The medium prize would be a length of lace, enough to make a pair of cuffs and a matching collar, which she rolled and tied with a pretty silk flower. For the grand prize, she inspected their stock of sewing baskets and picked a small one lined in bright striped calico. The underside of its lid was padded and tufted to serve as a pincushion. She filled the basket with all kinds of notions: a paper of pins, a packet of needles, several spools of thread, a pair of embroidery scissors, dressmaker’s chalk, a cloth tape measure, a German-silver thimble. Then she held it up admiringly. It was something she herself would like to win.

She showed the prizes to Papa, who gave his approval.

“I’ve had another idea,” she said, and hurried on before he could say anything. “Remember how Mama always used to invite the ladies to the shop for those parties? I think we should do the same here—I mean, the opposite. We should have something for the men.”

“What are men going to want in a dress shop?”

She hadn’t thought that far. “Maybe . . . a gift? For their wives—or someone else in their family?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “The only thing men will want is for their womenfolk not to spend too much money in here.”

“Oh!” She clapped in delight. “Papa, that’s it! We do a separate drawing for the men, and their prize is a discount! How about thirty percent less on—on whatever their wife buys at the opening?”

Papa raised his eyebrows. She could tell that he was surprised, and she detected grudging admiration in his eyes.

“Make up a nice little card as a discount token,” he said. “But twenty percent, not thirty.” He headed for the door. “I’m going to paint up a quick sign to stand on the sidewalk, announcing the raffle. That should bring folks in.”

Now Hanna was even more excited about the opening.

16

WITH THEIR STEADY, dependable roan, Chester, hitched to the wagon, Hanna headed south out of town, traveling the road on which they had come into LaForge weeks earlier. During the trip from California, Papa had taught her to drive the wagon and shoot a rifle. He saw those skills as practical necessities for the long journey; she privately regarded them as two more elements in support of her future independence.

She saw patches of prairie roses by the road, but decided to drive on for a while longer. It was a beautiful afternoon, the air warm but not heavy. No one else was out driving. Chester’s hooves beat a steady rhythm that she found soothing.

It feels nice, being outdoors and on my own.