REVEALING FIRE

Opening Scene

Willow Creek, Iowa ~ May 1884

“Oh, for mercy sakes! Stop flittering about like a silly schoolgirl!” Pearl Dunnigan glanced over her shoulder, thankful there was no one to hear her self-admonishment except Maggie, the cat. Perhaps she should have declined when Hubert Behr asked her to dinner. How preposterous for a woman in her September years to experience flutters over a man’s attention.

She propped her hands on her hips and frowned at the two dresses carefully arranged on her bed. Her newest, a dark dark blue with tiny flowers, was simple, just an everyday housedress. No elaborate trim or fancy buttons adorned the bodice, no special tucks or decorative stitching embellished the garment. The other was her Sunday best. Dove gray with purple ruching around the neck and cuffs and exquisite little purple buttons; the dress was elegant. Every time she donned the dress for church, she’d pictured fine Eastern socialites sitting down to tea, holding delicate bone china teacups with gracefully gloved hands. The image always made her snort. She’d be as out of place at a fancy tea party as Queen Victoria at a hog calling contest. But every lady should have something special to make her feel dressed up, even for just one day a week, and Pearl loved feeling like a lady. Cooking and cleaning all day for a house full of boarders provided her an income, but at the end of the day all she felt was exhaustion. When Hubert smiled at her, she felt…revived.

She picked up the gray dress and turned with it in front of her to face the small mirror over her washstand. What would folks think if they saw her on the arm of a gentleman like Hubert in the middle of the week, and in her Sunday best, no less? She held the dress against her and smoothed her hand over the precise gray tucks, each one embroidered with purple silk thread. Glancing back at the dark blue still lying on the bed, she knew her mind was already made up.

A knock drew her attention. “Miss Pearl?”

She recognized the voice of Tessa Maxwell, a dear friend who was like a daughter to her. Hastily returning the gray dress to the wardrobe, she called out, “I’m in here.”

A young woman with honey-brown hair, holding a blond-headed toddler by the hand, poked her in the door of the bedroom. “We stopped by to see Grandma Pearl while we were in town.”

Pearl crossed the room with her arms held out. “Come here, Punkin.”

“G’ma!” The little girl pulled away from her mother and ran to Pearl.

Gathering the child to her, Pearl inhaled the child’s sweet scent. “How is my sweet little Susan today? My goodness, how fast she’s growing.”

Susan stretched her hand up over her head. “I dis big.”