The Reluctant Debutante (26 page)

Ginger went to her father’s side and knelt by his chair. He ran his hand lightly over her hair as tears filled her upturned eyes. “He is a good man, Papa.”

“Yes, daughter, I know. And he’s got the strength of character you need, for you are one strong lady yourself. Please talk to his mother, though, about what will be expected of you as a frontier wife before the marriage takes place. I want you to know firsthand what you’re getting yourself into. And, it’s most selfish of me, but I will miss having you beside me every day at the bank.”

“I think I will miss our time together at the bank most of all, too.”

“Now you know what you have to do, don’t you?”

“You mean, convince Mother to accept Joseph as the only man for me?”

George smiled. “It will be no easy task. She’s decided nothing less than a military man will suffice.”

“Will you not help me at all?”

“I’ll step in if needed, but this is something I’d rather the two of you discuss between yourselves. All I’ve ever wanted is peace and harmony in the family. And I told Joseph I expect no less than nine grandchildren from the pair of you, so the sooner you marry the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

Ginger glanced up in amazement at her father.
Well, bless my bloomers.

• • •

Mary Tall Feather opened the cedar trunk in the bedroom of her family’s home and reverently took her wedding dress from storage. It had been carefully wrapped in a piece of cloth. As she removed the cloth from the gown, Ginger’s breath escaped in a long sigh.

“It’s exquisite, Mary!”

She ran her fingers over the fine beadwork on the white deerskin, and the long fringe on the bottom edge of the skirt. Feathers were attached to the sleeves.

“Here, Ginger. Hold it up to you and let us see if it fits. We are about the same size.”

Ginger eagerly held the dress up and let her hands fondle the feathers. “Will I look good in this, Mary? It’s so different from anything I’ve ever worn before.”

Mary watched this white woman whom her eldest son had chosen for a wife. It was hoped, when her own father arranged her marriage, that she and her children would assimilate themselves into the white man’s culture.
So, this is to be the way
, she guessed. Her father was a wise man, and her son had chosen wisely. Ginger would be a most welcomed daughter.

“You would look lovely in anything you chose to wear on your wedding day. Try this on, and let me see if it needs any adjustment.”

As Ginger went behind a screen to change into the dress, she ventured a question. “Were you anxious on the night of your wedding?”

Mary laughed. “I was more frightened than anything. I was just a young woman, only fifteen years old.”

“But were you madly in love with Emile?”

Mary remembered the circumstances that led up to her hasty wedding. “No, I had not even met him. My father knew the Indian ways were soon to die out and the best way for his daughter to survive and prosper was to marry into white society. He waited for a capable man to come into his camp, one he thought could provide a decent life for me and give me many fine sons. When he met Emile, he asked if I could accompany him when he left.”

Ginger shivered as she stood in the same dress Mary had worn that day, imagining Mary’s emotions her first evening as a bride. Her heart went out to the frightened young girl, and was glad she now was a happy woman, with many strong sons and a lovely young daughter.

Ginger came out from behind the screen and the two women looked at each other.

Mary nodded before she declared, “It will do nicely.”

Ginger grasped Mary’s hands in her own. “Thank you, Mary, for allowing me to wear your gown. I think it is most fitting, because I’m about to begin a new life. Can you share with me some of what your daily life is like here? What challenges will I face? My father is also a wise man, and he told me you are the perfect person to tell me exactly what my new life will be like.”

“It will be much hard work. I will help you learn what is expected of you. But, at the end of each day, if you can climb into bed with the man you love, even life on the frontier can be rewarding.” Mary smiled at her, and kissed her cheek. “You are a good match for my Joseph.”

• • •

An hour later, when they emerged from the room, Ginger was surprised to find Joseph waiting for her. She thought he was out with the horses. But he had been pacing in the living room while she and Mary talked. She went to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Are you pacing because your mother and I took so long? And that she was telling me all your secrets?”

He smiled at her. “No,
ma petite
. Does my mother’s dress fit you?”

“Joseph, it’s the most gorgeous dress! I can’t wait for the ceremony.” She lowered her voice, “For more reasons than being able to wear the dress.”

He captured her lips in a light kiss. “Do you remember what I told you the night in the Hamptons cabin?”

