Threads of Change (23 page)

T
homas hadn’t ridden very long before he caught a glimpse of that for which he’d set out searching that morning.

“Hello, anyone there?” he called out as he approached the peddler’s wagon.

“Mr. Skelly here,” someone returned through a thick Irish brogue. “Friend or foe?”

“Oh, friend for sure, Mr ….”

“Skelly. Just peddler Skelly,” the little man sang as he appeared from behind the wagon. “What might I do ya for?”

“I wasn’t sure I’d find you,” Thomas said as he dismounted. “I was told you were due this morning.”

“Ah, so I was, laddy. So I was,” Skelly said as he adjusted his strange little suit. “Just taking a quick break, I was. I stopped at a few ranches and farms on my way to Fort Worth. Made me some nice trades, too. Is that where you’re from, boy? Came from Fort Worth, did ya now?”

“Yes,” Thomas replied. “Thomas Bratcher. I’m new to the area.”

“Oh,” he said, lifting a hopeful eyebrow, “are you a married man now, Thomas Bratcher? With a family? Do you need something for them? I have some lovely things. Yes, I do Mr. Bratcher. Would you like to see?”

Thomas smiled at the round little peddler. He had to listen carefully to understand what he was saying over his thick accent.

“Yes.” Thomas paused. “Well, they’ll be my family soon anyway. I’m traveling with the Maillys from Louisiana and I’ve recently become betrothed to—”

The peddler’s eyes ignited like a torch, and he squealed with glee as he took one hop off the ground, launching into a little jig as he landed.

Thomas wondered how the peddler could get all of his weight off the ground like that and had to hide his amusement at the Irishman’s dance.

“The Mailly family, you say? Imagine that! The luck o’ the Irish holds true.” He talked excitedly as he searched the inside of his vest pocket until he produced a letter. “I have something for them, you know. This letter is from Captain Sewell’s wife back in Fort Polk and it is to be hand delivered from me personally. Can you show me the way to the ladies?”

“Yes, I can. I’m going that way now. But first I thought I might need to purchase something from you. Elizabeth Bromont is to be my wife, and I would like to buy her a special gift. Would you have anything in your wagon for my future bride?” Thomas asked with anticipation.

The peddler put his finger up as he asked, “Could your bride be the same as the fair Liz Mailly?”

“Well, yes, the very same. She is the granddaughter of Lucas Mailly and the widow of Caleb Bromont.”

“You must secure the reins of that horse of yours, Mr. Bratcher, and come see what I have for you. It’s your lucky day, Thomas Bratcher! Your new bride will love you even more when I show you what I have!”

“Show me,” Thomas said as he quickly wrapped the reins of his horse around the wooden bar at the back of the peddler’s wagon.

The little man scurried up into the back of the wagon rather quickly considering his girth, and he began moving things around inside. Finally, he appeared with a large cloth bag and began the story of the quilt inside it.

“Mrs. Sewell, the precious lady, has a new wee one and was in need of many things, and she wanted to buy a special gift for her husband, the captain. He is a lucky man to have the love of that woman … yes, indeed … and she wanted to buy the gift for him and trade for the baby things.”

Mr. Skelly untied the knot at the end of the bag as he told Thomas his story. Thomas couldn’t imagine what the peddler could have in that bag, or why it had him so elated, but he continued to insist that the contents would make the perfect gift for Liz.

The peddler pulled the quilt from the bag and continued telling the story as he opened it wide for Thomas to see.

“The captain’s wife makes quilts,” the round man continued as he yanked one out of the bag. “And she has them stacked up and folded neatly in a cabinet. She told how the Mailly women were so inspired by her quilts, in fact, that they could hardly think of anything else during their trip. Miss Mailly … er … Liz,” the peddler stumbled over her name, “really wanted this one. She tried to buy it from her on that day, in fact, but the captain’s wife wasn’t ready to let it go just then. When she was ready, she traded it to me with strict instructions to only sell it to Miss Liz Mailly. So you see why I must be certain, Mr. Bratcher. Are you sure your bride is the right Mailly lady? I wouldn’t want to disappoint the captain’s wife by mistaking one Liz for another one. Ah, if your Elizabeth Bromont is the Liz Mailly as you claim, then you are a lucky man! Yes indeed, the luck o’ the Irish is upon you today, Mr. Bratcher!”

