Twenty-five

Nineteen year old Cynthia McGoo had much of her mother's sweet nature. She was fair of face with princess yellow hair and tiny waist and feet. She was marrying Douglas Bodkin, the banker's oldest son. The wedding was to be the social highlight of the summer season in Dodge City.

It so happened, Matt and Matilda's next visit to Mrs. McGoo's home on Saturday evening, three days later was for a dinner party honoring the betrothed couple. The guests included Myrtle's eldest daughter Clara Belle McGoo Feeney, her husband Felix, their children, Oliver two, and Albert six months, and Mr. and Mrs. Bodkin and their children Douglas, Phillip who was twelve and of course Angel Louise.

Matilda was very excited when her father told her they would be visiting Mrs. McGoo again. For in Mrs. McGoo she had found someone who had liked her without any determination to change her. That was a rare occurrence in the little girl's life. Mrs. McGoo was soft and warm and smelled of vanilla and lavender and fresh baked cookies. She was kind and nurturing and made Matilda feel important and loved. Yes, that was ingredient that had been missing, for the only person in her whole entire life who had treated her with the same tender devotion had been her own mother and that had been on a very part time basis only.

Miss Prudy opened the door and escorted Matt and Matilda into the formal parlor of Mrs. McGoo's home on Spring St. Matilda's heart sunk when she saw they were not the only guests that evening. They walked in to a room full of strangers along with one face she knew all too well. At the sight of Angel Louise, Matilda backed out of the parlor and her father had to drag her back into it. However, it was obvious Angel Louise had had a change of heart for she stepped forward and greeted Matilda like a long lost friend. She held out her hand to Matilda, "Cynthia is going to show us her wedding dress and my flower girl dress. I'm going to be in the wedding too. Come on!"

To clarify matters here, Angel Louise's change of heart can be best explained by the fact her father was a business man. Matt Dillon was one of his bank's largest depositors by way of the sizeable inheritance of Kitty Russell's estate. Now the fact that money was lying for the most part dormant made Mr. Bodkin nervous, he had no desire to cause any additional friction between the two families and had given Angel Louise no uncertain directives as far as her behavior toward the Dillon girl.

This knowledge may have been lost to Matilda, but Dillon immediately picked up on it when the portly banker jumped from his seat and made overtures of welcome. "Have a cigar Marshal, they're from Havana … only the best!" Not nearly so pleased to see the Marshal was Mr. Dinsdale Hinkle. Mr. Hinkle was tall and thin, with large ears and big hands and a meager but well groomed moustache. He all but glared at Matt. He offered no word of greeting. Mr. Bodkin continued, "The ladies have all adjourned upstairs to look at the bridal gown and Miss Cynthia's trousseau, leaving us men to fend for ourselves until dinner is ready."

Meanwhile, Matilda was pulled by Angel Louise up the main staircase to the second floor, they ran down a long hall of closed doors until they came to the last bedroom. It was here that the ladies had gathered.

In this room were long tables for cutting patterns, shelves lined with bolts of fabric, laces, threads and other notions, and at center stage, under a large double window, stood a beautiful state of the art Wilcox-Gibbs sewing machine, which was housed in an elaborate golden oak cabinet. Two sewing mannequins stood off to the side, one was dressed in an exquisite gown of white lace, silk and satin, and on the other a smaller version of the same. Most young brides of this time and this town, chose gowns of a practical nature, in colors suitable for wear to most any occasion for years after the wedding was over, it was only the well to do families who could afford a white lace gown in the style of Queen Victoria. By the nature of her own skill with needle and thread, Mrs. McGoo could afford to gown Cynthia as stylishly as any blue-blood bride.

"Oh try it on, please." Mrs. Bodkin implored.

"Should I?" Cynthia questioned looking at her own mother for guidance.

"If you'd like dear … I'm sure we'd all love to see you in it … I know I would."

So with a great deal of effort and fussing with buttons and stays and all the other paraphernalia which went into Victorian dressing, Cynthia donned the gown. Frankly, Matilda had at no time in her life ever seen anything so lovely. Even Miss Kitty in all her finery had never shown up in such a dress.

Mrs. Bodkin's hands flew to her cheeks and her mouth formed an 'O'. "Mrs. McGoo, you are an artist - a true artist!" she cooed.

Mrs. McGoo's rosy cheeks deepened in flush, "Thank you, it did turn out quite nicely if I do say so myself."

"I wanna put my dress on too." Angel Louise whined.

"Oh, I don't think so." Mrs. Bodkin said.

"But I wanna …"

Mrs. McGoo intervened, "Please let her Mrs. Bodkin, then we'll know if the dress needs to be altered. My goodness, Angel Louise looks like she has grown since I first fit her."

So with a good deal of whining and complaining on the child's part, she was assisted out of one dress and into the other. "It's scratchy." Was the first thing she said when the gown was slipped over her head. The dress was pulled in place, and it became obvious to all that either Mrs. McGoo had been less than exact in her measurements or Angel Louise had undergone a dramatic growth spurt for the dress was too short in length and inches from closing in the back.

"Oh my." Mrs. Bodkin exclaimed.

"Oh my, oh my." Cynthia cried.

"Oh my Good Lord!" Mrs. McGoo beseeched. "I'm afraid it will take more than altering to remedy this situation."

