Newton (Prairie Grooms Book 9) (7 page)

A
rya sat
in a corner of the mercantile and quietly watched the chaos around her. The women were chattier than a group of squawking crows, and she did her best not to laugh at them. This Duncan and his wife were all any of them talked about – she wondered if they were ever going to get around to discussing her dress.

Thankfully, Grandma came to her rescue. “Quiet, everyone! We’ve got to get down to business. Not only are Duncan and Cozette coming back, but we have a wedding to plan!”

“A wedding?” Fanny Fig huffed. “Who’s …?” She stopped and glanced around. “Oh, never mind – I know who’s getting married. About time, too. Shameful!”

“Fanny, you stop right there,” Grandma warned. “Newton and Arya are doing what they think is right in the sight of God and the church, and you’re going to complain about it?”

“I didn’t complain,” Fanny said, her chin held high. “I voiced an opinion.”

“Well, keep your opinions to yourself,” said Mary Mulligan. “We’ve held our tongues and been civil to young Mr. Whitman, and there’s no reason to change that. They were wed under her people’s law – now they’ll be under ours.”

“As if those wild Injuns have any law at all,” Fanny huffed.

Irene Dunnigan was standing next to the counter, and several of the women cringed when she brought out her ladle. “Fanny Fig, one more word out of you and I swear …”

“Good heavens!” Imogene said. “There’s no need for violence! I didn’t come all the way into town from Ryder’s place to see …” She stopped, then gave Fanny a long look. “Hmmm …”

Constance Jones, who sat next to her, patted her hand. “Irene isn’t really going to hit Fanny. She’s only teasing.”

“I
do
not
tease,” Irene snorted.

Fanny’s eyes grew wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

Irene’s eyes were hard as currants as she scrunched up her face. “Try me.”

“Enough!” Grandma said. “Let’s not turn this sewing circle into a boxing match! We’ve got work to do. Not only do we have Arya’s dress to worry about, but the menfolk came up with an idea I think is just wonderful.”

“What idea is that?” asked Edith Cooke. “I’ll need to tell Sadie and Belle when I get home.”

“How is Belle?” Grandma asked, deviating from the subject for a moment.

“I have a feeling that baby might come early. She’s very tired, but she’s coping.”

“Oh dear,” Grandma said. “I’d best tell Doc Drake to head on out there and take a look at her when we’re done here. Speaking of which, let’s focus on what we’re going to do.”

“You haven’t told us yet what the men came up with,” Apple pointed out.

“Oh yes, that,” Grandma said then stood proudly. “They think we should have a dance.”

“A dance?!” several of the women echoed.

“Where are we going to have a dance?” asked Fina.

“That’s just it,” Grandma said. “We have to think of someplace. At this time of year we can’t have it outside – it’ll be too cold by the time Duncan gets here.”

“True, a big dance like the one we had out at the Cookes’ a few years ago won’t work,” Mary commented.

“What about the church?” Annie King suggested.

“You want to have a dance in a place of worship?” Irene asked in shock.

“The only other place large enough is the saloon,” Annie said. “Clear Creek keeps growing and if we invite everyone in the area, it’s going to be a tight fit either way.”

Arya emerged from her corner and went to stand next to Irene. “What is dance?”

Everyone turned and looked at her. The usually impatient Irene only smiled. “It’s when people get together to … celebrate something.”

“Now there’s a fine explanation, Irene,” Fanny grumbled.

“It also involves moving around to music,” Apple explained, waving her arms around.

“Music,” Aria said with a smile. “I know what music is.”

“Your people must dance,” Apple said. “Around a fire, maybe?”

Arya nodded. “I understand now. Thank you.”

“That’s amazing,” Lucy White said as she stared at Arya. “I thought she didn’t know any English.”

“A few weeks ago, she didn’t,” Susara Kincaid replied. “But she’s a very fast learner.”

“And Newton taught me a little before we came here,” Arya explained.

“You talk so well for just learning our language,” Lucy pointed out.

“I tried to learn Italian once,” Penelope said with a sigh. “All I can remember is
arrivederci.
”

Some of the women giggled, including Arya. “Maybe you not have to learn as fast as I have.”

“Susara says you’re a natural,” Imogene said. “You could well be speaking four different languages in a few years. I think it’s positively fascinating. I’d love to learn some of yours. Is it difficult?”

