Donners Bend

Standing in front of a small white brick house in the middle of a tiny town called Donners Bend was Eliana Mae Henderson.  Flat, gray clouds filled the darkening sky above her as the town prepared for yet another rain.  Donners Bend wasn’t known for much except its excessive rainfall.  It rained at least every other day there, if not more, and when it rained it didn’t just last an hour or two, it took up the entire day and night.  The maidens needn’t water their gardens for God continually took care of it, and it never flooded in Donners Bend because the town rose above the surrounding land and the water could roll right off into the nearby river. 

The townspeople would jokingly say that in order to live in Donners Bend, one had to don a raincoat because of the frequency of its rain, and the bend was because they were certain that’s where the sun was always hiding, somewhere around the bend. The truth is, they made light of the rain and never saw it as an intrusion, but more like a welcomed visitor that always showed up.  

Although she was only sixteen, Eliana had just moved to Donners Bend to start a life on her own
,
for that was the way things in her old town,
Hunter’s Ridge
, worked.  No one thought it odd, for it was merely the custom of the land.  Her parents, Thomas and Beatrice Henderson
,
worked h
ard to prepare their only child,
and at last it was time to bid her goodbye.  Ellie, as she was affectionately called, set out with a wagon full of her belongings along with her closest friend, Marcelle
Amelia
Marquis, who would be helping her move in.

The little white cottage which Ellie now stood before had been chosen by her father for he had found it suitable for a young girl.  Also, it was situated a perfect distance from the Henderson’s
Hunter’s Ridge
home; it was far enough away that Ellie would be able to distance herself from her parents and become more responsible and independent, but it was also close enough that if
an emergency occurred
,
she could reach her parents in just a day's carriage ride.

The first day in her new home Ellie spent cleaning, for she was a very tidy person, painting, moving in furniture and other various items, and making the house feel more like a home, all with the help of Marcelle.  It really was a cute little cottage, and Ellie knew she would come to love it dearly in due time.

Made up of tan, white, and cream-colored bricks, it created quite a contrast with the fields of healthy green grass upon which it sat.  Five steps led up to a porch that ran the width of the house and upon this porch sat an old black rocking chair Ellie's grandpa had sent with her when she moved.  A little bin serving as a mailbox sat next to the newly painted black door and on the opposite side was a terra cotta pot filled with red tulips and a crate containing firewood. 

Walking in, one could see that the open space was being used for a parlor on the right and a dining room on the left.  A scarlet couch and ivory-colored armchair faced the fireplace making up the small, but needed, parlor.  The dining room contained an oak table surrounded by four chairs with scarlet fabric as padding.  In the center of the table sat a vase filled with red tulips just as beautiful as the ones on Ellie’s front porch.  From the dining room a black door led to the kitchen, which contained only the necessities for now. 

Ellie's bedroom was in the back of the house, as was her bathroom.  The basement would be used for laundry and storage purposes only and, at the moment, it was a bit of a mess.

"Doesn't it look wonderful, El?" Marcelle asked with a huge smile spreading across her face; she'd been standing next to Ellie for some time, waiting for her friend to comment on the house and had grown rather impatient.

Ellie nodded, "It
doe
s, and it's mine.  All mine."

"All yours!" Marcelle shouted, as she grabbed Ellie in a huge hug.

Ellie and Marcelle had been best friends since they were children, though they weren't very alike in personality or appearance and often got into disagreements.  Ellie, a more calm and tidy girl by nature, had graduated at the top of her class back in
Hunter’s Ridge
.  Marcelle, on the other hand, despised school and knew it didn't really matter how well she did for she would always have her wealthy French family to back her up.  Marcelle was very self-confident, spontaneous, and outgoing; when she knew what she wanted
,
nothing could stop her from getting it. 

Throughout their many years together Ellie had grown slightly jealous of Marcelle, not for her personality but for her looks.  Marcelle
Amelia
Marquis had an appearance any woman would be envious of.  Her dark, chocolate brown hair fell in bouncy ringlets and looked perfect whether Marcelle let it hang naturally or pinned it up.  Beneath delicately arched eyebrows were her clear blue eyes, as blue as a midsummer sky.  Framing those enticing eyes were full, thick lashes that loved to wink at admiring men.  Her cheeks were always rosy, her nose never freckled, and her dimples never disappeared when she flashed another brilliantly white smile.  Full, plump lips never lost their pinkish-red hue and her hands never rid of their lady-like elegance.  Her bust was full, her waist small, and her feet tiny.  In her seventeen years of life, she'd had more beaux than she could count.  Marcelle never tired of playing with the affections of men and dragging them along like lovesick puppy dogs.  She'd moved into her own little cottage in
Hunter’s Ridge
last year when she turned sixteen, so she wouldn't be able to visit Ellie very often in her new home in Donners Bend. 

Ellie, though saddened by this fact, also thought it might be a good idea for her to be separated from Marcelle for a while.  She thought it might be time for her to make some new friends.

Eliana Mae Henderson, though not as fair as Marcelle, could most certainly not be considered unattractive.  Her
reddish
, feathery hair had an almost indescribable color
of auburn, with its reddish hues and glistening, natural highlights. 
She wore it the same way every day: parted on the left side and pulled back into a small ponytail with a ribbon that matched whatever dress she wore that day.  Her ears were a little too small and a patch of freckles ran across the bridge of her nose and onto both cheeks.  Long, dark lashes surrounded her sparkling hazel eyes and although her smile wasn't as perfect as Marcelle's, it was shown often for she loved to laugh.  Her bust was a little small, her waist thin, and she stood a full five inches beneath 5'7 Marcelle at the height of 5'2.