  <><><>

  It was nearly a month later before the store was completely rearranged. Claire knew she would still be finding things to change if they stayed all year. The last of Henry’s goods from Boston were now carefully shelved or displayed. In the window were three dress forms – all that Ida had in stock – each wearing a recent Boston gown. The first week, Claire had sent word to Lynne, along with an order for a bustled gown for Helga and a request for a new one for herself. Both arrived the next week with Shorty and Bane as messengers. The strange men teased each of the couple, but by now, Claire took it in stride.

  Western folk seemed far less reserved. At first she had been insulted or offended whenever a stranger made a personal remark. Now she realized that most were just trying to be friendly. It was their way of getting acquainted quicker to move on to meaningful conversations when they saw so very few people.

  When the-would-be miners from the wagon train finally reached town, Claire was delighted to learn that she and Henry were not the only newlyweds. George King had married Faye Brewer, the cousin he had asked her about so many months ago at the dance. Cobb and Gerald were still single. The men were polite and congratulated Henry and her on their marriage as they shopped for new denims to wear to the mine fields.

  Claire waited on the cousins. After congratulating Faye, she learned James Temple had ‘paired up’ with Dorothy Brewer. It was an expression Claire didn’t like. It meant the same in the west as it did in the east and she told Dorothy she was a fool not to demand the man marry her. Dorothy, surprised Claire when she spoke behind her, “Maybe I’m the one who won’t accept him.”

  Claire had been just as blunt. “Well, when you get in the family way, any husband is better than none.”

  The girl had left angry, but Claire could see she was considering her options again. Leray Raglon came through the door, even though Claire could see his mother going into the Morrison’s store across the street. “Well, looks like I was right about you two,” Leray said.

  His comments were offensive, but Claire was prepared to ignore them. Henry looked ready to fight the man. The other men defended her honor as well and Leray backed down and left.

  Now each day, the Vandemerees came down to help in the store. Ida had taken her advice. It was difficult, but she had gradually reduced Henrique’s dose to once a night. Claire had never known the little man before. With his bald head and glasses, he did not look like a husband the tall Dutch woman would have chosen. She and Henry had moved the guns to the far right corner, far away from the kitchen and into an area with no direct access. Their store had not been burglarized, but the Morrison’s had been, twice. Besides all that store’s money, the thieves had taken guns and ammunition.

  Ida told them she always made bank deposits at the end of the day. Only a fool left the money where thieves could get it. Henry and Claire went to the bank first thing the next morning and deposited almost all of their foolish money.

  Now Henrique sat behind the gun counter to dispense ammunition and demonstrate the guns. They had a special wheelchair for him and once Henry carried him down and put him in it, he
did not leave it. The broken leg was elevated, the broken arm braced by a folding chair arm.

  Ida took over the groceries and seemed to enjoy sitting at the front of the store, chatting with the customers. Occasionally, her Henry would yell and she would bustle over to him. Then Claire would work in the grocery section. Most of the time she preferred to work in the other sections, especially when one of the ladies would come in and she would take care of their fashion needs. Henry kept their funds from the sale of their merchandise separate from those of the general store. To date, the sales had been fairly evenly divided. When Henry complained that they would soon be out of merchandise, then their profits would be lower, Claire tried to come up with a solution.

  From the first night, Claire had turned over the receipts to Ida to tally and record in her books. Claire kept a running tally of all supplies though, and as things began to dwindle, she would inform Ida and the woman would write orders to their suppliers. When Claire asked, the woman shared all the information with the young girl but looked dubious. Ida had a good head for figures and it was clear she was the one who had wanted the store. She still did not think a pretty little one like Claire could do the job.

  Claire was surprised that the couple had no complaints about the way they conducted the business or by any of the changes they had made. Claire had organized the store into departments and kept both window displays up to date. There were always items of produce that would not survive the day. She used these to cook their meals, usually soup or oven roasted meals that could finish in the fancy oven while she worked.

  Ida liked to bake. Now she was down, the smell of fresh bread, or if she came down early enough, hot doughnuts filled the air. Claire talked her into teaching her how to bake and to make the doughnuts in the oven. Soon she spent the early time on coming down each morning in baking the bread she had stirred up the night before. Customers loved buying the fresh bread and after she begged Ida, the fresh doughnuts.

  Claire told her they should add cakes and pies too, since they sold so well.

  “You bake all you want, my old feet, don’t need the money so much,” Ida said.

  Claire did, then told Henry her new idea. “I think fresh bread every day, but maybe Cake only on Monday, Pie Tuesday, Doughnuts on Wednesday…”

  “Strudel Wednesday, Crumcake Thursday, and Poffertjes Friday, you say Fritters?” she looked at the startled girl. Doughnuts Saturday, draw an even bigger crowd.”

  Claire laughed. “You think it’s a good idea?”

  “Ja, people come more that follow their stomachs, not just to see the prettiest blue-eyes out west. “Put up a sign, say -- if it ain’t Dutch, it ain’t much. Henry, you paint the sign.”

  The mousy little man in the back made a squeak. “What, what must I do now?”

  Henry stopped and kissed his pretty wife. Claire wondered how much else Ida heard or saw from her high stool and blushed. Henry was driving her mad. All day he was stealing kisses or pinching her when she bent over, but at night, he went to sleep. Only on Saturday night, she blushed at the thought. But today was only Wednesday.

  She saw the sparks in his eyes and knew he was having the same thoughts as she was. For a minute she wondered, Ida had said the prettiest blue eyes out west and Claire had taken it as a compliment for herself. But no man had bluer, more teasing eyes than Henry Lambton. And today, those eyes were tormenting her.

