Wedding Belles

by Janice Hanna

  This shushed her in a hurry. In fact, she didn’t speak a word until it was time for dessert.

  As soon as he finished his food, Lottie’s father reached for the bell and rang it. Becky arrived moments later, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Yes, Mr. Sanders?”

  “Becky, please bring that lemon meringue pie from the kitchen. I think I’ll have a large slice.” He rubbed his stomach. “I left just enough room.”

  “Yes, sir.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

  Lottie’s mother huffed and went to the kitchen, returning with several glasses of custard. “This is our dessert.”

  “Looks wonderful, darlin’. I think I’ll start with that.” Lottie’s father reached for a spoon and started eating the custard. Then, when Becky arrived with the pie—a gorgeous lemon pie with a meringue so high it looked as if it might just float to the skies— he took an extra large slice.

  Lottie’s mother muttered something under her breath but refused to take any pie.

  “I daresay this is the best lemon meringue pie I’ve ever eaten,” Lottie’s father said between bites. “Might just need a second piece.”

  Lottie cut herself a slice and lopped it onto her plate then passed the pie to Winnie, who refused, saying she didn’t need the extra pounds it might cause.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing, Winnie,” Lottie said. “This is Hannah’s special recipe. She said it was her grandmother’s.”

  “Hmm. Well, maybe just a teensy-tiny bite.” Winnie cut a little sliver and put it on her plate. “Hannah, you said? Now which one is that?”

  Lottie started to reply, “The one who’s always clean and tidy” but stopped herself. These days, “Hygiene Hannah” was covered in pie dough and pecan pie filling.

  “I’ll tell you which one she is,” Lottie’s mother said. “She’s the one over there drawing men away from their wives and tempting them to do…terrible things.”

  “Terrible things like buying pies?” Lottie’s father quirked a brow. “I can’t speak for the other men in town, but that’s what she tempted me to do.”

  With a huff, Lottie’s mother rose and threw her napkin on the table. “I’ve had about enough of this.”

  “Well, before you go, Dorothy, I had an idea.”

  She turned to face him. “And what was that?”

  “Hannah told me they’re holding a contest at the pie parlor. They’re asking local folks to submit their pie recipes. One recipe a week will be chosen to be added to the menu.”

  “And?”

  “And, you make a mighty fine strawberry pie. So, I was thinking…”

  “You can wash that thought right out of your head, Harold Sanders. My pie recipe is famous in these parts, and it will not be turned into a joke at a place such as that.”

  She tore out of the room, her skirts swishing all the way.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Lottie’s father took another piece of the pie then looked at the girls and shrugged. “That strawberry pie would easily make it on the menu. And I can see the name now: Sanders’ Strawberry Pie.” He took another bite, a pleasurable expression settling over him. “Mmm. We’ll have to think about that, now, won’t we?”

  Winnie nibbled at her slice of pie then muttered something about how she needed to go to Parker Lodge to visit with her new friend, Cornelia. Lottie suspected her sister wanted to see someone else but didn’t say so. Instead, full of beef and pie, she headed upstairs for a much-needed nap.

  * * * * *

  GILBERT PACED THE DINING HALL, completely worked up. If what Winnie had just said was true, Althea’s nephew, Thad—the lawyer from Loveland—was due to arrive in the morning.

  “Are you telling me he’s going to file some sort of lawsuit against us? How can that be?”

  “I don’t know.” Winnie wrung her hankie. “I can only tell you what Mama said, and she was plenty worked up when she said it. The Women’s League is examining their options, whatever that means.” She slipped her hand up to his shoulder. “What’s going on around here, Gil? Things have changed so much since I left.”

  “Things have changed, yes, but they were only meant to change for the better. I don’t have any idea what those women at the Women’s League are thinking.”

  “I’ll tell you what they’re thinking.” A strong female voice rang out from behind him. “They’re thinking they will take us down. But they’re wrong.”

  Gilbert turned to see Flossie standing just a few feet away. He took a step back from Winnie’s touch, embarrassed to be caught in what might be misconstrued as a compromising position. “O–oh?”

