Chapter Nine
The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the homestead as Amy rounded up her little flock with an announcement that had everyone’s eyes sparkling. “Girls, we need to get ready—we’re heading to town for new dresses!”
Ruby’s shy smile peeked out from behind a curtain of hair, and Priscilla’s tiny feet danced a jig on the wooden floorboards. Beatrice, however, bore the air of someone bestowed a rare gift. “Two for me?” she verified, voice lilting with a mix of disbelief and delight.
“Yes,” confirmed Amy, tying on her bonnet. “The little girls still have dresses they can wear. Nothing you have fits anymore!”
As they made their way to the wagon, Beatrice practically floated to her seat beside Amy, each step a dance of anticipation. The wagon creaked under their weight, the horses snorting softly, ready to tread the familiar path to town.
“Ruffles would be so pretty,” mused Beatrice. “And maybe some lace right here...” She gestured delicately around her neck and wrists, her imagination painting elaborate garments in the air before them.
Amy chuckled, reining in both the horses and Beatrice’s fanciful ideas with gentle firmness. “We can put lace around your collar and sleeves, but remember, we need dresses for everyday life not big dance parties.”
“Of course, Amy,” Beatrice conceded with a playful roll of her eyes.
The bell above the store door jingled, heralding the arrival of Amy and her lively entourage. The shop’s cozy interior was linedwith bolts of fabric. Amy approached the counter, the reticule in her hand giving her the money she needed for her shopping.
“Goodness,” she murmured, thumbing through the folded bills Tim had entrusted to her care. Her brows knit together. This was more money than she’d seen in a long while, enough to make her head spin like a top.
“Is something wrong, Amy?” Beatrice asked, peering at Amy.
Amy hesitated, then shook her head, laughing softly at her own surprise. “It’s just...well, I didn’t expect so much.”
“Pa said it’s for groceries too,” Beatrice said. “He knows we eat a lot.”
“Yes, we do,” Amy agreed with a smile. “Well, let’s see about those fabrics, shall we?”
Ruby, quiet as a mouse but with eyes wide as saucers, pointed to a bolt of vibrant red cloth. “Like roses,” she whispered.
“More like rubies, don’t you think?” Amy asked, hugging the girl with one arm.
“Pink!” Priscilla declared. “Pink like... like candy!”
“Then pink it shall be,” Amy announced, her heart warmed by their simple joys. Beatrice, meanwhile, had wandered to a table laden with yard goods.
As Amy helped the girls pick out the perfect prints—a dainty floral for Ruby and playful polka dots for Priscilla—she couldn’t help but think how each fabric seemed to capture the girls’ personalities.
“Found anything you fancy, Beatrice?” asked Amy, glancing over at the eldest girl.
“Maybe,” Beatrice replied, the ghost of a smile on her face as she set the fabric aside. “But let’s get the little ones sorted first.”
“All right then,” Amy agreed, herding the excited children to the counter so they could put them down and continue shopping. As the clerk started their order, Amy realized that theexcursion had been successful, with all three girls excited that they were getting exactly what they wanted.
Beatrice drifted back to the table she had abandoned earlier, her gaze now settled on two bolts of fabric. The first was a sky blue adorned with delicate white flowers, and the second, a vibrant green as fresh as new leaves unfurling under the morning sun.
“Blue for the sky,” Beatrice murmured, almost to herself, “and green for the fields.” She looked up at Amy with a rare flicker of excitement in her eyes. “I like these.”
Amy beamed at her, thrilled at the girl’s budding enthusiasm “Those are beautiful choices, Beatrice. They’ll suit you perfectly.”
With the younger girls’ choices bundled and set aside, it was Amy’s turn to peruse the shelves. Her hands found a bolt of plain white fabric, smooth and cool to the touch—perfect for a nightgown to replace the one she’d worn threadbare. She would also be sure to get enough to make aprons for all three of the girls.
She thought she’d surprise the girls with them as soon as all three were done.
Amy’s fingers lingered on a roll of fabric that seemed to call out to her. It was a lovely floral print, a cascade of wildflowers that danced across a soft cream background. It was just the sort of dress she could wear when the weather turned fair, maybe to the Sunday service or to any summer parties.
“This one’s for me,” she said, a hint of dreaminess in her voice. Never before had she been given the opportunity to choose her own fabric for a dress. She was used to wearing the hand-me-downs all of the children in the foundling home had worn.
“Very pretty,” Beatrice acknowledged. “You’ll look nice in it.”
