THE PATH TO A PROMISE Chapters 17 & 18

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

Olive’s spirits soared when she received a letter from Lizzie. She ran to the house anticipating what it said. Tearing the envelope open, she pulled money and a sheet of paper free. Her eyes scanned the words written on the page. What news did Sister have? Was she having fun in the city? Olive was sure Lizzie was having a ball — and she deserved it. After all Lizzie had gone through, happiness should be number one in her life now!

Her eyes scanned the page. 

August 1912

"Dear Sister, Oh, we are having fun here in this big city! I love walking down the streets and looking at all the buildings, so tall and huge! William and his brothers work at the Bullfrog Mine. We know Henry lives in an apartment on Wall Street and he works at the Junge Bakery. I have a job at the New Method Laundry. William wants me to stay here with Mary Jane. Sister, I have decided to stay because of the job. Why don't you come to Joplin — Mary Jane has plenty of room in her big house. There are jobs galore here in the city! And oh my, you’ll never guess what has happened! William asked me to marry him! And I’m going to! How is Clara Mae? Is she being a little angel? "

Olive stopped reading. Lizzie was working at the New Method Laundry on Joplin Street. She enclosed twenty dollars for her mother and father. Lizzie was having a grand old time in Joplin, that city of sin. And she was going to marry William.

How would she ever get along without her sister? Lizzie was too important to her. Olive pushed the dismay away and formed a plan. She would have to go to Joplin, too. And that would work out because she would get a job and make money. Maybe Mama and Pa would keep Peter until she was ready to take him with her.

Folding the letter, she lay it aside and thought about Lizzie. She was gone and it was all because of William Madison. Men! They were nothing but downright sneaky skunks who played with women’s hearts and broke them plumb in two. And Lizzie knew that! What was wrong with her?

Olive recognized the jealousy eating at her and she quickly asked for forgiveness for that unkind thought.

When she found her parents, she handed them the money from Lizzie, and she finished reading the letter to them.

“William’s brother, Charley, went to Cushing, Oklahoma, to the Drumright oil field. He's hoping to get a good job down there. My friend, Virginia, works at the Connor Hotel on Fourth and Main Streets. They just opened the rooftop garden, and they had a gala! An orchestra entertained guests, and the food was unbelievable. Of course, William and I attended, and the place was overflowing. They served fruit out of watermelons carved like battleships. They even included one watermelon to resemble the Titanic. In a few weeks, we will get married at the church.”

Bud and Nancy took the money, astounded to receive such an amount. Farming and working the timber kept food on the table and clothes and shoes for the family, but it did not allow much more. There was never any extravagance.

"This is good news. Lizzie is working, and she's getting married again." Nancy's voice held happiness.

"And William Madison is a good man from a good family," Bud added, rocking in his chair.

Nancy agreed. "Yes. I miss our daughter, but she's making a new life, and after what she's been through, she deserves it."

Just then, Clara, Mae, and Peter ran through the house. Both were covered with grime from their hair to their feet. Clara's curls bounced as she led the toddling two-year-old. Peter's toothy grin was ringed with dirt, and his chubby legs wobbled with uncertainty.

“What in the world?” Olive jumped up in horror.

“We’ve been playing house. We made mud pies, Aunt Olive,” Clara Mae announced. Then, to Peter, she said, “And you liked eating them, didn’t you?”

Peter nodded and grinned, the gritty dirt clung to his little teeth, making him look like a jack-o-lantern. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a giant fishing worm and dangled it toward his mother. “Wom!” His blue eyes twinkled.

Bud and Nancy roared with laughter, but Olive didn’t think it was funny. “Now you’re in for a bath, young man!”

“I think it’s time you both got new shoes,” Nancy told the two children. “Clara Mae, your mother sent us some money. We’ll go to town next week and buy you a new pair. You’ll be going to school when the term starts again.”

Clara Mae’s blue eyes lit up, and she clapped her chubby hands. Looking at Peter, she declared, “Did you hear that, Cousin? I’m going to school!”

Peter's dirty mouth pulled into a grin, and he danced precariously around the room on his unsteady, chubby feet. His cloth diaper looked full.

Olive did not laugh, nor did she smile. Embarrassment flooded her mind, and guilt stung her heart. She knew Peter needed a new pair of shoes; by fall, he would need new britches. He grew out of his clothes faster than she could keep him in them. She could not allow the money her sister had sent for Clara Mae to help pay for anything for her son. And Henry hadn't given her a dime, nor had he seen Peter since his birth. She couldn't rely on Henry for help.

She looked at the floor, shame creeping up the back of her neck. Swallowing, she made her way to the bedroom. She had to do something. She had to take responsibility for Peter and give him what he needed. She could no longer stay here with her parents and live off their generosity.

Henry’s face floated before her. Boiling over, she kicked the stool and cursed his name in silence. It was his fault. Plain and simple. He ruined her life. Now, she was left with a son to raise and provide for.

 ***

The summer went by, and on November 19, Lizzie married William Madison in the United Brethren Church in Kings Valley.

 Olive’s feelings were mixed. She was happy for Lizzie, but again she worried. What if William did to Lizzie what Henry had done to her? And Lizzie was leaving her little girl behind. She pushed the dread away and pretended to be happy.

The ceremony was small and quick. William had to return to the mine in Joplin. After the ceremony, they left Brooming County with a promise that Olive would hear from her soon.

 Joplin, Missouri

Lizzie let out a whoop of joy and smiled from ear to ear. She found a job for Olive. When Mr. Bean agreed to hire, Olive sight unseen, Lizzie promised that her sister was a hard worker and a quick learner. Olive would work as a maid at the magnificent Connor Hotel on Main Street.

Lizzie thought about her mother. Nancy taught her children to cook, clean the house, take care of the children, and perform chores around the farm. Yes, the Johnson girls had job skills. Why, if the occasion arose, they might just be able to deliver a baby!

Lizzie smiled. Her mother was known everywhere for caring for the sick and birthing babies. Whenever the doctor was unavailable, Nancy went to the homes of those who were ill or when a baby was coming. Her midwifery skills were exceptional, and most women preferred having another woman caring for them in such delicate situations.

Reminiscing about her mother made her think of Clara Mae. In a month, she would be seven years old. The last time she saw Clara at the wedding, she wore a long blonde braid that snaked down her back. She was pudgy, with a full face and little bags under her eyes. She still wore much of her baby fat, but her teeth were white and straight.

Clara Mae was a tomboy. She liked wearing pants and shirts or overalls. When questioned about wearing boys’ pants, Clara Mae quickly answered that pants made it easier to climb trees.

Lizzie smiled at the memories of her little girl. Maybe she would bring Clara Mae to live with her and William in Joplin soon. She would speak with William tonight when he came home from the mines.

For now, it was time to let Olive know the good news. If telephone wires existed down in the hills and hollows, she could pick up the receiver and make a call. But the cables hadn’t reached that part of the country yet. Lizzie sat down at the oak writing desk and pulled down the top. She glanced at the assortment of writing paper and postcards filling the pigeonholes of the desk. Mary Jane loved corresponding with family and friends and always kept a nice collection of writing materials available.

This was a joyous occasion, so Lizzie chose purple violets and a green vine framing the paper. With pen in hand, she began the letter. 

"Dear Sister, I have secured a job for you! Mary Jane said you would stay with us until you find a place. Mr. Bean offered you a maid’s job at the Conner Hotel. You can send home money to Mama and Pa to take care of Peter. William agrees that it’s the thing to do. Oh! You’ll love the city, Sister! We’ll take you to Electric Park. They have loads of events going on all the time. We can take the trolley anywhere you want to go. We can shop at Newman’s Millinery, Ramsey’s, and Chrisman's Dry Goods.

“They have the latest clothes, shoes, bags, and hats. And we’ll stop in at a drugstore. You'll think you're in heaven once you taste a soda! William is doing well in the mines. I’m still helping wash and iron clothes at the steam laundry. But I have a friend, Adeline, who is a Hello Girl for Bell Telephone Company. She will let me know when they need another girl over there. Another friend, Martha, is a nurse at St. John’s Hospital. They always need help. The possibilities of jobs are endless in the city.

William says we’ll pick you up at Union Station. We live not far from there. Let me know as soon as you can, my Dear Sister. I love you. I’m sending ten dollars to Mama and Pa. And kiss my lovely girl for me. Tell her I love her dearly and may come for her soon so she can live with us here in Joplin.”

                                                                   ***

Olive reread the letter three times and put it in her yellow day dress pocket. Taking the money, she went to tell her mother about the good news. At least to her, it was good news. How would her mother take it? And Pa, too! Joplin seemed to be a hundred miles away. In reality, it was about forty miles northwest. Good news or bad, it was an answer to her prayers. She had a job waiting for her.

She clutched the money, wishing it were hers. Pride rose as she thought of taking care of herself and Peter. She would never rely on a man again! Men were snakes in the grass waiting for a woman to mosey along so they could strike their fangs into them. Disgust for Henry Winters lay heavy in her heart.