“You told me many wonderful things that evening. Which are you referring to?”

“My reply when you asked if I planned to keep you barefoot and pregnant.”

Ginger smiled up at him as she remembered his response. “You said you would let me wear moccasins, as I recall.”

He released her and retrieved a box from under a chair. “Open it, please.”

Inside the box was the most exquisite pair of moccasins she had ever seen. They were light tan in color, highly beaded, and about mid-calf in height. There was a row of fringe around the cuff. She ran her fingers over them, luxuriating in the buttery-soft feel of the hide. Tears filled her eyes.

“Did you make these?”

He nodded. “I started them the day I got home from New York. I knew we would meet again. I remembered how your feet felt when I held them in my hands that night, after I took off your muddy boots, and was able to gauge the size of these moccasins from that memory.”

She reached up her hand and lowered his face to meet hers. As they kissed softly, she whispered, “
Gizahgin
, Joseph.”

The next day, Ginger and Basil went to the train station to meet Charlotte Fitzpatrick and Eleanor Gray. As Charlotte alighted from the train, she grabbed both of her children in a bear hug and began to wail.

“You have no idea the torment we went through until we got your telegram. I thought for certain my husband and two of my dear children had met the Grim Reaper, in an icy cold, watery grave. And Eleanor was certain Charles was a dead man.”

She pulled a linen handkerchief from her lacy reticule, which hung from her wrist on a drawstring, and began dabbing her eyes.

Ginger grinned at her mother. “Such melodrama, Mother. Although far too many people did lose their lives in an icy, watery grave, and we could easily have been among those less fortunate. Mr. Gray got the worst of it, but he’s mending nicely now. Come, I’ll take you to see Papa and Mr. Gray.” She hugged both Mrs. Gray and her mother.

The two ladies smoothed their modest silk traveling dresses and positioned their bonnets on their curls. Despite the fact they had been traveling for days on the train, they looked like the high society ladies they indeed were in their fashionable dresses of navy and brown. They pulled their matching velvet mantillas around their shoulders to ward off the late November chill and hurried away from the wooden station platform to the luxurious hotel across the street. Basil stayed behind to collect their bags.

Ginger showed Eleanor to her husband’s room. Charles was finally able to reduce the amount of pain medicine he was taking, and he remained lucid for longer amounts of time, so Ginger was almost certain Mrs. Gray would find him awake. Charlotte and Ginger continued on to the next room, and George.

Charlotte again burst into tears when she glimpsed her husband with his arm in a sling. George smiled, wrapped his good arm around her, and then kissed her.

“There, there. It’s all right now. Everything’s all right, now that you’re here.”

“But you must have been in such pain. It hurts me just to look at your arm now. I can’t imagine.”

“Well, thanks to Ginger, I received excellent emergency treatment on site. I was her first patient.”

Charlotte’s head swiveled from George to Ginger. “Whatever are you talking about? Ginger has no medical training.”

“It may have gone unnoticed by you, Mother, in all the flurry of the season, but I met Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell in the spring. Remember, I told you Amelia Bloomer and I got to spend time with her?”

“Elizabeth whom, dear?”

“Elizabeth Blackwell, the first female doctor in the United States. I met her when she came to the city last spring. She and her sister plan to set up an infirmary where women can learn medicine, and she tested her theories on a group of us. I never thought I’d be using her techniques quite as much as I did, but it was fortunate I had the training. It certainly came in handy. I’ll have to send her a letter when all the dust from this trip settles.”

“You mean you worked as a nurse at the site of the crash? You bandaged up people? You saw blood?”

Ginger grinned, remembering how her mother always fainted at the sight of blood. “Yes, Mother. I used up all my petticoats and some of my skirt to bandage people’s wounds. There was rather a lot of blood, and muck and cold and rain. It was a truly awful ordeal and something I prefer not to talk about now. For the time being, could we not relive the terrible ride and go to visit the Grays instead?”

The Fitzpatricks trooped over to Charles’s room, because he was still fairly immobile. His eyes were clearer, and the color was returning to his face. Ginger went to him and took his hand.