When the peddler finally stopped talking, Thomas wasn’t entirely sure he’d followed all the way through. But as he peered down at the quilt in the peddler’s stubby arms, he instinctively knew Liz would love such a gift. The pattern—a circle, like a ring … like a wedding ring—combined many beautiful colors and prints.

“It’s perfect,” he told the peddler, and the little man cackled with excitement. “I will take it, and one more thing. Do you have a gold wedding ring?” Thomas asked, hoping that the Irish luck the man had spoken about still smiled down on him.

“No, but I do have a sterling silver one I think you will like. It’s a very unique design,” the peddler said as he retrieved a small box that held the ring and a few other pieces of jewelry.

Amazed at the inventory the man had tucked away and hanging in every nook and cranny of his wagon, Thomas’s heart thumped out the seconds while Skelly plucked out the ring and placed it in his palm. When he displayed it dramatically in his outstretched hand, Thomas pondered its intricate design. It wasn’t quite what he had in mind, but the ring was very pretty and Thomas thought it would fit Liz’s small finger. He took it from the peddler cautiously and placed it on his own pinkie finger for a closer look.

“Looks like I owe you some money, Mr. Skelly. How much am I in for?” Thomas asked as he admired the ring.

“Are you trading or buying today?”

Thomas placed the ring into his vest pocket and pulled out a shiny gold coin. “Will this be fair?” he asked as the sun glinted off the piece of gold.

“More than fair, Mr. Bratcher. It has been an honor to do business with you.”

“Load up and I will take you into town to meet the women where you can deliver the letter personally. I bet they might even invite you to stay for supper,” Thomas told the old Irishman. “And remember … what I bought today is a secret … no telling.”

The man, happy as a leprechaun—and looking a little like one too in that odd green suit—climbed up to his wagon and placed his finger over his mouth to let Thomas know that he wouldn’t tell the secret.

Thomas folded the quilt carefully and put it back inside the bag, tying it to the horn of his saddle. After securing the horse’s reins, he climbed up to the wagon and sat beside Skelly. With the quilt secure and the ring tucked inside his pocket, they were ready to go. Thomas gave a quick pat to the pocket that hid the ring.

It was hard to talk to the peddler as they traveled together into town because the wagon made so much noise from all the clamor and clanging of all the items suspended from pegs and nails inside. It wasn’t far though, and soon they approached the edge of the community.

“This way,” Thomas said, and soon they stopped at the foot of the steps to the Mailly mercantile.

Liz came to the doorway to see what the noise all about, a dust cloth in her hand and a thick braid loosely dangling down her back. She wore an earthy brown calico dress with small flowers and random dots scattered across the cloth, and the apron she donned over it boasted a dark tan checkered pattern with little flower branches. Thomas thought she looked very pretty with tendrils of blonde hair springing from her braid and framing her flushed checks.

“Hello there!” she greeted him with a smile. “Who’s your friend?”

“I think he will be your friend too, after you see what he brought you,” Thomas answered. “He has a letter for you!”

Liz grinned and bounded across the threshold of the store.

Thomas made the introductions and, as predicted, Liz invited Skelly to stay for supper. After accepting her invitation, Megan and her cousins appeared out of nowhere and looked over Liz’s shoulder as she opened the letter.

“Thank you, Mr. Skelly. It is an unexpected pleasure to have a letter from friends. Will you be going back that way?” Liz asked. “We’ll write one for you to take back to her when your travels take you that way.”

“Sooner or later, I always make it back to Fort Polk. I’ll be happy to take her your letter.” The peddler pulled his watch from the tight pocket at his waist.

