Will wasn’t sure how to tell Mary that he couldn’t afford to court her for a while because he would be spending even more time under the Tin Lizzies. Although most of the old farmers he knew were skeptical, Will felt certain the motor car business would thrive. His young friends were excited by anything that could go forty miles per hour. He was committed now, and Patterson expected him first thing Monday morning.
He thought about his agreement with Frank. His brother hadn’t always held the upper hand. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d challenged Will to a competition driving fence posts. They’d set and pounded posts from morning till night, agreed each day’s winner would be exempt from helping Walter for a week. After being whipped four straight days, Frank quit the contest. Will smiled as he remembered Frank’s chagrin when he had to do the milking all month. At the time Will felt so much pride in showing who was the better man that he decided he liked building fence lines. But maybe giving Frank that extra time with Grandpa wasn’t so good an idea after all.
Will pushed the uneasiness from his mind and concentrated on the beauty around him. Fanny stepped quickly through the new snow. Her rhythmic hoof beats harmonized with the cutter blades’ schuss across a white, velvet carpet that sparkled in the full-moon’s light. Southwest Wisconsin was never more beautiful than on a night like this, a night when fresh falling snow fluttered onto the pastures, houses, and roadways, covering them with a coat of white. No grubby fields, no filthy rooftops, no muddy roads, no darkness — only light. This white wonderland lifted Will’s spirits. All was right in his world. He would be with Mary tonight.
Although he knew that he wouldn’t finish milking in time to attend, Will had arranged to meet Mary at the Granger’s house party, and from there they would go to the hayride. Mary liked his little cutter, too. She said it looked like a Currier and Ives print. His friends said it was too small, but he thought it was perfect for courting. Will shivered at the thought of Mary pressed tightly against his side.
Mary paced the porch. She looked like a picture straight from a fashion magazine, in a red wool coat that was highlighted by floral embroidery down both sides of the button placket and her black high top boots. How could he deserve such a beauty? Could he afford to keep her in style? Will’s spirits sagged at the thought, but rose again when she ran down the steps and past Fred Schmidt without even saying a word.
Will helped Mary into the cutter, returned to the driver’s side, and pulled up beside her. When he clucked his tongue and flicked the reins, Fanny nickered softly and surged forward, moving as if she knew the importance of this night and wanted to do her part.
“I’ve never been on a hayride before, but my students talk about them all the time. Sometimes they whisper so I can’t hear.” Mary giggled. “Why’d they do that?”
“Gosh, I wouldn’t know, but maybe we’ll find out tonight.” He jostled her side. “Do you think?”
“You’re naughty.”
Will’s worries melted as the fluffy snow piled around them, and his spirits soared with Mary at his side.
Two teams of giant Belgians, hitched to sleighs so full that hay fell off the sides, stood alongside the Fitzsimmons’s barn. When Mary saw them she dropped her blanket, stood, and clasped her hands to her face. “Will, they’re beautiful. I’ve never seen such animals. They’re so big.” She reached out and touched the nose of the nearest one who responded with a head shake and a nicker. Mary pulled her hand back and laughed. “Whose are they?”
“William Fitzsimmons owns this farm. He loves matched pairs. Me, too, even if they aren’t Belgians. Dad says he’ll let me take his foil, Mabel, when she’s old enough. She’s a bookend to Fanny.”
Fanny voiced her approval.
“Do we have to wait for the others?” Mary said. “Can we find a spot in the hay?”
“Go up front, near the middle. Everyone else will want to hang their feet off the sides — until they get cold.” He handed Mary two wool blankets. “Take these. I’ll unhitch Fanny and put her in the barn.”
Mary climbed aboard, maneuvered around the bodies, and tiptoed toward the top of the wagon.
“I saw that,” Will shouted from the barn door. “You’re pretty agile for a town girl.” He ran to the sleigh, climbed aboard, and sank deep into the hay when he dropped beside her.
“I have to be, chasing students all day. Besides, agility’s in my genes. My ancestors were hard-rock miners. They had to snake through holes no bigger than those a badger would make.”
“You don’t look like a hard-rock miner,” Will said as he snuggled tight to her side.
“I’m lucky that Mother insisted I have a vocation. Otherwise, I’d not be so prettily dressed, nor have hands so soft. She slaved like a mule all her life, most miners’ wives do. I’ll not do that.” Will heard determination in her voice. “I’ll never earn a living by the sweat of my brow.”
Will’s heart sank.
“But enough about me. Is your Patterson job going to work out?”
Will had hoped to enjoy the night together before telling her the news. He pulled the blankets over their legs. “It’s getting chilly,” he said. Then he sat quiet for a long spell.
“Did I say something I shouldn’t?” Mary said.
“No, no, Mary, it’s just that — ”
“Hey, Will, got room up there?” a voice called from below.
Cutters, horses, and one Ford sedan filtered into the yard. Friends, acquaintances, and strangers scurried about tending their animals and filling the sleighs. People piled into the hay. Mostly they ignored everyone around them except the sweetheart they brought along. Like a church pew, the wagon’s outside spaces filled first. Blanket-covered legs dangled over the sides and bodies snuggled for warmth. That was the excuse, but a good bit of canoodlin’ put the lie to that claim. As stragglers pushed toward the wagon’s interior, tempers flared and complaints were voiced, but no hostilities erupted. Love, not violence, permeated the air.
“Will, that you up there?” Bill Yahnke called out as he helped his wife onto the wagon. Bill owned the Ford sedan parked next to the machine shed. “Patterson tells me you’re going to buy his business. Terrible ’bout his wife, isn’t it?”
“You’re buying the business?” Mary said. She flung the blanket aside and jumped up. Hands on her hips, she looked down at Will with a perplexed look on her face. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I was going to, but it’s not so fine as you might think.”
She cocked her head and wrinkled her brow. “Yes?”
He explained the terms, explained the demands it would make on his time and resources. “This may be our last night together for a while. Maybe for a long while. I’ll hardly have a dime to my name until I take over the dealership, and I can’t know what’ll happen afterwards. I’m excited about getting my own business, but I’m bothered, too. I don’t want to lose you.”
Mary dropped next to him, snuggled close, and took his hand. “You won’t lose me, Will. You’re a silly man if you think your work can keep us apart forever. My father left and we waited and waited, but he never came home. But I’ll know this time, you’ll be near all along.” She reached to him and turned his face to hers. “Besides, I have some money. And I can’t think of a better way to use it. I won’t let you spend all your time under an old Lizzie.”
Love overwhelmed Will. He should have known that his Mary would be there for him. Will pulled her close and felt weak all over when she reached up and kissed his cheek. He snuggled into her and kissed back. It was a passionate kiss. This time on the lips.
Will felt warmed to his innermost fiber. He was excited to see his future prospects matching his heartfelt desires, but he knew time could change things.