"You're going to have to sew another dress Mother, and the wedding is only a week away."

Mrs. McGoo was nearly in tears, "I don't have enough lace, even if I take it from this dress, there won't be enough."

Angel Louise, at this news, and fearing she wouldn't be in the wedding, threw a fit and began screaming and tearing away at the pretty garment.

Mrs. McGoo closed her eyes and clapped her hands together in thought, "I do have plenty of the fabric we used for the attendants gowns." Her eyes popped open, "Angel Louise how would you like to wear a dress like the grown up ladies?"

This question quieted the little girl as she pondered her answer. "Would my skirt go all the way to the floor? Can I wear my hair up and with flowers in it?"

"Yes," Cynthia responded, "just like the grown up ladies." She hastily moved forward to rescue the flower girl dress from any further destruction by Angel. "Hold up your arms so I can slip it off, dear."

"Good girl", Mrs. McGoo said as she took Cynthia's place with tape measure and pins.

Mrs. Bodkin took the flower girl dress from Cynthia and studied the craftsmanship. "What a shame. If only we knew of another little girl who could wear this."

"Well we do!" Mrs. McGoo exclaimed. "Mattie, how would you like to be in the wedding?"

"Me?"

"Yes … you."

"She can't wear my dress! It's mine, if I can't wear it, no one is going to wear it."

"Now Angel Louise, you're getting a brand new dress, even better than that old white one."

Angel Louise wasn't to be quieted, "But you don't want Matilda in the wedding, everyone will talk and make fun of her … remember what you said about her, mother? She is a product of sin."

"Angel Louise!'

"Well you did say that."

Kind Cynthia McGoo gave a gentle smile as she came to Matilda and knelt to one knee, "Matilda, would you like to try the dress on, would you like to be in my wedding?"

Matilda jutted her chin forward, "Will everyone make fun of me?"

"Oh no honey, they will say you are as pretty as a picture."

Matilda gave a narrow eyed look at Angel Louise and she could see the older girl was fuming and on the verge of another all out tantrum. The imp in Kitty Russell's daughter won out. It might be worth it, she considered, just to get Angel's goat.

To Cynthia she replied, "Okay, I'll try on the dress and if it fits, I will be in the wedding. But, just so you know … I'm not getting married."

All the ladies giggled, "No Matilda, you don't have to get married, you just walk down the aisle in church and look pretty and toss rose petals from a darling little satin ribbon basket."

"I could do that … how far do I have to throw them?"

Again the ladies giggled, "You just daintily toss them on the floor so Cynthia can walk over them."

Matilda's dress was pulled off and then the flower girl dress was slipped on. Angel Louise was right, the netting was itchy, but the dress couldn't have fit better if it had been made for her.

And with that, Matilda found herself as a flower girl in Angel Louise's brother's wedding.

GS GS GS GS

Dinsdale Hinkle had been in love with Mrs. McGoo for years. His feelings had surfaced from his first meeting with his partner's wife. He had adored from afar always keeping check his emotions, and doing such a superb job of it that no one suspected he was anything but Mr. McGoo's business associate. Even after Dan McGoo died and a sufficient time of mourning had passed and he could have made his romantic move he found that he was still a slave to the social laws which had kept him at bay for so many years. Moreover, he was sensitive to her loss, for her husband had not only been his partner but his friend as well. It was only in recent time that he had decided to declare his affections, and wouldn't you know it, Matt Dillon had made his move first. How could he, Dinsdale Hinkle compete with a heroic figure like Matt Dillon, and furthermore, Dillon had the one thing that would make him positively irresistible to a woman such as Mrs. McGoo - he had a young daughter in need of mothering.

The scowl on Hinkle's face deepened as he smoked his cigar and listened to the other men discuss the topic of the day - the upcoming heavy weight champion ship fight between boxers Paddy Ryan and John L Sullivan in New York City. The local paper had been full of the news. "What do you think of the matter?" Bodkin asked Mr. Hinkle.

Dinsdale had paid the conversation around him no mind, dwelling instead on the state of his loveless life. He gruffly cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat a bit. "I have no opinion on the matter." he replied. "I need some fresh air, if you will excuse me gentlemen." He stood and abruptly left the room.

"What got in to him?" Bodkin asked.

"Perhaps he takes offense to the sport of pugilism father." Douglas offered and Felix concurred.

Outside, Dinsdale paced the porch and then sat down on the swing. He had imagined sitting thusly with Myrtle to his side sipping tea and nibbling away at one of her tasty sweets. He sighed, he did have a weakness for her sweets. He had believed when he'd been asked to give the bride away at the ceremony that Myrtle was at last seeing him in a different light. Reminded of this thought he felt somewhat better. She had asked him to participate in the wedding and there wasn't much more important than walking the bride down the aisle. A smile lifted his somber lips. Yes, he was giving the bride away, just as her father would have. Let Dillon top that, he thought.

He gathered his errant emotions, stood, tugged his waistcoat in place and returned to the house.

As Dinsdale Hinkle stood in the entry alcove he heard Myrtle's voice coming from the front parlor. "I'm sure Mr. Hinkle wouldn't mind, in fact he'd probably be relieved and since Mattie is going to be the flower girl, it makes perfect sense that you, Marshal Dillon, give the bride away!"