Sweet Annie Part 19

A quiver of unease ran through Annie's heart. Hurt and betrayal that her own mother thought so little of her, had such small regard for her feelings, pressed a bruise into her newly gained confidence.

"I will not place my approval on this abomination," she said.

"Annie is going to marry him," Eldon said calmly.

"Not with my blessing. I will not lift a finger to help you make a fool of yourself," she said to Annie. "And he will never be welcome in this house."

Hurt sliced through Annie's chest.

Eldon stood and faced his wife squarely. "Annie is our daughter!"

Mildred turned her face aside. "Not the daughter I know."

He glanced down at Annie. Heart breaking, she struggled to keep her features composed. Why? Why had it come to this? It wasn't even Luke who was the problem. It wasn't that her mother considered him not good enough for her-it was that she considered Annie not good enough for anyone! It had always been this way.

"Luke doesn't care that I'm not perfect, Mother," Annie said softly. "He doesn't ask me to be anyone I'm not. He accepts me and loves me just the way I am. Why can't you?"

"You are trying to be someone you're not," her mother returned. "You are trying to be the woman you think he wants. But you're not. You're not capable of being that woman. I don't want to see you regret your impetuousness later, but you will." She turned and stormed into the house.

Eldon seated himself slowly, his expression full of sorrow.

"It's not your fault, Daddy," she a.s.sured him softly. "You've done the best you could-always. And I know you care about me-truly about me and what I want."

"I will not let her keep you away from this house," he told her with conviction. "He has to properly court you, and that means calling on you here. And after you're married, we will still have Sunday dinners every other week."

An irrepressible smile spread across her face at the idea of Luke properly courting her, but disappeared at the thought of Sunday dinners. No way could she picture anyone in their right mind handing Luke and Burdell croquet mallets. "We'd better let time work on that."

Her mother's impenetrable mind on the subject didn't give her much hope, either. But there, above the hurt of her mother's lack of acceptance, was the unspeakable joy of knowing once and for all that she and Luke would be together.

No more hiding. No more secrets.

They could be together. The concept was as liberating as being free of her chair.

And now she had real plans to make.

Chapter Eleven.

"Luke is calling this evening." Annie read the note Glenda had handed her in front of her mother and made the announcement.

It was cleaning day, and Annie had dressed in one of the work dresses Glenda had given her in exchange for the dresses Annie had cut down and sewn for her daughters.

Mildred said nothing, going about her dusting as though she preferred to pretend Annie didn't intend to go through with this courtship.

Because of his work on the house, he'd visited only once a week for the past few weeks. Each evening that he'd arrived, Mildred had gone upstairs with a headache while Annie entertained him on the porch. Soon it would be fall, and Annie didn't plan to sit outdoors on brisk evenings.

"Did you have much in your hope chest when you married Tim?" Annie asked the young housekeeper.

"Oh, yes, I had tea towels and ap.r.o.ns my grandmother made, and a cast iron skillet my father bought from a traveling salesman. I do love that skillet."

"Does a man expect his bride to have those things?" This trousseau thing had become a worry on her mind. She understood she was supposed to be bringing something to contribute to the household, and so far it didn't look like she had much to offer.

"You'll have wedding gifts," Glenda reminded her.

"Yes, of course." They had set a date, a date her father had frowned at and her mother had met with stony silence because it wasn't a year or two away. Neither Luke nor Annie wanted to wait any longer, so they'd chosen the last Sat.u.r.day of October.

Her mother rarely spoke to her anymore, as though Annie had done something to deliberately hurt her. It grieved her that the woman could be so cold to her own daughter, that she refused to share in her happiness or simply get past her objections and treat Annie kindly. Annie watched Mildred polishing the bra.s.s candlesticks that sat on the mantel.

"Where did those come from, Mother?" she asked, an attempt to spark some communication.

"Your father brought them from a trip East when you were a baby," she replied.

"He's often brought you gifts, hasn't he?"

Mildred's expression took on a faraway look.

"Was he terribly handsome and charming when you first met him?" She'd never asked her mother anything so bold or personal, and she didn't know what kind of response to expect.

The woman rubbed the base of a candlestick vigorously. "He was the man my father preferred."

Annie's parents had moved here with her widowed grandfather only a few years after their marriage. Mother's father had been a banker, too, and had the vision to move to Colorado and invest in real estate during the early days when land was cheap and lumberjacks were free with their pay.

"What do you mean? Didn't you have a say-so in who you married?"

"Young women did what was best for their futures when I was a girl," she said.

Annie looked at her with growing understanding. "Was there someone else you would have preferred to marry?"

"No." Mildred glanced at Glenda, who was occupied with the sooty task of cleaning the fireplace.

"Something you would have preferred to do?"

"I had some talent," she admitted. "I might have liked to study the arts."

"What kind of talent? Acting?"

"Goodness, no. Painting."

"Really? Why didn't you pursue it?"

"Our future was here, in Colorado. I wasn't one to waste frivolous thoughts on things that couldn't be."

