Morning Sky (7 page)

Surely the Boyles have entertained these newcomers in their home— what did you think of them?”

Truth sat on the grass beside Moses. “Mrs. Nelson has come calling only once, and I’ve never met Mr. Nelson or the children. As for entertaining, Mrs. Boyle has recurring bouts of illness and hasn’t been well these past months. Dr. Boyle insists she refrain from the effort of entertaining guests during those times when she is ailing.”

A warm breeze rustled through the lone cottonwood as Lilly considered this. “It would seem Mrs. Boyle depends upon you a great deal, Truth,” she said. “I doubt whether a sweet girl like you would want to leave such a kind woman without assistance. How could she possibly get by if you were to marry and leave her employ?”

Moses lurched to attention. “Your concern is appreciated, Miss Lilly. However, the Boyles’s daughter, Macia, will soon be returning to Hill City—in September—to take up her teaching duties. She’s more than capable of caring for her mother.”

“But if she’s off teaching school all day . . .” Lilly permitted her words to trail off as she directed an accusatory look at Truth.

A frown creased Moses’s forehead. “The Boyles know that we plan to wed in September. If Macia isn’t able to successfully manage both tasks, Dr. and Mrs. Boyle will make proper arrangements. I truly don’t think this is a problem that warrants your concern, Miss Lilly.”

“Of course, you’re correct, Moses. I was merely thinking aloud. I do hope you’ll forgive me if I’ve caused you any discomfort by discussing Mrs. Boyle’s welfare, Truth. After all, you’re a sensitive young lady, and I should have realized that you would have already considered Mrs. Boyle and her physical afflictions. And, of course, I didn’t realize there was an unmarried daughter in the Boyle household—a schoolteacher, you say. A plain girl, I take it?”

Miss Hattie pointed a finger at Lilly. “You sure is quick to pass judgment on folks. Miss Macia’s a right pretty gal—smart, too.”

Lilly swatted at a fly that circled nearby. “Yet not overly concerned with her mother’s medical condition, I take it?”

“Macia cares deeply for her mother. It was her mother who insisted she attend some special school in New York,” Truth explained.

Lilly sighed. “Seems marriage is a difficult matter in this part of the country. On the one hand, we have Macia Boyle, who can’t seem to find anyone willing to marry her. On the other hand, we have Jarena, with a beau who’s run off to Indian Territory; then, of course, there’s Truth, who isn’t certain she should marry at all. My, my, things are—”

“Hold on a minute!” Moses exclaimed, looking directly at Truth. “Did I hear her right? Did she say that you don’t want to get married?”

“No . . . I mean yes—she did say that. But I said . . . well, I mentioned . . . oh, I don’t know what I said, but I do know that I want to marry you, Moses,” Truth sputtered.

“No need to be upset, Truth. You’re an unworldly girl and unaccustomed to making important decisions. Surely Moses loves you enough to wait until you’ve made up your mind about your future.” Lilly leaned forward and rested an arm around Truth. “Trust me, you’re not ready for marriage—especially to Moses,” she whispered in the girl’s ear before releasing her.

Ezekiel jumped to his feet. “That there’s a bunch of nonsense, and we done had enough of that kinda talk. Them two is jumpin’ the broom come September, and you needs to keep your fingers outta the pot, Lilly. You hear me now?”

Lilly nodded demurely. “Of course, Ezekiel—whatever you believe is best.”

CHAPTER
6

O
nce Ezekiel had started a fire under the wash water, he and Grace departed for the fields. Jarena returned indoors to retrieve a bucket. She’d have sufficient time to gather berries while the water heated. Lilly, who had remained abed while Grace and Jarena had hauled water for the laundry, was now up and dressed, enjoying a cup of coffee. After hearing Jarena’s plan, Lilly declared she’d like to join her. When Jarena gave her what she was sure was an astonished look, Lilly declared that berry picking, after all, was not an overly strenuous activity.

They’d gone only a short distance when Lilly tugged on Jarena’s arm and pointed at a growth of wild sunshine roses. Jarena followed after Lilly, surprised to discover her aunt’s interest in the prairie’s floral offerings.

Lilly stooped down and plucked a purple bloom. “Look! There are violets, too. With these flowers and some items I have in my trunk, we can mix up a batch of perfume. I have everything else we’ll need, and I’ll teach you my special recipe.”

