“Sorry, Aunt Judith. You’re a pillar of patience.”
“It’s running thinner with each passing moment. Now, where is Rhoda and the automobile she promised us? She’s half an hour late!”
“She’ll be here,” Clem said.
The discussion carried on, but Olive barely heard it over the pounding of her heart. Why wasn’t anyone else as worried as she was? How could they stay so optimistic when the risks loomed so large? She felt like an outsider, stranded in her own unease while they moved forward without hesitation. But then, maybe that was the difference—she had more to lose than most. Her thoughts ricocheted between Emil Anderson, Mrs. Drake, and the man with the silver-tipped cane. Was she making a terrible mistake?
Just then, Winnie sank onto the settee beside her. “You’re awfully quiet today.”
Olive tried to smile. “I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About whether or not I should go on the procession,” she whispered. “It’s just…I’m not sure if it’s a good idea…” She trailed off when Winnie’s brows knitted together. She looked down at her hands and waited for Winnie to scold her cowardice.
“I don’t understand. What could go wrong?”
With her? Everything.
“I’m having some trouble with my landlord,” she said in a low rush. “She’s an anti. If she finds out…”
“I see.” Winnie tapped her fingers on her knees. “What if you borrow Della’s motoring hat? It’s enormous—the brim alone will cover half of you. The veil will manage the rest, especially if we tie it over the top of the hat.”
“That could work,” she admitted. It wasn’t so different than her widow’s veil disguise, which had protected her well enough. “Thank you, Winnie.”
“Of course. This, at least, has a solution. Unlike Rhoda’s situation.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
Winnie darted a glance around the room before replying in a much more subdued tone. “Clem has been worried about her ever since their trip to Olympia.”
“But I thought the trip was a success.”
“Clem said Rhoda was out of sorts the whole time. Barely sleeping, impatient with everyone. And then she harangued a Senator on the streets so forcefully that the man called her father to complain. And you know how strained Rhoda’s relationship with her father is. He went to Olympia and dragged her home. Apparently, it was quite the row.”
“That’s terrible.” Olive’s heart hurt for her friend. It was becoming clearer by the day that all was not well in the Carlisle household. “Do you think she’ll show up?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, it might be better if she doesn’t.”
Before Olive could press further, the front door burst open with a bang. Rhoda stood in the entryway, her arms thrown wide in triumph.
"Your chariot awaits!" she declared.
Her voice was loud and bright, but it didn’t distract Olive from noticing the shadowy crescents beneath her eyes, nor the tightness in her smile, as if it took effort to keep it in place. A prickle of unease ran down her spine, and she exchanged a quick glance with Winnie, who only lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug before rising to her feet. Olive did the same, hurrying to Della’s side to make her request.
By the time she had secured the motoring hat, the others crowded the entryway. Imogen, closest to the door, reached for the handle and swung it open. She stepped outside, then let out a gasp.
“Oh, Rhoda, it’s wonderful!”
“What is it? What did she do?” Della called, but Imogen was already dashing down the steps with her characteristic lack of restraint.
“Hurry,” Yuki encouraged. “I want to see!”
The ladies surged forward, breathless laughter escorting them out the door. Olive followed with Clem at a more cautious pace, crossing the portico to the stone steps. When they reached the front yard, Olive came to an abrupt halt.
Two grand automobiles idled at the curb. It wasn’t the glossy shine or the luxurious craftsmanship that halted her, but the bold cloth banners decorating them. Rhoda’s hand-painted slogans were unmistakable. Votes for Women stretched proudly across the hood in purple and gold, while The Seattle Suffrage Society ran the length of the body in striking green.
“Rhoda, my auto has never looked better,” Judith declared, striding toward the first automobile. “Della, Imogen, and Yuki, with me!”
