January 27
Early Wednesday morning, Rosemary pulled on her overcoat, ready for a trek into town. At least there was one heavy coat that fit over her protruding belly, although she'd prefer to have more of a selection to work with. It was becoming inevitable: soon she would absolutely have to add to her maternity wear. In fact, next time she saw Dottie she'd ask her to unlock the dress shop for a brief visit, where she could peruse over the bolts and bolts of fabric sitting unused. Perhaps she'd design a newer fashion coat with the extra fuchsia (or was it magenta?) fabric in the store. Add a few more skirts and tops, and she would be set for the time being. What was so surprising was how quickly and drastically her measurements had changed. Was it really only a week until she hit the halfway mark in this pregnancy? Doc Carson had assured her growing body was right on target, although it did feel quite alarming to be changing at such an expedient rate. That is why she simply must get out this morning. A walk would do her good. After hours and hours of sitting at the sewing machine this past week, stretching her legs would feel downright delicious. She grabbed her handbag and started her walk into town. Oh sure, she was in need of a few items, but the errands were merely an excuse to get out in the fresh, brisk mountain air and move her body.
Her breath came out as warm tufts in the frosty air, but soon, with the full rising of the sun, the air would warm considerably. She rounded the corner and came face to face with a most beautiful view: the frozen lake with the picturesque church behind it and the steep ridges of the Rocky Mountains rising in the background. It simply took her breath away, a much different reaction than when she first entered Hope Valley, well, Coal Valley, as it was called back then. At her arrival, she couldn't have been more appalled by the scenery. She loved the constant hustle bustle of the city, always with its loud noises and tall, abrasive buildings. But now, these few years later, she was beginning to soften and see the benefit of the serene mountain town. To her surprise, at that precise moment, Elizabeth stepped out of the schoolhouse and onto the staircase where she clapped the two chalkboard erasers together.
"Good morning, Elizabeth." She called out as she neared the schoolhouse.
Elizabeth's eyes shot up from her task and she scoped out the schoolyard until her eyes landed on her. "Oh, Rosemary, whatever are you doing up and about so early?"
"Just stretching my legs, and perhaps, running an errand or two." She coughed and waved at the chalkboard dust lingering in the air. "When do the children arrive?"
Elizabeth looked out towards town, her eyes roaming to the first student walking down the path. "There comes the first one now."
"Oh, well in that case, I better leave you to your work. Don't forget—we have your first dress consult Friday, 4 p.m. sharp."
"I wouldn't miss it. And Rosemary, you are doing well?" Her eyes were kind.
Rosemary patted her belly. "Fit as a fiddle."
They shared a smile and bid each other farewell. She proceeded to walk down the path, passing a few of the earliest arriving students as she walked, including a rambunctious Cody and Robert. A sophisticated Emily walked quietly behind them, her eyes lighting up once she saw Rosemary.
"Good morning, Mrs. Coulter." The girl straightened her scarf, obviously hoping Rosemary would notice her fashionable accessory.
"Good morning, Emily. What a wonderful choice to compliment your outfit." She pointed to the plaid scarf around her neck.
The girl simply beamed. Ever since she spent 'Career Day' with Rosemary at Dottie's Dress Shop, the girl had evidently been working on her sense of fashion. She still had quite a way to go, but had been making strides in the weeks of late.
Rosemary rearranged her own scarf. "You know, with the dress shop closed, I have certainly missed seeing you for our afternoon sessions. We have so many lessons to catch up on: haute couture, the appropriate mixture of stripes and patterns—"
The girl's eyes became sad. "Mother says I shouldn't bother you anymore."
"Why ever would she say that? I enjoy our appointments after school. After all, I dare say I can't lead this town into the fashions of the modern twentieth century all on my own." She smiled, but Emily did not return her smile.
"Mother says you will be much too busy with the baby, and… with your guest from out of town."
Rosemary's smile froze. Even Cat Montgomery had heard her news? Goodness how quickly news traveled in Hope Valley. She swallowed and turned back to the girl in front of her, forcing a note of cheerfulness into her voice. "Not to worry, we will make time."
"Thanks, Mrs. Coulter!" Grace sprinted off towards the school in excitement.
What troubling news. How far had the gossip of her impending visitor reached? It had been awhile since she spent significant time in town, but she hadn't imagined Cat Montgomery, of all people, being privy to her news. She felt a knot form in her stomach. Hopefully this would be the only mention of it for the day.
