“Mrs. Pinkham cares about women,” April said. “That’s why she’s so believable.”
“Believable? Well, I didn’t say that.” Beulah set aside a bottle. “I just hope she knows what she’s doing. I am, after all, taking my life into my own hands for you, you know. If Papa finds out I’m handing out Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound to customers, I’ll be lying in your grandpa’s parlor, surrounded by baskets of stinking gladioli.”
Turning around, April sobered. “How is your father feeling? I haven’t seen him in the pharmacy this week.”
“Papa has a frightful cold, and I made him stay home.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll have Datha bake him one of her chocolate cakes. That should have him feeling better in no time.”
“He’d love that,” Beulah agreed.
April’s eyes lit with interest as she edged closer to the counter. “Has anyone said how the compound is working?”
“I haven’t had any complaints, but the women I’ve handed it to don’t know that’s what they’re taking. They think it’s a tonic. So…” her friend leaned closer “…are you going to stop?”
“Selling the compound?”
“Isn’t that what your grandfather told you to do? Stop working for Mrs. Pinkham immediately?”
April frowned, hating the thought. “Yes…that’s what he said.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I guess.”
“April,” Beulah said warningly, “are you going to quit selling it or not?”
“Selling it, yes. Helping Mrs. Pinkham, no. I’m going to see if there isn’t something I can do to promote the compound without blatantly going against Grandpa’s wishes.” She couldn’t give up her cause. Grandpa might not believe in the tonic, but she did, and she had to help some way.
“Oh, brother,” Beulah groaned. “Knowing you, this means trouble.”
“I can’t stop helping her now, not when Lydia is on the brink of success. Dan and Henry are at this very moment in Austin, trying to expand the market.”
“When are they coming home?”
“In a couple of days,” April said with a sigh. “I miss him.”
“Dan?”
She swatted her friend playfully. “You have no reverence at all for love.”
“For love I do. It’s infatuation I have no patience for. And I, simple-minded cretin that I am, can clearly see that what you feel for Henry is nothing more than infatuation, pure and simple.”
“No, it isn’t. I care deeply for him. Besides, isn’t it ‘infatuation’ you have for Dr. Fuller?”
Beulah ignored the question. “You’ve clearly lost your mind. You know what kind of man Henry T. Long is? He’ll steal a woman’s heart, then run off like a rabbit. It escapes me why, all of a sudden, you think that you’re in love with him. You’ve known the knave since childhood, and until six months ago hadn’t given him a serious thought. What happened?”
“I’ve recognized how charming, how utterly caring, he really is.”
“He’ll break your heart, then wonder why you’re angry with him.”
“He’s wonderful, and I think he’s on the verge of asking me to marry him.”
“Deliver us all.” Beulah pulled her apron off. “First you were worried about your grandpa finding out about the Pinkham compound. Now he knows, and his heart withstood the shock. But wait until he hears that you’re actually entertaining the idea of marrying Henry Long—not that I think Henry will ever ask you to marry him, mind you. Henry isn’t husband material. Never has been and never will be.”
“Henry respects women,” April said defensively.
“I know Henry likes women. All women, April, my dense but lovable friend. Open your eyes and be healed!”
“Henry enjoys the fairer sex, yes, but I know he’s falling in love with me. Grandpa will just have to adjust to the fact, and he will, once he gets to know Henry, really know him.”
“April Truitt,” Beulah chided as she picked up her dust cloth. “If you believe that, and Lydia’s compound cures insanity, you, dearest, should drink a full bottle of the stuff.”
Chapter Five
The marketplace was bustling with activity this morning. April and Beulah got there early, filling their shopping baskets as they sorted through fruits and vegetables.
“Better take advantage of the eggplant, April and Porky. It’s the last of my garden,” Mr. Portland said, adding several more of the plump vegetables to the display on the wooden tables outside the market.
“What a shame,” April said, choosing one, sniffing, then holding it for her friend to smell. The aroma of warm sunshine and green vines still clung to the shiny purple skin. “I’ll take three, two of the peppers, four tomatoes and—”
The rumble of a heavy wagon interrupted her. Turning to investigate the racket, April saw an ox-drawn wagon lumbering into town. A hired wagon—coming from Houston, no doubt. The weary, dust-covered animals plodded down the street, heads low as they strained to pull the load. Leading the entourage was a shiny black carriage with fringe around the top, drawn by two beautiful black mares high-stepping prettily.
Beulah, holding a large melon in the palm of her right hand, paused to look at the strange cavalcade. “What is that?”
April studied the fashionably attired young woman sitting beside the carriage driver. A middle-aged woman, so completely overshadowed she almost went unnoticed, sat behind them. The first woman, more beautiful than any April had seen in a magazine, smiled and waved at a passerby, while twirling a black satin-and-lace parasol.
“Mercy,” Beulah breathed. “Whoever it is, I hope she doesn’t stay long.”
“Perhaps she’s a street vendor.” April’s gaze traveled the length of the bizarre entourage. “Or a circus performer.” The wagon creaked beneath the heavy cargo.
Squinting, Beulah shaded her eyes against the sun. “She doesn’t look like any merchandiser I’ve ever seen.”
The sound of a door slamming caught their attention. They glanced across the street to see Gray Fuller hurrying down the outside staircase leading from the living quarters above his office.
“Ooh,” Beulah mused. “Must be someone he knows.” The two friends stood elbow to elbow to watch.
The woman spied the doctor and stood up to wave. “Oh, Gray! Yoo-hoo! Gray, darling!”
“Gray,” the girls mouthed to each other as the parade came to a halt in front of the doctor’s office.
Dr. Fuller paused on the bottom step, scrutinizing the wagons. “What is all this?” Stepping off the sidewalk, he approached the buggy.
April watched as the driver assisted the raven-haired beauty down from the carriage. Snapping her parasol closed, the woman rose on tiptoe and kissed Gray flush on the mouth.
April looked at Beulah again, and they both raised their eyebrows.
“Hello, darling.” Francesca brushed Gray’s lips with her fingertip. “Surprised?”
“Very. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Of course you weren’t, darling. It wouldn’t be a surprise otherwise.”
Walking around the overburdened rigs, he frowned. “Francesca—you should have wired. You shouldn’t