“Why don’t you rest for a while and we’ll find you when supper is ready. Emma will finish up soon. Do you pass our way often?” Liz quizzed the peddler.

Thomas thought Liz had as many questions as the peddler did!

“No, not really, but if the place becomes stable and settled, I’ll return as often as you’d like, m’lady.” He paused and looked at her storefront. “Looks like you could use some glass windows for your new business.”

“Yes, I hope to have some sent our way with the first load of freight.” Liz looked at the empty door and window frames that needed glass.

“If you like small windowpanes, I have them on my wagon now. I think I have enough windows and doors.” The peddler turned to retrieve the windows from the back of his traveling store.

Liz tucked her towel into the waist of her apron and scampered down the steps to the wagon to see what Mr. Skelly had inside.

This man has everything in that wagon of his
, Thomas thought as he peered into the back again. He wanted to inspect the window panes himself since he knew that he would be the one installing them.

Liz looked them over and Thomas nodded his approval.

“Yes, we will take them all. What do I owe you, Mr. Skelly?”

T
he sun came up that Sunday sending a message of hope and peace to Liz’s new world. She and the others had had a good night’s sleep and felt well rested for the first time since they’d left Lecompte.

Liz needed to adjust to one of her new dresses, as well as to her new relationship with Thomas. She felt much better about things that morning, and had decided overnight that it was a good choice to marry Thomas. He was her friend as well as a good man who had loved her for a long time. She’d awoken with a new resolve, she was even looking forward to settling into her new relationship as Thomas’s soon-to-be wife. And seeing Thomas’s excitement about it endeared him even more to her heart.

The other Mailly women wore dresses that had been packed away for months. Her sister and both of her cousins behaved as if they’d just purchased them that morning. The day had finally arrived when the family would attend church together and enjoy a whole day of festivities afterward. It was a short stroll to the church and the ladies chatted with anticipation as they walked part of the way on the wood sidewalk and then crossed the dirt street. They stepped along a patted-down trail created by many others before them on their way to church or the pastor’s home.

“I can’t stop thinking of all the school children who will be taking this same path to our classroom,” Abby told them.

“You’ll probably meet a lot of them today,” Emma pointed out.

“I hope I make a good impression,” she replied, suddenly pensive.

“Of course you will,” Liz reassured her. “You look lovely in that dress.”

“Do I?” Abby asked, and all three of them confirmed Liz’s encouragement. “You don’t think we dressed up too much, do you?” Megan asked Liz in a hushed voice.

Liz shook her head and smiled. “I think most will just have on their best cotton dresses and newest bonnets.”

Liz didn’t tell them that she’d already noticed that their bonnets seemed nicer than most she’d seen, but Megan seemed to sense her reluctance.

“I just don’t want to seem unapproachable,” she whispered.

“You think we’re unapproachable?” Abby exclaimed.

“Not at all,” Liz said as they reached the curve in the path leading to the church.

“I just don’t want to appear uppity,” Megan said, “but I want everyone to be sure to see what lovely dresses I can make for them or teach them how to make on their own.” She stopped and planted her feet. “Maybe we can go back and take our layers of petticoats off so that our dresses appear less fancy.”

“The good book said to wear our best to worship the King,” Liz pointed out. “And that’s what we’re here to do, above anything else. Now let’s lift our heads up and walk into the church together, remembering why we came.”

“Good morning, don’t you all look lovely,” Anna complimented the women as they filed up the path toward her. “Come and meet some of the others.”

“We were about to turn around and go back home,” Megan said to Anna, and Liz shushed her with a soft jab to the arm.

“Why? Is something wrong?” Anna asked.

“We’re afraid that we’re overdressed and want to make the proper first impression with the townspeople and Abby’s students,” Megan told her anyway.

“You look very nice. Don’t worry. I think they’re expecting you to be a little more cultured than we are. Word has spread like a wildfire that you’re here and that all of you are exactly what Fort Worth needed.”