Wedding Belles

by Janice Hanna

  “It’s true.” Lottie hung her head in shame. “I need your expertise, to be sure.”

  “Every theater person throughout time has needed a boost at some point.” Fanny stared at Flossie. “Sister, we were young once, remember?”

  “Of course I remember,” Flossie said. “What a ridiculous question.”

  “You’re missing my point,” Fanny said. “We were once green around the gills just like this young woman standing before us. Remember our very first show back in ’91? You were a silly chorus girl, and I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. I shudder to think where we would be today if Mr. Jamison from the Poughkeepsie Theater Company hadn’t taken the time to take us on in spite of our inexperience.”

  Flossie sighed.

  “That’s all she needs, Flossie,” Fanny spoke with great passion as she slipped an arm around Lottie’s shoulder. “She needs a shot.”

  Flossie mumbled something about how they were all going to need a shot of whiskey if someone didn’t step in and save the day…to which Fanny responded, “You are that someone.”

  After that, well, Flossie fell silent. So silent, in fact, that Lottie wondered if she would ever speak again.

  * * * * *

  AFTER A BRIEF CONVERSATION with Cornelia, Gilbert noticed Flossie and Fanny talking to Lottie, who appeared teary-eyed. He headed their way and caught the tail end of their conversation. He sensed Lottie’s frustration, of course, and felt bad that Flossie had stirred her to tears, but if what he’d heard was right, the older woman spoke the truth. The script did need work. Not that he had anything to worry about now. No, from the looks of things, God had brought just the right people and at just the right time. With Bossy Flossie taking the reins, the details would practically iron themselves out.

  If tonight’s auditions were any indicator, the melodrama would come together with little effort and the very real predicament at Parker Lodge would soon be a thing of the past. Guests would come out to see the show and leave content. They would spread the word, and before long others would come. Over time things would turn themselves around. He would keep his father’s dream alive by filling the lodge with paying customers. And all because of Lottie’s willingness to humble herself.

  He would have to remind himself to thank her later. Right now he was simply content to breathe a huge sigh of relief.

  SEVEN

  HOMESTEADERS GO A-COURTIN’

  Recent auditions for the Parker Lodge theatrical came off without a hitch. Locals and out-of-towners alike showed up to read for parts. What a night! What talent! What flair! What enthusiasm! Truly, a memorable evening for all involved. So, who will play the various roles? Stay tuned for more information. Our cast list will be posted on Sunday at noon on the door of the Estes Park Community Church. We can share this little tidbit—we will have a very fine-looking female ensemble, thanks to the addition of ten professional actresses. Add to that our local talent and we’ve got the makings of a wonderful show. So hang onto your hat, Estes Park friends! You’re about to witness drama as you’ve never seen it before. —Your friends at Parker Lodge

  THE MORNING AFTER the auditions, Gilbert put together a plan to take the ladies on an excursion up into the mountains. He called on Jeb to bring his hay wagon, and Phineas agreed to bring several of his strongest horses. At nine thirty the women gathered in the dining hall, anxious to be on their way. Lottie appeared in her overalls, and many of the women gave her curious looks.

  Sharla—dressed in another low-cut gown—wrinkled her nose at Lottie. She turned to Gilbert. “I’m not quite sure I understand that girl. She dresses like a boy…on purpose?”

  Gilbert fought to keep his gaze on Sharla’s face and not the low-cut dress. “Well, I don’t think she’s trying to look like a boy. Mostly she just likes to be comfortable. And around here the women work really hard, so frilly dresses and such aren’t as practical. You’ll see what I mean when you’ve been here awhile. People don’t pay as much attention to dressing up, at least not the working people. Some of the ladies in town, maybe, but not those who work for a living.”

  “Still, none of the other women dress like that.” Sharla gestured in Lottie’s direction. “Your mother, for instance. And some of the women from town who showed up for auditions. They wore plain dresses, but at least they were dresses, not pants.”

  “I think she’s cute,” Cornelia chimed in. “Sort of kid-brother-like.”