Shaking her head and looking out across the fields and orchards, she decided to stop feeling sorry for herself. That was getting her nowhere. Life was too short to moan and groan about situations you could do nothing about. She believed God would answer her prayers, but only in His timing. She had to live life one day at a time.

Olive found her mother baking biscuits in the kitchen. Nancy Johnson was a petite woman with coal-black hair pulled tightly in a bun. Not a wisp escaped the confines of the shell hairpins. Her bony face usually wore a severe expression. Thick, heavy brows framed her eyes.

She pulled up short next to Nancy, watched her kneading the dough, and then lay the money on the counter. Heat climbed over Olive’s face. She did not want to hurt her mother, but she had to share her decision.

 “I know how we’ve felt about Joplin, but Lizzie told me enough about the town that I’ve changed my mind and I’m going to see Lizzie. Bad things happen all over the place. Shoot, bad things happen right here! And if Lizzie’s happy living in Joplin, then it can’t be too bad.” She waited for her mother’s reaction.

Nancy stayed silent. Her mouth was set in a firm line. Then she sighed. “Read the letter to me again.”

Olive read the letter, glancing now and then at her mother, trying to second-guess her thoughts. But Nancy did not indicate what she was thinking. Instead, she rolled the biscuit dough and cut circles, laying them in a greased pan.

“What you gonna do, Child?”

Olive looked around the comfortable kitchen. She would miss living here. She watched through the window as smoke curled from the chimney pipe sticking out of the roof of the smokehouse. Papa was smoking the hogs he had just butchered. Fat hens pecked at the ground over by the henhouse. She called this place home.

The pain inside her burned bright. Reality caused war within. She had to do something! She must be responsible. By going to Joplin, she would escape the hurt and pain the gossip had caused. However, the rumors were slowly dying out now. Olive looked at her mother. “Mama, I need to make money. And the only way I’ll do that is to go to Joplin. Joplin has so much more to offer.”

Nancy conceded. “If you need to follow Lizzie, then you have my blessing. But I want you to know that we are not making you go. You can stay here as long as you need to. We’ll keep Peter here like we’re keeping Clara Mae.”

“Oh, thank you, Mama! I’m praying about it all tonight. Then I’ll write Lizzie and tell her I’ll join her as soon as I can get up there.”

Her mother smiled. “Ask your Pa to check on the train schedule for Joplin when he goes to Wheatland. He can buy a ticket for you.” Nancy’s smile faded. “I have faith in you but listen to me. I expect you to live right and remember the Bible’s ways. Don’t let anyone tell you the big city is safe. We’ve heard how rough it is up there. The gambling, the liquor, and the ill repute. If you have troubles, you get your backside back here where you are safe. You understand?”

Bud was sitting on a stump close to the smokehouse door, where warmth from the fire inside helped warm his bones. He whittled on a piece of pine wood. His long legs were crossed, and his overalls rode up his legs, showing the worn brown work boots he always wore, no matter the weather.

He looked up when Olive approached. His knife stopped on the wood, and he smiled. “Time to eat? I’m hungry.” His long white mustache bobbed with his words. He tipped his hat back.

Olive always loved watching his mustache move whenever he spoke. It was a trademark. His face was usually stubbled, and a battered hat slouched upon his head. The fob of a watch hung from his breast pocket. A leather pouch with a flap lay beside him. In it was his collection of knives.

She plopped beside him on the ground and pulled the letter from her dress pocket. “Sister wrote to us again, Pa.”

“What’s she got to say this time?”

Olive read the letter, then announced, “I’m going to Joplin. Mama wants you to check the train schedule in Wheatland and buy me a ticket.”

Bud coughed and cleared his throat. He closed the knife, laying it and the wood aside. “I don’t want you to go. Your ma and me are taking care of you. Isn’t that enough?”

“But Pa,” she began. She started to say more, but he interrupted.

“Joplin’s too far away. Them miners, revenuers, and fancy gamblers make it a bad place, Olive.”

“I’ll be with Lizzie and William. And I’ll work. Just think of the money I can make!” As soon as the words slipped from her mouth, she regretted saying them.

“There’s more to life than money.”

That was precisely what she expected him to say. Olive swallowed, the lump in her throat felt like a goose egg. Here was the mountain she would have to cross to get to where she was going.

“A single woman in a big city isn’t what you think it will be. Besides, Lizzie’s married, and she has a husband to take care of her. You don’t.”

“I have to try it. If I fail, I’ll come home, I promise.” She watched his sharp look. Bud was not a man to cross. He was a woodman, and he had his way of living and that was that. He shook his gray head. I suppose there’s no arguing with you?”

“None.”

A gust of wind lifted the smoke from the chimney and twirled it around, pushing right in their faces. "Smoke follows beauty," Bud said, with an onery grin. Reaching down, he opened the leather pouch. Fiddling with the contents, he placed a folding jack knife in her hand. “Take this with you. You know how to use it. Don’t hesitate if the need arises.”

“Pa, I can’t take your favorite knife!”

“Bring it back to me when you get tired of living in the big city.”

Love bloomed in her chest and spread as tiny goose bumps pricked her arms. “Thanks, Pa,” Olive squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’ll go help Mama fix you something to eat!”

When she reached the farmhouse, she found her mother in the kitchen boiling water.

“Olive, come here.” Nancy held a white flour sack apron. It had been colored purple from pokeberry juice. Tiny stitches hemmed the edges, and a big pocket adorned the front. “Take this with you to Joplin. It will protect your dresses and remind you of me. And here's one for Lizzie."

Olive hugged it to her chest. “Oh, Mama, thank you. I’ll wear it every day.”

“Pete is still asleep; maybe you should wake him up. He won’t want to go to bed tonight if he sleeps too much.”

“Yes, I’ll go get him up.”

Olive watched her three-year-old son sleeping. The rise and fall of his little chest was steady. His eyes fluttered, and she wondered if he was dreaming. His hair was growing shaggy and needed a trim.

Clasping her hands together, she closed her eyes and smiled. How long had she stayed awake at night, weighing the pros and cons of going to the city? Although excitement bubbled inside her, the cons of what could happen pushed those thoughts aside. She must be careful day and night. She must watch what she was doing and not let anyone try to hurt her. Traveling to Joplin would be the longest distance she had ever gone.

Peter was safe with her parents, and in time she would afford a new home for them both. She would do this. She would overcome the shadows of divorce and show everyone she was serious.

Joplin would provide the freedom, friends, and financial reward she dreamed of. Looking down at her sleeping son, it would be worth it.

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

Olive marveled at the Union Station in Joplin. Coming from the hills and hollows, she had never seen such tall and elegant buildings and so much concrete in her life. She settled into living with Mary Jane until she could save enough money to find her own place.

Mary Jane’s home boasted indoor plumbing, and the kitchen was large with several windows to let the sunshine flow through the room. Tall cabinets graced the walls and there was plenty of room to cook and entertain.

Mary Jane’s friends met every Tuesday to play cards, drink wine, and talk about the books they were reading. They called it a book club, but Olive was always at work when they met and couldn’t participate.

Most days Olive rode the electric streetcar, traveling along Main Street until she reached the Connor Hotel. She quickly learned the ins and outs of cleaning services from a business standpoint, and she became a top employee. Harold Bean, her boss, was impressed with her work ethic and honest way of living. When she worked in the restaurant located inside the hotel, she gathered tip money from her hospitable, friendly manner.

Only four years old, the Connor was the largest hotel in the area. Eight stories high, Olive and the cleaning crew had their hands full and stayed busy. When she took a few minutes at rest time, her favorite place to sit was in the lobby. She marveled at the crystal chandelier, hanging high and sporting sparkling crystals. The hotel was filled with Renaissance-style murals, sculptures, and limestone friezes.

Here in Joplin, there was always something going on. The noise could be deafening depending on what event was transpiring. The city streets were always cluttered with traffic. Wagons, buggies, the streetcar, horses and mules, and an occasional automobile crowded the narrow streets. As time went on, she learned to block out the noise and stay away from areas she should not be found in. Life was certainly full.

To entertain herself while she worked, thoughts of her little boy danced in her head. Olive missed Peter and his funny antics. She envisioned his dirty little face smiling at her when he got into something he should stay out of. She could almost hear his voice calling after her and sometimes crying when she went outdoors to the outhouse or had to go to town and did not take him along. Most of all, she missed his snuggles when they lay down together to take a nap. Pride burst in her heart; Peter was the one thing Henry left her that was dear to her.

One day, shortly after Olive arrived in Joplin, Lizzie had news. “Sister, I’m going to have a baby!” A big smile graced her ruby lips as she brought her hands to her belly.

“I’m thrilled for you! William must be tickled pink! When will the baby arrive?” She stopped for a moment. “I have a million questions!”

“William is excited but frightened at the prospect of being a daddy. I told him he would be the best one in the whole world!” Her lilting voice carried on the air. Olive’s heart swelled with love at the sound of it.

“He or she should arrive in August. We are both hoping for a boy.” Lizzie sat down in a chair. “I’m going to see a doctor at St. John’s Hospital in a couple of weeks. Mama’s too far away of course.”