“Newton thinks so,” Arya said, which sent the women into giggles.

“Enough!” Grandma barked. “We need to get started. Annie, if you think the church’ll work, then we’ll use it. Boy, we sure could use a meeting hall in this town.”

“There’s also the dining room at the hotel,” Eloise said. “If we removed all the tables except for one or two for the food…”

“Aye, and we could have some men bring the piano o’er from the saloon,” Mary added.

“That’s a good idea,” Eloise agreed. “The church sanctuary and the dining room at the hotel are both about the same size. I’ll speak with Mr. Van Cleet about it – I’m sure he’ll say yes. We could place chairs against the wall for people to sit, and the lobby is big enough to accommodate the overflow.”

“All in favor of having a dance in the hotel, raise their hand,” Grandma called. Everyone put their hand up except Arya, who really didn’t have a clue as to what was going on.

“It’s unanimous!” Grandma announced. “This way we can use Mrs. Upton’s kitchen. And don’t you go to griping, Irene – you’ve been itching for an excuse to get into that kitchen for I don’t know how long.”

Irene, ladle in hand, stepped behind the counter and glared at the lot of them. “I still like mine better.”

Grandma rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand at her. “All right, now that’s decided, let’s move on. We can talk about decorations later. No sense in fussing about it until Duncan gets here.”

“When is Duncan to arrive?” Imogene asked.

“We’re not really sure,” Edith said. “Colin is hoping it’s about the same time Belle has her baby.”

“Well, when is the bairn coming?” Mary asked.

“Doc’s guess is right around Thanksgiving,” Grandma said. “And Doc Drake agrees.”

“Speaking of Doc Drake, where’s Elsie?” Lucy asked.

“Elsie’s with him,” Grandma explained, “digging up plants for some sort of healing concoction. Don’t really care what it is, so long as it works. Now back to the task at hand – let’s talk about a wedding dress for Arya here.”

Arya heard her name and stepped away from the counter. The women chatted happily and paid her little mind. Not wanting to make a fuss, she stood and listened to them talk about two colors: white and something they called
ivory
. She wasn’t sure what that was, and she made a mental note to ask Susara later. Besides, other women would be asking about things too. Not all of the women were there.

Eloise had informed her that not everyone showed up at the sewing circle for one reason or another. Some of the women had small children and if one of them was sick, they didn’t come to town. Also, most families had only one wagon, so if a woman’s husband happened to be using it that day, they were also out of luck.

“Kind of funny, isn’t it?” Irene commented next to her.

Arya jumped, not expecting the woman to talk to her. “Funny?”

“Everybody’s planning how to make your wedding dress except you. Why don’t you speak up?”

“I am … not very concerned about it.”

“Not concerned?! Are you going to let them plan your wedding dress and not put your two cents in?”

“What is two cents?”

Irene rolled her eyes. “My opinion, only I charge more.” She slammed her ladle on the counter.

Everyone jumped and looked at her. “What is it Irene?” Grandma asked.

“Ya know this girl has two ears, don’t you?” Irene shot back. “For crying out loud, let the poor child have a say in her own dress!”

The women glanced at one another. “We didn’t think she’d understand what we said,” Fanny Fig explained smugly.

“You all were just complimenting her on how well she speaks our language, then you turn around and leave her out of a conversation about her own wedding gown?” Irene huffed. “Good grief, what’s the world coming to?”

Grandma stood. “Irene’s right. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves. Come here, child,” she said, motioning Arya to stand beside her. “We’re sorry – I guess none of us are used to having someone … quite like you in town.”

“Like me?” Arya said as her eyes roamed over the different women in the room. “But you are all like me.”

Fanny Fig started to laugh. Irene walked over to her and smacked her thigh with the ladle. “Ouch! Dagnabit, Irene! Put that thing away!”

“Land sakes, Irene, control yourself!” Grandma scolded. She put her arm around Arya. “Now what we mean is, you were brought up differently from all of us. You’ve
lived
differently.”

“
Diff…er-ent-ly
,” Arya said, sounding the word out.

“That’s right,” Grandma said. “You grew up learning how to ride a horse and hunt. None of us did. That makes us different in a way.”

