Aundy (Pendleton Petticoats - Book 1) (13 page)

“You ever notice the grates set in the boardwalks in town?” J.B. asked.

“Yes, I commented on them to Nora one day. All she said was to never stand on top of one and they were nothing I wanted to be concerned with.”

Laughing, J.B. shook his head. “That sounds about like Nora. Any number of businesses near those grates has an entry to the tunnels.”

“Oh, my,” Aundy said, digesting this tidbit of information.

“I hope you keep in mind that the tunnels aren’t a fit place for a lady, especially a young lady who’s already been getting more attention than she wants.”

Aundy nodded in agreement. Since the weather had warmed and the roads dried out, a steady stream of callers had arrived at her door, with both propositions and proposals. Young, old, poor, rich, handsome, and filthy - she’d seen just about every type of man come calling in an effort to gain access to Erik’s farm. Garrett had taken to coming around in the evenings, when the men seemed most inclined to call, after their daily work was finished. When he couldn’t make it over, he somehow made sure Dent or one of the hands was conveniently working near the house to keep an eye on things.

Hoping the novelty of her being newly widowed would soon wear off, Aundy was tired of the callers. She never thought she’d live to see the day she was popular with the male population, but then again, they weren’t interested in her. All they could see were acres of farmland ready for the taking. Or so they thought.

The only visitor who arrived not spouting proposals was Ashton Monroe. Since he hadn’t said anything Garrett or Dent deemed inappropriate, they didn’t get worked up when he came to visit, although neither one of them seemed very fond of the man.

Ashton was funny, charming, and almost pretty in features. He told entertaining stories, made Aundy feel smart and witty, and seemed to enjoy being casual friends.

Although Nora disliked him, Aundy couldn’t help but enjoy his company. She hadn’t seen him for a week or so and wondered if he was out of town again. Frequently gone on business, Aundy wasn’t exactly sure what it was Ashton did for a living, other than travel around and check on his investments.

“I better get home,” Aundy said, gathering her things before slipping on her hat and gloves.

“Remember what I said, Aundy,” J.B. cautioned, helping himself to another muffin. “No ladies Underground and especially not on a busy Friday night.”

“I’ll remember,” Aundy said, walking to the parlor where Nora sat cutting fabric.

“Leaving so soon, honey?” Nora asked, setting down her scissors and getting to her feet to give Aundy a hug. Aundy would have thought it comical since she was so tall and Nora so petite, but she wouldn’t trade the motherly hugs for anything.

“Yes, I need to get home. I have some things I should take care of today,” Aundy said, brushing at her skirt. She loved to ride, but her skirts weren’t designed for straddling a horse. She’d been meaning to make some riding skirts, but hadn’t found the time to sew. She might stay up late and make one just to be able to ride more comfortably. With her sewing knowledge, she could make her own pattern, but it would save her time if Nora had one she could borrow. “You don’t happen to have any patterns for riding skirts, do you?”

“I don’t, but Erik’s mother had several. She loved to ride Bell, you know. Didn’t you say Erik never bothered to clean out her clothes? They should be in the closet. Her clothes might be a little short for you, but with a wide hem, they should work just fine.”

“I’ll have to see what I can find” Aundy said, thinking she might have to finally clean out the two empty bedrooms in the house. At least go through Erik’s mother’s clothes. If his mother had dresses more suited to a farm wife than the city clothes she’d been wearing, Aundy would alter them as well. She had already ruined one of her favorite skirts working outside. The fine fabric wasn’t made for farm work.

“Sure you don’t want to stay for lunch?” Nora asked, walking Aundy to the door.

“Not today, but thanks for asking,” Aundy said, kissing Nora on the cheek and hurrying down the steps and around to the barn. Bell greeted her with a happy whinny and they were soon running down the road toward home.

After brushing Bell, Aundy sat at the kitchen table reviewing her notes from J.B. and reading through a few pages of Erik’s animal husbandry book.