  <><><>

  The doorbell rang and Claire stepped away from him.

  Helga snapped at her husband. “Go see how little Henry is doing, I’ll check out the young one myself.”

  Claire watched the big man laugh and slap his wife’s ample bottom. Today the breathtaking woman had a basket with her son inside. But when she set him down, he started crying. “He wants his Papa,” Helga said. Claire watched as the giant miner returned and carried off the basket and boy. The baby had stopped crying instantly.

  Lynne was expecting. She had shown Claire the special drawstrings worked into her pretty lilac dress as she shared the news. What would her son call Phillip-- Papa, Dada, or Father? For a second, she wondered if she had a child, what would he call Henry? Lost in sweet thought, she stood at the grocery counter and sighed.

  “Never mind, Henry. I’ll let your pretty little wife help me today. I need some new…,” she didn’t finish as Henry blushed and excused himself to go back to check on the soup.

  Claire looked around for Ida, saw the woman nod, and walked over to help the towering blonde. “I have a new design to show you. With your décolletage, it could be stunning.”

  “Fine, but what has you looking down in the mouth. Married only a month to such a handsome, attentive young man.”

  “What kind of undergarments did you need?” Claire asked.

  Claire lifted down the box that were the first thing she had ordered from San Francisco. When she opened the box with the newest step-ins, the woman was delighted by the silk and lace garments. She especially liked the ones in colorful silk.

  “Maybe these are what your Henry needs. Come on, tell Helga everything. I am an expert on men and love.”

  As Claire blushed again, the woman bent down and moved so she was seated in the customer’s chair Henry had added the week before.

  “I don’t know, it must be me.”

  “He does seem very attentive, are you sure you’re not imagining it?”

  Claire looked back toward the rear of the store, watched Henry sip the hot soup from the ladle. When he saw her, he turned his back to them. “We, he, we only make love on Saturday night. I don’t know if that is normal, the way it should be. I daren’t ask Ida. She thinks…” Claire blushed again and knelt beside the chair, looking up at Helga’s expansive assets. Henry had insisted he didn’t need any more than her own bosom, but he obviously admired Helga and Bonnie more.

  Helga laughed, placed a hand on the sad girl’s tidy hair in its little bun, and then laughed again. “You are so precious, but your Henry is English. Tell me what you do each night, to get ready for bed.”

  Claire half rose out of her crouch and saw her husband had now filled a bowl and was eating soup and bread like a guilty child. “I go up, take off my clothes behind the screen, put on my gown, and get in bed. Henry comes up later, after locking up and checking everything again. He waits until he thinks I’m asleep, reading and smoking his pipe. Then he gets into bed and stares at me.”

  They heard Johnson’s booming voice and then Henry standing, saying of course, “Join me.”

  Claire tried to imagine the giant fitting in the tiny space behind the Vandermere’s table but couldn’t.

  “Quickly, if I don’t get Johnson, the rest of you will have nothing to eat for lunch. Tonight, wait on him.”

  “He would wonder why,” Claire stated.

  “Fine, stop by and visit the Vandermerees, make up some excuse. Wait until you hear him go into your room.”

  Claire nodded and started to protest. “I don’t want to do anything that will make him think I’m a trollop.”

  Again Helga laughed. “Silly, little bride. Instead of the screen,” she rose and escorted Claire to the counter where Claire rushed to box the three pair of underwear and chemise, and wrapped them for the woman, all the time listening. “How much you will have to take off, you will find out. He is young, probably no more than a shoe or stocking. But you will stand by the fireplace.”

  “We have a small black stove, but it’s not lit,” Claire protested.

  “You raise your foot up, lift your skirt and petticoat out of the way like so.” She demonstrated, revealing her ankle and a glimpse of her other leg. “You struggle, you remove one shoe. He notices when you bend over?”

  Claire blushed. She certainly had the little blue marks to prove it. Ever since the day she had pinched him, he had taken to surprising her with little pinches as well.

  “That is it. You undress slowly, maybe ask for help with your buttons. But I seriously doubt you will get that far.”

  “How,
I don’t understand?”

  “He is a man. When he sees you, it will raise his attention.” She raised her hand and Claire blushed even more. “Once you raise his attention, the rest will follow as the night the day.”

  Claire thanked her as Helga called in a loud voice. “Johnson and Albert, time to go.”

  Impulsively Claire hugged her and Helga laughed. “Men, they are all so simple. You will see.”

  THE END

  EPILOGUE - August, 1877

  Henry complained that they couldn’t leave the store, but Claire insisted. She had waited too long to visit her parents and her friends. The chance to travel on past the Gant’s ranch to Fort Keogh to visit Bonnie, her brothers and husband and to see the new children she had written about was now. They needed her to help raise Bonnie’s dream cabin.

  All along the train ride to Butte, Claire mused on the reasons while Henry napped. Claire knew how devastated Bonnie was at losing her first child. Ever the warrior, Bonnie had written with tears on the page about this new loss. Claire could not wait to hug her again. Bonnie had claimed God must have known how empty her heart was because he had sent not one, but two beautiful boys for her to love and raise. The two were children of a woman, Stella Jamison, who had taken her own life after a brutal rape. It was such a sad story, but Claire knew the two boys could not have more loving parents to raise them.

  Then there was Lynne and Phillip’s new son. Claire could not wait to see and hold him. Mary Anne had insisted he was the most beautiful boy in the world. The words made her smile as she read them. She knew if she had a little boy, he would be the most handsome in Butte. That was the other reason Henry was reluctant to make the journey. Claire had reminded him how Lynne drove cattle to Ogden when she was pregnant. A woman wasn’t a fragile egg.