"Or things you were told couldn't be."

Mildred's lips pinched shut and the conversation was over.

That evening, sitting beside Luke on the wicker love seat, a warm breeze blowing across the porch, Annie related what she'd learned that day. "She didn't come right out and say it," Annie told him. "But I got the impression that she would have preferred to wait for marriage."

"Plenty of people marry for reasons of economy and politics," Luke told her. "It's been happening for centuries."

"I wonder if my father even knew. I believe he truly loves her."

Luke took her hand. "You can be sure that your husband will love you."

She leaned her shoulder against his. "And you can be sure I'm marrying you because wild horses couldn't stop me."

He grinned. "Are you sure you want to end this courting stuff? We're getting pretty good at it."

Remembering her mother's words, she asked, "We're supposed to be getting to know each other better. Do you think it's working?"

"Sure. I know you can talk about the wedding for thirty minutes straight without a breath. I didn't know that before."

"And I know you must have promised my father something, because we haven't had a moment alone together since he found out about us. I mean alone, like we were at your place."

"I did promise him something, and I'm a man of my word."

"Does it have anything to do with my virtue?"

"It does."

She pressed against him and he wrapped his arm around her. "How many weeks until the end of October?"

"I don't know." He kissed her gently. "But it's seventy-three days."

She smiled against his lips.

Sometimes those days crept by, especially when a week pa.s.sed without seeing Luke, and other weeks it seemed as if the time had flown by and there was always something that needed to be done. Without her mother's a.s.sistance, Annie relied on Charmaine and Aunt Vera and Glenda to help with the wedding plans.

After all the ruffled dresses she'd taken apart and remade for Gerta and Gwen, her own wedding dress was a simple piece of work: white satin with lace trim, capped sleeves and a pinaforelike lace flounce in a V-shape with the edge of the lace hanging from the side of her waist like a scarf.

Lizzy's mother showed her how to st.i.tch ruching of the same fabric as the gown along the hem, and Lizzy made her a coronet of crystal-beaded flowers and leaves, to which Annie secured the floor-length sheer veil.

"If this is a dream come true, it might as well be the best dream I can come up with," Annie told Charmaine and Lizzy one afternoon as they made the finishing touches to the dress. A sultry breeze barely fluttered the curtains in Annie's room.

"You could earn a living with your sewing," Charmaine told her. "This is the most beautiful gown I've ever seen."

"Remember I have an account in my father's name at the milliner's and the mercantile," Annie said wryly. "He paid for this gown."

"But you saved him a fortune by making it yourself!" Charmaine touched a satin sleeve reverently.

"I promise to help make yours, too," Annie told her. "When that too-good-to-be-true fellow comes along."

"You will? Oh, Annie, you're a dear!"

"Guy helped at the house the last two evenings, Annie," Lizzy said. "He said it's close to being finished."

"Luke tells me of the progress," Annie replied. "It's terribly frustrating not being able to go see it myself."

"You haven't seen it?" Charmaine asked.

She shook her head. "It's out of the question for me to leave with him without being chaperoned, and neither Mother nor Daddy will accompany me."

"I'll go with you!" Charmaine said. "Why haven't you asked?"

Annie shrugged.

"You know I'm not upset that he wanted you instead of me, don't you? No one could be happier for you than I am."

"I know that. You're a treasure. I suppose I didn't want to be any more of a burden than I've already been."

"Fiddlesticks!" Charmaine said in a huff. "I'll go with you. Plan a date."

Annie gave her a heartfelt smile. "I will."

Charmaine turned to Lizzy. "Shall we show her now?"

Eyes sparkling, Lizzy nodded.

"What?" Annie asked.

"We have something for you." Charmaine left the room and returned with a flat carton.

"What is it?"

"You're going to have to open it."

Annie sat on the bed with the box beside her and lifted the lid. Beneath layers of tissue lay a gauzy white silk gown. She lifted it from the box. "Why, it's beautiful!" The garment unfolded as she raised it. "It's a nightgown."

"Yes," Charmaine said, bouncing on the bed beside her. "We ordered it from a store in Chicago. Lizzy's aunt bought one for her for her wedding night."

"Not exactly like this one," Lizzy said.

"Goodness, you can see right through it!" Annie exclaimed, and her face grew warm.

"That's the idea." Charmaine giggled.

Lizzy added, "He will love it."

Annie stared at the gown and touched a hand to her hot cheek. Her pitifully few encounters with Luke had all seemed so natural and she had welcomed them. But now thinking about her wedding and the nights to follow, her nerves fluttered. Those had been spontaneous heated kisses and touches, but a wedding night was planned. Expected. Antic.i.p.ated.

If Luke was going to see her in this nightgown, he would see that her body wasn't perfect. Whatever was wrong with the joint in her right hip gave it a different proportion than the other. She'd never before thought of him actually seeing that. Seeing her! "Oh, my goodness."

Mildred's steps sounded in the hallway. "I've prepared lemonade, girls."