Will rose earlier than usual to prepare for the day’s work. While he dressed he noticed the contrast of his deeply tanned arms against his white body. His skin felt taut and his muscles firm under his shirt. A couple weeks of hard work under the hot spring sun was beginning to shape him into the farmer he’d wanted to be. And it felt good. His excitement grew as he planned to prepare the ground for spring planting. He could see that the field had been plowed last fall and then disc-harrowed to fill the furrows and break up the clods.
Unfortunately, when Barnes put his disc harrow away, he’d stored it in front of the spike harrow that Will wanted to use today. It would have saved a lot of time if Barnes had positioned the spike harrow for spring planting. Will anticipated preparing a seed bed by raking out the new, small weeds and loosening the topsoil so water could soak into the subsoil.
Will was glad that no one was around to hear the cuss words he uttered as he positioned the heavy disc harrow so that his big horses could back into the hitch and pull it out. He growled in frustration over having to do the same with the spike harrow in back. He couldn’t be too critical of old Mr. Barnes. More than once, when he was just too tired to do the work, Will had ignored the adage that he’d preached to his daughters: don’t put off for tomorrow what you can do today. And he supposed that last fall, knowing he was about to lose the farm, was a hellish time for Barnes. Will wondered how hard he would have worked if everything he owned was about to be taken away.
After he moved the spike harrow from the tool shed, Will headed for morning milking. He was about halfway through when he heard Ruby and Catherine engaged in what sounded like an intense discussion. Will didn’t like to intrude on his daughters’ conversations, but when he heard Ruby say “Gusta,” that grabbed his attention. He knew that Mary had just gotten a letter from Aunt Allie, but he thought she was keeping that to herself.
Mary’s brother Nick had been gone for more than ten years now. He died far too young, wasted away from some debilitating disease, probably from the cyanide that he used to separate gold from rock during the mining process. And Allie was having trouble handling their only child, Gusta. She must be sixteen years old now. Mary had said that Gusta was being sent here because she had stabbed a too-ardent, rich man’s son in the arm with her penknife. Gusta’s mother wondered what she might have done to lead the boy on. Will knew that’s why Mary had kept the letter from his girls.
“Cathy, you’ll never guess what I heard Mom tell Dad,” Ruby said. “Aunt Allie’s sending Gusta to live with us. She wants Mom to teach Gusta discipline. She’s getting to be a… a vamp.”
“I thought vamps lived in Chicago,” Catherine said.
“Silly, vamps wear naughty clothes.”
Will was used to his daughters passing secrets as if they were alone in the barn. He wasn’t sure whether the girls talked openly because they trusted him or because they forgot he was there. And he knew they didn’t like milking, so he supposed the conversations speeded the chore along. Either that or sing. They sang a lot, too, and he loved listening to his girls’ voices.
“Gusta has naughty clothes,” Ruby said. “In her last letter, she said she has a dress that you can see right through.” Ruby flicked her braid over a shoulder and smirked. “I’d wear it, even if you could see my bloomers.”
“Mom better not see them.”
Will laughed to himself. He knew that Catherine was right on that one.
“Mom’s tough, but it’ll be a challenge.” Ruby tossed her hips. “Gusta’s strong-willed. I like her.”
Although he found little time for it, tonight Will was intent on catching up on his last two issues of Hoard’s Dairyman. And it was a good time because Mary was leaving for church choir practice. So after the evening milking he changed into clean clothes, replaced his barn boots with slippers, and headed for his big, horsehair easy chair in the parlor. Catherine worked on her poetry anthology at the living room writing desk, while Sharon, sitting on the parlor sofa, waited to teach Ruby how to knit. Will knew that neither Sharon nor Ruby were eager to proceed, but Mary had insisted that Ruby and Catherine must learn a few womanly tasks, and tonight was Ruby’s turn.
Sharon was so different from her younger sisters. Will doubted that she could tempt a single drop of milk from his most cooperative cow, nor would she even try. Her interest was housework. And Mary was delighted by that. Will supposed it began when she was young, when she had two little sisters to help care for. Or maybe she was just inclined toward domestic tasks.
