“All right. Nellie you are.” Katie shrugged. If it worked for the smiling English woman, it would work for her too. “What do you have there?”
Katie rubbed her face with the backs of her hands as Nellie slid the door shut with her foot. Her thoughts were muddled and an inkling of fear burned in the back of her mind.
“Clothes. For you.”
“For me?”
Nellie let her load fall onto a plush chair. “If you plan on traveling the world with me, Katie Knepp from Indiana, you’re going to need more than one dress.”
Katie glanced down at her handmade, rumpled dress. She’d been wearing it for a couple of days and nights now. Everything she’d brought on Rumspringa she’d left with Peter.
Peter.
In an instant, her heart sank. Peter was going to ask her to be his wife, she just knew it. All they had to do was get through Rumspringa...
Is that what I’m really running away from? Or am I running away from watching Rebekah marry Joseph? She chewed her lip. Or is it everything?
“Well, Katie Knepp?”
“Hmm?”
Nellie tapped her foot. “I asked if any of these dresses appealed to you.”
Katie shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind of her unwelcome reverie. “I’m sorry, I...”
Nellie paid her apology no mind. “Come now, Katie Knepp. I chose the plainest dresses I could find.” She flashed her a smile. “We will be pulling into New York City within the hour, so let’s get you dressed, shall we?”
Back in Indiana, trying on dresses consisted of standing still while her mother pinned and measured the bland fabric to fit her frame modestly. It had always been something that was done out of necessity. Never had she considered it being done for fun. Such a thing would be considered prideful. Sinful. But not here. Not in the English world. Thoughts of Rebekah, Joseph, and especially Peter, fizzled as her excitement grew. The nearer they got to New York City, the louder a silent buzz filled the train, so much so that it was almost tangible .
“So, which one will it be, Katie Knepp?” Nellie held up two dresses, one in each hand. The first frock, a basic brown, had hung from her shoulders and accented nothing when she tried it on. The only eye-catching part was a single ribbon of lace that adorned the high-cut neckline. Reminds me of one of Pa’s feed sacks.
The second was a cornflower blue number that hung to the floor. For a split second, Rebekah’s face popped into her mind. The same color as her wedding dress. With puffy sleeves and a shiny, azure belt, however, this dress wouldn’t be seen on an Amish farm any time soon.
“Hmm.” Katie pressed the dress to her front.
Someone banged on the door. “Nellie? Miss Nellie?”
Nellie laid the dresses carefully on the chair, on top of the pile of discarded garb, and turned to slide open the door. “Yes?”
A wide-eyed reporter stood there, grinning. “Miss Nellie Bly?”
Nellie raised her eyebrows. “What can I do for you?”
The reporter looked as though he was about ready to explode with pent-up energy. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the train emitted an ear-splitting shriek. Katie flung her hands over her ears and pressed down hard. Still, it did nothing to stifle the sound.
With a jerk, the train began to slow.
As the noise from the brakes died down, the young, slick-haired reporter spoke with reverence. “Miss Bly, we’re here. We are pulling into the brand new Central Avenue Station in New York City.”
***
Her round face aglow, Nellie cast a glance over her shoulder at Katie. “It’s time, Katie Knepp.”
Something churned in Katie’s stomach. In all of Katie’s life, she’d never tried on dresses like she had here in her private room of Nellie Bly’s train car, and something about it felt strange. Vain. Prideful.
“Choose your dress and meet me in my car. And make haste, Katie Knepp.” Nellie tossed her dark curls over her shoulder. “Our public awaits and we shan’t keep them waiting long.”
Katie nodded and watched as Nellie slid the door closed. Raucous sounds echoed outside, sounds the like Katie’d never heard before. It was time to go see what the English world had to offer. But first...
Katie dug to the bottom of the pile of dresses and chose the one Nellie hadn’t handed her. She slipped off her rumpled Amish apparel and left it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Her skin prickled with exhilaration as she slid the forbidden English silk over her shoulders and let it tumble down over her body.
The white silk clung to her body in ways a dress never had before. Showy. Formfitting. Immodest. She shivered as she cinched the green velvet cloak at her middle.
“Swallowtail-green velvet over white silk, floor-length gown, edged with golden Renaissance-inspired embroidery, reminiscent of French royalty.”
Katie jumped.
In donning the forbidden fabric, she hadn’t heard Nellie slide open the door. Her heart thundered in her chest and her breath caught in her throat.
Nellie smiled and closed the space between them with two long strides. “Something in me thought you’d choose that one. You have fire in you, Katie Knepp.” Nellie held out a hat box. “Then you’ll need this.”
Katie lifted the lid on the box and gasped. An ornate, feathered hat in matching green velvet sat there, begging to be worn.
“It’s too...too much.” Katie’s thundering heart showed no sign of slowing. “I could never wear that.”
Nellie sat the box on the ground and plucked the hat from it easily.
“Oh we must do away with this.” She snatched the gauze bonnet from Katie’s head and tossed it onto the floor. Like an afterthought. Something caught in Katie’s throat.
Ma made that for me. I remember because she was battling a chest cold while she did so. I knew she felt terrible and should rest, but she made it for me anyway...
“Now that that’s out of the way...” As though she was crowning her at a royal coronation, Nellie sat the green, feathered hat carefully atop Katie’s head.
“You can wear it, Katie Knepp.” Nellie beamed. “And you’ll wear it beautifully.”
Without another word, Nellie spun on her heel and marched out of the train car. Without letting Nellie’s brown tweed jacket out of her sight, Katie quick-stepped to keep up.
If I lose her now, I’ll never find my way.
Katie stepped back into the train car and picked up her white covering. Without taking care to fold it, she crammed it into the front of her dress, since the tight-fitting bodice—formfitting and with no room for modesty—came with no pockets.
Her bare feet gave her pause. “Shoes, shoes, I need English shoes.” Katie frantically glanced around the train car. “There!”
An obscure box peeked out at her, beckoning, from behind a chair. Katie plucked them from the box and jammed her feet into them.
“Oomph.” She pulled the laces tight as the train horn blew again. “I have to hurry.”
Katie pushed herself to her feet and toddled toward the door. “This is going to take practice.” She took a step, wobbled, then took another step. “Think like an Englisher, walk like an Englisher...”