At that, Olive’s excitement fizzled. A bad feeling fell over her about this ordeal. She shook it off. “Well, I know you’ll take care of yourself and take no chances.”

“William and Mary Jane want me to stop working. The laundry can be quite hectic at times. I’ve been asking some of the men to help me with lifting heavy tubs. Don’t worry, it’s all going to be fine and dandy!”

A couple of weeks later, Lizzie lost the baby, and her health declined more. Lizzie's back weakened, but she didn't complain. Instead, she denied it all and she told everyone that they would be trying again to have a baby and that her health was good.

Lydia travelled back and forth to Arkansas, where Ansel Fitzhugh lived. Lizzie was her traveling companion and talked about their travels to Elm Springs, Arkansas where they enjoyed their visit with Lydia’s Grandfather Howard.

“Lydia's Grandpa Howard is rich! He lives in a beautiful little house with tapestry curtains and embroidered furniture. He doesn’t drive anymore, it's too hard to care for the horses and wagon. But there’s plenty of people helping care for him. Why, every day, he sends someone downtown to buy Coca-Cola and candy at Dickerson’s store!” Lizzie exclaimed. “And he gave her five hundred dollars for her wedding. He told her to buy a wedding dress in Eureka Springs at the Hammontree Dress Shop.”

“Why in Eureka Springs?” Olive scrunched up her face.

“The parents of the shop owner, Rachel Hammontree, were close friends with Grandpa's folks. Rachel married a Eureka Springs banker, James Henry Hammontree, and moved to Eureka after the marriage. So, he wants to help Rachel in her dressmaking business.”

Olive was happy for Lydia. It was good to have money. But Pa was right, money wasn’t everything. She was thankful for a good job and people caring for her. Olive’s feelings about wicked Joplin changed after she lived there for a couple of months. Of course, there were places in the city that she did not dare visit. The infamous saloons, especially the House of Lords, were no place to be seen.

 ***

When the day arrived for Lydia to order a wedding dress, she asked Olive to go with her and Lizzie. “Do come with us, Olive,” Lydia pleaded. “You need to get out of here and have fun.”

So, Olive went to Arkansas. The train ride was exhilarating as it chugged through the Boston Mountains in the northwestern part of the state. Eureka Springs was known for its healing waters and had quite a history. Years ago, the town prospered and built bathhouses for guests to come and experience the healing properties of the springs. As time progressed, however, the “healing” notoriety had lost its appeal to many folks, but that did not deter the growth of the Arkansas town.

On the journey, Lydia told Lizzie and Olive all about the area. The Crescent Hotel, once a grand palace boasting of over 200 rooms, was now the Crescent College and Conservatory for Young Women.

 “Claretta’s cousin Lillian attends the college due to her parents’ insistence.” Lydia’s mouth curled into a little bud. “But Lillian isn’t happy with her parents’ decision.”

Her face brightened as if she was harboring a huge secret. “They have the strictest rules and requirements there. The girls must wear navy serge uniforms and there is to be no correspondence outside the school unless it is pre-approved by her parents and the principal. She hates that the most.”

Olive frowned. “It sounds like a prison to me.”

Lizzie and Lydia agreed. The train whistle foretold their arrival in the city and once they were off the train, they hired a hack to take them to the dress shop on Main Street. The hack deposited them in front of the dress shop and pulled away into traffic. The girls marveled at two window displays that appeared on each side of the entrance door of the shop. The wide glass windows featured a feast for the eyes and showed off the handiwork of Mrs. Rachel Hammontree.

On the left side, a cream lace wedding gown and veil, a trousseau, a house dress, a traveling suit, and shoes, hats, and handbags adorned the array of offerings inside the shop. The right window showed off a tea gown of blue taffeta, afternoon dresses made from gingham, Sunday best clothing along with a selection of thread, sewing needles and thimbles, and an assortment of lace.

“How could you possibly choose a dress when there are so many?” Lizzie exclaimed as she took in the display like a child looking into a candy shop. She pressed her nose close to the glass.

Lydia chuckled. “Since this is my second marriage, I see no need to buy an elaborate dress. Mother and I discussed it, and a simple one will do. And we won’t have a big wedding, just family and a few friends. And…cake!”

Olive stood close to her sister, peering intently at the peachy cream-colored satin and lace wedding dress. She loved the lines of the dress and the way the lace draped over the skirt. The fitted bodice was sleek with a high neckline trimmed in matching lace. Long sheer sleeves completed the look.

“You're peering very closely at that dress, what are you thinking about Olive?” Lizzie asked, elbowing her sister in the ribs.

Olive batted her eyelashes, looking at Lizzie and Lydia. She feared her face told them what she was thinking. Pink colored her cheeks, and she cleared her throat, “I'm thinking how well-made that gown is.”

Lydia’s dark eyes danced behind her spectacles, and she laid her hand on Olive’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside and meet the Hammontrees.”

The bell over the door announced their arrival. Pink, red, and cream cabbage rose wallpaper covered the walls. Comfortable chairs and a settee with cream and dark green satin cushions waited for guests.

Vases of fresh flowers adorned the tables. Along one wall was an open window. The girls heard voices from the other room. The jagged, whirring sound of sewing machines filled the air. A bamboo folding screen stood in a corner of the room. A side table offering ladies' magazines awaited shoppers near the chairs.

A woman appeared from the room beyond the open window; her dark hair was pulled and pinned into a knot on her head. She wore a dark brown skirt and white shirtwaist and carried a piece of linen fabric. Seeing the girls, she smiled and offered her free hand. “Good morning, you must be Lydia. I’m Rachel Hammontree.”

Lydia extended her gloved hand, introduced herself along with Lizzie and Olive, and told Mrs. Hammontree what she needed. "I'm getting married in two weeks, is that enough time for you to sew a dress?"

Rachel’s green almond-shaped eyes and cheery mouth made her ivory face quite friendly. “Yes, Claretta told me you needed a marriage trousseau, also, and I'll have everything ready for you in the nick of time.”

A tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed girl walked into the room. Claretta Hammontree had an aura that piqued her curiosity. “Lydia, how wonderful to see you again! And you’ve brought friends with you.” Her voice reminded Olive of tinkling bells swaying in the wind.

After Lydia introduced Lizzie and Olive, Lydia got down to business. Mrs. Hammontree offered various dresses and gowns, bringing out swatches of fabrics and colors and a book with dress patterns. “Most of these are not my creation,” Rachel admitted. “If you’d like to see what I offer, here is my album.”

Lydia thumbed through the pages of the album, admiring all the dresses. “You are quite skilled.”

“Thank you. I learned dressmaking from my mother and grandmother. They were professionals back in Tennessee. Mama was deaf, so she learned to communicate through drawings. When her mother realized how well she could draw, they sent her to study with a seamstress who taught her everything in designing and sewing women’s fashions.”

Lydia decided upon a simple gown of peach satin with an overlay of lace. Claretta offered to find shoes to match the dress.

“Oh, how fun to be able to shop for you!” Claretta squealed and clapped her hands. Her dark hair fell in waves below her shoulders. “Mama made this dress for me just a couple of weeks ago. Do you like it?”

When she spun around, the yellow taffeta trimmed in gold thread swirled about her ankles. The dress had the latest style, with puffed sleeves ending at her elbows.

The girls agreed they loved the dress and Claretta asked, “Please stay for supper tonight; surely you don’t have to return to Joplin so soon?”

“I’m afraid this is a quick trip. But you’ve been so helpful, and I think my mother and grandfather will be pleased with my choice,” Lydia explained. "By the way, do you think you can attend my wedding?"

"I'll speak to Edward about it and let you know,” Claretta answered.

At that moment, the door opened, and three men entered. Dirty trousers and work shirts streaked with grime covered their work clothes. Hats were slouched on their heads, and thick work gloves covered their hands. Tearing their hats from their heads, one apologized when he saw the women.

“Ansel!” Lydia cried out when she saw her handsome man.

A dark complected man grinned wide. “I’m so glad to see you!” He moved to Lydia, hugging her.

“Oh Edward, I was just speaking of you,” Claretta moved to stand beside her beau. “And you three are just in time for lunch. Grace made fresh bread, and she warmed the soup a few minutes ago.”

Edward Brier removed his gloves, grinned at his fiancé, and worried the brim of his hat. “We were afraid we might be early, but we’re hungry, so we decided to come over anyway.” He looked at the women, a blush covering his face. “I’m sorry that we look like bums, but we’ve just come from the Road District and haven’t washed up yet.”

Mrs. Hammontree exclaimed, “We understand, Dear. You work so hard! You know where the washroom is.

The romantic looks Claretta and Edward gave each other embarrassed Olive. She looked away and when she did, she noticed the other man's blue eyes trained on her face. A soft gasp escaped her at his cool appraisal. A patch of light brown hair fell over his deep forehead. He grinned at her as he shoved the hair back.

Olive returned the smile and stared. She heard the others talking, but their voices sounded far away. She strained to listen to the conversation and tried to focus, but it was useless. Her thoughts were on the man. His firm mouth held a grin. A nice grin. When Lizzie touched her shoulder, she saw everyone staring at her.

