by Lydia Olson
“Get me out of here!” she yelled, dashing for the door.
“No!” Miss Maudie said, sternly, slamming the door closed before Eloise could get to it. “Sit!”
Eloise whined and wailed, but eventually surrendered. She took a dressing gown from Miss Maudie’s outstretched hands and grudgingly put it on.
Teary-eyed, the emotionally-injured Whiskey Girls got off the ground and leaned against the wall, now unsure if they wanted to help at all, while Eloise slunk into the chair at the other end of the room. Eloise sniffled and breathed deeply as Miss Maudie and the more courageous Whiskey Girls went to work on her hair.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Eloise wailed, just as loudly as before. “Ow, my head!”
“Shh!” Miss Maudie hissed. “Do you want this to work or not?”
“My head!” Eloise wailed, slightly quieter than the first time.
After a while, Eloise stopped screaming, crying, and flailing enough that Miss Maudie could get to work on her makeup. Eloise wasn’t sure if she stopped screaming because she was too tired to continue, or if she was only quiet now to conserve her energy for the masquerade. She didn’t want to get there and be too tired to dance with Wilson.
Now calm, Eloise gazed around the room. Just as Miss Maudie said, the bathwater was filled with mud and scum.
She couldn’t imagine how that much dirt got stuck in her hair, or how that much dry skin could be attached to her hands and feet. An assortment of beauty supplies lay all over the room, but she had no idea what any of it was, and most of the Whiskey Girls sat in the corner by then, as if avoiding Eloise.
Fortunately, a select few of them were more encouraging.
“See, now look at that!” one of the girls said. “Your hair just glistens when you wash it right! Oh, I just can’t wait to see what it looks like all done up!”
“Yeah, and you’ve got nice skin, too – would you look at that?!” another remarked.
“I don’t know what any of that means,” Eloise sniffled.
“It means we’ve got our work cut out for us, that’s what,” Miss Maudie told her. “And I’m glad to see you’ve stopped screaming enough to pay attention!”
“Oh, come on – I wasn’t being that loud!” argued Eloise.
The room erupted with laughter, including the Whiskey Girls in the corner who seemed too scared to come near her. After what felt like hours of fighting to hold her down, several trips into the saloon to assure the customers everything was okay, and multiple small injuries to the Whiskey Girls, it seemed Eloise was the only one unaware of the struggle. Eloise glared and folded her arms.
“Don’t try to tell me none of you were like this your first time!” she huffed.
The girls exchanged looks, but none of them were confident enough to say anything. Instead, they continued to work on her hair while Miss Maudie applied a small amount of powder and rouging to her face.
“This stuff smells funny!” Eloise whined. “What are you putting on my face?”
“Oh, stop worrying so much!” Miss Maudie scolded, putting one hand on her hip. “Now, I hear the East is leaning more toward a woman’s natural beauty these days, but it never hurts to put a little bit of work toward accentuating that beauty in a face like yours. What I got here is a bit of powder for the face, and some rouging for the cheeks and lips.
“There’s nothing more beautiful and seductive to a man than those lightly reddened lips, and the pink in your cheeks just gives you more power over the longings of a man. Then, when we get done with your hair on top of it, no man in his right mind will be able to look away from ya. You’re gonna be the center of the masquerade, believe me.”
“Do you think... Wilson will like it...?” Eloise said hesitantly.
“Darling, every man will like it,” Miss Maudie assured her. “I don’t know of a single man who wouldn’t!”
“Ooh, who’s this Wilson?” the flirting Whiskey Girl wondered.
“Uh,” Eloise said, trying not to blush, “just a childhood friend of mine.”
“Doesn’t sound like he’s just a friend,” she commented. “It sounds like our little spitfire’s in love, to me. Oh, isn’t that just sweet?! I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Now, stop that!” Miss Maudie said, sternly. “The girl’s got it hard enough without all you girls teasing her like that. Just leave the poor girl alone and let her enjoy her night.”
“I didn’t mean nothing by it,” the Whiskey Girl said. “But I know a woman in love when I see it, that’s all.”
Miss Maudie glared and sighed loudly. If she didn’t know it for certain before, now Eloise was sure Miss Maudie preferred Ryan over Wilson. Her thoughts wandered, reliving every moment since Ryan asked her to marry him.
She thought of Ryan’s attitude toward her, how she felt when she ran into Wilson for the first time, the great days she spent working with Wilson at the ranch, and all the things her father said to her about it. Her wandering thoughts left her silent and distant from what was happening around her.