  “Right.” Gilbert shrugged. “I know some of the fellas have been trying to talk her into taking one of the roles in the play and dressing up in lace and frills. They seem to think the locals will come out just to see that.” He chuckled. “They might be on to something. I know a lot of folks would pay to see Lottie dressed like a girl.”

  Cornelia’s brow wrinkled. “Might not be a bad way to get people to the show, but I do wonder if her feelings would be hurt in the process. She’s such a sweet girl, so kind to everyone. Putting her on display might wound her. I would hate to see her hurt in any way.”

  Gilbert felt a twinge of guilt as he thought through her words. “I suppose you’re right. Sometimes we just think about how something will benefit us and not the other person. Thank you for the reminder to be careful of her feelings.” He gave Cornelia an admiring look, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

  “Of course.” Cornelia’s eyelashes fluttered. “I enjoy helping.”

  At this point, Sharla took off across the dining hall, waving at Patricia and Cherry. Left alone with Cornelia, Gilbert decided to broach a delicate topic. He turned to face her, more than a little distracted by her sweet smile and beautiful eyes.

  “How do you feel the auditions went?” he asked.

  She frowned. “I see a few possibilities, though I do have to wonder about the local talent. Some of the men are rather…” She lowered her voice. “Well, rather unskilled in the art of acting.”

  “Really?” This perplexed Gilbert. “I thought they did a fine job. Just goes to show you that I know very little about the acting craft.”

  “It would seem a lot of people around here know very little about acting.” Her eyes narrowed, and he could read the concern on her face.

  “I can’t speak for everyone in town, but trust me when I say that the drama skills of the men are fully intact. In fact, I’ve never met a more dramatic bunch.” Gilbert gave her a playful wink.

  She returned his wink with the most delightful smile he’d ever seen. It sent his heart fluttering in a way he hadn’t experienced since…well, since Winifred left for Denver.

  He didn’t have long to bask in the feeling, however. Several of the ladies approached, led by Sharla, Patricia, and Cherry.

  “Are the fellas coming along for our trip to the mountains?” Cherry asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I had my eye on a couple of ’em last night.”

  Gilbert cleared his throat. “Well, Jeb is coming, for sure. We’re using his hay wagon. And I heard Augie say he’s coming. Chauncy too.”

  “Mmm. That Chauncy is something to look at.” Sharla sighed. “A little rough around the edges, but handsome as all get-out.”

  “Yes, he is quite handsome.” Grace’s delicate cheeks flushed and her gaze shifted to the ground.

  “Much nicer than that older fella.” Patricia wrinkled her nose. “What was his name again? You know the one I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  “Phineas.” Cherry crossed her arms. “Not the most likable man, now, is he? A little pushy.”

  “He’s what I commonly refer to as an ‘old coot.’ ” Patricia laughed. “Reminds me of my uncle Henry, only with a surlier expression on his face.”

  Gilbert paused to think through their words. He’d never considered Phineas pushy. Strong and determined, maybe…but pushy?

  “Phineas is supposed to come and bring his team of horses,” Gilbert said. “Otherwise we might be walking to the mountains, not riding.”

  “I somehow doubt he’ll show.” Lottie’s voice rang out from Gilbert’s left.
<
br />   He turned to face her. “Why not?”

  “Well, as you know, Phineas hasn’t had a drink in years, but I have to wonder if he headed straight to the saloon after the earful Flossie gave him last night at the auditions. She pretty much took his head off during that scene I asked them to run together. You didn’t see that?”

  “No. Are you serious?”

  Lottie laughed. “I’m just teasing about the drinking part, but I have a feeling that woman could drive a man to drink in no time. They had some serious words both during and after the scene. At first I thought it was part of the act, but I was sadly mistaken.”

  “They’re two peas in a pod,” Cornelia observed. “And I daresay they will both win us over in the end.”

  Gilbert smiled at her. There she goes again, seeing the good in everyone.

  Minutes later, Augie arrived wearing his Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. Rather odd for a trip up the mountain. Must be gearing up for his mayoral campaign. Chauncy, in a stunning move, showed up with his hair combed. He’d really and truly combed it. And Jeb, for once, had shaved. Strange, how different he looked without the whiskers. He arrived with the large hay wagon, pulled by his old mare, Sadie. Gilbert ushered the women outside still wondering if Phineas would show. One lone mule could hardly pull a wagon filled with women.