  “Yes. But we’re not going to let them take us down, Gil. We’re going to save this lodge, and the show will go on as planned. ‘If God be for us—’ ”

  “ ‘Who can be against us?’ ” He finished the Scripture for her and then smiled, feeling a boost of confidence.

  “Exactly. Now, get on over to Lottie’s place and tell her she’s needed here. We’re going to have a meeting this evening, one to map out a plan of our own. That way, if Mrs. Baker’s fancy lawyer-nephew does show up tomorrow, we’re ready for him. Got it?”

  He smiled. “Got it.”

  Gilbert turned and took off running for Lottie’s house with Winnie on his heels.

  SIXTEEN

  THE BALLAD OF THE LONGS PEAK LADIES

  Theatricals are known for their handsome heroes who rush in to save the day and weak, spineless damsels in distress. When was the last time you saw a melodrama with females who banded together to right the injustices they faced? We at Parker Lodge feel the time has come for a different sort of theatrical. Our damsels refuse to let their distresses get them down. Instead, they use them to propel the hero to be the man he was meant to be. And they do it all arm in arm, hand in hand. Estes Park, you just haven’t lived until you’ve seen a band of feisty females in action! —Your friends at Parker Lodge

  LOTTIE HAD ONLY SLEPT for an hour when Winnie came bursting into her bedroom, making all sorts of noise. Her sister’s wide eyes clued her in that something was happening.

  “You have to get up. There’s going to be a meeting at the lodge, and you’re needed. Gil’s downstairs waiting.”

  “Gil, here?” Lottie yawned and stretched.

  “Yes, it’s important. You need to come with us.”

  Lottie swung her legs over the side of the bed, more confused than ever. “What sort of meeting?”

  “I’m not sure,” Winnie said. “But I don’t think you want to miss this one, Lottie. Sounds like it’s gonna be a doozie.”

  Lottie got up and dressed at once, not bothering to fuss with her hair. Minutes later, she, Winnie, and Gil entered the dining hall at Parker Lodge to find that Phineas, Jeb, Chauncy, and Augie had beaten them there.

  “Must be really important.” Lottie released a breath and tried to still her heart. She took a seat, and Flossie rose to address the room.

  She started by clearing her throat then dove right in. “Folks, I guess it’s apparent: the ladies in that Women’s League are a force to be reckoned with.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Sharla rolled her eyes. “What’ve they done this time?”

  “They’re just up to their usual tricks, but they’re bringing in the big guns. A lawyer is set to arrive tomorrow.”

  “A lawyer?” Cherry’s brow wrinkled. “Whatever do they need a lawyer for?”

  “We’re not sure,” Gil said. “But we want to be ready, just in case they’re up to shenanigans.”

  Cherry fanned herself. “Gracious. The last time I saw a lawyer, he was serving me with papers from my ex-husband.” She giggled. “Good riddance, I say. That louse was a noose around my neck. Happy to be rid of him.”

  Lottie was startled by this news. Then again, there were probably all sorts of things she didn’t know yet about the ladies. Surely each of them had a story. Fear wriggled its way up her spine. Hopefully none of them were convicts or anything like that. Goodness, why hadn’t
they thought to check into that before bringing them to Estes Park? At once her imagination ran away with her. She envisioned several of the ladies being wanted by the law, and she pictured Althea’s nephew—the high-powered lawyer—proving his case.

  “Lottie, are you still with us?” Gil gave her a funny look, and she nodded.

  “Y–yes. Sorry. Just thinking.”

  “Ah.” Crinkles appeared around his eyes.

  “I think it’s time to take action,” Flossie said.

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing with the melodrama?” Margaret asked.

  “And the pie parlor?” Hannah chimed in.

  “And the handbills?” Lottie asked.

  “Yes, and Augie’s articles in the Mountaineer too. But I truly believe we’ve been brought here from New York, Denver, and Atlantic City to play a larger role than the ones we’ve been given on the stage.”

  “A larger role?” Patricia shrugged. “What do you mean?”

