“Now, Dorothy, calm down. It wasn’t like that. In fact, nothing is as you’ve imagined. I simply went to the lodge to visit with Gilbert about a financial matter, and the smell of those pies in that new pie parlor of theirs was too much to take. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Well, I never!” Lottie’s mother picked up her fork and took a bite of her salad, her gaze boring holes through her husband.
“No, I don’t suppose you’ve ever really taken the time to get to know those ladies, now have you, dear?” He stared back in what appeared to be a showdown of wills.
Lottie glanced back and forth between them, intrigued. She was also more than a little interested in her father’s comment about Gilbert. What sort of financial situation were the men discussing? Something to do with the melodrama, perhaps? Hopefully Gilbert hadn’t told Pa about the line of credit Flossie had taken out at the general store.
“Honestly.” Winnie rolled her eyes. “Is this what has happened since I’ve been away? Are the dinner hours always like this now?”
“Yes.” Their mother turned to glare at her. “Ever since those women came to town.”
“I met them, Mama,” Winnie said with a shrug. “They just seem like normal girls to me. Nothing inappropriate or anything like that.”
“They’ve seduced our men. I saw as much this morning in church.”
“Wh–what?” Lottie could hardly believe her ears. “Just because Flossie and Fanny sat near a couple of the fellas, you think they’ve bewitched them in some way?”
“We will not discuss this at the table.” Her mother gave her a stern look.
Lottie wanted to ask, “Then why did you bring it up?” but didn’t.
Her mother took another bite of her beef then gazed across the table at Lottie’s father. “I saw that we still have Jeb Otis’s cow. How long will I have to go on looking at that beast before you ship her to Texas with the others?”
“Not sure.” Lottie’s father cut a large slab of steak then jabbed it with his fork. “Maybe I’ll keep her around and make a pet of her. That’s what Jeb did.”
Lottie actually chuckled aloud. She’d never heard her father speak to her mother in such a forward way before, and it got her tickled. Giddy, even.
Her mother didn’t seem quite as happy. “You’re taking this all so lightly, Harold, but you need to keep your senses about you. Folks in town aren’t taking this lying down. You know we’ve got a lawyer coming to town tomorrow morning to discuss our options.”
“Lawyer?” Lottie’s father looked up from his plate. “Who’s he suing, the cow?”
“No.” She laid her fork down and glared at him. “Not the cow.” She closed her eyes, and Lottie watched as she counted to ten under her breath. Afterward, her eyes opened and she spoke calmly. “I have no choice but to live in a town that’s divided; however, I will not dwell in a house that’s divided. Either we come to some sort of agreement on this—this…issue, or—”
“Or what?” This time Lottie’s father laid down his fork. “I would guard my next words very carefully, Dorothy. You don’t want to say anything rash or speak out of anger.”
This shushed her in a hurry. In fact, she didn’t speak a word until it was time for dessert.
As soon as he finished his food, Lottie’s father reached for the bell and rang it. Becky arrived moments later, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Yes, Mr. Sanders?”
“Becky, please bring that lemon meringue pie from the kitchen. I think I’ll have a large slice.” He rubbed his stomach. “I left just enough room.”
“Yes, sir.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Lottie’s mother huffed and went to the kitchen, returning with several glasses of custard. “
This
is our dessert.”
“Looks wonderful, darlin’. I think I’ll start with that.” Lottie’s father reached for a spoon and started eating the custard. Then, when Becky arrived with the pie—a gorgeous lemon pie with a meringue so high it looked as if it might just float to the skies— he took an extra large slice.
Lottie’s mother muttered something under her breath but refused to take any pie.
“I daresay this is the best lemon meringue pie I’ve ever eaten,” Lottie’s father said between bites. “Might just need a second piece.”
Lottie cut herself a slice and lopped it onto her plate then passed the pie to Winnie, who refused, saying she didn’t need the extra pounds it might cause.
“You don’t know what you’re missing, Winnie,” Lottie said. “This is Hannah’s special recipe. She said it was her grandmother’s.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe just a teensy-tiny bite.” Winnie cut a little sliver and put it on her plate. “Hannah, you said? Now which one is that?”
Lottie started to reply, “The one who’s always clean and tidy” but stopped herself. These days, “Hygiene Hannah” was covered in pie dough and pecan pie filling.