“Sister?” Lizzie shook Olive’s arm a bit. "Claretta's talking to you…"

Embarrassment crept over Olive’s face and flowed down her arms. The tenderness and wonder in his expression amazed her. What in the world was happening? She felt like a great gust of wind blew through the living room. Lizzie’s touch brought her back to the moment.

Claretta held the man’s arm, speaking directly to Olive. “I was saying I want you to meet Edward’s brother, Will. He’s visiting from Kansas. Will Brier meet Olive Johnson. She’s Lizzie’s sister.”

Will Brier moved forward, holding his hat and gloves in one hand; he took Olive’s hand with the other. “Hello, Olive, it’s nice to meet you.”

She stammered a “Yes" as the warmth and strength of his touch cradled her hand in his. When he didn't immediately let go, a new awareness warmed her heart as well.

“Do you live in Eureka Springs?” he asked, gazing at her, his mouth drawn up in a crooked smile.

Olive noticed his sharp features: a long nose that portrayed strength and a sturdy jaw and that wide mouth. She liked his hair, laying neatly with an unruly piece that fell on his forehead. She wanted to reach up and push it back in place for him.

A faint tremor laced Olive’s voice. "No, I’m in Joplin, Missouri.”

Will released Olive’s hand, stepping back. “Kansas and Missouri. That makes us neighbors!”

Olive just smiled. But her thoughts were centered on what a handsome neighbor he was.

Edward Brier spoke up, laughter framing his words, “This is the year for weddings, I must say! Ansel and Lydia are getting married and when our sister, Anna, found out I'm marrying Claretta, she wants to make it a double wedding!”

Edward looked at Will, “Don’t drink the water, Brother!”

Will’s face sobered for a moment. Then his blue eyes twinkled, and he looked straight at Olive. “I’ve not been thirsty until now.”

 

THE PATH TO A PROMISE Chapters 15 & 16

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

During the winter following the divorce, Olive did not see Henry, but she knew he was in Joplin. Christina told her about his argument with her and David and that he left the next day. Through the winter, Olive took in laundry for an elderly neighbor woman, but the pay was barely enough to cover her time. She couldn't charge a widow the actual cost of the job. And on bad weather days, Olive suffered. It was clear laundry wasn't a job that made a living.

Spring arrived in the new year. On a fine sunny Sunday morning, the day was gloriously warm and the sun was bright and clear. It was close to May, and flowers were growing and budding, preparing to burst into bloom for a spectacular show in the Ozarks. White pear blossoms floated on the wisp of the breeze, collecting on the grass like petals of snow. The warmer weather that April brought was welcome and anticipated. The budding trees and flowers added to the excitement of the coming summer.

When Olive entered the church house, she followed her family to the pew and sat. Rumors were circulating about her divorce, and the scandalous talk hurt her deeply. She preferred to avoid those who had decided to slander her name. Walking down the middle of the church aisle, she noticed a few gawkers.

Pastor Akehurst preached a sound sermon about Jonah and the whale. He talked about Jonah running from God because he did not think he could go to Nineveh and preach God's Word. So, God delivered a storm that threw Jonah overboard into the mouth of a whale. Pastor preached how people sometimes expect the darkness they encounter to last forever. But running away from God is never a good idea. If they keep their faith, they will be delivered into the light of God’s love and blessings in His timing.

At the end of the sermon, people milled about the room, talking, and catching up on what they had missed. Olive noticed several younger women, smirks bending their lips as they talked behind their fluttering fans. Lizzie was among the group. Olive watched her sister talking quietly and gesturing with her hands. She saw on the women’s faces their true feelings. Feelings that were not cheerful.

She straightened her back, raised her chin, and declared war. Holding Peter, he became her shield. She hugged him closely. Turning her back on the little group gathered in the north corner of the room, yet, clinging to her son, didn’t squelch the intense feelings growing inside.

When she heard her name whispered from the group of women, she felt it was time to escape. She found her parents and told them Peter wasn't feeling well and that she needed to go home. Everyone chattered about the sermon and the latest news on the ride home. The sun was high overhead, while the air was scented with the first smells of blooming shrubs and plants. The fields were green carpets as far as the eye could see.

"You're quiet," Nancy said as they climbed from the wagon. "Are you ill?"

Olive felt her face burn from the shame of divorce, and it was almost more than she could bear. In a flash, she determined never to admit that to anyone. “No, Peter was fussy, and I thought it was time to get him home.” She lied quickly, silently thanking the baby for throwing a fit at exactly the right time!

She hurried to the house and lay down with Peter for a long nap. But she didn't sleep. Gossipy people were on her mind. It was none of their business talking about her. Other people were divorced, but they acted as if she were the only one. She knew she had to stand up for herself because no one else would, nor should they. She was alone now with a child to raise. It stung and upset her that she was foolish enough to fall for Henry’s lies and deception. Would she ever get over it? It wouldn't happen around here with people gossiping about her. Now that the new year had arrived, it was time to get out and find a job. Next week she would go looking in Rocky Corners. Surely, someone needed her help.

At least she was hopeful.

***

On Thursday evening, Nancy sat at the window mending. She heard a noise and saw a horse and rider approach. The rider dismounted and climbed the steps to the front door two at a time. He kept pounding on the door until Bud opened it.

Albert Haddock stood gasping for breath and wheezing uncontrollably.

“Albert! What’s wrong?” Albert choked, blew his breath, and calmed himself enough to say, “My sister’s sick. She got bit by snakes out by the woodpile. Can Ma come quick?”

Bud and Nancy went to Minnie Winters’ home about three miles east. There, they found Minnie lying in bed, burning with fever, writhing in pain, and near delirium. Her five children gathered around her bedside.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Nancy asked her, moving to take Minnie’s hand on her own. She brushed the dark hair from the woman’s forehead and noticed the hot skin and profuse sweating. Looking at one of the children, she said, “Get some cool water and cloths, please.”

Minnie tried to speak but could not and only cried out in pain. Her oldest son, Ralph, told how Minnie was helping move wood to the house when she happened upon a copperhead nest.

“They got her, I don’t know how many times.” As he spoke, a sob escaped, and tears rolled down his face. “But I killed ‘em! I killed every one of ‘em, and there’s no more in the nest!”

Nancy spoke quietly to the thirteen-year-old, patting his shoulder, “How long ago did this happen?”

“Yesterday evenin’.”

Nancy frowned, keeping her concern hidden. She turned to the others. “Children, go in the other room, while I tend your mother.” To Evelyn, Minnie’s daughter, she said, “Child, boil some water.”

When the hot water arrived, Nancy wiped Minnie’s face and laid a cloth over her forehead. Looking at Bud, she said, “I need your knife.”

“It’s too late, isn’t it?” Bud whispered. He’d been bitten many times and knew the pain a copperhead could cause. He handed her his large pocketknife with a pearl handle.

“I’ll do my best, but it might not be good enough,” she answered. “Step outside the door while I undress her.” She pulled Minnie’s shirtwaist off and covered her with a thin blanket. Evelyn stood beside Nancy as she worked on each of the bites, one at a time.

An hour later, Minnie died. Nancy led Evelyn from the room and closed the door behind her and slumped against the wall. “It was too late.” Nancy shook her head quietly, dabbing at her eyes with her white apron.

Minnie’s parents and brother, Albert, had gathered with the five children to wait. Nancy made her way to where they sat and told them the news. Nancy hated this part of her job. Many times, she stepped in to help someone who was ill while the doctor was called or when the doctor wasn’t able to get there right away.

She cried with the family, and when Doctor Baker arrived, she relayed the story to him so he could fill out the death papers. The family assured her it was not her fault. The poison had been too much for the woman’s body. No words could stop the pain and heartache she felt for the circumstances and the children. Their father, Walter, just died last December, and now their mother. They were orphans.

“Thank you, Nancy, for coming and helping,” Minnie's mother cried. “We’re taking the children home with us tonight and making arrangements for her funeral tomorrow.”

George Hadcock shook hands with Bud. “We’ll have to get word over to David and Christina. They’ll need to know about their daughter-in-law and grandchildren."

“Yes, it’s another sad time for them and you,” Bud agreed.

Nancy and Evelyn prepared Minnie’s body for burial and left her lying in bed. Closing the door on another family death, her husband took her home.

Two days later, the Union Church filled with mourners for the funeral. One by one, people filed out the door and over to the nearby graveyard where the casket was taken. Preacher Akehurst made his usual speech about life and death and the assurance of God’s love and peace in hard times. Families must cling to the comfort, peace, and hope only Jesus Christ can provide.

Olive stood with her family during the services, listening to the dismal speech. From her left, she spotted Henry standing with his mother and father. The Winters family stood together near two giant maple trees. Olive saw that most of Henry’s brothers and sisters were gathered for the funeral.          

Henry stood close to his mother and kept his eyes looking forward. He was neat and clean and looked like he might have gained a few pounds. She figured he knew she was there because a slight smirk played about his mouth. He kept his hat pulled low. His hands clasped together in front of his black shirt.