“Mr. Gray, Mrs. Gray, I’m so sorry I ever got you involved with the railroads,” Ginger apologized. “After all, if I hadn’t pushed you to invest heavily with them, none of us would have been on the train. And I can only imagine what this accident has done to the price of the Pacific Railroad’s stock. Your poor portfolio has probably taken a beating, and it’s all my fault.”

Charles squeezed her hand slightly, and a ghost of a smile flickered across his face. “Whatever are you talking about, my dear? None of this was your fault. We are all alive, which is a good thing. And while it is an event that we and our offspring will always remember, I don’t think anything will dampen the enthusiasm for the railroads for long. They are too vital to the settlement of this grand country. This is the most excitement any of us has ever had. So let us rejoice in our not-so-small accomplishment of getting out of the disaster with our lives, and look forward to returning to New York, where we can tell the tale over and over again at dinner parties.”

George’s eyes danced as he looked at his best friend. “Well said, Charles. We should begin to plan our return to New York soon.”

Ginger kept hold of Mr. Gray’s hand as she turned to face her mother. “I’m afraid the dinner parties in New York will have to be held without my presence. I won’t be returning with you. I’m staying here in St. Louis.”

Ginger registered Charlotte’s sharp intake of breath even from where she was standing. She stared at her mother and their eyes flashed.

“Has Basil relented then and allowed you into the bank? Please, dear, tell me a new position at the bank is the only reason why you’re going to stay here.”

“No, Mother. There’s another, and much more important, reason for me to stay behind.”

“Have you seen that half ... that, uh ... Joseph since you’ve been here?”

“That Joseph, as you call him, saved Basil and Mr. Gray from the wreckage of the railcars. You should be bowing before him in thanks and admiration, instead of speaking his name as if it was manure on your shoes!”

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private, rather than in front of the Grays,” Charlotte said uncomfortably.

“As you wish, Mother.” Ginger turned to Charles and Eleanor Gray. “I hope you have a pleasant evening. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Ginger left the room with a graceful step, her head held high. George and Charlotte hurried after her. In the Fitzpatricks’ room, Ginger looked imploringly at her father, who suddenly seemed very interested in his fingernails. Then she turned to face her mother. Charlotte lowered her eyes and fluffed the ruffles of her dress.

“Of course I’m grateful, Ginger, for what Joseph did to help save Basil and Charles. And for finding you in the woods at the Hamptons last July, for that matter. But, being thankful doesn’t overcome the fact he is totally unsuitable for you. He’s a heathen, you’re a Christian; he’s a rancher, you’re a fashionable socialite, he’s a ...”

“Enough, Mother! I’m well aware of what you think Joseph is and isn’t, and I don’t care! I love him. I will never fit into the social circles of New York, as you are well aware. Lord knows you’ve tried your best to make it happen, but my views of what life should be like for all of us, not just men, are diametrically opposed to society’s notion of what duties a woman should have.” Her eyes flashed at her mother.

“You also know, if it weren’t for Papa’s indulgence, I would never have been allowed to work in the bank, or anywhere outside the home. Working is the only way I’ve been able to tolerate my life these past few years. I am nineteen, and capable of making my own decisions, so this is what I’m going to do. Joseph and I are getting married tomorrow or the next day, at his father’s ranch. I’d like you and Papa to stay for the wedding, but only if you could at least pretend to be happy for me during the celebration.”

Ginger watched as her mother swallowed hard at the announcement. Charlotte glanced at her defiant daughter, and sighed. “I was so afraid something like this would happen if you came on this trip. This is not what I planned for you.”

“My mind is made up, Mother. Can you try to be pleased for me?”

Charlotte brushed the tears from her eyes as she took in Ginger’s raised chin and straight posture. She walked over to her and took her daughter’s hand, letting out a deep breath. “I know what the look on your face means, and I know there will be no changing your mind. You have been a willful child since you came out of the womb, so I suppose your desire to marry an Indian should not be so surprising. And your father and I can’t ever seem to say no to you. I must insist, though, that this union be legal in the eyes of the state. You will need to find, at the very least, a justice of the peace, if not a minister from the Church of England. So, if you can meet my small request and you’d like us to stay for the wedding, we’d be delighted. But first things first. Whatever will you wear for a bridal gown?”