“I’ll tell you which one she is,” Lottie’s mother said. “She’s the one over there drawing men away from their wives and tempting them to do…terrible things.”
“Terrible things like buying pies?” Lottie’s father quirked a brow. “I can’t speak for the other men in town, but that’s what she tempted me to do.”
With a huff, Lottie’s mother rose and threw her napkin on the table. “I’ve had about enough of this.”
“Well, before you go, Dorothy, I had an idea.”
She turned to face him. “And what was that?”
“Hannah told me they’re holding a contest at the pie parlor. They’re asking local folks to submit their pie recipes. One recipe a week will be chosen to be added to the menu.”
“And?”
“And, you make a mighty fine strawberry pie. So, I was thinking…”
“You can wash that thought right out of your head, Harold Sanders. My pie recipe is famous in these parts, and it will not be turned into a joke at a place such as that.”
She tore out of the room, her skirts swishing all the way.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lottie’s father took another piece of the pie then looked at the girls and shrugged. “That strawberry pie would easily make it on the menu. And I can see the name now: Sanders’ Strawberry Pie.” He took another bite, a pleasurable expression settling over him. “Mmm. We’ll have to think about that, now, won’t we?”
Winnie nibbled at her slice of pie then muttered something about how she needed to go to Parker Lodge to visit with her new friend, Cornelia. Lottie suspected her sister wanted to see someone else but didn’t say so. Instead, full of beef and pie, she headed upstairs for a much-needed nap.
* * * * *
G
ILBERT PACED THE DINING HALL
, completely worked up. If what Winnie had just said was true, Althea’s nephew, Thad—the lawyer from Loveland—was due to arrive in the morning.
“Are you telling me he’s going to file some sort of lawsuit against us? How can that be?”
“I don’t know.” Winnie wrung her hankie. “I can only tell you what Mama said, and she was plenty worked up when she said it. The Women’s League is examining their options, whatever that means.” She slipped her hand up to his shoulder. “What’s going on around here, Gil? Things have changed so much since I left.”
“Things have changed, yes, but they were only meant to change for the better. I don’t have any idea what those women at the Women’s League are thinking.”
“I’ll tell you what they’re thinking.” A strong female voice rang out from behind him. “They’re thinking they will take us down. But they’re wrong.”
Gilbert turned to see Flossie standing just a few feet away. He took a step back from Winnie’s touch, embarrassed to be caught in what might be misconstrued as a compromising position. “O–oh?”
“Yes. But we’re not going to let them take us down, Gil. We’re going to save this lodge, and the show will go on as planned. ‘If God be for us—’ ”
“ ‘Who can be against us?’ ” He finished the Scripture for her and then smiled, feeling a boost of confidence.
“Exactly. Now, get on over to Lottie’s place and tell her she’s needed here. We’re going to have a meeting this evening, one to map out a plan of our own. That way, if Mrs. Baker’s fancy lawyer-nephew does show up tomorrow, we’re ready for him. Got it?”
He smiled. “Got it.”
Gilbert turned and took off running for Lottie’s house with Winnie on his heels.
SIXTEEN
T
HE
B
ALLAD OF THE
L
ONGS
P
EAK
L
ADIES
Theatricals are known for their handsome heroes who rush in to save the day and weak, spineless damsels in distress. When was the last time you saw a melodrama with females who banded together to right the injustices they faced? We at Parker Lodge feel the time has come for a different sort of theatrical. Our damsels refuse to let their distresses get them down. Instead, they use them to propel the hero to be the man he was meant to be. And they do it all arm in arm, hand in hand. Estes Park, you just haven’t lived until you’ve seen a band of feisty females in action! —
Your friends at Parker Lodge
L
OTTIE HAD ONLY SLEPT
for an hour when Winnie came bursting into her bedroom, making all sorts of noise. Her sister’s wide eyes clued her in that something was happening.
“You have to get up. There’s going to be a meeting at the lodge, and you’re needed. Gil’s downstairs waiting.”
“Gil, here?” Lottie yawned and stretched.
“Yes, it’s important. You need to come with us.”
Lottie swung her legs over the side of the bed, more confused than ever. “What sort of meeting?”
“I’m not sure,” Winnie said. “But I don’t think you want to miss this one, Lottie. Sounds like it’s gonna be a doozie.”