She looked at the ground and felt the tug of a frown creasing on her face. Could this day get any worse? At the preacher’s last words, the crowd began to depart. Olive stood rigidly waiting for those around her to clear away. She didn’t want to run into Henry, especially with her head filled with mixed emotions.

David and Christina jostled Henry forward, making their way to their carriage. Henry led the way, never looking back at Olive or her family.

Just then, she overheard Camille Cadwalder speaking to her husband and another couple as they passed. “Olive Johnson is a tarnished woman. She was a poor wife for Henry Winters!" With that, Camille snickered into her gloved hands.

“Oh yes, I agree divorced women acquire a tainted perception of life,” the other woman commented.

"Henry would have been better off to marry someone other than Olive. Rose Barnes had her eye on Henry for years and hoped with all her heart to catch him for a husband. Poor Henry! Rose is a better catch than Olive is!" Camille's voice was laced with poison and contempt.

“Shush, my dear, lest someone overhear you,” Camille’s husband said, steering her quickly to the waiting carriage.

Olive closed her eyes and willed herself far away from the dismal graveyard and the peahens gossiping about her. Anger filled her when they talked about her, and not Henry, when it was Henry who unraveled their marriage! He took advantage of her to get his inheritance. They had a baby right away, and he left her alone to fend for herself. Oh, the shame! And along with it, grief that her marriage fell apart. All that was left was a child to raise. Resentment and devastation roiled in her belly. She took the shame and guilt upon her shoulders to carry.

Lizzie shook her on the shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

Olive opened her eyes to the bright sunshine pouring down around her. It was real, not a dream. Tears stung her eyes, and her shoulders felt heavy. “Yes, I’m coming,” she willed herself to answer, almost running to the wagon. On the way home, she was in thought. What had Lizzie overheard when she stood among the gossipers?

She had to get to town and find a job. And soon.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

May 1912 

That evening, Lizzie came to Olive with a basket of clothing that needed mending. “Help me, please?”

Olive took up needle and thread and stitched a small hole in the toe of a sock. Her mood was sour, and her thoughts were on the fresh gossip she overheard at the church. Why did people turn to talking about others when they should have talked to the person directly? To hurt them. To cause trouble. To feel important.

“Are you feeling okay?” Lizzie finally asked.

Olive stopped and put the needle down, fearful she might prick her finger. “No! Those old peahens are talking about me. And you know because you were there right in the middle of it!” She closed her eyes, sighing. “I’m sorry if that came out hateful!”

Lizzie drew a breath. “Forgive me, Sister, I know what they’re saying. But I did take up for you several times when I overheard their chatter.”  

Olive glared at her sister. Quickly tamping down the flare, she didn’t want to be angry. At the same time, she thought Lizzie should tell her about things such as this. “What are they saying?”

Lizzie’s left hand quickly passed in the air as if it were no big deal. “It’s the divorce. You know how people feel about it. But you're not the first woman to get a divorce. Stop thinking about it.”

“It’s always about women! What about the divorced men?"

“Sister, hold your head high. And remember, there are consequences to everything, you know."

Olive rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “There are two things I need: a job and not to live here."

“What about Peter? If you move and go to work, who will watch him?" The words were like a death toll.

Olive’s chin rose, and she batted her eyes. "I'll get a job first, save enough money, and then move out."

"Even then, who will watch him?"

The words stung her even more. "Babies!" Olive wanted to shout, rant, and rave. "Why did I ever allow Henry into my life?"

"He wanted his inheritance, Sister. The folks were on him to settle down. He picked you." Lizzie watched her sister's face.

Tears filled Olive's eyes. "If I'd only known. I hate Henry! I never want to see him again, nor any of his family! Living here is a cold reminder of them all!"

"They have a right to see your boy. Better get used to it. Children are used a lot, especially in marriage troubles."

"Well, Lizzie, I just set a goal. I'm going to find a job and better myself! I'll show everyone who I am and what I'm made of!"

"I hope you do, Sister."

They continued sewing until Olive watched her sister’s face go from downcast to filled with light. Her voice raised a bit, too. “I do have news. Lydia has invited me to Joplin. She wants me to go with her to visit her grandfather, who lives in Arkansas. Mary Jane said she would like for Lydia to have a traveling companion. I told Mother, and she will keep Clara Mae while I’m gone.”

“You’re going to Joplin?” Olive’s breath caught, dread lacing her words. Her mouth went dry. Lizzie was leaving. What if she stayed in the city? Her sister could not do this to her!

“William’s there.”

And there it was. Perhaps Lizzie made the excuse of going to be with Lydia when all along it was William that she wanted to see. William would be the reason Lizzie would stay and not come home.       

Resentment filled the quiet space of the room. She watched Lizzie hesitate and draw a big breath, and then a smile crept across her lovely face.

“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Lizzie continued darning a shirt sleeve, avoiding looking at her sister, but a smile played around her lips.

Olive let the flair of anger subside. Her spirits lifted. Lizzie made her happy, and she always laughed when she was around. She remembered noticing that Lizzie looked different lately. It dawned on her, and she figured it out. Lizzie cared about William Madison. Hope bloomed in Olive’s heart. William was a good man. They were friends. He worked hard, cared for his mother, and loved his sisters and brothers. Lizzie and William made a good match.

The thought of romance made Olive hesitate. Romance…what good was it? Certainly not good for her! And then another thought struck. Lizzie was leaving. How could she cope? She needed to think about it. Lizzie and William would get together and stay in Joplin, where William lived and worked.

I need a job, I can’t depend on my parents to support me and Peter.

Tonight, when she went to bed, she would think and think and think. 

                                                            ***

The following week, Lizzie left for Joplin to stay with Lydia. The train was on time, and William met her at the Union Depot on Main Street. Warm sunshine filled the day. Inside the station, people stood in line at the ticket counter or lounged on the navy chairs in the foyer. Uniformed baggage men pulled carts stacked high with trunks and baggage of all sizes. Families ate in the lunchroom, and couples embraced each other in greetings. Lizzie stepped off the train, looking around for William.

Someone took her elbow, and a deep voice asked, "Looking for someone, Madam?"

Lizzie turned to see William Madison, her breath catching in awe. His generous mouth lifted into a friendly smile, making his dark eyes crinkle at the corners. His tanned face was shaven and smooth, accentuating his boyish good looks. A brown hat perched on his head, covering his light hair that curled just above the collar of his tweed jacket. His hand tightened on her elbow.

"I was, but he found me."

"I sure did." William's words held meaning. " I couldn't miss such a beauty like you, Lizzie Winters!"

Lizzie's cheeks flamed, and a happy smile lit her face. She couldn't remember when she felt so happy, not since Dan was still alive. Clara Mae brought her joy, but William Madison, standing before her, offered something more fulfilling deep in her soul. She didn't want to move. Staring at this handsome friend was all she would ever need. At that moment, she knew she was lonely.

She needed someone.

William was that someone.

"Are you hungry? We can eat in the lunchroom."

"I can wait," Lizzie answered. "I might use the restroom before we leave."

William pointed the way. "I have to get your bags. Wait here at a table for me if I'm not here when you’re finished."

A few minutes later, Lizzie found William waiting with her baggage. "Ready?"

"I'm ready to see your Mama," she told him, a huge smile hugging her mouth.

"Follow me." He guided them through the crowded terminal, passing through a grand covered entrance outdoors. "They call this a Port Cochere. Do you know French?"

"Oui," she said, smiling. Shaking her head, she admitted, "That's the only word I know, I'm sad to say." She looked up at the architecture, and her breath caught. "I've never seen anything so magnificent, William!" Her eyes were round as the noonday sun.

William laughed. "They certainly poured creativity into Union Station. The concrete has mine tailings added to it, you know, leftover stuff from the digs. The whole structure is fireproof. When you go home, we'll come a bit early so you can tour the place, and we can eat in the lunchroom." He found their wagon and placed her baggage into the back.

Lizzie wasn't sure when she planned to return home. It all depended on Lydia and her travels. William's dazzling smile might change her mind. His curly hair threatened to fall from its place under the brown Fedora that perched jauntily on his head.

"Yes, I'm ready." She wanted to reach out and touch the curls. Instead, she smiled and enjoyed the landscape of Joplin.

William lifted her onto the seat, climbed beside her, and started the chestnut horse moving along. Lizzie caught sight of the enormous depot's arched entrance and the building sprawling out on both sides with wings, one to the north and one to the south. The stately columns and ornate architecture were gorgeous.

Once they left the train station, William turned onto First Street. They drove a ways down Fourth Street. Electric light poles and streetlamps with round globes stood like sentinels on both sides of the streets. Rows of brick buildings, some taller than others, lined the street.

William turned south and headed toward Byers Avenue, where they passed magnificent homes. The streets were full of traffic and people. At Byers, William stopped at a framed two-story home. Pulling into the carriage house, William stopped the horse. A cupola with vented sides squatted on the roof, a weathervane of a fishing boy whirled with the breeze.