The Whiskey Girls didn’t seem to mind her sudden silence. Many of those who were too scared to approach her before were now willing to give it a shot, and they helped her into her gown.
The dress was hard to get into, but when it was finally on, it fell all the way to the floor. The pale-blue fabric shimmered and shone, giving Eloise an even more radiant beauty. The Whiskey Girls sighed and squealed.
“Oh, don’t you just look breathtaking?!” one girl enthused, wide-eyed.
Eloise sighed and looked down at the dress. The gown was like nothing she’d ever worn, not only because of how elegant it was, but because of how brightly-colored and well-decorated it was. Most of what she wore was soft-toned and plain, but this dress was the complete opposite. If nothing else, she was glad no one would be able to recognize her in something like this.
“How am I supposed to walk in this dress?” wondered Eloise. “It feels like every step I take is going to send me toppling to the floor!”
“Easy – just hold the dress up a bit on the side when you walk, and then let it fall again when you’ve gotten where you want to go,” one of the girls explained.
“And if you need us to pin it up a little more at the bottom so you won’t step on it, we can do that before everything starts,” Miss Maudie said. “The dress might need to be a little shorter for you.”
“It’s fine how it is, I think – but how do I dance like this?” Eloise said. “Not that I’ve ever been good at dancing; I’d just like to know, just in case.”
“The dance steps are different from regular walking, so you’ll be able to push the dress out of the way as you step,” one of the girls told her. “Just be careful when you’re stepping backwards that you look before you step, because I’ve found it’s almost always someone else who steps on the dress then.”
“Oh, this all sounds so difficult!” Eloise slouched down in her chair.
“Now, now – no slouching!” one of the girls admonished, wagging her finger at Eloise. “A lady never slouches in her seat. It looks vulgar for a lady to slouch in a dress like yours.”
“Why are there so many rules?” huffed Eloise, folding her arms.
“The rules are there to make you look more ladylike,” Miss Maudie pointed out. “There’s a certain charm to a woman who knows her way around high-society – and if you walk the walk and talk the talk, you can convince anyone you’re from a higher society than you are. That’s how you get the men to do anything for you – they fall head over heels in love.”
“Right... I think Wilson said something about that once,” Eloise said.
“Well, we’ve all seen how well Wilson’s learned high-society since leaving this town – so well, I wouldn’t have guessed he was from Cayenne, if you didn’t tell me,” Miss Maudie pointed out. “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him, after all.”
“Maybe he’ll teach me all that tonight,” Eloise ventured.
“Or maybe Ryan will,”
Miss Maudie amended. “The way I’ve heard it, he’s learning his way around higher societies every day, with all his new business endeavors.”
“I don’t know about that,” Eloise countered, looking at her hands. “Well... is that everything, then?”
“Ah, just the finishing touch,” Miss Maudie announced, plucking a glistening masquerade mask off of the table beside her.
“Right, my mask,” said Eloise.
Miss Maudie centered it on Eloise’s nose, then paused to admire her handiwork, placing her hands on her hips. She walked all the way around Eloise, admiring her hair, dress, and makeup, before finally stopping in front of her with a huge grin on her face. Eloise smiled nervously back.
“Oh, my dear,” Miss Maudie said, sniffling. “You look so beautiful... though it’s a shame to cover that face with a mask.”
“All thanks to you,” Eloise said, smiling as she stood.
“There we are,” Miss Maudie said, stepping back to see the entire look come together.
“Well...?” Eloise said, turning to the audience of women. “How do I look?”
“You look absolutely stunning!” one of the Whiskey Girls said, with the others smiling around her.
“She’s right,” Miss Maudie added quietly. “Now, let’s get you out there. The celebration can’t start until you’re there for everyone to see!”
Chapter Eleven
The stars shone down on the street in front of the saloon, glistening around Eloise and adding to her radiant beauty. Music echoed from inside the saloon, and she watched as a crowd of people danced in the street under the moonlight. Everything about the evening was magical.
Eloise noticed many heads turn as she walked by, particularly among the gentlemen, though no one recognized her for who she was in passing.
She wandered alone for a while, just to observe the ball and build the mystery behind who she might be. She wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she was really wandering to calm her nerves about receiving her first and second kisses on the same night.
Though Maudie’s plan had sounded good at first, she was beginning to doubt it.
As she thought of her, Eloise noticed Miss Maudie across the crowd, dancing with a man. The couple slowly swayed and turned until the man was facing her, and she realized it was her father. Eloise smiled.