Sharon had taken two balls of yarn and two sets of knitting needles from Mary’s sewing basket, and she sat waiting for her sister, who, after milking, had stopped at the little house out back. Sharon sat patiently for a while, but then she began to fidget. She picked up a needle, fished the yarn end from the ball, and, absentmindedly, began looping and straightening the yarn. Five minutes passed, then ten. Will saw Sharon slip the loop onto the needle, peel it off, slip it on again, frowned while she looked toward the kitchen door, paused, then she pulled another loop over the needle. She repeated this a few times while her foot began tapping in rhythm to her finger movements. Finally, she threw the yarn and needles down, stood up, and mumbled, “Where is that girl? I’m losing patience.”
Will knew that Ruby could anger even her patient, older sister when she chose to be obstinate. So to keep the peace, he laid his magazine down and headed for the kitchen door. Five minutes later, Ruby, looking as if she’d rather be shoveling fresh cow manure, followed him into the parlor.
“Well, it’s about time,” Sharon said. “Don’t think that I want to do this, either. I could have had a scarf knitted and a matching mitten started while waiting for you.”
At first Ruby stood with her hands on her hips and stared sullenly at her sister, but when Mary stuck her head through the doorway and glared in her direction, she flopped down beside Sharon and said, “Okay, okay, I’m here. Let’s get this started.”
Will heard car brakes outside.
Mary called, “Marge Roberts is here. I’m leaving now.”
Sharon frowned at Ruby. “Do what I do.” Sharon thrust a ball of yarn and two needles at Ruby, and then she made a loop in her yarn, with the end that was attached to the ball looped over the top.
Ruby copied Sharon as she made a knot in the loop and tightened it around a needle. Then Sharon added more stitches to the needle. “This is called casting on,” she said.
Ruby dutifully did her casting, but by the look on her face, Will could see that she would rather be back in the smelly outhouse.
Sharon draped the strand of hanging yarn behind her left hand and brought it across her palm, and then she looped it around the knitting needle.
When Ruby did it all wrong, Sharon said, “I’m only the number two student in my class, and I don’t have any trouble.”
Will knew that Sharon had always been a bit jealous of Ruby’s and Catherine’s top standing in their classes.
Ruby looked more closely at Sharon’s work and copied it perfectly, while she commented, “I bet you can’t dissect a toad.”
Will smiled to himself at Ruby’s response. Sharon had an irrational fear of toads, but he doubted that his oldest daughter would willingly dissect anything. He also knew the dissections they did in Ruby’s biology class were on worms, mice, and crayfish, maybe on frogs—but not toads.
“I’ll make this a pre-primer lesson, just for you, Ruby. We’ll only do the simplest of stitches.”
Then she went through the next few steps so rapidly that Will’s eyes couldn’t follow.
Ruby threw her needles and yarn on the floor, surged off the sofa, and shouted, “I’m going to bed.”
As Ruby raced up the stairs, Sharon smiled toward her sister’s backside but continued her lesson on speed knitting. Will knew the scarf would be well along by the time his oldest daughter retired to her bedroom. And despite Mary’s insistence, Will knew that his middle daughter wasn’t cut out for domestic life.
* * *
Mary O’Shaughnessy didn’t mention the letter until two nights later when the family gathered for supper. “Girls, I received a letter from Aunt Allie saying that Gusta’s coming to stay with us this summer, and next school year, too.”
“Mom!” Sharon screamed.
“Shush, Sharon. I’ll tell you the truth. Aunt Allie says Gusta’s high spirited and that she needs discipline.”
“Mom’ll teach her discipline,” Catherine said.
“We don’t have room for anyone else,” Sharon said. “She can’t sleep in my bedroom. It’s too small, and there’s no space in my closet. Besides, I’ve never liked her ways. She’s too much like a… a… floozy. She’ll embarrass us.”
Mary glared at Sharon. “It’ll work because we’ll make it work. There’s always a place here for family. This is a Christian home, and you’ll live up to His teachings. Must I remind you of the prodigal son?”
“She’s not your daughter,” Sharon cried.
“She’s my dead brother’s daughter,” Mary said. “And that’s close enough. I won’t hear another complaint.”
“Where will she sleep?” Ruby said. “Will you clean out an upstairs storeroom?”
