“I thank you, sir, but this is going to be my wedding dress.”
“Oh is it now?” He raised his furry eyebrows. “A blue wedding dress isn’t something we see all too often.”
Rebekah nodded. “It is. And tradition says that it is my job to make it.”
The old man dug in his inside pocket. “I see.” He produced a scrap of cloth and held it out to her. “I was taking this home for my wife to sew into some booties for our newest grands.”
Rebekah accepted the red-and-black plaid material. It was soft and heavier than she expected. “I’m grateful, thank you.”
“You’re not getting a suitable wedding dress out of it as there’s not enough but for a pair of booties or two, but it will be a nice bit for an accent here or there.”
Rebekah rubbed it between her fingers. The man’s kindness and the thought of her ill father brought a familiar burn to her eyes.
“And remember us, my wife and me.”
Rebekah’s power of speech was lost somewhere in between her dry mouth and tight throat, so she couldn’t even say goodbye as the strangely nice man shuffled across the floor and out the door, into the Indiana night.
My collar and cuffs, she thought. And of course, I will always remember your kindness.
Chapter Seven
On the Train to NYC
The rattling of the train had a soothing effect that had Katie sleeping almost as soon as she sat down in her private room in Nellie Bly’s train car. The news reporters were all too happy to give Katie her privacy, as they were interested more in Nellie, than in the bonneted, plain girl who tagged along behind her.
She’d roused a few times, thanks to strange and fitful dreams featuring Peter as a key player, but she refused to give into the dreams and actually think about Peter. Instead, she clutched a beaded pillow to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut until sleep overtook her again. It’s best to forget about him now, while I’m on the way to my new life. He probably has forgotten about me, anyway. I mean, who would waste time thinking of someone who stood them up at their meeting place...
Still, her restless thoughts refused to let her fully relax. When someone banged on her door and shocked her awake, Katie didn’t feel as though she’d slept hardly at all.
“Katie? Katie!” Nellie’s voice was insistent from the other side of the door. “Are you sleeping?”
Katie yawned and sat up, her heart pounding from the sudden start. “No, come in Nellie.”
She paused a moment to collect her thoughts as the door to her room slid open. “Or would you like for me to call you Elizabeth, your real name?”
The fact that the nice woman had two names, but only used one, still confused Katie. Even in her limited contact with the English, who already had such different and worldly ways from what she was used to in Gasthof Village, Nellie—Elizabeth—seemed outlandish.
Nellie, her arms loaded down with dresses and cloaks, flashed a gleaming grin and stepped inside. “Nellie is fine. Elizabeth is my given name, but the world knows me as Nellie.”
“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?”