William helped Lizzie down from the wagon, went around, and brought her bags. "This is home. Mother bought it after Father died in the accident. As you can imagine, it served us well with all the kids living with her. One by one, they've married off. It's just her and me now. Oh, Lydia is here."

"Yes, Lydia told me in her letter."

Lizzie was surprised to see a grand house, two stories tall with a slate roof and a big front porch running the entire length. She gazed at the ten stone steps to the porch and marveled at the heavy oak front door with a beveled glass window. Once inside the entrance hall, hardwood floors gleamed and matched the oak-paneled walls. Transoms perched above the doorways opened to allow the breeze to flow through the rooms.

Just then, Lydia came through the double doors and squealed. "Lizzie! It's so good to see you!" Grabbing Lizzie's arm, Lydia led her into the living room. Double doors led into a dining room, and the kitchen was beyond.

Always happy, Lydia called to her mother, who was in the kitchen.

"I'll take care of Old Boy, while you ladies catch up." William left them alone.

Sugar cookie scents followed Mary Jane, who met them carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade, glasses, and a plate of cookies.

 "Darling, you've arrived. How was your trip?"

Lizzie told them about the train trip and the grand train station. As they were discussing the news from back home, William put her bags upstairs in a guest bedroom and joined them, sitting next to Lizzie on the divan. Apricot-colored walls and lace curtains at the long windows set a nice scene. Dark mahogany furniture was scattered across the large room. A hooked rug covered part of the floor in front of them.

"I'll show you the house tonight. Do you want to freshen up or wait?" William asked Lizzie.

"I can wait for now. I'm amazed at the city!" Her face portrayed her feelings.

"We'll go shopping and eat at one of the restaurants soon," Lydia said. "Grandfather is expecting us in a few days."

"I must write and tell Olive all about this."

"Has she found a job? If not, we can look in the newspaper for ads. Businesses are always hiring help."

Lizzie shook her head. "No, she hasn't found anything. But you know how hard it is in the hills and hollows. And now she has Peter to look after."

William patted her hand. "I saw Henry a week or so ago. He's working at the Junge Bakery. He doesn't like the gritty, dusty work of the mines." He shook his head and chuckled. "It's not the kind of work for everyone. But, for me, I like the money."

Mary Jane added. "Thank you, Son, for always shaking out your clothes before I wash them!"

William responded with a smile.

"Henry's not fond of work at all!" Lizzie laughed. "He was with his folks at his sister-in-law's funeral. He stuck close to David's side."

"He's not been here since his son was born. I'm sorry that he and Olive’s marriage ended," Mary Jane said, as she sipped her glass of lemonade.

Lizzie told them about the divorce gossip and how it affected Olive.

Lydia had an idea. "Maybe we can find her a job. Would she come to Joplin?"

"I don't know, but I like that idea. While we're at it, I can find a job, too."

The next day, William went to work at the Bullfrog Mine. Dressed in old clothes and a khaki-colored canvas miner's cap on his head, he held a lunch bucket. "I'll be home sometime tonight. He kissed the women's cheeks and went out the door.

Lydia and Lizzie looked through the Joplin Globe newspaper for jobs. Lizzie decided to answer an ad for the New Method Laundry on Joplin Street, not far from Mary Jane's house. When she inquired, Mr. Neil hired her. She would start after she returned from Arkansas.

Lizzie wrote to Olive, telling her about the adventures Joplin offered. With high hopes, she prayed Olive would join her in the big city of Joplin, Missouri.

 

THE PATH TO A PROMISE Chapters 13 & 14

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 Joplin, Missouri, Thanksgiving Day 1910 

“William, I’m going home,” Henry said. He puffed cigarette smoke into the air. “It being Thanksgiving.”

William Madison crushed his smoke with his shoe. He lounged on the wood railing of the wide front porch. “You sure?”

Henry stared back at his brown-haired, blue-eyed friend sitting with him on the porch. William’s brown tweed coat, linen trousers rolled up one roll to display white socks, set off his brown leather shoes. A fine hat topped William's head in a jaunty display of good fashion. From top to bottom, William Madison had a fashion style to match even the best dressed in Joplin.

Henry marveled at his friend. How could anyone be so suave and debonair in the early in the morning? William Madison could! He was every bit a hard worker and spent his money on the things he valued, which his mother was one. Henry witnessed William caring for his mother every day. He helped her with anything and everything she needed. William was a good son.

Henry burned with shame. He had more than likely made his wife madder than a wet hen and his parents probably disowned him. At least he had his inheritance and owned a parcel of land! What got into him to take off and wander around here and there all the time? This time, being gone, was not a good situation. He was married and Olive was set to have the baby any time now. For all he knew, the baby was already in the world.

He looked at William again. They had been friends for years. They grew up together down in the hills and hollows of Rocky Corners. Even though they shared common interests, William valued men’s fashion as something to behold and mimic and work hard to get. Henry never gave it much thought. And work was drudgery.

“You look like you’re dressed to go somewhere.” Henry’s voice was cool. He wished he had the same style. If he looked nice and smelled even better, Olive might come closer to forgiving him.

William looked down at his attire, scoffing, “These old things? Nah, I just threw them on this morning. Wanted to look nice for the day; you know Mother holds Thanksgiving Day as a sacred time.” His look changed as the color lit his cheeks. “I’m sorry for saying that! I don’t mean to say…”

Henry’s face burned at the truth. He held up his hand. “No offense taken. I’m just wondering if I’m a father yet. I think she told me it was around Thanksgiving. My folks feel the same way your mother does.” He let out a deep breath, “If I start in the next few minutes, I can be home before nightfall.”

“You’ll miss Mother’s good cooking,” William teased. “I know you need to go home, but you’re always welcome here, you hear me? Now get on out of here and tell everyone hello."

Henry stood up, shaking out the stiffness from the early morning chill in the air. “I’ve got quite a bit of money saved up from the jobs I’ve done.” He stuck his hand out to his friend, “Thank you for putting me up. I left a little cash on the table for your mother.”

William stood alongside his friend. “Let me know when you’re a daddy.” His eyes clouded over, and he glanced down at the porch floor. Without looking up, he asked, “Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” Henry answered. At this point, he knew he owed his friend a lot of favors. He had an idea what the favor was but waited for William to speak.

“When you see Lizzie tell her that I miss her. Ask her if she might write to me and I’ll write her back. I’ll get down to see her as soon as I can.”

Henry grinned and slapped William’s shoulder. “I’ll surely do that. You got eyes for Lizzie, don’t ya?”

William admitted, “She makes my heart do strange things. No girl has ever made me feel like she does. I want to see her more.”

“I’ll tell her that.”

“No!” William came off the porch railing as if his pants were set afire. “Don’t tell her anything like that!”

Henry reared back laughing. “You told me to tell her…”

William’s brow went up in defense and his square jaw tensed. He stepped toward Henry.Promise me you won’t…”

Henry brought up an arm. “You know I’m just ribbin’ you. I’ll keep it low key. Why don’t you come with me? See Lizzie yourself.”

William thought for a minute, then declined the invitation. “I’ll come another time. After you make amends with your family.”

He watched his best friend leave. 

***

It was early evening when Henry approached the Johnson farm and tied his horse to the post. The November sun was sinking fast, lighting the western sky afire. Looking about the yard, no one appeared. Lights were a soft glow in the windows of the house. The old cur dog, aged into sleepiness, lay on the front porch beating his tail on the wood floor.

Henry made his way to the porch, and mid-step, he stopped.

Bud came around the corner of the chicken coop. “What in tarnation are you doing here?”

Yep, there it was. Anger. Henry thought before he spoke. “I’ve come to talk to my wife.” He stood tall, feet apart, hands by his side. Determination fueled him.

Bud’s voice was steady and low. “She wants nothing to do with you.” His hands balled into fists.

An owl whooped a lonesome hoot somewhere in the cedar grove. The evening light was fading fast, and darkness would invade the hollow. With the coming of night, the air grew chillier, a whisper of rain swept through the grove of trees.

“I want to hear it from her.”

“You’ll be real smart to get on your horse and get outta here.”

Henry shook his black head. “Not going anywhere old man.”

Ben came up beside his father. “Watch your mouth, Henry.”

Bud drew himself up to his full six feet two inches, his eyes like the fire in the sky. To Ben, he said, “I can handle this. Maybe you oughta go inside and check on the women folk.”

But Ben stayed where he was.

Bud continued. “You’re going to play by Olive’s rules now. No more running in and out of her life with nary a care for what it’s doing to her. You’re going to give my daughter a divorce, or you’ll be deep in misery.”

Henry looked at the house and saw a shadow at the front window. His insides felt like a Missouri thunderstorm. “Is that a threat?”

“Not a threat, but a promise.”

Both men stared at each other.

“You’ve caused my girl a heap of misery, Winters. Now it’s your turn.”

Henry huffed, pulled his shoulders back, and held his ground. The old man had no idea how he felt. And Bud’s anger didn’t bother him. He thought it comical as the older man’s bushy brows rose high like the bluffs at Horseshoe Bend. He saw complete contempt.

