Chapter 5

The following day, Will set out early into town, his mind racing with the promise he’d made to his mother. He knew exactly where to go - Miss Harriet’s Dress Emporium, the fanciest shop in all of Dustbowl. As he pushed open the door, the tinkle of a bell announced his arrival, and the plush red velvet curtains parted to reveal rows of exquisite dresses that shimmered in the soft morning light.

Miss Harriet, a plump woman with a sharp nose and shrewd eyes, greeted him with a knowing smile. “Looking for something special?” she asked, her voice a purr that hinted at the kind of secrets that could be whispered in a place like hers.

“The best you got,” Will replied, slapping a handful of gold coins onto the counter. The sound echoed through the empty store, a declaration of intent. “My ma’s the finest woman in the county, and I want her to have the dress to match.”

Miss Harriet’s smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming as she took in the sight of the gold. She knew all too well the kind of business that went on at the McMillan farm, and the kind of gold it brought in. “Ah, a son’s love,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Allow me to show you our most exquisite selection.”

Will followed her through the racks, his eyes scanning the dresses as if searching for something more than mere fabric. He wanted to find something that would make his mother feel beautiful, something that could maybe, just for a moment, make her forget the hard life they led.

“Here,” Miss Harriet said, holding up a stunning emerald-green dress with intricate lace detailing. “This is our latest piece from Paris. I’m sure it would look splendid on your mother.” She held it against her own body, giving Will a knowing look.

Will’s heart raced as he pictured Mrs. McMillan in the dress, her strong, yet feminine curves accentuated by the luxurious fabric. He nodded, his decision made. “We’ll take it.” He didn’t even bother to haggle, knowing that the price was worth it if it brought a smile to his mother’s face.

But Miss Harriet wasn’t done yet. With a cunning smile, she beckoned him closer to a hidden corner of the store. “I’ve got something else that might interest you,” she whispered, her eyes glinting with mischief. “A new line of lingerie, freshly imported from France.”

Will felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at the delicate scraps of lace and silk. He knew his mother didn’t care for such frivolities, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see her in something that didn’t scream ‘farm wife’. He picked out a set of emerald-green lingerie that matched the dress perfectly, the fabric so fine it was almost transparent.

“What’s this for?” he asked, holding up a tall feather and four ribbon rope that had been tucked into the package. Miss Harriet’s smile grew even more knowing. “Ah, that’s for a little extra ... entertainment,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “It’s quite the rage in the city brothell. The girls wear it to tied their legs and wrists to bedpost during the intercourse, so the men will free use the feather to hers before the main event.”

Will felt his cheeks redden at the explicitness of her words, but he couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through him at the thought of seeing his mother in such an outfit. He nodded, placing the lingerie on the counter alongside the dress. “We’ll take that too,” he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady.

Miss Harriet’s eyes gleamed as she wrapped the garments in tissue paper, her movements deliberately slow and sensual. “I knew you had good taste,” she said, her voice a low purr. “I’ll have these delivered to your farm this afternoon.”

Will nodded, his mind racing with anticipation. He hadn’t told his mother about the surprise, wanting to keep it a secret until the last moment. The dress and lingerie were a declaration of his love and admiration, a way to show her that she was more than just a hardworking farmer’s wife.

“Miss Harriet, I’d like you to wrap this up special,” he said, pointing to the emerald dress and matching lingerie. “I’ll be delivering it to her myself.” His voice was firm, his eyes alight with excitement.

Miss Harriet raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her deft hands wrapping the delicate fabric in the finest paper with a flourish. She tied it off with a satin ribbon, the color of fresh blood, and handed it over with a knowing smile. “Good luck,” she murmured, her eyes lingering on the bulging package.

The walk back to the farm was a blur, Will’s thoughts racing with the events of the night and the implications of what he’d bought. He’d never seen his mother in anything but her sturdy work clothes, and the idea of her in such finery, adorned with the finest French lace, made his blood sing with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

As the sun began to set, casting the farm in a warm, golden glow, he waited anxiously for the delivery wagon to arrive. When it finally did, he rushed to the door, his heart pounding in his chest. The driver handed over the package with a knowing wink, and Will retreated to his room, his hands trembling slightly as he unwrapped the dress and lingerie.

The fabric was even more stunning up close, the emerald color deep and rich, like the heart of a forest. He laid the dress out on the bed, smoothing it with his hands, and set the lingerie beside it. Then, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. This was a gift, a symbol of his love and admiration, but it was also a testament to the power dynamics that ruled their lives.

As he made his way to the plantation where Mrs. McMillan was working, the sound of the hammer and the smell of fresh sawdust filled the air. She was always busy, never one to sit idly by while the work needed doing. He cleared his throat, his heart pounding in his chest as he approached her. “Ma,” he said, his voice thick with nerves. “I’ve got something for you.”