Bluebonnet Belle. Lori Copeland
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her the coins, Mrs. Faith turned to leave.
Shooting a warning look, April motioned to the bottle of compound Beulah was still holding. Her friend’s face screwed into a stubborn mask.
April held her gaze, daring her to back down.
“Oh, Mrs. Faith?”
The old woman paused in the doorway. “What is it?”
Clearing her throat, Beulah grinned. “Would you like to try some tonic?”
She frowned. “Some what?”
“Some tonic. It will give you get up and go.”
The old woman glared indignantly. “Are you saying I don’t have get up and go?”
“No, of course not. You’re in fine shape…for your age…”
Mrs. Faith’s frown turned menacing.
April quickly stepped in. “Oh, you mean that wonderful tonic everyone is talking about? Do you have some?”
Beulah nodded halfheartedly. April could see she wasn’t in the spirit of the sale.
“Well, I’d love to try some. Wouldn’t you, Mrs. Faith?”
“Don’t need it.” She started out the door again.
“Wait!” April hurried over to take the bottle out of Beulah’s grasp. Handing it to Mrs. Faith, she smiled. “Just take a couple of spoonfuls a day for the next week and see if you can tell any difference in how you feel.”
“I feel fine.”
“I know, but you’ll feel even better.” April confidently tucked the bottle into the small basket the woman habitually carried on her left arm.
Mrs. Faith studied the bottle. “Don’t think I’m going to pay for it.”
“Certainly not—you wouldn’t think of charging her for it, would you, Beulah?”
Shaking her head, Beulah busied herself dusting the foot powders.
“Well, guess it can’t hurt.” The old woman eyed the two girls sternly. “Porky Ludwig, does your papa know you lollygag around, whispering and giggling, when he’s not here?”
“Yes, ma’am, he does, and he’s warned me about it,” Beulah assured her. April held the front door open as the woman hobbled out.
When the door closed, Beulah flew into her. “I hope you know what you’re doing, April Truitt!”
April laughed. “She’ll be swinging from the rafters this time next week.”
Returning to her dusting, Beulah fretted. “Dr. Fuller will tell Papa if he finds out I gave her Lydia Pinkham’s compound.
“He won’t know it’s Lydia’s compound.”
“Dr. Fuller caters to Mrs. Faith, you know. Tells her she’s beautiful. She laps it up—but then, most of the unmarried women in town and half the married women suddenly have a ‘problem’ now. Have you noticed?”
“That he’s single?”
“That he’s handsome, silly.”
“I’ve noticed.” April brushed an imaginary speck of dust off the counter.
“Now, there’s a man I’d like to kidnap.”
“Well, he is nice-looking, but he isn’t my type.”
“Meaning he doesn’t agree with your opinion of Mrs. Pinkham’s compound?”
“You should have seen him at the rally the other day. I don’t know why he was there. Standing there in the midst of all those women, arms crossed, looking as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Spoke right up about how females should trust doctors. Nearly started a riot. He saw me, and if looks could kill, I’d be lying in Grandpa’s front parlor right now.”
“Golly.” Beulah’s eyes widened. “Does he know who you are?”
“No. He visits on the porch with Grandpa occasionally, but it’s dark and I keep well-hidden. He hasn’t seen me, I’m almost certain, or he would have told Grandpa about the compound. He’s a snitch.”
“How do you know?”
April shrugged. “He’s too good-looking to be honorable.”
“Well, if the compound’s everything Mrs. Pinkham claims it is, the good doctor would be out of business in a week.”
April snorted. “I don’t think he’s threatened either by the compound or by me.”
Beulah paused, her dust cloth suspended in midair. “You didn’t make a scene.”
“No…well, sort of. I fell over my table of elixir.”
“Accidentally?”
“No, on purpose. The crowd was out of control, coming at me. I backed up, fell over the table, cracked my head, then pretended to be unconscious.”
“And it worked?”
She blushed, recalling how Gray Fuller had seen right through her little ruse. Undoubtedly he had had a good laugh at her expense.
“You should have seen me. It was humiliating. The table collapsed, making a horrendous scene. I would’ve been smarter to let the crowd trample me.”
Beulah laughed. “And Dr. Fuller saw you?”
“Saw me? He rushed over to help. Naturally, I pretended to faint, but he knew what I was doing.”
Her friend’s hand flew to her mouth. “He knew?”
“Without a doubt, but he went along with me. Actually, he was rather charming about the whole thing.”
April knew his kind. All charm, certain his diploma gave him all kinds of rights—including meddling, if he could.
“I don’t know, April. Eventually he’ll know who you are. Maybe you should go to him and explain about your grandpa’s heart, and why you don’t want him to know you’re working with Lydia.”
“No. It’s none of Dr. Fuller’s business.”
“After your mother’s unfortunate death, your grandpa might understand why you’re working to help save other women from the same fate,” Beulah mused.
“Grandpa refuses to talk about Mama.”
The loss of his only daughter during a routine hysterectomy seven years earlier had traumatized him. Riley had never fully recovered. When Delane’s name was mentioned, he refused to discuss her.
“Any man who takes in a fourteen-year-old girl to raise—a pigheaded fourteen-year-old, I might add—can’t be as close-minded as you paint him to be.”
Sighing, April went to look out the pharmacy window. “I saw Mama die. And she didn’t need to. If that doctor had known more, if he’d had something like Lydia’s vegetable compound to at least try before surgery, my mother might still be alive. That’s why I do what I do—not to torment Grandpa, but in the hope that someone else won’t lose their mother or daughter to needless medical procedures.”
“Then why wouldn’t your grandpa encourage you to sell a product intended to help women?”
“He thinks the compound is nonsense, and it wouldn’t help anyone.”
“He told you this?”
“He doesn’t have to. I’ve heard him talking. He thinks women are silly for taking it.”
“Still, I think you should tell Riley what you’re doing.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion. Just make sure you don’t let it slip when Grandpa comes in to buy sundries.”