“I understand that image and decorum in dress is very important to you ladies. You want your daughters to remain in good standing in the community and not be shunned for improper behavior or manner of dress.” Heads bobbed in agreement. “I know it was hard for some of you to allow your girls to attend my classes, afraid they’d become boyish in behavior. I hope your fears have been put to rest in that department.” A few yeses and nods reassured Birdie and she continued. “As you know, the heart is a muscle that pumps blood to the lungs to obtain oxygen and then that blood travels to all parts of the body giving cells fuel. For the heart to operate properly during exercise, the lungs need to be able to fully expand and supply oxygen to cells.”
She placed her hands on her abdomen and drew in as deep a breath as she could, and exhaled. “As you see, wearing this corset, I can’t fully fill my lungs. If I tried to exercise in this I’d become fatigued quickly, maybe even feel faint. I want your daughters to be strong. To become so, they need exercise. Brisk walking exercises the heart and the lungs as well as toning the legs, abdomen.” She patted her butt, or tried to through the many layers of petticoats and skirt. “And other parts of the anatomy.” Twitters and laughter rang through the room.
“I’m asking that you allow your daughters to take their brisk walks without wearing a corset. If they need support, bust supporters will help, or I know some of you ladies can create something that would work. And girls, perhaps to appease your mothers you could wear a shirt of some kind, like a smock, that covers your torso.”
Julie raised her hand. “But it’s so hot out. That’s just one more layer to wear.”
“Yes, but it will be more comfortable than the corset. And, if you get up early, it will be much cooler.”
Mrs. White stood. Birdie had seen her drop Dolly off for class. “I want to know where they can walk safely. It’s unseemly for them to walk briskly down the public streets.”
“An excellent point, ma’am. I think we need a committee, one that can find a place where the girls can walk without being stared at and are safe. Who would like to chair such a group?”
“I will.” Mrs. White raised her hand.
“Excellent. Choose a couple of ladies who’d like to help you.” Another thought entered Birdie’s mind. “I just want to mention that bicycling is also excellent exercise and is becoming more popular with both men and ladies.”
A groan echoed through the room. Birdie bit her cheek to keep from grinning. From their comments, the mamas didn’t want to see their daughters on the contraptions.
“I must add, ladies, the bicycling outfits would be perfect for walking.” The volume of chatter rose. She held up a hand and the talk gradually ceased. “One last thing before we adjourn. I’ve explained my reasons behind the change in garments, but these young ladies are your daughters, and you must make the final decision as to what changes you’re willing to adopt.”
She narrowed her eyes and glanced down at the younger set. “And girls, I ask that you respect your mother’s decision.”
* * *
Tad grinned as Birdie charged from the Wallace home like her tail was on fire. She hopped into the buggy before he could help her up. Mother and Bethany exited at a slower rate, chatting with friends as they walked toward him. “Tough morning?”
“It wasn’t bad, but I’m not accustomed to chit-chat, especially in this blasted corset.”
“But…but it makes your figure so womanly.” Good grief, what was he doing talking about her figure, especially to her. Mother would have his hide.
She shot him an irritated glance. “You wouldn’t think so if you had to be rigged up in this torture device.”
He couldn’t agree more and had never understood why women felt the need to cinch themselves in so. When he touched a woman’s waist, he’d much rather feel soft curves than stiff whalebone. “You’re right, of course. Fortunately for us men, the fashions aren’t terribly uncomfortable.”
His mother stopped in front of the buggy, her expression one of surprise as she looked over their new transportation. “Where did you get this?”
“I traded our buggy for the surrey, Mother. We could use the extra room and we’ll all be protected from the sun.”
“Yes, I can see that.” She looked up noting the canopy. “Wise choice, son. I’m glad you selected a plain black one. I don’t think I’d want to be seen around town in one with that awful fringe hanging from the top.”
“It’s called an undercut. We can fold the top back on cool days.” He gripped her elbow. “Let’s get you in and see how it rides. The suspension is nice and smooth.”
A man walked out the front door and called, “Tad, hold up a minute.”
Jim Wallace wasn’t a large man, but Tad knew his build was athletic. He prided himself on staying fit even though his job kept him in the office most of the day. Today his suit was impeccable as usual and expensive. The man did like to dress in the latest styles. His dark auburn hair, combed to perfection, was beginning to gray. “Hello, Jim. I’m surprised to see you home at this hour.”
