Authors: Lorna Seilstad
Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC027050, #Sisters—Fiction
With her suffrage sash draped across her cycling outfit, Sam mounted the steps to the meetinghouse. Charlotte and Hannah
walked beside her. It was too bad Tessa had to miss today’s meeting. She’d have liked her youngest niece to be there.
Once inside, they paused to let their eyes adjust, then hurried to join the others. Sam led them toward her dear friend Clara Ueland. The Minnesota Women’s Suffrage Association was lucky to have a vivacious, up-and-coming leader like Clara, and Sam had vowed to encourage the woman any way that she could.
After a minute of general greetings, it was time to get to work. Sam turned to Clara. “Do you have any ideas of what our next step should be?”
Clara pulled out a clipping from her pocket. “Have you seen this?” She passed it to Sam, then tucked an errant strand of white-blonde hair behind her ear. “Last year, a suffragette army marched from New York City to Albany, led by Rosalie Jones. They spoke to people along the way from a yellow wagon. What do you think? Should we try something similar?”
Sam skimmed the clipping and passed it to Charlotte. “The article says they had great success in reaching the women of New York.”
Clara’s eyes lit up. “I know. I find that so many people think suffrage is a terrible thing when it’s not. Perhaps if they could see all of the women already supporting it, we could bring suffrage home to those who really don’t understand why it’s so important.”
“So back to what you’re thinking.” Hannah returned the clipping to Clara. “What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking that we need a huge march from Minneapolis to Saint Paul. You know, thousands of women. That would get everyone’s attention. What do you think?”
Sam nodded. “Excellent idea, but it will take time for you to organize.”
“Me?”
“Who else? It’s your idea.” Sam smiled at the young woman, a few years older than her nieces. Did Clara realize that her new
ideas were exactly what the Minnesota Women’s Suffrage Association needed? “A march like that would make lawmakers see our commitment to the cause too. Not to mention it would show them we’re capable of organizing an army, as you said, and we intend to continue this fight as long as necessary.”
“I don’t think I could get it organized this summer.”
Sam shrugged. “Then why not next summer? This has been a long fight, and while I’d love to see women receive the right to vote tomorrow, I fear we still have a ways to go.”
The president hammered her gavel against the podium. “Ladies, will you please take a seat?”
Sam, Clara, Hannah, and Charlotte sat down in nearby chairs, and the chatter in the room died down.
“Ladies, it gives me great pleasure today to introduce our speaker, Samantha Phillips.” The president’s gaze swept over the audience until she found where Sam was seated. “Mrs. Phillips has been a tireless leader in our suffrage fight. For twenty-five years, she has been instrumental in helping the cause in Minnesota. So let’s give a warm welcome to our suffrage sister, Samantha Phillips.”
Sam came to the podium and splayed the pages of her speech across the surface. She’d worked on the speech most of the week, but now that she was here, she realized it wasn’t what these ladies needed to hear. They already knew suffrage was inevitable for any democratic society. They knew that their country was founded on the principle of “government by the people, for the people,” and that logically women were people. They knew women across the country had been granted the right to vote in many states, but what they didn’t know was why they needed to stay the course.
Squaring her shoulders, Sam looked at her nieces. This fight was for them. It was for their future. As long as women didn’t have the right to vote, they had no voice. They could be overlooked or, worse, treated as a man’s doll.
“Ladies,” she began, “many have grown indifferent to the cause
of suffrage. The novelty of the topic has worn off, and many already believe they’ve taken their position either for or against it, but I’m here to tell you that your voice is needed in this world—now more than ever.”
The audience applauded, and Sam went on to explain how there was great power in educating the public that women’s suffrage was a fundamental right of a republic. She conceded that at times she too had wanted to give up, but when she was sorely tempted to do so, her dear husband had told her the Lord said, “It is not good for man to be alone.”
“Ladies, that’s why we are here tonight. Man should not stand alone in governing this great country. When our progress grows slow, we mustn’t tire. Women are needed everywhere human problems need to be solved—in homes, in schools, in businesses, and in government.” She looked at Hannah and Charlotte. “And who knows, perhaps someday we’ll be casting our vote for one of you.”
Apparently buoyed by Sam’s speech, Clara stood and presented her idea for a march next summer, and it was enthusiastically received.
Sam closed her eyes and said a prayer of thanks. Women’s suffrage would come sooner or later as long as people like Clara Ueland, Hannah, Charlotte, and Tessa were fighting for it.
Now, if she could get a certain stubborn senator to see things her way. If she didn’t, there could never be anything more than friendship between them.
18
Three dresses and four hats later, Tessa descended the staircase of her aunt’s home, where Reese waited. In the end, she’d chosen a buttercup-colored dress. It wasn’t too fussy, but its narrow skirt, broached satin belt, and lacy bodice accentuated her feminine side. She did not want Reese to think of her as a boy today—or even as a friend. She wanted him to see her as a lady offering him her heart.
She took a deep breath. Over the years, Aunt Sam had often cautioned her to be careful and to guard her heart. Reese was kind. It was his nature, and even though it seemed like he wanted more, he might not.
Friends. They were friends.
Dressed in a fine pinstriped outing suit, Reese looked up at her as she reached the last steps and smiled. He gripped the straw boater beneath his arm like a lifeline.
“Has Aunt Sam been pressing you with questions?” She hurried down the last two steps. “I’m sorry I’m running a bit late.”
“The wait was worth it.” He met her gaze and swallowed. “You look . . . beautiful.”