  “We want to be a help to the Parker family, but the Women’s League has been a hindrance. They’ve reared their heads, and I feel we must respond, though perhaps not as you might think. There are a million ways for a woman to get what she wants. All across this great country of ours, women are fighting to have their voices heard.”

  Fanny raised her hand in the air and let out a rousing, “Preach it, sister!”

  “This is the part I don’t understand,” Lottie said. “Mama and Mrs. Baker are strong women. They both believe in women’s rights. That’s why I’m so perplexed by their current behavior.”

  Flossie pursed her lips. “Most folks think that only men are territorial, but I’m of the firm conviction that women can be even more so.”

  “What do you mean?” Lottie asked.

  “We’re encroaching on their territory, so they’re kicking back by trying to make our lives miserable.”

  “They’re succeeding too,” Margaret said. “From all appearances, anyway.”

  “They will only succeed if we allow it.” Flossie squared her shoulders. “And that’s why we’re not going to allow it. You hear me, folks? We’re not going to let them lick us. They can bring in their important lawyer, but we won’t go down without a fight. We’ll stay here—at Parker Lodge—and put on the best theatrical this town has ever seen. We’ll win the respect of those women and anyone else with any degree of suspicion.” She gave Lottie a knowing look. “Are you in?”

  “Do I have any choice?”

  Flossie laughed. “Lottie, I’ll make you a promise. Not only will we beat those women at their own game, but we will eventually win them over to our way of thinking.”

  “And how, pray tell, will we accomplish that?” Lottie asked.

  “Ooh, I know,” Margaret said, brushing loose strands of hair from her shoulders. “We can appeal to their materialistic side.”

  “Materialistic side?” Prudy didn’t appear to be convinced.

  Flossie crossed her arms. “What do you mean, materialistic side?” she said to Margaret.

  “For women, going to the theater is all about who’s wearing what,” Margaret said. “It’s an excuse to shop. When those women catch on to what’s what, they’ll want to outdo each other with their fancy dresses and hats and coats. You’ll see.”

  Fanny shrugged. “Maybe. Not sure about that, though. If they show up, they’ll be dressed in nice clothes, sure. But how do we get them here?”

  Augie rose and addressed the group. “They’ll show up all right, dressed to the nines. You’ll see finery like you’ve never seen it. Want to know why? Because I’m going to run pieces in the Mountaineer about how to dress for the theater. The local woman will be rarin’ to go, each one trying to outdress the other.”

  “Maybe.” Fanny still didn’t appear convinced.

  Flossie didn’t either, but she didn’t seem worried. “Those women are the very last thing you need to worry about. They’re not our problem. They’re our answer.”

  Every eye in the room turned to her.

  “Our answer?” Lottie couldn’t help but voice the words. Since when was Althea Baker an answer?

  Flossie now spoke with great passion. “Look, I know not all of you are going to agree with me. What I’m about to say might not even make much sense to you. But I’m a firm believer in the Bible, and the Bible says that we are to take possession of our territory.”

  “Take possession of our territory?” Sharla shook her head. “What does that mean? Are we going to war?”

  “Maybe. Ever heard the story of Joshua at the town of Jericho? He marched around that city seven times, blew his horn, and the walls fell down.” Flossie lifted her arms.

  “And David facing the mighty Goliath,” Fanny spoke up. “Surely you’ve heard that story.”

  “That one I know.” Cherry chewed her fingernails. “But I still don’t see what it has to do with us. I don’t even own a slingshot.”

  “Well, I do.” Flossie gave her a smile. “The Word of God is my slingshot, and it’s one I plan to use. I’m going to give you gals some Scriptures to memorize. You’re going to say them every day.”

  “Scriptures?” Patricia wrinkled her nose. “But I’m busy memorizing my lines.”

  “These lines are more important than any in a script. So get ready. We’re going to start marching around Jericho—er, Estes Park—right away. Put your walking shoes on.”

  “Better yet, put your boots on.” Lottie grinned. “I’ll have all of you in cowboy boots before long, anyway.”

