“Hoops,” she answered. “They’re coming back in style, and they’re too wide to go through an ordinary door. Women have to stop and tug at their skirts. It’s a nuisance.”

Mr. Hart had stopped hammering and was listening. “Huh. I’ve seen the ladies do that. Never thought about it before.”

“It would be nice to have the only shop on the street where they could just sail right in,” Hanna said.

Mr. Hart scratched his head under his hat. “Could do a double door,” he said, “and one window instead of two, but a bigger one.”

Hanna nodded. “A big window would be nice for displays,” she said. Of dresses, she added silently.

Papa put his hands on his hips. “So the two of you have got that all decided?” he said.

Hanna held her breath as she glanced at him. Was he angry?

He tossed the plumb line to Mr. Hart as he strode past her. “Guess I better get to the lumberyard. Gonna need more wood for a double door.”

Hanna spent most of Saturday sorting through the shop supplies they had brought with them from Cheyenne. The button box. Spools of thread, some reels of ribbon, hanks of embroidery floss. Papers of needles and pins, assorted fasteners, boxes of dressmaker’s chalk. A few skeins of knitting wool.

One reel of plain red ribbon was almost spent. Hanna pulled off what was left. A little more than her hand’s span, probably around nine inches, but both ends were somewhat frayed and would have to be trimmed. Not enough for a neck ribbon. Barely enough for a decorative bow. She trimmed the ends and rolled up the short length carefully, then set it aside. She’d figure out some way to use it.

That day she also accomplished something she’d been wanting to do for a while. The braid of prairie turnip had been hanging from a nail on the kitchen wall ever since they moved into the rented house. She snipped off half a dozen bulbs and put them to soak in a bowl of water. They’ll be ready to cook on Tuesday.

It was a small excitement, trying a food she had never eaten before. She hoped she would like it, but even if she didn’t, at least it would make that meal interesting.

On Sunday she and Papa went to church services, which were held in the railway depot. They slipped inside just as the service began, and left during the last hymn. It was Hanna’s first time; the previous week, Papa had gone without her. While some of the people seated at the back saw them come in, no one spoke to them. Hanna was discomfited by the stares and the nudges, but she knew it was good that she had been seen attending church. One less thing for people to hold against her.