Jarena knelt beside Lilly, suddenly wanting to impress the woman—once again feeling mysteriously drawn to her. Lilly’s willingness to instruct her was even more exhilarating than inhaling the signature fragrance the woman wore each day. As she continued to pick the flowers, Lilly explained the simple perfume-making process and suggested that if they truly liked the mixture, the two of them might consider joining forces in a small business venture.

Jarena hadn’t had time to digest the idea, much less formulate a decision, when Lilly laid out the rest of her plan. They would secure the services of an itinerant peddler who could furnish them with bottles and oil once they’d depleted the small inventory from Lilly’s trunk. In addition, the peddler could market their product for a small commission. Though Lilly avowed neither of them would get rich from such a venture, they could at least earn a little pin money. And, Lilly noted, most of the women she’d met could benefit from the use of perfume. In fact, the two of them would be conducting an act of charity by producing such a product!

Jarena didn’t think perfume production qualified as a charitable act, though she did like the idea of earning her own money. The funds could be put to good use when Thomas finally returned. Yes, she decided, there was a definite appeal to the venture.

As Lilly continued to extol the entrepreneurial scheme, the sun grew warm on Jarena’s neck. With a start, she remembered the dirty laundry and boiling wash pot and bounded to her feet. The flowers she’d gathered in her skirt spilled to the ground as she hastily explained they must hurry home. Undeterred, Lilly agreed to follow once she retrieved the flowers Jarena had carelessly dropped. Anxious to be on her way, Jarena had taken but a few steps out of the thicket when Lilly called her back with an instruction to remove two buckets of boiling water from the vat before adding the soap. They would need the untainted water for their perfume, she advised.

If nothing else, Aunt Lilly remained focused upon her objective. The woman seemed to care little if the household tasks were completed or if supper was prepared. However, once away from Lilly’s charming talk, Jarena’s thoughts returned to her chores. An explanation would be due if the clothes weren’t clean and supper wasn’t on the table—and she was the one who would be required to answer. She doubted Pappy would think flower picking and perfume making an adequate excuse.

The water was at a full boil by the time she arrived home—probably had been for at least half an hour, Jarena surmised. Still, the idea of making Lilly’s signature fragrance enticed her enough that she removed two buckets of water before she began chipping soap into the vat.

Jarena was hanging the last of the laundry when Lilly finally ambled back to the house carrying a big bundle of flowers and softly singing a tune. There was little doubt in Jarena’s mind that her aunt had intentionally stayed away from the house until the work was completed. Likely she had been relaxing while staying out of view until the last of the laundry had been scrubbed and hung to dry.

Lilly picked up the two buckets sitting nearby. “I’ll go inside and reheat part of this water. We can begin as soon as you finish hanging the clothes.”

Wiping her hands on her apron, Jarena walked indoors. Numerous empty bottles lined the table along with a small container of oil and a tall bottle of liquor. Jarena considered mentioning that alcohol wasn’t permitted in Nicodemus. In fact, her father had signed a pledge when he purchased his land.
Best to stop now
, the tiny voice of her conscience urged. But her aunt was already pulling blooms apart.

“Sit down and help me with the flowers. Be careful with the roses. I’ve already pricked my finger twice.”

Unheedingly, Jarena grabbed one of the stems but quickly dropped it from her hand. A tiny puddle of blood appeared where a small thorn had embedded in her finger. Once again the voice pricked her conscience— once again she hearkened to Lilly’s voice instead.

Lilly was explaining the use of unscented oils to enhance the fragrance of flowers when Jarena perked to attention at a sound outside: a wagon—and the familiar sound of Miss Hattie’s voice. Nearly knocking her chair to the floor, Jarena jumped up and rushed to the doorway. The old matriarch was lumbering toward her carrying a freshly baked pie while Calvin Harris moved to the rear of the wagon and hoisted her father’s plow to the ground. He headed off to return the borrowed plow to the barn.

Jarena quickly stationed herself between Miss Hattie and the front door.With any luck, Calvin and his grandmother-in-law would quickly be on their way. Jarena held out her hands to receive the pastry, but the old woman ignored her and marched on toward the house, the whole time explaining that Calvin had promised to return the plow today. Jarena bounded ahead of the woman, but Miss Hattie was like a wagon on a roll. You either moved out of the way or she ran over you. Jumping aside, Jarena managed to enter the house and take up a position in front of the table. She spread the folds of her skirt across the table, thinking she must look like a bird prepared to take flight.