With her mind made up of what she wanted to do, she decided after lunch to clean out the two vacant bedrooms. Starting with Mr. and Mrs. Erickson’s room, she opened the door and admired the colorful quilt on the bed. Stripping off all the linens, she knew they probably needed a good washing and put them in a pile by the washing machine on the back porch to take care of later.

Returning to the room, she discovered Erik left everything as his parents had, since the drawers in the dresser were full of personal belongings. Feeling like a trespasser or thief, Aundy looked around the room at the items that once belonged to the Erickson’s. She wanted to shut the drawers, slam the door, and not ever enter the room again.

Instead, her practical nature ruled over her emotions as she went to the storage shed where Dent kept things they might need and found several old fruit crates. Carrying them to the back porch, she wiped them down before taking them into the house to the bedroom.

Going through one drawer at a time, she sorted the items into piles. Some things needed thrown away, the worn clothes would become rags, and the packets of letters she would set aside to decide what to do with later.

Books she placed on the bookshelf in the front room. Photographs went in the box with the letters. A trunk in the closet revealed three heavy sweaters in Nordic patterns, a beautiful white shawl made of the finest wool, extra linens and another colorful quilt, along with many pieces of Rosemaling painted china.

 Admiring the detailed work and warm colors on the china, Aundy decided the dishes should be displayed in the dining room instead of hidden away in the closet. After finding places for the pieces in the china cupboard, she finished digging in the trunk and discovered a few more books printed in Norwegian. She added those to the bookshelf in the front room.

A smaller trunk on a shelf featured a vibrant Rosemaling design of blue with green and gold accents. Aundy loved it and decided she’d like to have it in her room. Opening the lid, she removed what must have been Mrs. Erickson’s wedding gown. Shaking out the folds, Aundy admired the skillful stitching and care that had gone into the garment. Carefully folding it, she set it in the trunk with the sweaters, linens and quilt, keeping out the white shawl to wear.

Carrying the small trunk to her room, she set it on a chest of drawers and admired how well it matched the blue and yellow quilt on her bed.

Returning to the other bedroom, she sorted through Mrs. Erickson’s clothing, finding several calico dresses that would be much better suited to wearing on the farm than Aundy’s current wardrobe. Although somewhat dated and out of style, Aundy didn’t think the chickens or the vegetable garden would care.

Setting the dresses aside, she found three riding skirts in good condition and tried them on. Standing in front of the mirror, she saw the skirts were short, but otherwise fit her very well. Examining the wide hems, she was relieved to know she could lengthen them enough to wear without causing any scandal over a short hemline.

More digging resulted in the discovery of a pair of cowboy boots and two pairs of shoes. Taking off her own shoes, she found Mrs. Erickson’s fit her well, if not somewhat loose. A little padding in the toe would fix the problem.

Trying on the boots, Aundy felt the soft leather and looked at the scuffed toes and worn-down heels. Unlike any boots she’d seen a woman wear, she thought they must have been special made just for Erik’s mother. They definitely looked like men’s western boots, only smaller. Wiggling her toes, she concluded a pair of thicker socks would remedy the problem of the boots fitting.

Getting to her feet and clomping around the room, an idea began to blossom in her head. As the blossom reached full bloom, Aundy upended the box of men’s clothes she’d just carefully packed onto the bed and began searching through the items. Pulling out pants, a shirt, vest and tie, she reached into the closet to grab a coat. Trying on the clothes, she decided to put her plan into action that very night.

Giddy with excitement, she dug around on the closet shelf, finding a broad-brimmed hat. Settling it on her head, she glanced in the dresser mirror. Adjusting the strap beneath her chin to hold the hat in place, she pulled down the brim until it shadowed her eyes. With some soot on her cheeks and jaw to look like a man’s stubbly whiskers, she thought she might get away with her little deception.

Changing back to her clothes, she took the men’s clothes to her room, finished packing up the bedroom, leaving the boxes stacked by the door and went to Erik’s room, looking for some cologne or aftershave.  Finding a bottle of Bay Rum, she took it to the bathroom and left it sitting on a shelf by the mirror.