Walking down Main Street, she made her way to her first stop: Abigail's Cafe. Although she had already eaten and couldn't imagine eating a crumb more, she entered the establishment hoping to secure a crock of Abigail's soup. She was growing weary of all the sandwiches they had been eating for supper at the new house, and a crock of Abigail's soup would be a welcome change. Wouldn't it be delightful if while she was there she could run into a few of her comrades? Someone like Dottie or Molly, or even Florence as long as she kept her tongue in line. But, after entering the cafe and scanning the room, she realized the cafe was mostly filled with men eating a quick breakfast before their shift started at the mill. She glanced to the register and, Clara, donned in a cream and yellow apron, called out a greeting.
"Rosemary, what brings you in? Would you like a spot of tea or perhaps one of Abigail's blueberry muffins?" She lifted her hand towards the glass case loaded with freshly baked goods.
Rosemary blinked. Clara? Working at the cafe again?
Clara looked down at her apron. "I started back at the cafe until the dress shop is reopened. A girl has to make a living somehow around here." She shrugged. "Can I interest you in a few muffins to take home? Or, wait— I have just the thing!" Clara went to the pedestal cake plate and pulled off the glass lid, showcasing a lattice topped pie. "Abigail's freshest gooseberry pie! If you put it in the icebox, it will keep until your visitor comes into town."
Rosemary's eyes widened. For Heaven's sake, even Clara knew? Her mouth suddenly dry, she struggled to find her voice. "Oh, no thank you."
"No, I insist. It is our treat. Believe me, Abigail would insist."
Abigail peeked her head in from the kitchen. "What would I insist?"
"Oh." Clara's cheeks colored. "I was just encouraging Rosemary to take a pie home, on the house, for her guest."
"Oh yes, I do insist. It is my treat. It's not often that a guest comes into town for you, Rosemary."
"Well, I've heard stories about those two supposed executives from the Curran Theater in San Francisco …" Clara laughed and looked up, but after meeting Abigail's stern eyes, her voice trailed off. Rosemary shifted uncomfortably. Yes, those were her last two visitors and that had not ended particularly well with her almost being kidnapped by the hooligans. Unfortunately for her, Harriet's visit may not go any smoother.
Abigail cleared her throat.
Clara handed the boxed up pie to her.
"Make sure to bring her on by. We'd love to meet her." Abigail smiled and then headed back into the kitchen.
She reluctantly took the box, for what else could she do? She turned to go and it wasn't until she was out on the boardwalk she remembered the crock of soup she'd hoped to purchase. Ah well, there wasn't a chance she'd go back in there after that awkward situation.
Her legs trembled underneath her as she neared Yost's Mercantile. Perhaps she should just forgo her last errand? She couldn't bear to hear one more mention of her incoming guest. Before she could make up her mind, Ned Yost opened the door, a broom in hand.
"Oh, good morning, Mrs. Coulter. Is there something you are in need of?" He held the door open for her.
Deciding she must be brave enough to at least secure one of the items she came into town for, she nodded and carefully entered the store, quickly looking around see if Katie was there, as she was one of the original perpetrators to spread gossip of her visitor around town. Thankfully, it looked as if she were not in today. She sighed and placed the pie on the counter.
"Now, what can I get you?" Ned placed the broom against the wall for the time being.
"I am in need of a new spool of thread. Navy."
"Oh you are just in luck. I just got a shipment yesterday. It's not put out yet. Let me grab you a spool in the back. Anything else I can get you while I am back there?"
Her eyes scanned the shelves. What else did she need? Well, she was out of her favorite blackberry tea. Perhaps brewing a cup of that this afternoon would help settle her nerves.
"A tin of blackberry tea?"
"Oh, sure, sure. I know it is your favorite." Mr. Yost disappeared into the back room for a minute and emerged later with a spool of navy thread and a canister of blackberry tea. He rang her up at the register and she paid him, thankful for the absence of small talk and specifically the absence of the mention of her upcoming visitor. She grabbed her items and walked out onto the mercantile porch, her boots hitting the cold boards. The bells jangled behind her as the door opened and Mr. Yost ran out behind her.
"Mrs. Coulter." He called and then extended his hand towards her. In it, a canister of blackberry tea.
She looked back at her hands. "Mr. Yost, I already have my tea." She lifted the canister.
"Oh, yes, of course. This one is an extra one. If your guest likes blackberry nearly as much as you do, you will need a new canister in a jiffy. Here— it's on the house."
He extended the can towards her, and feeling quite irked, she grabbed it from his hands and stomped down the boardwalk.
My, if this town weren't as nosy as all get out.