Hill Country Cattleman. Laurie Kingery
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Violet smiled, wanting to put the girl at ease. Kate reminded Violet of a fawn poised for flight.
“I ain’t never heard—I mean, I’ve never heard a real English person talk before,” Kate said wonderingly. “Well, except for your brother, of course. You sound a bit like him, I reckon.”
“Mrs. Patterson, we’re here to buy some dress lengths, both for me and for Violet,” Milly said. “Do you still have that light blue cotton—oh, I see you do,” she said, spotting it on the shelf behind the woman and pointing to it. “What do you think, Violet?” she asked as the shopkeeper lifted it down and placed it on the counter between them.
Violet studied it, then took it to a nearby window to take advantage of the light. Milly has a good eye, she thought. The china-blue echoed the color of her eyes, and the fact that the cloth was sprigged with white flowers instead of the usual white background sprigged with colored flowers added interest.
“It’s eye-catching—I love it,” she praised. “I’m thinking white piping and buttons, perhaps a white sash with a bow at the bustle?”
“Exactly,” Milly said, and the two of them exchanged a grin of perfect understanding.
Mrs. Patterson glowed with satisfaction. “I got the latest Godey’s Lady’s Books—well, as ‘latest’ as there is in Simpson Creek, anyways—if y’all want to look at styles,” she said, bringing several magazines from under the counter. “And this ribbon is just what you’re talkin’ about, I think, and I got buttons that’ll look right fine....”
They spent an enjoyable hour perusing styles and discussing the merits of each, and each of them picked out an additional dress length and the accompanying notions.
“Oh, this will be such fun, learning to sew!” Violet enthused. Mrs. Patterson folded the cloth and wrapped up the selections in brown paper, and Milly counted out her coins. They’d already agreed that Violet was to pay Milly back for her cloth when they got back to the ranch. “I hope I’m good at it.”
“You ain’t—I mean, you never made any dresses before?” Kate Patterson asked. “I thought all women had to make their own clothes—and their menfolks’, too. Aunt Mary just recently started stocking some ready-made shirts and denim trousers, but those are mostly for cowboys passin’ through, folks like that who don’t have a woman to sew for ’em.”
“No, never,” Violet admitted. “I think it will be an adventure, starting from scratch like this, getting to choose one’s own style and trim.” She knew the ladies in her social circle back home would die before they’d ever turn their hands to such a task, but while she was here, she could be a different person.
“You’re so lucky Miss Milly’s your kin,” Kate said. “She’s the best seamstress in these parts. She even makes wedding dresses,” she said with awe. “She’ll teach you good, I’d wager.”
“Miss Milly’s one of my best customers,” Mrs. Patterson said in confirmation.
“Miss...that is, Violet, would you come in and show us the dress when it’s all made?”
“Of course,” Violet said.
At the sound of the bell tinkling over the door, Mrs. Patterson looked over Violet’s shoulder and called out, “Hello, Ella, what’s your cook out of now?”
Violet turned to see the black-haired girl who had waited on them at the hotel just a few days ago. As she had been then, she was dressed in the gray dress with a white apron.
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