“I’m not ready to get rid of our extra furniture,” Mary said. “Dad’ll pull a cot into your and Catherine’s room.” She turned to Will. “You can pull that old cot down from the attic.”
Mary eyed Sharon. “And to show that her heart’s in the right place, Sharon will clean up the cot.”
Sharon glared.
Will could see that Sharon’s heart wasn’t where Mary wanted it to be—not in the least.
“Sharon, I can’t make you like it, but you will do it. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Mary turned toward her other two daughters. “You’ll need to make space for her clothes in your closet. Now, go do your school work. It’s getting late.”
Given what he’d heard about Gusta’s wardrobe, Will thought that closet space could be a problem. But he could see that Mary was determined to weave her wayward niece into the fabric of their happy home. He knew it would be a challenge.
* * *
Today they’d meet Gusta at the station. Packed into the buggy, they headed for town and arrived at the depot with time to spare. The train was later than usual, but Will soon felt the tracks vibrate, and before he heard the whistle in the distance, he saw puffs of smoke over the bluff where they’d picked blackberries in summer.
Catherine watched intently as the train pulled into the station—whistle blowing, drive wheels screeching, bell clanging. “Why can’t the train stop and let Gusta out at our farm?” she said. “The track runs within fifty yards of our house.”
“The train would never be on time if it stopped at every farmhouse,” Will said.
Mr. Franklin, the stationmaster, waited with a cart while the engine pulled up to the platform. He always seemed to know when it was about to arrive. Will supposed he had received a telegraph message, but maybe he just knew.
Will scanned the passenger cars, but before the train stopped, Ruby shouted, “There she is,” and pointed toward the engine.
All eyes turned upward, and the waiting crowd emitted an audible gasp when they saw a young lady perched atop the coal tender. Gusta wore a fringed buckskin skirt and a red chenille shirt with a white floral pattern, white fringed trim, and a black yoke and collar. She sported a red Stetson and red boots and twirled a lariat while she sang, “Buffalo gals won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight, come out tonight! Buffalo gals won’t you come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon!”
“Oh, good Lord,” Ruby said.
“The hussy,” Sharon said.
Catherine stared, mouth open.
Mary ran toward the engine. “Get down from there this instant,” she called. Then she turned to the engineer. “What did you do to my niece? She could have been killed. I’ll have your job for this.”
“Lady, I was too busy reining this beast in to babysit your kin. She crawled up there on her own.”
Gusta climbed down and hugged her aunt as if she never planned to let go. “Aunt Mary, I was so excited to see you that I just couldn’t help myself. Back home, I’d have saluted you from atop a saddle, but I didn’t have a horse, only this iron one. Please, don’t be angry, Aunt Mary.”
Mary O’Shaughnessy melted.
Sharon didn’t. She spun away and strode back to the buggy.
Will stepped forward and took Gusta’s soft hand between his two burly ones. “Welcome to Wisconsin, my little Texas cowgirl.”
“Uncle Will. It’s been so long. I can’t wait to hear your latest story.”
“Did you hear about the Irishman who visited Texas?”
Ruby frowned. “Dad!”
“Yes, my dear,” Will said. “Gusta, is your suitcase in the passenger car?”
“Uncle Will, I brought two trunks and four suitcases. They’re all in the baggage car.”
Will gasped. “We don’t have room, not in the buggy or the house.”
Mary stepped forward. “We’ll make room. There’s space in the attic.”
Will talked to Mr. Franklin, and with his help, he began to slide the luggage onto the platform. “I’ll send my girls back for this in the morning.”
While they walked to the buggy, Will heard Ruby say to Catherine, “Something’s fishy here, sister.”
“What do you mean?”
“How’d Gusta get on top that coal tender? It’s fifteen miles back to the Spring Green station. Surely she didn’t climb up there and ride the whole way.”
Will had wondered about that, too.
“Ask her,” Catherine said.
“I will.”
When Ruby and Catherine caught up with everyone at the buggy, Ruby asked Gusta, “Surely you didn’t ride in that smelly coal all the way from Spring Green?”
“Well, cousin, you’re right. I didn’t ride the tender from Spring Green. I rode the engine.”
“The engine?” Ruby said. “I’ve heard that it’s against rules for passengers to ride the engine.”
