Amethyst (38 page)

Amethyst caught herself listening for his horse to return.

“Amethyst, could you please change Joseph? I’m up to my elbows in dough,” Pearl called from the kitchen.

“Right away.”

Taking care of either of the children was always a pleasure to her. Pretending added to it. She laid the baby on the small quilt with Carly standing at her side. “Would you please bring me a diaper?”

Carly nodded, her smile bright. For one so small, she was already the little mother, coming to tell Pearl when Joseph needed something. She would play with him, shaking the rattle, picking up the cloth ball that Amethyst had made, giving it back to him and repeating the game endlessly.

Amethyst held the wet diaper in place until the new one arrived. One did not trust little boys without a diaper. Pulling the woolen knit soaker back in place she picked him up and blew on his round little belly. Both baby and Carly laughed along with Amethyst. She looked up to see Carl standing in the door.

Carly ran and clasped her father around the knee, then sat on his foot, and he hobbled along with her. “Something is on my foot, and it is oh so heavy.” The joy on Carly’s upturned face twisted something inside Amethyst.

Her pa had never played with any of the children. Instead, he yelled at her mother to “keep them brats quiet.” And all of them had died but her. She snuggled Joseph for the moment he allowed and put him down on the floor again, smiling at the beeline he made on his hands and knees for his pa. Sometimes he walked, but not when he was in a hurry. This one let nothing stand between him and what he wanted. Carly looked over her shoulder and laughed up at her father.

“See Joey, Pa.”

“I see him.” Carl swept Carly up on his arm and bent over to scoop up his son. With a child in each arm, he headed for the kitchen, where Pearl could be heard banging pots around.

Amethyst folded up the small quilt they used for changing the baby on, picked up the wet diaper, and carried it to the pail where they soaked the dirty diapers until they could wash them. Tomorrow would be washday, mostly of baby things.

She washed her hands after putting things away and glanced around the room to make sure all was in order. Keeping things neat in this house was so easy with cupboards and shelves everywhere. Every day she thanked God for allowing her to work in such a lovely home with people who cared about her and she them.

Not that all their guests lived with the same kind of order, however. According to Pearl some were out-and-out slobs.

Neatness wasn’t the biggest problem. Lack of guests loomed larger. Jeremiah McHenry still kept a room there, even though he spent some nights out at his house without a whole roof. He said he always came back when he needed real food.

“You’ve made it hard for me to be content with my own cooking,” he had teased Amethyst one evening. That was after he downed his second piece of blueberry pie with whipped cream.

Amethyst climbed the stairs to make sure the guest bedrooms were in order, the lamps full of kerosene, the pillows plumped, and a light quilt folded across the foot of the bed, in case a night turned chilly. She went on to her own room to comb her hair, making sure the knot stayed on top of her head where it belonged. Joseph loved to tangle his little fingers in her hair and giggled when it fell down.

She studied herself in the mirror. “Your father probably wouldn’t even recognize you,” she told the reflection. She no longer looked like a walking broom. Her form and face had shape, although the latter was hidden mostly by the full covering aprons she wore over her simple skirts and waists. No longer did she own only one good outfit and one for everyday. All the clothes Pearl had given her to alter now fit her shorter height. Some she’d had to alter again, letting them out at the hips and bosom.

She swirled her hair around her fingers on top of her head, inserted hairpins, and finished with the comb Mrs. Grant had given her. “Please, Lord, take care of Mrs. Grant, and if it be your will, I’d love to see her again.” She uttered the prayer every time she worked the comb into her hair. She still felt bad that the matching one had been lost in the snow.

Back downstairs she could hear laughing from the kitchen. This house was so blessed with laughter—Carly’s high and giggly, Mr. Hegland’s deep and resonant like his voice, Pearl’s so refined and yet so infectious.

“Amethyst, come on in here. We have something to show you.”

“I’m coming.” She straightened an antimacassar on one of the chairs and followed the laughter to the kitchen.

She stopped in the doorway. A rocking chair with carved arms and split-cowhide back and seat stood in the middle of the room. “Is that the one for Mr. McHenry?”

“That it is. Looks big enough to be a throne, far as I can see.” Pearl smiled at her husband. “You outdid yourself.”

“I am rather pleased with it. This chair will make our friend most comfortable when sitting by the fire on a winter’s night. I won’t take it out there, though, until he has the roof on his house. Think I’ll go on out tomorrow and see if we can’t finish it off.”

“When will they be here to hay our field?” Pearl stroked the arm of the chair. “Such a fine finish.”

“Not sure. I’ll ask Rand. They finished up at McHenry’s, I think.”

Amethyst crossed the room and ran her hand over the smooth wood. She knew Mr. Hegland had spent hours on the chair, more so than for the more simple tables and chairs that he made on a regular basis. Not that he’d had any orders for a long time, other than the pieces for McHenry. Not with so many leaving the badlands. She’d seen too many empty houses, soddies, and places where she had been told tents stood last summer when Medora was a bustling town with building going up everywhere and men working for the marquis at all his enterprises.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, Amethyst. Is there any of that cake left that we had at noon? I’ve a hankering for something sweet.”

“With coffee?”

“You read my mind.”

“You’ll spoil your supper.” Pearl grabbed Joseph back from chewing on the woodbox.

“As if that could happen.” Carl winked at his wife. “You’ll have a piece with me?”

“Cake, Pa. Me too.” Carly added her voice.

“See what you started.”

“You can share mine, pet.” He went to sit at the table and patted his knee. “Come sit here, and we’ll have coffee.”

Carly ran across the room and climbed up onto her father’s knee. “Coffee.”

“She hasn’t a big vocabulary yet, but she sure says that word clearly.” Pearl took out the cake pan from the breadbox Carl had made for her and cut pieces for each of them. “You’ll have some too, won’t you, Amethyst?”