Chills enveloped her. Surely he meant that. This wasn’t her imagination. He was here for her.
Aunt Sam cleared her throat from the doorway, where Henry
held the door for her. “You two had better go if you intend to get to church on time.”
They both chuckled and hurried out the front door. Less than a half hour later, they arrived at the church building and soon were seated side by side, singing “Tell Me the Story of Jesus.”
She did not miss the covert glances sent in their direction from a number of young ladies in the congregation. Apparently Reese, the most handsome bachelor in the building, had caught the attention of more than one of them.
“You okay?” His breath fanned her cheek.
She smiled up at him from beneath the wide brim of her hat and nodded. “Perfect.”
After the congregation celebrated communion together, the minister stepped to the pulpit. If Tessa were quizzed on what the man said later, she’d probably fail, but she heard bits and pieces about having faith the size of a mustard seed.
She’d seen mustard seeds, and like many other seeds, they were tiny. One could fit on the tip of her finger. She also knew mustard germinated rapidly, and the black mustard plant grown in Bible lands grew into a large, shrub-sized plant.
But Jesus hadn’t said they needed faith the size of a four-foot shrub. He’d said if they had faith the size of that tiny seed, they could move mountains. She had a few mountains she’d like moved—like the stubborn one in Mr. Nussbaumer’s heart keeping her from working at Como.
The minister’s voice grew soft. “The apostles asked for more faith, but Jesus said a little faith was sufficient to do great things. A small amount of genuine faith is enough to produce great hope.” He stepped in front of the pulpit. “Brothers and sisters, the burden is not on Christians to muster faith, but to have enough faith to focus on the One who has the power to perform whatever needs to be done.”
As soon as the services concluded, several church members came up to greet Reese and her. Reese introduced her as his friend, and
she politely met each of them. The older ladies gushed over Reese’s attributes—“He’s such a nice young man.” “He works so hard.” “You can always depend on Reese if you need something.” Then they started to question her, asking how she and Reese knew each other or where they met.
“I feel like a circus novelty,” Tessa whispered to Reese when they were finally alone.
“I thought you liked being on stage.” Reese grinned and took her hand. “But let’s get out of here.”
Outside, a matronly woman flagged them down. “Reese!”
He stopped. “Do you need something, Mrs. Baxter?”
“No, no. I wanted to make sure you were bringing your lovely guest home for Sunday dinner today. It will be such a treat to have another lady around.”
He glanced at Tessa. She mouthed, “Home?”
“Mrs. Baxter, this is my friend Tessa Gregory. Tessa, this is Mrs. Baxter—she owns the boardinghouse where I live. She’s a wonderful cook, and I usually have Sunday dinner with her and the renters, but—”
“That sounds delightful.” Tessa smiled at Reese, then the elderly woman. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Mrs. Baxter clapped her hands together. “Perfect. I’ll meet you at home.”
She turned to leave, but Tessa elbowed Reese and nodded her head in Mrs. Baxter’s direction. “We can take her home, right?”
Reese rolled his eyes. “Mrs. Baxter, wait. You can ride home with the two of us.” He then turned to Tessa and took her elbow. “This is not what I had planned.”
“So we improvise. Life is full of surprises.”
Tessa took the backseat of the Model T so that Mrs. Baxter could ride up front with Reese. It gave her an excellent vantage point to watch their interaction. Clearly the older woman had come to think of Reese as a son, and he treated her with dignity and respect.
Reese opened the front door, and a wrinkled bloodhound barreled toward him. “Easy, Lafayette.” He gave the dog a rubdown and turned to Tessa. “This fine fellow is Lafayette. He belongs to Mrs. Baxter, but we sort of both claim him now.”
“Can I pet him?”
“Sure.”
Tessa squatted in front of the dog and held out her hand. She missed having pets. On the farm, she’d had a slew of them growing up. So, like her father had taught her, she waited for the dog to make the first move. Lafayette sniffed her hand and then allowed Tessa to pet him. “I think he likes me.”
“He has good taste.” Reese motioned to the other room. “Shall we wash up? It’s time for dinner.”
Lafayette took his place on the floor by Reese. Man’s best friend probably got more than a few table scraps from his master, but who could blame him? That forlorn-looking face begged to be loved.
Four other housemates joined them at the table. Two were older men in town on business for a few months, and two were brothers, Clem and Albert Henderson. After introductions were made, Mrs. Baxter asked Reese to offer grace.
Mrs. Baxter laid a fine table of roast beef with potatoes, carrots, and cabbage. Her dinner rolls were light and fluffy, and the cherry pie she served for dessert would rival one of Charlotte’s.
Tessa was pelted with questions about where she grew up and where she lived now, but she was careful not to reveal too much to any of these men. Whenever people found out she lived with her Aunt Sam on Summit Avenue, their demeanor changed, so she kept that part to herself.
As soon as dinner was over, the other residents departed, but Reese began to gather the dishes. Although not used to clearing the table nowadays, Tessa joined him and brought the leftover plate of roast beef and the bowl of potatoes to the kitchen.
“Reese, you leave those dishes for me to wash.” Mrs. Baxter
hurried in with the rest of the bowls. “You and Tessa go enjoy your afternoon.”
“I think we’ll do exactly that.” Reese took a final swig from his coffee cup. He thanked Mrs. Baxter for the delicious dinner and planted a kiss on the woman’s cheek. Tessa thanked Mrs. Baxter for opening her home to her and making her feel so welcome.