Chapter Four
Ana sat across fromWilliam at breakfast on Monday morning. “William,” she began, “I’ve been thinking...I would like to make myself a new dress for church.” She was almost afraid to ask, thinking about the way her father had beaten her mother when she’d asked for money to buy fabric for dresses for her and her sisters.
William looked up from his plate. A slow smile spread across his face, the kind that instantly put Ana’s worries to rest. “That sounds like a splendid idea, Ana,” he said, nodding. His hand reached for the leather pouch by his side and he counted out several coins, laying them before her with care. “This should cover your needs for the household, and a little something extra for your dress.”
“Thank you, William. That’s more than generous.” She tucked the coins into her apron pocket, feeling the weight of them against her thigh.
“Later today, after lunchtime, I shall meet my sisters at the general store.” Her gaze met his. “We wish to choose the fabric together.”
“Of course,” he replied, his voice steady. There was no hesitation, only the clear understanding of family bonds. “I know you’re all close. Enjoy your time with them.”
Ana nodded, a small smile creasing her lips as she imagined the colorful bolts of fabric. She’d never been able to come and go as she pleased, but William seemed to think allowing her to spend time out of the house was a normal thing to do. She wasn’t sure what to do with all the freedom he offered.
William closed the discussion on the household budget with a nod, his hand lingering on the edge of the table as he stood. “I’ll be back for lunch,” he said, glancing toward the kitchen. The scent of fresh bread still hung in the air—a comforting reminder of their morning meal shared. “If you’re pressed for time, Ana, do not fret. A sandwich will suffice.”
Ana watched him don his coat, the lines of concern etched lightly upon his brow easing with her assurance. “You needn’t worry about going hungry,” she replied. “Three meals a day is what I promised, and three meals a day you shall have.”
He paused at the door, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, a silent acknowledgment of her steadfast resolve. But Ana’s thoughts were already drifting to the dress. Never had she been allowed to choose fabric and make a dress for herself. Her father had done all the shopping, and her mother would make the most of whatever he’d brought home for them.
“Today, though,” she continued, “the new dress takes precedence. There’s no mending more pressing than preparing to look decent for Sunday’s sermon.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, Ana let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Alone again, the silence settled around her. She turned back to the window, the glass cool beneath her fingertips, and gazed out at the world awakening beyond.
She had always had her sisters beside her. It was odd to be truly alone, and she wished she could have them with her all the time. She knew it would be good to learn to be alone, but she wasn’t certain she was ready.
Memories of a life once filled with the constant hum of her sisters’ voices tugged at the edges of her mind—three lives intertwined, now unraveled into separate threads. And as she prepared for William’s return, she clung to the thought of that reunion. They’d seen one another briefly the day before, but none of them had been able to truly share her thoughts with the others. She needed to know her sisters were safe. She needed them to know she was safe.
*****
ANA HURRIED THROUGHthe streets of Hope Springs, along the dirt road that meandered like a dried-up riverbed. She held William’s money close—a sum for her own whims and the needs of their household—and with it, a sense of autonomy that both thrilled and unnerved her.
The general store was just ahead, and there, beneath the awning, Isabelle and Rosabelle waited.
“Finally,” Izzy said as Ana approached.
“Thought you’d never come,” Rosie added.
They entered the store together, making a beeline for the table piled high with fabric. There were so many colors and textures begging to be touched and transformed.
“Something modest, yet fetching,” Ana mused aloud, fingers tracing over calico and gingham. She felt that she should get the same fabric as her sisters, as they’d always dressed alike, but they were no longer three parts of one whole. They were each married and must show their individual tastes.
“I like this one,” Izzy said, her hand resting on a pattern of delicate ivy on a field of cream.
“Or this.” Rosie held up an identical design, but where Isabelle’s choice was soft and gentle, hers was a dusky rose, grounded and unassuming.
“William said I could choose.” Ana’s voice held a note of wonder, though no one knew better than her sisters the weight of the word ‘could’.
“Then we shall all have the same,” Rosie declared with a nod that settled the matter. “In different hues, reflecting each of us.”
“Reflections of the same soul,” Izzy whispered, and they cut three lengths from similar bolts—cream for Izzy, rose for Rosie, and a vibrant green for Ana.
Ana smiled. “Now we’ll have the same pattern, but won’t look like we’re trying to look exactly alike.”
With their purchases bundled in their arms, they stepped back outside. For now, they were together again, and soon, they would be able to share secrets. All felt right with the world again.
“I need to stop at the butcher to get meat for supper. Do you mind?” Ana asked her sisters.
When Izzy and Rosie both shook their heads, she hurried into the butcher shop. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, she pointed to a cut of meat. It was practical, enough for William and her both. Tonight, she would cook supper in her new home, a ritual of domesticity that was both foreign and familiar.
