letting Little Bit nurse, she couldn’t help but wonder if the pain in her chest was from the abundance of milk she had for the baby, or from what was lacking in her life.
Was she ready to take another man? She knew if she offered, he would take her in a heartbeat. But would it last? Even more important, was she ready to take a chance on love one more time? Losing it hurt so damned bad, she wasn’t sure she had the guts to try it again.
The day of the party finally arrived. The cooking was done. The house was decorated to the hilt with garlands of red ribbon and fragrant pine boughs. Katie and Alice had decorated a small cedar tree with bits of colored paper and ribbon. The sideboard was awash in dainty edibles, and Letty’s silver was as bright as a new moon.
Alice’s excitement was palpable as she flitted from room to room, making sure all was ready for the arrival of their guests. The final stitches on her plum-colored dress had gone in after midnight last night, as had the ones on the smock that Katie was wearing. Technically, she was a widow like Mary, but mourning a man like George seemed ridiculous considering what he’d done to all their lives. It was nothing less than a miracle that Letty Potter could forgive the misery her presence had caused, and she thanked God every night for delivering her unto this house.
Mary’s choice of black taffeta was befitting the widow she was, although she had yet to admit how pissed off she was at her Robert for the cowardly act of suicide. He’d thought nothing of what would befall her by leaving her alone, and she wondered if she was being a hypocrite to present herself to the public in this light. Still, she wouldn’t let it bother her. Not today.
Delilah had chosen a cream-colored taffeta to make her gown, and the demureness of the color was almost lost in the low neckline and tight fit. Tonight, she was going to be an elegant woman, and to hell with those who judged her past.
Letty had left the color of her dress a secret. All she’d admitted to was that it was Eulis’ favorite color on her. She’d fussed with her hair between tending to the baby, and finally chosen to pin it all up on top of her head and let the curls cascade down the back of her neck. She was leaving her throat and chest bare, except for a narrow, black velvet ribbon tied around her neck. Dangling from the ribbon was a single gold nugget, held within a cameo-like setting; a reminder of what had changed her life.
Downstairs, Robert Lee was carrying in extra wood for the fires, and making sure that the front porch had been swept free of snow and pine needles so that the guests wouldn’t be tracking up Letty’s floors.
Katie’s yellow smock, with the matching ribbons in her hair, made her look like the angel atop the Christmas tree. Alice had set her on a little chair near the parlor fireplace with orders not to mess herself up. It was an unnecessary warning. Katie didn’t want to miss a minute of the upcoming event.
When it was almost time for the guests to arrive, Robert Lee disappeared. It didn’t occur to Letty until she saw the first buggy pulling up to the house that he was missing, but by then it was too late to figure out why. After that, the arrival of guest became steady. While new arrivals were still stomping snow from their shoes, others were being shown into the parlor to join the festivities.
Letty stood at the door, calmly welcoming Denver City’s finest into her home—well aware that as they talked and smiled, they were mentally taking her apart. The funny thing was that she no longer cared what they thought.
Milton Feasley and his wife arrived in a flurry of awkward excitement, followed by Dr. Warren and his wife, Mildred. Amos Trueblood, her banker, preened as if he was responsible for all of this himself, and barbers, lawyers and a couple of dentists who’d set up shop down in town followed in on his heels. There were three new preachers who’d set up business down in town, as well as a few bachelors who didn’t miss the opportunity to check out the women who’d taken shelter in this place. Anyone who had a business, or had ever