  Hannah wrinkled her nose and sneezed three times as she got close to the hay. “We’re riding in a hay wagon?”

  “It’s the best choice for getting such a large group where they need to go,” Gilbert explained. “And Phineas’s horses”—if he shows—“are strong. They’re accustomed to pulling a lot of weight.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” Fanny swatted herself on the backside. “I’d hate to think we’d only make it halfway up the mountain and then roll back down again.”

  At this, all the women laughed. Well, all the women but Prudy, who looked terrified at the proposition of rolling backward down a mountain.

  Hannah sneezed—once, twice, then a third time. She reached inside her pocket for a white handkerchief, which she used to dab her nose. “Is there something we could put on the hay before sitting on it? I’d hate to get my dress dirty.”

  “Like what?” Jeb asked.

  “Maybe a quilt?” She folded her hankie and eased it into her pocket. “Something like that?”

  He shrugged. “The only quilt I’ve got is the one Sadie—my mule— uses. But I think she would be happy to share. She’s very generous.”

  Hannah sighed and muttered something about how there wasn’t enough money in the gold mines of Colorado to entice her to sit on a mule’s quilt.

  Jeb took a couple of steps in Gilbert’s direction. “Watch out for Hygiene Hannah there,” he said. “She’s worried about germs and such. Never met anyone quite like her.”

  “Poor thing,” Lottie chimed in. “She’s definitely stumbled into the wrong part of the country for that.”

  “Well, she’ll get accustomed to things in time. I hope.”

  “Let me help you into the wagon, ladies,” Jeb said. He extended his hand and, one by one, the ladies climbed aboard. Gilbert couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of them in their fancy dresses, boarding the hay-covered wagon. He kept a watchful eye on them to make sure no one got hurt but occasionally turned back toward the road, hoping Phineas would show up with his horses. If he didn’t, all bets were off. Jeb’s mule couldn’t possibly lug this many people up a mountain.

  Fanny was the last to climb aboard. Unfortunately, she required a bit of assistance, and not just from one of the fellas, but two. With a bit of pushing and pulling, she made it onto the wagon, though the huffing and puffing from the effort left Gilbert feeling winded.

  “I’ve never been accused of being the smartest gal in the group, but even I know we’re not going anywhere with that mule pulling us.” Fanny turned to Jeb with a bright smile. “Now don’t take that personally, Jeb. I’m sure Sadie is a fine animal. Just not strong enough for the task.”

  Lottie chuckled as she scratched Sadie’s ears. “If you think Sadie’s great, you should meet Katie Sue.”

  “Ah, yes.” Jeb began to sing Katie Sue’s praises, talking about her beautiful hair color, her terrific views on hard work, and her ability to make him smile even on the toughest day.

  Fanny remained silent, her brow wrinkled all the while. When he finished his dissertation, she finally spoke up. “So, Katie Sue…is that your wife, Jeb?”

  Jeb’s face turned all shades of red. “Um, well, no. Katie Sue’s my cow.”

  A couple of the ladies chuckled, and one—Cherry—actually snorted.

  Fanny gave him a compassionate look. “You spoke of her so fondly, I felt sure she was a woman.”

  “Nah. It’s just that Katie Sue and I go way back. I’ve had her since she was a little bitty thing. Lately, though…” He paused and shrugged. “Well, I’ve been giving thought to selling her. Several of the others too.”

  This piqued Gilbert’s interest, to be sure.

  “You can’t do that, Jeb,” Lottie said. “It just wouldn’t be right. I can’t imagine you without Katie Sue.”

  “You’re really thinking of letting her go?” Gilbert asked.

  Jeb nodded but didn’t say anything for a moment. He finally came closer to Gilbert and whispered, “Look…I’m not really a man of means. I barely get by. But I want to contribute in some way now that the ladies are here. I’ve agreed to chip in to cover expenses each month, but that money’s got to come from somewhere.”

  “You’re saying you’d sell Katie Sue to cover the cost of the women?” Gilbert could hardly swallow this idea.