“We gave our consent so you could marry our daughter. And ever since that day, you’ve made me wish otherwise. She wants a divorce and you’re going to tuck your tail and run for the hills.”

Henry started to answer, but Bud held up his hand. “No more talk. Get out of here before I throw you off this land. I don’t want to ever see your face or hear your voice again. I’m gonna make sure my daughter and grandson are safe.”

The front door opened, and Lizzie came out to stand on the porch. She yelled, “Olive wants to know why you’re here.”

Henry slumped in relief. The baby! He was a father! "I’ve been working in Joplin with William and the boys.” At that moment he saw his chance and used William to buffer the chaos that threatened. “William sends his regards. He said to tell you hello and that he and Mary Jane might come soon for a visit.”

Lizzie didn’t have time to answer. Olive pushed through the door, standing beside her sister. She held a bundle of white in her arms.

A lump grew in Henry’s throat when he saw Olive holding the baby. His son. An infant child. His.

“Why are you here?” Olive cried out. A thin wrapper covered her nightgown and a long dark braid hung over one plump shoulder.

Henry noted she wasn’t smiling, and her lips thinned to a firm line. But what did he expect? Shouts of happiness? He took a step toward her, his arms outstretched in defense, his body at ease. “I’ve come home.”

Olive opened her mouth to say something, but Henry threw up his right hand. “If we can just sit down together, I’ll explain. Please.” As he spoke, his steps drew him nearer to the porch. He felt his eyes spark with regret and tears threatened to take over. His gut churned with guilt. She had to let him stay. He had to see his boy!

A grumble of thunder sounded in the distance as daylight continued to fade. If the storm brought rain, it might quickly turn to snow by morning.

“How can I believe your story?” At that moment, the baby let out a cry.

Henry came to the bottom of the steps. “My son.” He grinned, the smile crinkling his eyes and bunching his cheeks. “Can I see him?” He put a hand on the railing and a foot on the bottom step.

Behind him, he heard Bud’s growl. “Watch your step. It might be your last.”

Ben moved with his father and stood to the left.

Henry whirled and faced the man. “I’ve come home to my family! We’re married and you can’t change that!” He whirled back to face Olive.

Olive blinked back tears but didn’t look away. A sob escaped. She hid her face in the baby’s blanket to catch the tears.

Nancy stepped onto the porch. A white apron encircled her front side and tied in the back. Her black hair pulled into the familiar tight bun. She had listened to the argument. Following behind her was Pearl with Clara Mae. “Olive, take the baby and get back to your bed, you’ll hurt yourself being up and about.”

Lightning lit the night sky and thunder again warned the storm was growing close. Clara Mae let out a whoop of fear and hid herself in Pearl’s dress. The wind picked up, scattering dried leaves across the yard.

Henry made his way up the steps, his footfalls light, his shoulders at attention. He moved near Olive and touched her shoulder. When she looked up, he saw the remnants of his actions written all over her face. He’d been gone too long. She was clearly upset at his absence. And it was all his fault.

Olive looked back at her father and then her mother.

Nancy heard the approaching storm from the kitchen where she was preparing supper from the leftovers of dinner. Her arthritic bones told her the storm might be a gully-washer. She always trusted her aches and pains when it came to forecasting the weather. “Storm’s getting close now,” she said. “I won’t turn away someone when the weather gets bad.” She looked at her husband.

Bud agreed, but anger boiled over his face. "Go in. But if I say out, you're gone. Understand?"

Henry nodded and thanked everyone as they all moved inside just before the first of the raindrops punched the ground and the wind swooshed through the treetops. While the storm seized the November night, another storm ballooned inside. 

***

Lizzie came into the kitchen, standing at the sink. “Olive says it’s time to talk. And you may see the baby.”

“I’m ready.” Henry stood and followed Lizzie into the bedroom, entered the room, and Lizzie closed the door. Henry stood still and waited. for Olive’s reaction.

Olive sat up in bed, the colorful quilt pulled tight around her. Peter lay by her side. For months she had worried and fretted over Henry’s absence. And now, as quick as that, he was back. She tried to sort her feelings out, but it was hard. How did she feel now that he was truly there in the same house with her? Did she want a divorce? To carry that socially unacceptable weight around with her? How would Nellie Bly feel? What would she do? Olive truly wished she had the answers.

“Sit down and I’ll give him to you.” She eyeballed Henry as he sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled the thin blanket away from Peter’s face.

Peter was sleeping; his eyes closed tightly, his pink delicate mouth pursed into a pout. Downy dark hair covered his head, and his round pert nose was like a little brown button.

“What time was he born?” Henry asked softly.

“Just after midnight.”

“What are we going to name him?”

“I named him Peter Gresham,” Olive said the name aloud and liked how it sounded.

Henry’s face fell. “I thought we might name him after me or Father.”

Olive explained the reason for the baby’s name and watched Henry’s reaction. When she saw his eyes darken, she knew he was not fond of the name she had chosen.

“Let’s give him mine. We can always have another son someday and name him Peter.”

She stiffened, thinking of a way to say what needed to be said. From this remark, she had her answer. Henry was all about himself. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to punch him in the face. How dare he abandon her and be gone for months, then show up and demand she do things his way! Taking a deep breath, which made her stomach hurt, she lied.

“Mother already recorded his birth. The name stays. He is Peter Gresham Winters. And you better be happy that I gave him your last name; I thought about naming him Johnson.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Henry's face told the truth. Contempt washed over his cheeks and his voice held authority.

Olive’s face grew warm, as her body stiffened. The months of unease fell over her like the rain against the windowpane. Her voice quivered, but she swallowed the fear and spoke from her heart. A heart that was broken.

“You’re lucky that I let you in this house, after what you’ve put all of us through! For a time, the whole countryside believed you were dead before we found out you were in Joplin. I kept the faith that you were working and would return home to finish our house.” Her eyes felt hot like the blazing coals in the fireplace. “But my faith died weeks ago. There’s nothing left here for you.”

Henry stood up, holding the baby in his arms. The jostling stirred the sleeping infant, and he whimpered. Henry ignored the baby and his stare drilled into her.

“Give him to me,” Olive held out her arms.

“He’s my son and you can’t take him from me. Bud said you want a divorce…”

“Give my son to me now!”

“Do you? Do you want to divorce me? Answer me!" His demands held her in a burning glare.

The door banged against the wall. Bud was in the room. “Do it,” Bud demanded.

Henry looked down into Peter’s face. He handed his son over, then backed away from the bed.

“Yes, I want a divorce,” Olive explained. “Your folks know about it. We’ve talked and they are not happy with you, either. From here on out, you don’t worry about me and Peter. I never want to see you again. You stole my innocence, you took my dreams, and you destroyed my faith and hope for us.”

“Seems there’s been a lot of talk.” Henry raised his chin. His accusing voice held anger and bitterness.

Olive’s face spoke without words. Her brow rose high.

“What will you do?” Henry continued.

“Don't worry about it now! I can make it without you for the rest of my life. Don’t bother coming round to see us. Won’t do you any good. When he grows up if he wants to see you, that’ll be his decision.”

Henry was speechless. He never looked back as he charged out of the bedroom door, through the house and outside in the pouring rain.

Olive slid down under the quilt, holding Pete close. She weighed the options of divorcing Henry. If they stayed married, would he change and take care of her and Peter? Probably not. His true colors showed like the sun with this latest scandal. How could she trust him ever again? The minute he set out to go to work, the old feelings of abandonment would surely eat her up.

Shaking her head, she watched the rain running in rivulets against the windowpane, cold as ice. Like her heart. She recalled Christina’s cautionary warnings. And the jinx when he saw her in the wedding dress. It was coming true. Now with a child to raise, that added decision upon decision. She hated making them! The decision to go to Cottey College faded. To learn to write like Nellie Bly and have a career faded. Swallowing the sadness, she let her dream die.

She pulled the quilt up close and decided to nap and let the choices she just made dance in her head for now. Tomorrow would come. God would see that she and Peter were taken care of.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Henry rode home to his parents’ house. His gut felt like it hit the ground and bounced back into his mouth. An ache ran across his forehead and gouged his ears. His wife’s stinging words played over and over. Just when guilt wrenched through him, his pompous attitude filled his thoughts. How dare Olive speak to him like that? A woman with a mouth filled with strife and anger was not a woman for him!

He was determined to show her and her family what he was made of. His chest puffed out as the rain hit his face. He breathed the coolness of the late autumn night. He did what he wanted, and he was a success at it. No one would talk to him like Olive just did ever again! He would count on that. And what was wrong with this situation? He had what he truly wanted. His inheritance! Once he and Olive told his parents they were getting married his inheritance dropped in his lap.

He got the land promised to him. That was what he was after all along. He just didn’t figure having a wife and son into the equation. And the fact that he had to work all of the time to make a living left his mouth dry. He enjoyed his free and easy lifestyle. Freedom to come and go, and return to his father and mother. They were always there, ready to help. He admitted he missed them. Especially his mama. She was the queen of all mothers. No woman on earth could ever measure up like her.