  Sharla mumbled something about how she didn’t have any boots—and even if she did, she wouldn’t be caught dead walking around the mountains in them—but Flossie kept going, regardless. She quoted Scripture after Scripture, honing in on one Bible story after another as proof that God could—and would—move on their behalf if they banded together.

  “This is what theater people do,” Flossie said. “We’re a family. We’re more than just a cast. These are the people you eat, work, and play with. And we’ve been brought together, as the Bible says, for such a time as this. So don’t question why you’re here in Estes Park. Just accept it and understand that God is up to something bigger than us.”

  Lottie saw that Phineas watched Flossie with an admiring look in his eyes. And when Fanny rose to share her heart, Jeb could hardly stay in his seat. The fellas definitely appeared to be enraptured with these strong female heroines who’d swept in to save the town.

  And why not? As Lottie looked on—as she listened to Fanny’s impassioned plea—she felt pretty enraptured, herself.

  * * * * *

  GILBERT LISTENED TO FLOSSIE’S SPEECH with renewed hope. Though he’d always trusted the Lord, he hadn’t fully given over this situation to Him. He’d spent more time trying to come up with solutions on his own. But no more. The time had come. He would let go of the reins and march around Jericho. He would trust God in the same way Moses trusted Him at the Red Sea, the way David trusted Him as he stood before Goliath. And Gilbert would do it with a group of women—well, mostly women—who looked fit for the task.

  At least, with those who were paying attention. As the meeting ended, Grace and Chauncy made their way to the stage, where she began to work with him on his dance steps. They’d been together a lot lately. So had Phineas and Flossie, who were now engaged in a conversation on the other side of the room. And Jeb and Fanny, who seemed like an odd but somehow appropriate fit.

  Augie approached with a smile. “Gilbert, I just wanted you to know that I’ve got the perfect person to help me with the new fashion column for the Mountaineer.”

  “Oh? Who’s that?”

  “Prudy.”

  “Prudy?” He glanced at the shy young woman who stood on the far side of the room chatting with one of the other ladies.

  “Yes.” Augie’s face lit into a smile. “We’ve been discussing her love of writing. Did you know she’s quite talented in that area?”

  Gilbert took a seat and gestured for Augie to join him. “No. I wish I’
d known. Lottie could’ve used her help with the script.”

  “Well, not that kind of writing.” Augie gave Prudy an admiring look. “She’s done several journalistic pieces in the various towns where she’s lived. She’s even written for the New York Times. Her clippings are great.”

  “Clippings?”

  “Oh, sorry. Always forget that people who aren’t in the business don’t always understand the terminology. Clippings. When you’ve been published in the paper, you cut out the article and keep it in a file. Those clippings are shown to editors—people like me—to prove a history of publishing.”

  “Interesting. So…” Gilbert did his best to hide a grin. “She has nice clippings?”

  Augie crossed his arms. “She’s a wonderful lady, Gilbert. Very professional. I know she seems withdrawn, but she’s not. The real Prudence comes out on paper. You might be surprised to discover that she’s quite bold in print.”

  “That is interesting.” He could hardly believe it, in fact. Still, if what Augie said was true, she would be the perfect person to write the articles, because she understood the women’s point of view.

  “Sometimes writing things down makes us courageous. In her case, she’s far more outspoken on the written page, and that’s a good thing. Finding a balanced reporter—one who doesn’t come across as aggressive, but one who gets the job done—well, those reporters are hard to find. And when you do find one, you do your best not to let her—er, them—go.”

  “What are you saying, Augie?” Gilbert leaned his elbows on the table and gave his friend a closer look.

  A smile turned up the edges of Augie’s mouth. “Oh, just saying I have a lot to think about.”

  “Sounds like it.” Gilbert extended his hand and Augie shook it. “Thanks for your help, my friend. It means a lot.”

  “You’re welcome.” Augie rose. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to go see a woman about a newspaper job.”

  Gilbert chuckled. He sat alone for a moment, thinking through everything that had been said. From across the room he noticed Lottie glancing his way. For a moment, he hardly knew what to make of her. Standing there in that pretty blue dress with such a relaxed expression on her face and with her fashionable hairstyle, he hardly recognized her.