Arya thought about that for a moment. “You,” she said and swept a hand at the women. “You don’t shoot guns?”

“Heavens no!” said Lena. “Well, unless we have to.”

“Speak for yourself!” Imogene said. “I’ve shot a gun or two.”

Arya smiled at her. She knew Imogene was married to Newton’s father but had only seen her on a few occasions since being in Clear Creek. Newton said it was because they lived a good two hours’ ride from town.

“What color would you like your dress to be?” Grandma asked, changing the subject.

Her question startled Arya, who blinked a few times. “What is this ivory?”

“Irene,” Grandma called. “Fetch a bolt of ivory off the shelf, will you?

Irene went to a shelf, grabbed a bolt of fabric and brought it to her. Imogene did the same, but took a bolt of white cloth, setting hers next to Irene’s. “Here,” she said. “You can see the difference now.”

“Ohhhh, so this is
ivory
,” Arya said, fingering the cloth. “But I like this one better,” she said, pointing to the white.

“All right, white it is,” said Grandma. “What about lace?”

“Lace?”

Irene looked at Imogene. “We’d better go fetch some.” They put back their bolts of cloth and returned with several different colors of lace for her to examine. “Of course, if your dress is going to be white, you’re going to want white lace,” Irene explained.

That makes sense
, Arya thought. She smiled and nodded.

“White lace it is!” Grandma said. “All right, let’s get this girl measured!”

“Measured?” Arya said. “What is measured?”

“Don’t worry,” said Imogene. “We need to know how much fabric the dress will need, so we need to find out how big you are. This will only take a moment.”

Several women gathered around her, Grandma with a long ribbon-like piece of cloth in her hand. She wrapped it around Arya’s waist, called out a number and one of the other women scribbled it down. She did the same with her shoulders, arms, chest and a few other places, then took her over to where the fabric was kept. There were several bolts of white cloth, and they let her pick which one she wanted.

It was rather nice to be fussed over. Even nicer, the women began to talk to her. Now that they finally understood how well she could speak, she was beginning to understand why Newton wanted this for her. For the first time, she was glad he made them stay in Clear Creek. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have another language now, or the prospect of new friends.

O
nce the ladies
’ sewing circle came to a close, Imogene, Constance and Eloise walked with Arya back to the hotel. “Let’s take a look at the dining room,” Eloise suggested. “I want to see if my guess is right as to how much room we’ll have.”

“After removing the tables,” Constance clarified.

“I’m sure we can have some of the men store them in the empty rooms.”

“Empty rooms?” Imogene said. “How many of them are empty?”

“Quite a few,” said Eloise. “Only a third of the rooms are even furnished. Mr. Van Cleet won’t order more beds and furnishings until things start getting busy.”

“Seems to me he’s going to have a long wait,” Imogene said dryly. “But no matter – at least we can use the hotel for other things.”

“Yes, like this dance!” Constance said with a smile. “I’ve not danced in ages!”

“Nor have I,” Eloise said. “It’s going to be wonderful!”

“Are you thinking of a more formal dance?” Imogene asked.

“Of course, what other kind of dance would one have for a duke and duchess …” Constance stopped short and gasped. “Oh dear. Ryder doesn’t know how to dance properly.”

“I wonder if Seth does,” Eloise added as she paled.

“They danced with you at some of the wedding suppers,” Imogene said.

“Yes, but those were very informal affairs,” said Constance. “For the duke and duchess we should have proper dancing. Our poor husbands aren’t going to know how.”

“What makes you think the Duke does?” Imogene asked with a smile.

“Cousin,” Eloise said, “the man has been in England for two years. Of course he knows how to dance.”

“Oh yes, you’re quite right. Well, I suppose the only thing to do is to teach the men.”

“I am sorry,” Arya said. “But what is this you speak of?”

“Our husbands don’t know how to dance,” Constance said flatly. “We’re going to have to teach them.”

“Then Newton does not know,” she said, eyes wide. “How am I to teach him?”

“Newton is probably one of the few men around here who
does
know how to dance properly,” said Eloise. “Isn’t that right, Cousin Imogene?”

“I don’t think our Newton went to too many balls while he was in England. One of us might have to teach him. We’ll teach you too, Arya. Come to think of it, I think the best person for this job is Cutty.”