I think you forget that I am the help and not family
. But she didn’t mention that, instead having resolved to enjoy every minute of her stay with the Heglands in case something happened and she had to leave.

The next morning after the westbound train had left, Amethyst heard a wagon drive up to the front door.

“Halloo, the boardinghouse.” She recognized the voice of Mr. Owens, the stationmaster. Strange that he would be bringing them a guest. He never left the telegraph unattended. She hurried to the door, wiping her hands on her apron. “We’re here.”

Amethyst stopped and caught her hand to her throat. “Mrs. Grant.”

“One and the same. I decided to stop here on my way home. Hadn’t planned on spending the winter in Washington Territory, but with the weather so bad between there and Chicago, and it was such a beautiful spring…I guess I overstayed.”

Mr. Owens helped her down from the wagon and then carried her two trunks up to the porch. “Shall I leave these here?”

“Yes, that will be fine.” Amethyst felt like a little girl staring at her Christmas present, afraid to open it. “I’ve prayed for you every time I used the comb in my hair, and I always asked that God would let me see you again.”

“Here I am. Is there a room for me to stay here?” She gave Amethyst a hug and, with her cool, sweet-smelling hands on both sides of her face, looked deep into her eyes. “You look wonderful, my dear. This Medora seems to agree with you.”

“It is working here that is so good.”

“You didn’t go back to Pennsylvania.”

“It is a long story. Come in, come in. Can I get you a cup of tea?” She took Mrs. Grant’s arm and led her into the parlor. “Pearl, Mrs. Hegland, is out on the back porch with the children. It is cooler out there. Would you like to see your room first or join her on the porch?”

“The room can wait. I want to meet the one who has helped my Pennsylvania rose burst into bloom.”

Amethyst felt the heat rise to her face. “How did you know I was still here?”

“I asked that nice Mr. Owens. He said you came just before a blizzard and never left. You know how curious I am, so you must tell me the whole story.”

“Come, let me introduce you. Pearl was from Chicago too.” Amethyst led her guest out to the back porch where Joseph sprawled sound asleep on a settee and Pearl and Carly rocked in a chair while Pearl read to her daughter.

“We have a guest,” Amethyst called as she ushered Mrs. Grant out the door.

“Oh my. How did all this happen and I didn’t hear a thing?” Pearl laid the book down and turned to greet their visitor. After the introductions she continued, “Why, Mrs. Grant, how wonderful to see you. And such a surprise. Amethyst has told me all about you, how you cared for her when she became ill on the trip here.”

“I couldn’t go by without checking on her.”

“Please sit down.” Pearl set Carly off her lap and started to rise. “No, you sit right there with that darling little girl, and I’ll sit here. Amethyst will bring us all tea, and we shall have a wonderful visit together.”

Amethyst found herself blinking back tears at the warmth in Mrs. Grant’s voice and eyes. It really hadn’t been a dream, then. She’d wondered at times if she made it all up or the trip west had been a story she heard someone else tell. How could she be so fortunate to have two such women as her friends? She, who’d never had friends before other than family, and those so briefly.

By the time she’d answered all of Mrs. Grant’s questions, refilled the teapot several times, and heard about the older woman’s adventures in the wilds of Washington Territory, she needed to be starting supper. So the three women moved their conversation into the kitchen and kept on talking.

“I wrote to the doctor’s wife in Fargo, and she finally answered me about making more of her soaps and lotions to sell in Chicago. While she will make them at first, I believe we will find someone in Chicago to produce them. I have a friend who has promised to call on the buyers for Macy’s and the other stores.”

“What an excellent idea.”

“I believe it is important for women to create businesses of their own and to put to work other women who need positions in order to assist their families. This way we all benefit.”

“I read something in Godey’s about lotions and soaps being made in Paris. There is no reason we cannot make such things here in our country.” Pearl wiped the bread-crust crumbs off Joseph’s face and set him down again to play with Carly.

While they talked, Amethyst did more listening as she went about setting the table and finishing preparing supper.

Mr. McHenry returned to stay for the night and was introduced. Carl finished in his workroom and came in, heading to his room to wash up.

They all moved to the dining room, and Amethyst served the first course, leaf lettuce she’d picked in the garden just before supper and sprinkled with vinegar. After bringing in the roasted grouse Opal had brought them the day before, along with new potatoes, gravy, and green beans, she sat down at the table with the others.

“If you could stay long enough, I would be honored to take you for a ride out into the badlands,” Jeremiah offered.

“On a horse?” Mrs. Grant raised her eyebrows.

“If you’d like, but I was thinking of using one of the wagons.” McHenry looked a bit taken aback.

“Do you have a sidesaddle anywhere around here?”

“I’m sure I could find one.”

“Then when would you like to go?”

Amethyst and Pearl looked at each other and both hid their smiles behind their napkins.

McHenry turned to Pearl. “We could make it an outing if you like. Take the buckboard and picnic baskets and eat down by the river. We should invite Opal too. She’d help us catch enough fish to serve everyone.”

“Who all are you thinking of inviting?”

“I don’t know. This charming lady just got the ideas rolling.”

“If we wait until Saturday, the day after tomorrow, we would have time to invite everyone.”

“I’ll take the invitations around in the morning. There’s a good fishing hole about two miles north of the railroad, and the road out there is fairly good. That will give Mrs. Grant some views of the badlands that will take her breath away.” Jeremiah bowed slightly in their visitor’s direction.

“Ah, now you want me breathless, is that it? Not good for an old lady, you know.”

Amethyst coughed behind her hand.
Old lady? Not likely. And I will get to see the badlands too
. She didn’t realize until right then that she’d wanted to see more. That she wanted to see more of all the wonders around, if she was with Jeremiah McHenry.