“I couldn’t resist getting home to meet Miss Braxton. I’ve heard so much about her from Julie the last few weeks. Jim tipped his hat to Bethany and took Olivia’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Olivia. I see that Bethany is growing into a beautiful young lady. She looks more like her mother every day.” Bethany blushed and ducked her head. Jim knew how to charm the ladies.
“Hold the flattery, Jim.” His mother tapped his arm. “I’ve known you enough years to be immune to charm.”
“Ah, madam, you wound me.”
Mother snorted.
“I’d be happy to introduce you, Jim.” Jim released Mother’s hand and turned to Birdie, a beaming smile stretching his face. “Jim, this is our guest and distant relative, Miss Birdie Braxton.”
Jim nodded and tipped his hat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, young woman. I think you’re doing a fine thing by teaching our young ladies how to defend themselves.” He wagged a finger. “Just don’t put too many ideas in their heads—don’t want them starting a baseball team or anything like that.” He guffawed and Birdie’s face reddened. Tad hid his chuckle. Jim better watch out or he’d end up with a bloody nose.
Birdie raised her chin. “I assure you, Mr. Wallace, that hadn’t entered my mind.” She tapped her chin and smiled. “But you know, your idea has merit.”
“Ah now, you’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“Of course, Mr. Wallace. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“We better be going, Jim.” Tad shook the man’s hand.
He tipped his hat at the ladies, turned, and walked up to the porch.
Tad helped his mother into the back seat and Bethany in beside her. “Birdie, you left in such a hurry some of the ladies didn’t get to say goodbye.” Mother leaned forward patted Birdie on the shoulder. “You were wonderful dear. I think you won them all over.”
“Yes, Birdie,” Bethany piped up as she sank into the back seat. “I think Mother is going to let me take a class.”
“Not now, Bethany. We’ll discuss it later.”
Tad flicked the reins and the horse eased out into the street and then into a gentle trot.
“I apologize, Olivia, for rushing out.” Birdie’s shoulders sagged and he resisted the urge to embrace her. “I’m not comfortable in these unusual clothes and want to get home and change.”
“But you look lovely, doesn’t she Tad.”
“Yes, indeed, Mother. The rose is a very becoming color on her.” Birdie shot him a glare and he swallowed his chuckle. He did enjoy teasing this woman. “But, I do understand she’s not used to the fashions of this time. Just imagine if you went forward to her time.”
“Oh, land o’ Goshen! From her descriptions, I’d probably die of embarrassment.”
Birdie tossed her head back and laughed. Her delight brought a smile to his face. “Yes, Olivia, I can see you attending a tea in a turquoise sleeveless dress with a bolero jacket trimmed in white.” She’d turned in the seat giving him a clear view of her face. Relaxed and animated, she continued. “And you, Bethany, you’d be wearing a sundress with a skirt above your knees. Your shoulders would be bare to show off your beautiful tan.”
Bethany giggled, but Mother gasped. “Say it isn’t so!”
“It’s true. And Bethany would be wearing strappy sandals. If you were older they’d have four inch heels.”
“Thank God we’re not living in your time,” piped Olivia.
He turned to see his mother vigorously fanning herself. “I think it’d be fun, Mother.” Tad had no doubt his sister wouldn’t have much problem adapting. He’d seen her in those blasted dungarees more than once.
Birdie’s radiance dimmed. “Perhaps for a few days, Bethany. And then you’d begin to miss your former way of life and all you hold dear.”
She really believes she’s from the future. How could it be possible? Yes, strange things did happen in the world, phenomena that were difficult to explain. But time travel? No, he couldn’t see it. “I’m sorry, Birdie. I know you must miss your home, your family, and friends.”
She nodded. “Yes, especially when no one believes me.”
“We need proof, Birdie.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking lately, trying to remember historical events that will take place this year. The only thing that comes to mind is the Massacre at Wounded Knee in late December.”
Chapter Thirteen
Tad’s gaze pierced hers. He didn’t believe her but that was okay. He would when it happened. “Who was slaughtered? Settlers?”
“No. We, our soldiers, butchered approximately 300 Lakota Sioux—women, men, and children.”