Lottie got up and dressed at once, not bothering to fuss with her hair. Minutes later, she, Winnie, and Gil entered the dining hall at Parker Lodge to find that Phineas, Jeb, Chauncy, and Augie had beaten them there.
“Must be really important.” Lottie released a breath and tried to still her heart. She took a seat, and Flossie rose to address the room.
She started by clearing her throat then dove right in. “Folks, I guess it’s apparent: the ladies in that Women’s League are a force to be reckoned with.”
“Don’t I know it.” Sharla rolled her eyes. “What’ve they done this time?”
“They’re just up to their usual tricks, but they’re bringing in the big guns. A lawyer is set to arrive tomorrow.”
“A lawyer?” Cherry’s brow wrinkled. “Whatever do they need a lawyer for?”
“We’re not sure,” Gil said. “But we want to be ready, just in case they’re up to shenanigans.”
Cherry fanned herself. “Gracious. The last time I saw a lawyer, he was serving me with papers from my ex-husband.” She giggled. “Good riddance, I say. That louse was a noose around my neck. Happy to be rid of him.”
Lottie was startled by this news. Then again, there were probably all sorts of things she didn’t know yet about the ladies. Surely each of them had a story. Fear wriggled its way up her spine. Hopefully none of them were convicts or anything like that. Goodness, why hadn’t they thought to check into that before bringing them to Estes Park? At once her imagination ran away with her. She envisioned several of the ladies being wanted by the law, and she pictured Althea’s nephew—the high-powered lawyer—proving his case.
“Lottie, are you still with us?” Gil gave her a funny look, and she nodded.
“Y–yes. Sorry. Just thinking.”
“Ah.” Crinkles appeared around his eyes.
“I think it’s time to take action,” Flossie said.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing with the melodrama?” Margaret asked.
“And the pie parlor?” Hannah chimed in.
“And the handbills?” Lottie asked.
“Yes, and Augie’s articles in the
Mountaineer
too. But I truly believe we’ve been brought here from New York, Denver, and Atlantic City to play a larger role than the ones we’ve been given on the stage.”
“A larger role?” Patricia shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“We want to be a help to the Parker family, but the Women’s League has been a hindrance. They’ve reared their heads, and I feel we must respond, though perhaps not as you might think. There are a million ways for a woman to get what she wants. All across this great country of ours, women are fighting to have their voices heard.”
Fanny raised her hand in the air and let out a rousing, “Preach it, sister!”
“This is the part I don’t understand,” Lottie said. “Mama and Mrs. Baker are strong women. They both believe in women’s rights. That’s why I’m so perplexed by their current behavior.”
Flossie pursed her lips. “Most folks think that only men are territorial, but I’m of the firm conviction that women can be even more so.”
“What do you mean?” Lottie asked.
“We’re encroaching on their territory, so they’re kicking back by trying to make our lives miserable.”
“They’re succeeding too,” Margaret said. “From all appearances, anyway.”
“They will only succeed if we allow it.” Flossie squared her shoulders. “And that’s why we’re not going to allow it. You hear me, folks? We’re not going to let them lick us. They can bring in their important lawyer, but we won’t go down without a fight. We’ll stay here—at Parker Lodge—and put on the best theatrical this town has ever seen. We’ll win the respect of those women and anyone else with any degree of suspicion.” She gave Lottie a knowing look. “Are you in?”
“Do I have any choice?”
Flossie laughed. “Lottie, I’ll make you a promise. Not only will we beat those women at their own game, but we will eventually win them over to our way of thinking.”
“And how, pray tell, will we accomplish that?” Lottie asked.
“Ooh, I know,” Margaret said, brushing loose strands of hair from her shoulders. “We can appeal to their materialistic side.”
“Materialistic side?” Prudy didn’t appear to be convinced.
Flossie crossed her arms. “What do you mean, materialistic side?” she said to Margaret.
“For women, going to the theater is all about who’s wearing what,” Margaret said. “It’s an excuse to shop. When those women catch on to what’s what, they’ll want to outdo each other with their fancy dresses and hats and coats. You’ll see.”
Fanny shrugged. “Maybe. Not sure about that, though. If they show up, they’ll be dressed in nice clothes, sure. But how do we get them here?”