Gusta lowered her voice. Will leaned in to hear this answer. “Ruby, you don’t know men. Why, I just smiled real pretty and batted my lashes, and that engineer didn’t mind one little bit. I crawled atop the tender when he was busy stopping the train.”
Catherine stood slack-jawed.
Will could see that Mary was about to get all she could handle. He had confidence, though. His Mary was a resolute woman.
“Uncle Will, can we get two suitcases in the buggy? I must bring two today.”
“I’d planned to take one home today and come back tomorrow for the rest. I don’t think there’s room enough in the buggy.”
“But, Uncle Will, I must take two. I have my . . . well . . . my unmentionables in one, and I just must bring the other. It has the presents I brought for everyone. I’ve worried the whole trip that I selected properly. I won’t sleep tonight if I don’t know how y’all like my gifts.”
Sharon insisted upon sitting in front with Mary and Will, while her cousin and sisters hid in back under Gusta’s two suitcases.
That night the family gathered to watch Gusta remove each gift from her suitcase and present it to its recipient. Will had never seen gifts so beautifully wrapped. Perfectly proportioned folds created the impression of seamless blue paper that was adorned with red and blue ribbons that coiled into rose petals at the bow. Gusta gave each of the girls a western blouse—Ruby’s with a floral print embroidered on the yoke and light blue cotton cuffs; Catherine’s a yellow denim with a beaded rose pattern on front and back yokes; and Sharon’s a black gabardine with embroidered red and yellow tulips across the front. She also gave each a turquoise and silver pendant and a turquoise row bracelet.
Gusta gave Mary a Spanish piano shawl made of black silk covered with rose, blue, and white silk embroidered flowers. An eighteen-inch, black silk fringe surrounded the entire shawl. “Aunt Mary, I had Mom’s seamstress make this to your size. Mom wrote to Grandma Tregonning to get your measurements. I have one for her, too.”
Gusta even remembered Sharon’s new beau, Ed Meadows. She handed Sharon a turquoise cluster belt buckle with seventeen gems set in silver and a calfskin ranger belt. Its buckle and the first two loops were set with turquoise gems. They admired their gifts while Gusta presented the last package to Will. When he opened it, Mary cried out, “That’s Nick’s meerschaum pipe. He wrote that he bought it during his last trip to Europe. But he fell ill soon after he returned and his lungs were so bad that his doctors insisted he shouldn’t use any tobacco.”
“Uncle Will, Mother said that Daddy would have liked for you to have this. She’s wanted to send it ever since he died, but she just couldn’t give it up. She said that now I’m visiting, it’s time you got it.”
Will handled the pipe like a mother might touch her first born.
“Most of the gemstones are turquoise that Daddy dug from the prairie when he was superintendent of the Gold Road’s Mine at Kingman. I found an old Navajo craftsman who cut, polished, and set each stone in silver. I do hope y’all like these little things.”
Mary dabbed at her tear-stained face.
“I’m sorry that I made you carry all this stuff home, Uncle Will, but I couldn’t wait one more day before giving you these gifts. I picked them out and wrapped them myself. I was so excited for you to get them.”
“How could you have known about Ed?” Sharon said. “We only began dating last fall?”
“I read Aunt Mary’s letters. I do hope he likes them. I so want for us all to be happy together, to be family.”
Sharon pulled Gusta forward and hugged her. “I’m sorry for not being friendly, Gusta. I’m not used to, well, you know, not used to someone so flamboyant. Welcome to our home.”
Mary walked to the organ. “Gusta, we don’t have the money to buy nice presents, but we’d like to welcome you to our home with an evening songfest. Before I begin, let Ruby tell you what we’ve planned for an official welcome. This was the girls’ idea.”
“A week from Saturday,” Ruby said, “we’re going to hold a dance right here in your honor. We want you to meet our neighbors and friends. We want them to become your friends, too.”
“Whoopee,” Gusta shouted. “There’s nothing I like better than a dance. I’ll teach y’all the Texas two-step.”
As Mary played “The Eyes of Texas are Upon You,” Will was glad that Gusta seemed enthused about her exile to the Northland, but he worried that she might turn their happy little family’s harmony topsy-turvy.