He recalled his brothers and sisters accusing him of being Mama’s Boy, but he didn’t care. They were all jealous. He couldn’t help it if he was the baby of the big family. And that’s what they accused him of. Being the baby, they said he got away with anything and everything.

The good news now was that he didn't have to support a wife and child! Once again, he was free to do as he pleased and go as he pleased. He'd finish the house on his land with the money he'd saved while working in Joplin. Life would be good again!

Putting his horse away in the barn, Henry ran to the house. Lights from the windows were a welcoming sight. The cold had eaten through him, and he needed a fire to thaw out. He pounded on the door and entered the house, apologizing for causing so much worry. “Father, Mama, I’m home!” When he stepped into the warm room, he grinned bigger than the moon hidden behind the clouds. He sat down on the hearth to warm himself before changing out of wet clothes.

“You’ve done it, this time, son." David sat in the rocking chair. “You’ve caused a great deal of trouble between the Johnsons and us.”

Henry's face grew warm, and it wasn't from the fire crackling in the fireplace. He was immediately offended by his father's words. Not even a welcome from his folks! “I’ve done nothing of the kind.” He looked in his father's face. “Ellie’s at fault!” He outright accused her of the misdeeds.

Christina sat in a winged-back chair and lay her mending aside. “I never want to hear you accuse that poor girl again!"

“But Mama…" He watched her dark brown eyes crease and felt the twitch of shame.

“It’s time that you straighten yourself out! Take responsibility! You abandoned your wife! You caused this mess and now you’ll endure it.”

“Has my own family has turned against me?” Henry asked his father.

“If you deny what you’ve done, we can’t help you.” David’s voice was steady. "A person won't change until they want to. I can't make you do something that you don't want to do! Our family is connected to the Johnson family, and that will not change. I’ll not lose Lizzie and Olive and Clara Mae and your son because of your shenanigans! And a word of advice: you better help Olive take care of your boy."

Henry shook his head. “I’m going to bed.”

David stated, “There’s nothing left here for you.”

Henry lowered his head, arms at his side. His parents sided with his wife. Surprise climbed up his back and settled on his shoulders. He had not expected this turn of events. He knew one thing: he wouldn't stay around his parents and take their chewing out. Without looking at them, he said, “I’ll be leaving in the morning. I’m going back to Joplin.”

Christina sniffed into her handkerchief, and David nodded his head. It was finished. 

                                                                   ***

The winter in Southwest Missouri was normal. Cold winds blew in small snow storms every few days, littering the barren and frozen ground. It wasn't enough for building snowmen or making snow ice cream, and it kept the daytime temperatures cold. For three straight days in February, the thermometer registered bitter nights. That made travel dangerous. Church attendance was down for two weeks, and no one attended school. The mail delivery stopped, and very few people were out and about. Eventually, the cold days gave way to warmer spring temperatures, and spring hit the Ozarks as the trees budded and leafed out. Colorful blossoms filled the orchards, white, pink, and yellow from the fruit trees.

Olive healed from the birth, and Peter grew quickly. With each passing month, she was surprised to see progress in him. His dark hair grew from tufts into curls, and his nose upturned in the sweetest way. Soon, he rolled over on his blanket and onto the floor. He laughed and gurgled all sorts of sounds, his chubby arms batting the air.

Clara Mae helped out by allowing Peter to play with her toys. She talked to him and sang songs. He gurgled with laughter. Sometimes, jealousy made her run and hide under her bed, where she fell asleep.

Olive was in the process of getting a divorce from Henry. The lawyer told her she had to prove he abandoned her and asked if she wanted Henry to pay alimony. The money would help her take care of Peter. Proving abandonment was easy enough. The entire countryside knew what he had put his family through. If she needed witnesses, she had them. She waited on a court date at Pine Hills. Soon, the marriage would be put to rest.

Bitterness settled in her bones, preventing her from having second thoughts. She could never, would never forgive him. There was a problem, however. How would she keep him from seeing Pete? Especially if he was with David and Christina. Would she let him go with his grandparents? She had to stop worrying about the future. It was enough to worry about here and now. She had to get a job. The weather was warming up, and travel was easier. She planned to talk to her parents about going to town and asking for available jobs. She would pray about it and knew that God would answer. Smiling, she hoped to pay her father back the money she owed for the divorce, then buy a typewriter at the mercantile in Rocky Corner.

Clara Mae turned six years old on a warm spring day in April. She helped her mother make a cake for the evening supper. Lizzie stoked the fire to warm the oven enough to bake and pumped water from the hand pump at the sink. Water flowed into a granite dishpan to wash dishes after the meal.

When Lizzie wasn’t looking, Clara Mae put the long wooden spoon covered with bits of cake batter to Peter’s lips. He licked the spoon and tried to grab it from her hands, but Clara Mae pulled back quickly. Peter smacked his lips and puckered his face in protest. He wanted the spoon.

Lizzie turned to see what her daughter was doing and laughed until tears came. “Clara Mae, you ornery little imp! See what you’ve done. He’s mad at you now.”

“It tastes good,” Clara Mae said, giggling. She whirled the spoon in the glass bowl to coated it again with bits of batter, then put it to Peter’s waiting lips. His chubby hands grasped it and pulled it from Clara Mae's grip.

Olive entered the kitchen holding something behind her back. “What are you up to now, my silly niece?” she asked, eyeing Clara Mae. Then she spied Peter sitting on the floor, holding the wooden spoon, and licking it with gusto.

Olive looked at Lizzie. They both burst out laughing. With one hand, Olive took the now-cleaned spoon from Peter’s grasp as he protested. “That’s enough, son. I don’t want your belly to hurt.”

Lizzie smiled as her nephew let out a squall that nearly shook the rafters. “Now, see what you’ve done?” she said. “You’re spoiling him!”

Olive ignored his cries and brought out a gift for Clara Mae. Clara Mae’s eyes bugged out, her chubby cheeks turned red, and she jumped up and down near the kitchen table.

Olive placed the long box wrapped in newspaper on the table and said, “Happy birthday!”

Clara Mae giggled, clapping her hands as she danced about the floor, singing, “It’s my birthday, it’s my birthday! Happy birthday to me!”

Peter’s cries stopped abruptly to stare at the girl dancing around him. His eyes followed her as she whirled and twirled, then lost his balance. His forehead hit the floor with a thud. That brought on more tears, and he squalled even louder.

Olive rushed to pick him up and dry his face.

The front door slammed, and Bud burst into the kitchen. “I heard him wailing plumb outside!” He chewed on his tobacco, saw the ruckus, and sat at the table. Taking Peter from Olive, he rocked him back and forth while patting his back with his large hand. Peter stopped crying. With a mischievous wink, Bud smiled and said, “There now, Big Boy, I’m here to take care of you.”

“Oh, Pa!” Olive exclaimed. “You’re spoiling him rotten!”

“That’s what grandchildren are for,” he said, rocking Peter to sleep.

“Pa, pray, and then we’ll let Clara Mae see her gifts before we eat.”

After the prayer, Clara Mae clapped and giggled over her gifts. Bud fashioned her a new rocking chair. She screamed with happiness when she saw it. “I can sit with you on the porch, Papa!”

A China head doll was nestled inside when she opened Olive’s gift. Clara Mae lifted the doll from the box and hugged it. “My dolly, my dolly!”

Olive made a soft cloth body for the doll, attaching it to the China head. Black-painted boots covered the doll’s feet. The doll’s smile curved graciously on a beautiful porcelain face. She was dressed in a long lace dress with matching underthings.

After the gifts were cleared away, they sat at the long kitchen table to eat supper. Olive took a tray of food to an ailing Pearl. Afterward, Lizzie served slices of birthday cake. Ben joined them and claimed a spot at the table when he smelled cake.

Eight months later, Olive’s petition for divorce from Henry was complete. On court day, the Brooming County courthouse filled with folks, each there for different matters pertaining to the law. Olive slowed when she approached the courthouse, remembering the day of Daniel’s murder trial. She had never been in a courthouse, so this was a memorable day. She took her turn, seated before the judge, with her lawyer. Swallowing what felt like a stack of pancakes in her throat, she answered the questions from the judge. She told the judge what transpired and why she asked for a divorce.

The judge banged the gavel and quietly told her lawyer to sign all necessary paperwork to undo the marriage vows forever. Abandonment was a serious issue and one that was never taken lightly. Henry’s behavior was certainly frowned upon by all involved. Most community members knew what he had done. The judge declared Olive a free, single woman with the restoration of her maiden name. She had custody of Peter, and Henry was ordered to pay her ten dollars a month.

That did not lighten Olive’s sorrow. She fretted and frowned. “I feel betrayed.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“And you should,” Lizzie answered. “He’s a skunk and if anyone ever trusts him again, they’ll play the fool!”

“What if he comes round to see Pete?”

“It’s up to you. If he does want to see him, maybe that’s a good thing.” Lizzie batted her lashes and shrugged.

“Decisions. I hate making them!” A whoosh of air came out of Olive as she lay back on her bed.

“Then don’t. Wait until it happens, and then you can decide. Like Pa says, ‘Don’t go borrowing trouble!”