Page 3 of Native Hawk
She narrowed her eyes. “What does this mean—my kind?”
“Women who wear…” The woman thinned her lips, then spat out the word. “Bustles.”
Catalina blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Disgustin’,” the woman grumbled, yanking on Agatha’s arm.
“But Ma!”
“Come along, young lady.”
“Aww, Ma!”
Catalina didn’t mean to laugh as the woman dragged her daughter off, but the situation was ridiculous. The woman didn’t care that she was a foreigner. She just didn’t like the way she was dressed.
Her laughter caught the attention of several pedestrians. They turned to look at her with a mix of expressions ranging from curiosity to confusion, from appreciation to disgust.
Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen a single woman in this town wearing a bustle. No wonder they were all staring at her. They’d probably never seen such a contrivance.
How strange she must look to them. And yet they thought nothing of strutting about in enormous, stiff crinolines and poke bonnets that were decades out of fashion.
Deciding that now was as good a time as any to allay their fears that she might be “that kind” of woman, she planted the point of her closed parasol on the boards in front of her, cleared her throat, and addressed the town as a whole.
“Hello! Yes! My name is Catalina, and I am wearing a bustle!” she announced, bringing all of the main street to a halt. She pivoted to the side to give them a good look at her profile. “It is the fashion in Italy, worn by all the finest ladies!” She turned this way and that, allowing them to see the back of her dress as well. Then she called out, “I am a designer of clothings! If you wish me to design a bustle dress for you…”
Almost in unison, the mortified citizens averted their gazes and lowered their heads, shuffling on about their business.
Catalina frowned. How unfriendly these people were. She didn’t expect to be welcomed like a long-lost cousin. But she deserved at least a bit of courtesy.
She sighed. It would have been easy to be discouraged. Here, with no friends or family, things looked bleak. But she hadn’t come this far to slink back to Italy like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Certainly, fitting in to a town like Paradise was going to be a challenge. But it wasn’t impossible. It was simply a matter of having a positive attitude, making a few minor adjustments, and then employing sheer force of will.
Just like fitting into a corset.
