Chapter 12

Hattie

As they were getting ready to go shopping, Helen had asked Hattie about her blue church dress. “Where did you get this, Hattie? I’ve never seen a dress quite like it.”

Hattie blushed. “Actually, I made it from the scraps of two of the working girls’ gowns, from the brothel.”

“You made this?”

“Yes, I needed something to wear to church and two of the girls got into a fight one night and tore both their dresses. Papa John wouldn’t let any girl wear a less than perfect dress, so they were going to throw them away. I asked them if I could have them and they said yes. So, as neither were suitable for church, they were made to entice lust, not be proper. I took them apart and combined them in a way to make something I could wear for church without looking like a servant.”

Helen’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew wide. “Are you telling me, this is two saloon dresses you reworked into this modest, yet flattering dress?”

“Yes, it wasn’t hard. I enjoy sewing.”

“Wait right here, please.”

Helen was out the door and knocking on Mrs. Williams’ door in a quick hurry. The two women came back into Hattie’s room together. “Tell Myrtle what you told me about this gown.”

Hattie repeated what she’d told Helen. About half way through the story, Myrtle started looking closely at the blue and white gown. She was examining stitches and the way the panels had been put together.

Helen looked at Myrtle. “She doesn’t even realize what she can do.”

Hattie’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about? It’s just simple sewing.”

Myrtle and Helen both shook their heads. “No, dear, what I’m wearing, that is simple sewing. I made this with a simple pattern and a bolt of uncut cloth. You made a beautiful gown out of two torn and inappropriate outfits. I wonder what you could come up with from scratch with the proper materials and accouterments.”

Helen jumped in. “Let’s find out. We have a catalog in the store with all the latest fashions from New York. No one buys them, they are so expensive and not very practical. Well, no one but Ernestine. I bet if we bought you some fabric and everything you need to sew, you could take a picture or two and make something unique and beautiful to wear. If they turn out as good as I think, you could even sell them.”

“Well, I like to sew. Do you think that would be cheaper than buying already made clothes?”

“I told you not to worry about the cost. But yes, it would be cheaper than ready-made.”

“Well, let’s look at the catalog first. If I find something I think I can make, then I’ll get the cloth and other stuff.”

Before they could talk any further, Lyla appeared in the door. “Hattie, you’re gonna be married before any of us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“None of us have had a single caller yet. Yours is here again. Pastor Bryce is in the parlor. He asked me to find you and Mrs. Williams. He wishes to speak to you in private. I think our teasing got to him yesterday.”

“Would you show him to my parlor then, Lyla? Mrs. Williams and I will be waiting.”

“Oh, I’m not leaving, either. If my cousin thinks he can get rid of me that easily, he has another think coming.”

Lyla smiled, and the three placed the dress back on its hanger in the wardrobe and went into the parlor to sit and wait for Joshua. The two others insisted she sit on the settee, so that Joshua could sit with her.

Lyla knocked and then opened the door and Joshua strode inside, going right over to Hattie and sitting beside her, taking her hands in his.

Helen smiled and couldn’t help but tease him as Lyla closed the door as she left. “Joshua, you just carried her to bed less than twelve hours ago. You are a greedy man to keep hogging her attention like this.”

Joshua didn’t even acknowledge his cousin. He took a deep breath and focused on Hattie. “I’m sorry for coming so early in the day. However, you asked me to let you know the moment I got a response to our telegram.”

“You got it? What do you know?”

“I’m sorry, Hattie, she didn’t make it.”

“What!! NO! Oh, this can’t be. Poor Pastor Long.”

She pulled her hands free and stood, one hand to her mouth, the other clutched to her chest. She took several steps toward her room.

“Hattie, where are you going?”

“I have to pack. I have to go back.”

She startled as Joshua stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Hattie, you can’t.”

She looked up at him. “What? Why not, Joshua? He’s all alone.”

“Hattie, nothing’s changed since you came here. Papa John is still there. He still wants you, and he has still threatened those who would help you. What would happen to Pastor Long if you went back?”

That stopped her. She crumpled into his arms and wept. Joshua was right, if she went back, Pastor Long would be in danger. Oh, why did her friend, her closer than a sister friend, have to die? “What am I going to do, Joshua? It hurts.”

He wrapped her tighter in a hug, his lips resting on the top of her head. “I know, darling. I know how badly it hurts to lose the ones you love.”

“But you go on. You weep, you grieve, and you put one foot in front of the other until the grief is less. Then you honor their passing with your own life.”

“I can’t even offer her father comfort. He’s going to be so lost without her.”

“You can write to him. He sent word to you through Andy. He said he would come visit you in the spring. So, you write to him until then. Give me the letter and I’ll send it in an envelope I’ll address myself, that way there will be no trail back to you for that outlaw to follow.”

He continued to hold her and though she knew she should move away, that the proper thing was to move away, she clung to him tighter. Hattie drew strength and comfort from his closeness. After a few minutes, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the settee and eased them down onto it. She was practically on his lap, but he didn’t move and the two women didn’t object, though they should have. She tucked her head into the hollow of his neck and wept for the loss of her first genuine friend.

Joshua held her and let her cry herself out. His only movement was the hand on her back, rubbing light circles of comfort. She heard Helen get up and leave the room, probably to inform the other women what had happened. Not that any of them would be affected like she was. Even the other Chicago girls hadn’t known Haddie, and now they never would.