It made her happy to think her father capable of finding companionship again, and Miss Maudie was the best person she could think of for her father to share his last years of life with.
Just beyond Maudie and Dillion, Eloise noticed Ryan leaning against the wall, apparently waiting for her near her father. Eloise wrinkled her nose. His attire looked nice, but ingenuine on him.
She didn’t think Ryan looked as good in a suit as Wilson did wearing one, but that might’ve been because of the sunburn showing through his light, blonde hair, giving away that he worked long hours outdoors. Eloise sighed and looked over the crowd again, certain she would recognize Wilson in a dashing suit, no matter his mask or how he styled the slight curl in his chestnut, brown hair.
“Hello, beautiful,” a man said, startling her.
She turned around, but she didn’t recognize the man who had spoken. Although he did seem to be intoxicated, he didn’t come off as dangerous. He bowed his head toward her and held his hand out, as if asking for a dance from royalty.
“I would be honored if a beautiful woman like you would bless me with a dance?” he said.
“Sorry, but you’re not even able to stand by yourself – how are you expecting to dance?!” Eloise said, laughing heartily. “I think you need to sit down.”
“I’m fine,” the man insisted, swaying slightly. “What makes you think I’m not?”
“Oh, there you are darling,” another man said, appearing beside Eloise and taking her hand.
Eloise flinched as the man touched her, but she only had to look at him for a moment to lose her breath at the sight. It was Wilson beside her, wearing a finely-pressed tuxedo, more extravagant than any Eloise had seen on anyone in this town. Wilson’s face was covered with a black mask, but Eloise could imagine the sly grin he must’ve had beneath it.
“Oh, there you are, uh, sweetheart?” Eloise said, trying to play along.
“Thank you so much for taking care of her, sir,” Wilson said to the drunk man. “I turned away for just a moment and she was swept away in the crowd. Thank you, but I think I can take it from here.”
“Sure,” the man slurred. “Anytime – you’ve got a very lovely wife, sir.”
“Yes, I do,” Wilson said, wrapping an arm around Eloise. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve been dying to dance with my wife all night!”
With that, he swept Eloise into the crowd and pulled her close to him. It took everything in her not to blush, or even faint as they danced. She couldn’t get it out of her head, the thought of Wilson so smoothly calling her his wife, without any discomfort. As he swung her around and pulled her close again on the dance floor, it was all she could think about.
“So... I’m your wife now, then?” she teased, giggling awkwardly.
“Yeah, I had to say something to get rid of him, didn’t I?” Wilson said. “I met that man once before – at the saloon – and he does some, well, unwise things when he’s been drinking.”
“Oh, yeah, I know!” Eloise assured him, blushing. “I didn’t think you were serious, calling me your wife.”
“I could’ve made him feel uncomfortable and called you my sister, instead, but that would’ve meant talking to him a moment longer,” Wilson said.
“Right,” Eloise said, looking away. “That would’ve been bad...”
“And the last thing I’d ever want to do to you,” Wilson continued, pulling Eloise closer until she was inches from his face, “is to ruin the night by allowing that man to start something over you. You look lovely tonight... I wouldn’t want to put all that to waste because of a man like him.”
Eloise smiled and stared up at Wilson, her big, brown eyes glistening in the moonlight. She and Wilson continued to dance for the entire evening, ignoring every attempt from other men to step in for a dance with the mysterious woman. Eloise hardly noticed the time passing, or the crowd dispersing. As long as the music was playing, she was exactly where she wanted to be.
“So...” she said. “Are you ever gonna tell me how you recognized me so fast?”
“I’d recognize that laugh of yours anywhere,” Wilson told her, spinning Eloise. “I’d been here, and was looking for you for a while already – but when I heard you laughing at that man’s shameful attempts to woo you, I knew exactly where you were.”
“Is my laugh really that noticeable?” she asked, blushing.
“Perhaps not to most people,” Wilson said, “but I tend to remember the songs I love to hear most, and your laughter happens to be one of those songs.”
“Is it really?” Eloise countered. “Of all the songs I’m able to sing, you love my laughter the most?”
“Well, I love to hear you sing, too,” Wilson amended, chuckling. “But your laughter is special.”
“I wish Daddy thought so...” Eloise said, looking at her feet.
“Ellie, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Wilson said. “The way I remember it, you and your father used to be so close... and now, everything you have to say to him – and he to you – sounds like you aren’t getting along anymore. Did something happen between you two?”
“It’s not quite so simple as that,” Eloise hedged.