Olivia gasped. “But why?”
“The government continued to take their land and the Lakota were forced on to reservations. Bison herds diminished and the people were starving. The U.S. Government failed to keep its promise to provide food, clothing, and housing. Plus, they’d promised to protect reservation lands from further infiltration by settlers and they didn’t. Unrest grew.”
Tad bristled. “I think you have the story wrong. Our government would not sign a treaty then fail to follow through.”
“Are you kidding? They’ve done it before now. Maybe you haven’t heard of those times, but I have. We stole this land from the Native Americans.”
He snorted. “We did not. They’re still here.”
“Yeah, on reservations, starving to death. Some are being transported to other states—away from their homelands. How would you feel if someone came in and tried to take your home and your land?”
“I’d fight to the death.”
“Exactly.” Olivia and Bethany hadn’t interrupted. A sniff came from the back seat. Birdie hadn’t meant to make anyone cry. She turned back to Olivia. “I’m sorry if I upset you, but it’s the truth.”
“Surely the Indians provoked the soldiers in some way.” It was hard for Tad to accept his people had been less than honorable. As a child in history class, she’d not wanted to believe it either, but it was true. She may not have all the facts correct but the outcome was the same.
She sighed. “Troops surrounded the compound. Some went in to disarm the Lakota. One blind man refused to give up his rifle. In the struggle, a shot was fired. The army opened fire, the Lakota fired back, and the rest is, well, to me, history.. The Calvary regiment was supported by four Hotchkiss guns and twenty-five of their own men were believed to have died from friendly fire.”
“Dear, God, that is terrible,” said Olivia. “I pray you’re wrong.”
Tad sat rigid beside her, his face a mask of anger. “You side with the Indians?”
“I side with what is right.”
* * *
Birdie breathed in the fresh November air. She tied Molly to a hitching post within easy reach of the water trough and loosened the girth of the saddle.
Mattie met her at the door of the warehouse. “The new group will be here shortly.”
“Sorry I’m late. Had to wait for livestock to cross the bridge.”
“Pshaw! We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Actually, Mattie, I think you could teach this class without me.”
She flushed scarlet. “No, I don’t think so. I’d forget something.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Think about it. We could possibly have twice as many students.”
The class went without a hitch. A few of the students were lazy and would probably drop out after the second class meeting.
In December, the weather turned cold and she and Mattie canceled classes until after the New Year. 1891 was fast approaching and Birdie was no closer to getting her home built. The fact lay heavy on her heart. Her mood matched the bleakness of the winter landscape.
The Lockharts believed in celebrating Christmas to the hilt. On Christmas Eve, Tad and two of the hands erected a huge tree in a corner of the parlor. Olivia sent Tad to the attic for boxes of ornaments—blown glass all the rage and expensive in the future—and small candle holders that clipped to the tree. They sat around the fireplace to stay warm, and while Tad popped corn, the women strung it for a garland.
“Tad, you’re eating more corn than you’re putting in the bowl for stringing.”
He grinned up at his mother. “But, it’s good. I’ll just pop more.”
“We’ll be here all night and I’d like to get a little sleep before all the festivities tomorrow,” Olivia quipped.
Birdie had to admit it was lovely with the small candles and nothing but coal oil lamps to light the room.
Tad glanced at the tree. “You know, in a few years we’ll have a string of electric lights for the tree. Won’t that be something?”
Bethany squealed. “Yes, but we’ll need two strings because the more lights the better.”
“I hate to disappoint you guys, but in some rural areas of Waco, electricity wasn’t available until the 1940s and 50s.” Birdie shrugged. “Of course, some areas got it much earlier, but I wouldn’t count on it for at least ten to twenty years at least.”
“Really?” Tad’s brow furrowed. “That seems like an awfully long time.”
As is often common in Texas, Christmas Day was warm, in the high 70s. Maybelle and Olivia had spent days preparing pies, cakes, and candy for the festivities. It was their custom to invite all the ranch hands and their families for Christmas dinner. Since the weather was nice, tables were set up outside. Birdie couldn’t remember having a more memorable day, yet her heart ached for Aunt Patty, and she prayed the older woman was managing somehow. During the singing of carols, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears that ran down her face.