Page 39 of My Darling Clementine

Mother and married daughter howled with peals of raucous laughter, and Kizzy shook her head at Debbie, who shrugged back. That only made the other two laugh harder, and it spread throughout the room, a lusty reference to her imminent passage into womanhood.

“Maybe you can explain it to me, tomorrow?” asked Debbie as the surrounding merriment grew.

“Or I will, little girl,” said Abbie, with a fond pat to her youngest daughter’s shoulder. “It’s time you knew the facts of life anyway, so’s you don’t find yourself,” a brief pause and glance at her older sister, “in a family way before you’re ready.” Her lips firmed, but she was smiling. “Speaking of which, where is my granddaughter?”

“With her daddy visiting his parents for the night.” Lucille’s deft fingers twisted Kizzy’s hair into an elegant chignon atop her head. “He’s good with her that way.” She smiled at Kizzy. “Are you planning on starting a family right away?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “we haven’t talked about it.” No reason to.

“Oh,” said Abbie with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t advise morning sickness on the trail. Did your mother talk to you about how to keep from getting…?” She winked and nodded at Debbie, who was busy fastening the veil to the top of her hair.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Kizzy hurried to assure her. “There’s a tea to brew, and a poultice to use if I’m late, and she wrote some other things down for me, too.”

“Oh, good,” said Mrs. Blair, seeming a bit disappointed. “There are ways for women to prevent pregnancy that don’t need a tea, but maybe your mother went over those, too?”

Kizzy did not know what she meant, but nodded with as much assurance as she could muster. She raised one eyebrow and nodded, first at Abbie and then at Lucille, both of whom smiled back with a knowing twinkle in their eyes. She’d have to ask Clem if she knew what they were talking about.

Gabby knocked on the door and, without waiting for an invitation, burst in, tossing a small bag inside the door. “These are Mr. Dennison’s things. Mrs. Bates says they’re ready to start downstairs, and I should find out if you are, too, Miss Walker?”

Kizzy stood and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “As I will ever be,” she said. “I’m beautiful, thanks to you.” She smiled and turned to Gabby, dressed in an outgrown white dress, short at the wrist and showing her ankles, wearing a pretty wreath of flowers knotted in her hair. In the mirror’s reflection, Kizzy spied the blue ribbon tied in a pretty bow around the cardboard box. With a few steps, she plucked it free, causing Abbie to have a sudden conniption.

“No, don’t! Wait…” the seamstress said, arms up and rushing toward Kizzy. When she saw all she’d been after was the ribbon, she stopped in mid-stride. “Oh, good.” She took a breath. “Mr. Copperbottlebopper,” she laughed, “was most insistent that box be tied up for you to open after the wedding.” She smiled. “And no, I’ve been sworn to secrecy, so I won’t tell you what’s in it.”

That made Kizzy’s imagination run wild as she tied the blue ribbon around Gabby’s waist in a pretty bow. Her eyes twinkled as she said, “Now we’re both wearing blue, and your flowers will match mine. That makes you an official member of the wedding party. Now, you go wait beside Clem at the bottom of the stairs. He’ll give you my bouquet to carry as you walk in front of us. When we get to the judge you hand it to me, and then go sit where Mrs. Bates tells you.”

“Okay, that’s easy. They said you should wait for the fiddler to play before you come down.”

“I will.”

Mrs. Blair and her girls each gave Kizzy a hug and went down with Gabby. She locked the hotel room door and stood on the landing, tucking the room key in her palm before tugging on her fancy gloves. Waiting out of sight, she listened to the sound of enthusiastic voices in the hotel lobby below as they faded away, filing into the parlor. As silence descended, all her doubts and worries faded into a growing sense of wonder and excitement.

At the fiddler’s first notes, she danced to the top of the stairs on light feet. Her next few steps would change her life forever.

Chapter ten

The Wedding

Mr. Bates stood counting the till next to his barkeep. “Mrs. Bates thinks I need a beer to keep me busy.” Clem tossed a coin on the bar. “Smart woman, your wife.”

“And yours is a pretty one, Mr. Dennison,” said the hotel owner, drawing her a beer. “Where’d you meet her?”

They hadn’t discussed this. “My father knew her mother’s people,” she offered. It was enough, the two men nodded. “It’s an arranged thing,” she improvised, “we’ve only met a few times over the years.” She grinned and waggled an eyebrow as she sipped her beer. “Last time I saw her she was a scrawny little thing.”

“Mr. Dennison,” called Gabby as she carried two full buckets outside to dump on a well- tended vegetable garden, “I’m carrying water up to your tub now. Your bath will be ready in ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Miss…” Clem started to say, but she was already gone. “Say, what’s that girl’s name? She looks awful young for this kind of job.”

Mr. Bates stroked the chin of his long face, staring after the girl as she passed back through with her empty pails, headed for the vat of boiling water in the kitchen. “That’s Gabby, my brother’s girl. Her ma died in childbirth, her pa got shot in a bar fight some time back, and she’s been living with us ever since. We give her room and board in exchange for helping around the place, and I put five dollars in the bank for her every month.” His eyes softened. “She’s a good girl, but not smart.” He tapped his forehead. “Gets the craziest ideas sometimes.” He shook his head, but came around the bar and followed her. “I’ll give her a hand with that water, and then I’ll take your duds in and lay them on the bed for you.”

Clem nodded as she finished her beer. “Fill it up,” she said to the barkeep, “and I’ll take it upstairs with me.” She ran a hand over her chin and lip. “I don’t want to scratch my bride,” she joked with him, “so I won’t drink it ‘til after I shave.”

She carried her beer upstairs, moving aside once as Gabby rushed downstairs with empty pails to refill, and again when Mr. Bates went around her carrying the suit of clothes she’d left earlier with his wife, freshly starched and pressed. He laid them out as she entered, and Gabby whizzed past and around to dump the last two pails of hot water in the tub before dropping a quick curtsy and rushing out the door. Her uncle turned to follow, asking, “You need any help getting dressed, young man? Know how to knot that tie, do you?”

Clem chuckled, deep in her throat. “Been dressing myself for most of twenty-three years now.” She held up her beer. “Any help I need is in here.”

“Then I’ll leave you in expert hands.” He chuckled, closing the door behind him.

She waited until she heard him walk down the stairs, then turned the key in the lock and removed it. Crossing to the window, she lowered the shade and drew the curtains against the late summer sunset. Striking a match, it sputtered as she lit the kerosene lamp beside the bed.