  “Yeah.” Jeb reached over to adjust Sadie’s harness. “Guess that’s what I’m sayin’. Guess it’s a fair trade—my favorite cow for a passel of females.”

  “Still…” The very thought just seemed wrong. And from the look on Lottie’s face, she didn’t care much for the idea, either.

  Not that he had time to think about it. Just as Gilbert started to offer Jeb some alternatives, Phineas showed up with his team of horses. The older fella wore a scowl on his face, one that deepened as he glanced Flossie’s way. Still, he’d apparently spent some time grooming this morning. The whiskery chin was shaved clean and his matted hair combed nicely.

  Phineas mumbled to himself as he prepared the team then took the only free spot on the hay wagon, next to Flossie. They ended up back-to-back, neither willing to look at the other. Gilbert had a bad feeling that one of them—or maybe both—would cause a scene before the day was up.

  Minutes later the wagon was headed up into the mountains. Though Prudy and Hannah looked a bit uncomfortable, most of the other women appeared to have the time of their lives. Cornelia and Margaret chatted and laughed. Fanny told story after story about her years in the theater. Sharla batted her eyelashes every time Chauncy glanced her way, which seemed to bother Grace. Could it be the delicate beauty had her eye on Chauncy?

  What an interesting dilemma, to have so many men and women about. Talk about the perfect setup for chaos and disaster. And speaking of disaster, Cherry—heavens, that dress!—leaned forward every chance she could get, revealing far more than Gilbert cared to see. He did his best to keep his gaze on the road.

  Around eleven o’clock they arrived at the base of Longs Peak, settling on a beautiful green field filled with sunflowers and Indian paintbrushes. Jeb pulled the team next to the creek with a gentle “Whoa, Nellie!” and hopped down to assist the ladies.

  One by one they made their way out of the wagon. Of course, Phineas and Chauncy were happy to help. Augie might’ve been too, had he not been so preoccupied, tending to Margaret’s needs and bragging about his upcoming mayoral campaign. He did offer Prudy a hand after she tripped and almost fell out of the wagon.

  Poor Prudy. Gilbert couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. She didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the ladies. She’d no sooner stepped down from the wagon than her dress got caught in a bramble bush. Seconds later
she stepped into a mud puddle and soaked her stockings up to her ankles. Not that he was looking, of course. But with everyone talking about it, how could he avoid the subject?

  Phineas did just fine in assisting the ladies until it came to Flossie. He offered her a hand, but she slipped and tumbled right into his arms. Not that she stayed there long. Oh no. He lost his grip and she slid to the ground, landing on her backside with a thud.

  “Oops.” Phineas offered her a hand up then muttered a red-faced apology before walking away.

  Minutes later Lottie and Jeb set up a picnic area, creating an appetizing display of the many foods that Jeb pulled from a basket he’d brought from home. Gilbert offered a prayer and they dove right in.

  “Jeb, you made this potato salad?” Fanny gave him an admiring look then took another bite.

  He nodded, his cheeks turning red. “Yep. I like to dabble in the kitchen.”

  “And you made the beans as well?” She took a big bite of them.

  “Sure. I got bags and bags of beans, so I cook ’em whenever I can. I’ve learned how to make them a dozen different ways.”

  “Can’t imagine you could make them any better than this.” Fanny took another big bite and then offered up a contented sigh. “I’ve truly never had anything so tasty. In fact, I think I’ll have seconds.” She reached for the bowl and scooped out another helping. “Hope no one minds, but I’m still a little hungry after last night.” She shook her head. “And that oatmeal this morning…gracious! Never tasted anything quite like it.” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oops, there I go again, saying too much. Still, a body could wilt away with no more food than I’ve put in it over the past day or so.”

  “I daresay you won’t wilt away, Fanny.” Flossie rolled her eyes. “Little fear of that.”

  This got a chuckle out of some of the others.

  “You never know, Flossie. This clean mountain air might just inspire me to diet and lose a few pounds.” Fanny swallowed more potato salad. “Or it might just inspire me to make more room for the good stuff.” She rubbed her belly, and the women laughed.