Miss Hattie greeted Lilly and then explained Calvin had hoped to come by the house earlier. However, she’d made him wait until her pies were baked. After all, the least they could do was bring Ezekiel a pie to thank him for the loan of his plow. There was no doubt the woman was scanning every item on the table as she set her gooseberry pie on the sideboard.

After a long look at the table, Miss Hattie turned to Jarena. “We’s needin’ to have us a talk—in private.” Miss Hattie pulled her along until they cleared the door and moved away from the house.When she finally released Jarena’s arm, Miss Hattie’s breathing was labored and there was anger in her eyes. “What kind of craziness you and that woman got goin’ on in there?”

Jarena struggled to find the proper words. “We’re . . . we’re making perfume . . . to sell. I’m going to save the money to help Thomas and me set up housekeeping when he returns.”

Miss Hattie touched a finger to Jarena’s head. “You doin’ any thinkin’ with that head of yours or you jest using it for a hat perch? There’s alcohol in your pappy’s house. You think he’s gonna be happy ’bout that?”

“No, but . . .”

“Ain’t no buts ’bout it. You’s headed down a crooked road that’s gonna lead you to trouble for sure. Now if you’s smart, you’s gonna march back in that house and tell Lilly you done made a mistake and she best clear up that mess she’s makin’—and get rid of that liquor. You knows your pappy could get hisself in trouble if folks find out he’s got liquor in his house.”

Calvin waved from the wagon, obviously anxious to be on his way. Jarena sighed, relieved Miss Hattie would soon be gone. No telling what might happen next if the old woman remained. She’d likely go inside and destroy the supplies herself.

Miss Hattie waved back at Calvin. “I’s comin’, jest hold on a minute. You mind what I’m tellin’ you, gal. I ain’ gonna say nothin’ ’bout none of this to no one, but I expect you to do the right thing.”

“Yes, Miss Hattie.” Though she truly didn’t want to agree, Jarena mumbled the obligatory words. “You won’t say anything to Pappy, will you?”

“I ain’t gonna say a word. Now go on inside and get that mess cleared away.”

Lilly didn’t look up from her handiwork when Jarena stepped back into the house. Without giving Jarena opportunity to speak, her aunt launched into additional ideas regarding their new perfume business.

She would order special oils to create a longer-lasting perfume—one for which they could charge more money. And, of course, they could change the scent depending upon the available flowers. Lilly explained they would purchase only a few of the costly oils she truly preferred.

After all, they would want to make a profit.

When her aunt finally paused, Jarena relayed what Miss Hattie had plainly pointed out. “I’m concerned that Pappy won’t agree to this venture. Perhaps we should wait until I can gain his approval.”

As she had earlier, Lilly continued working, undeterred by the remark. “I don’t know why he would object. Didn’t God create these flowers with wonderful aromas? I’m certain He’d want His children smelling just as fine as the flowers. Besides, what’s wrong with making perfume?We’re performing a service for the womenfolk on the prairie.”

She has a point, Jarena thought. She forced aside Miss Hattie’s warning and continued to ignore the small voice urging her to stop. She focused her attention on Lilly and her exacting directions. And when her aunt finally declared the mixture ready to be bottled, Jarena carefully funneled the sweet-smelling liquid into the shiny containers. She didn’t notice the sun had begun to cast longer shadows across the hardened dirt floor—nor did she hear her father approach the house.

“What’s all this going on in here?” he boomed from the doorway, the sun forming a golden halo around his floppy felt hat. “Sure don’ smell like my supper cookin’ on that fire.” The bottle in Jarena’s hand dropped to the floor. Glass shards scattered around her feet and reflected tiny prisms of light.

Jarena waited, hoping Lilly would respond. Instead, Lilly folded her hands in a saintly fashion and remained uncharacteristically silent.

“I’s waitin’ for an answer, gal.” Her father crossed the room in four long strides, stopping directly in front of Jarena.

She stepped in front of the shelf where she’d placed the oils and alcohol. Pointing a trembling finger at the small bottles that lined the kitchen table, she regaled her father with the many attributes of their proposed business venture—as many as she could recall, at least. Her thoughts had scattered like rose petals in a gust of wind the moment her father had entered the house. He didn’t appear convinced as he stepped forward and gently moved her aside. His gaze settled on the oils and then he picked up the bottle of alcohol. Without a word, he removed the lid, walked out the door, and poured the contents on the ground. His dark eyes bore down on Jarena as he set the empty bottle on the shelf.