When Dent stopped by after supper to see if she needed anything, it was difficult for her not to share her plans. Instead, she told him she was fine, but thought she might like to go for a ride before it got dark. Dent said he’d have someone saddle Bell and leave her tied to the fence out front.

“Thanks so much, Dent,” Aundy said, giving him a handful of the butter cookies he seemed to enjoy as he made his way out the door.

Opening the stove door, Aundy gathered a cup of ashes and took them to the bathroom. Washing her hands, she went to her room where her disguise, as she had decided to call it, awaited.

Recalling what J.B. said about the Underground not being a place for a lady, especially not on a Friday night, Aundy also remembered what he said about it being the best place to gather information.

And information is what Aundy wanted. No one took her seriously as a woman, so if she had to pretend to be a man to accomplish what she wanted to do, then so be it.

Wrapping her chest tightly, so it looked as flat as possible, Aundy pulled on a thick, coarse man’s undershirt. Over her own bloomers, she tugged on a pair of pants that belonged to Erik’s father. Erik must have gotten his height from his mother’s side of the family, because his father’s pants were just the right length for Aundy. Once she had the boots on, they might even be a little short.

Putting on a thick pair of socks, she pulled on the boots and tugged the pants down over the tops. Buttoning a cotton work shirt, she stuffed the hem into the waistband of the pants. The blue and white striped shirt reminded her of hundreds just like it she’d sewn at the factory. Fastening on suspenders, she gave them a playful snap, grinning to herself as she settled them in place.

Putting on a dark blue vest, she buttoned it and glanced in the mirror. The transformation was taking shape, but she’d have to do something about her hair. Unpinning it, she combed it back from her forehead and wove it into a tight braid. Catching the end, she began stuffing it back up under itself and pinned it into place. Tying a black cloth over her head, she secured the ends in back and tucked them into the neck of the shirt. She hoped no one would notice it once she had the hat in place.

Going to the bathroom, she looked in the small mirror above the sink and carefully rubbed ashes into the skin along her jaw and chin, turning it a shade of gray.  From a distance, in muted light, it might pass for a day’s growth of beard.

Deciding her lips were far too rosy, Aundy used a little flour to make them look pale and dry, then reminded herself to not lick them.

Stepping back in her room, she put money in her vest pocket and a piece of paper with a pencil stub in her coat pocket. Slipping on the coat, she tugged the hat down on her head and stood in front of the mirror, eyeing herself critically.

With her tall height and build, she might just get away with pretending to be a man. Practicing a swaggering walk a few times, she giggled at herself then took a deep breath. She could do this and she would.

Walking to the front door, she stopped and turned back to unlock the desk drawer where she kept Erik’s revolver. Taking it out of the drawer, she retrieved the holster and gun belt from Erik’s room and fastened it around her hips, like she’d seen men wear them. Feeling like her gait would be lopsided from the extra weight on her hip, she walked a few circles around the front room then remembered she needed a pair of leather gloves. Hurrying into the kitchen, she put on a pair she’d used in the garden, thinking the soiled fingers would look like a man might have used them for hard labor.

Ready to leave, she remembered the Bay Rum in the bathroom and removed the gloves, splashing a little of the scent onto her hands, rubbing it on her neck and wiping her still damp fingers down the front of her shirt and pants. Jamming her fingers in the gloves, she decided she had to go before she came to her senses and changed her mind.

Running out the front door and down the porch steps, she felt quiet free and unhampered without her petticoats and skirts. Mounting Bell with ease, she thought she could quickly become accustomed to wearing pants.

Urging Bell into a fast canter down the lane before someone caught sight of her, she hurried the horse toward town.

Trying to decide which saloon would grant the fastest access to the Underground, she entered one she’d heard the hands talk about when they thought she wasn’t listening.

Tying Bell to a hitching post around the corner, she swaggered down the boardwalk and in the swinging doors of a busy saloon. The stench of booze and cigar smoke made her want to cough while she fought to keep her eyes from watering. Pulling the brim of her hat down slightly and turning up the collar of her coat, she walked up to the bar and leaned one elbow on it, looking around.