Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [32]
“I think the entire thing is a waste of time.” The sheriff’s wife, Corda Nussbaum, had a weak spot for hats. The more outrageous the better. Georgie had been concerned she might not even have one without bird parts, but today’s toque sported a profusion of silk poppies in vivid cerise, trimmed with black velvet ribbon. No bird parts. “Even if we were to sign your pledge and the men quit hunting, the birds we saved would simply fly north during winter migration and be killed by Yankees.”
“Yankees?” Mrs. von Goethe was nearing her ninetieth birthday and had lost a husband and a son during the Civil War. “Are the Yankees coming? Schnell! Hide die Kinder.”
Corda patted her grandmother’s hand. “The Yankees aren’t coming, Oma. The children are safe.”
Georgie felt as if she stood in front of a firing squad, a volley of bullets jerking her body with each subsequent hit. But if they thought she’d fall down and die, they were mistaken.
Still, she’d only been here a year, and if the community had thoroughly embraced her, it wasn’t on her own merits but because of her position as switchboard operator. She’d been foolish to think the ladies would support her. Unprepared for the fierceness of their opposition, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “What you say is true, Corda, but all of us have to do our part. What if our Plumage League collected the most pledges in the entire country? Why, a member of Mr. Audubon’s family might come to personally thank us.”
“Who is Audubon?” Mrs. von Goethe looked to her granddaughter. “Is he the Yankee the Cummings girl married? Imagine. Marrying a Yankee. Skandalös!”
Corda held a finger to her lips. “Hush, Oma.”
The doctor’s wife stood. Though her figure was a bit thick in the middle, her corset pushed plenty of excess to the top and the rest to the bottom, giving her an attractive hourglass figure.
As one of the wealthiest women in town, she set the standard for social behavior and fashion. The first time Georgie stepped into their home, she’d gawked at its lush furnishings. Mrs. von Hardenberg’s exquisite taste in clothing compelled her to turn to Chicago and New York for her apparel. If she spoke out against Georgie’s cause, it would be the final nail in the coffin.
Georgie held her breath.
“I had no idea our birds were in such danger.” From her Gainsborough hat to her champagne wool gown, she looked as if she’d stepped out of a Harper’s Bazaar fashion plate. “God has indeed given us dominion over the animals. And when much is given, much is expected. I vow not to wear any more hats with bird parts. Pass me the pledge, please.”
The room burst into chatter, and though Georgie never officially adjourned the meeting, the ladies rose. Some signed the pledge, some ate the food, and a great many left with polite but strained good-byes.
When Georgie closed the door behind her final guest, she had one dozen signatures. Among them the doctor’s wife, the banker’s wife, and the mayor’s wife.
She tried to convince herself their signatures should count double, even triple, but truth was, it would take more than a dozen pledges to put an end to Ottfried’s offer and the selling of bird parts. She needed a new battle plan. For her enemy was not only the milliner, but the women in town who had more to lose than a fancy hat.
Chapter Ten
The Gun Club met at the fairgrounds every Sunday afternoon. This one couldn’t have been a more perfect day for it. The balmy temperature, smattering of clouds, and absence of wind would eliminate the usual excuses for inaccurate shooting.
Luke tied Honey Dew to a hitching rail beside several other horses. A group of men milled about the edge of the racetrack, most with a beer in one