Sunshine peeked through the tops of the elm trees that lined the thoroughfare that was Broadway Street, the warm rays invigorating the sparrows who bounced around from branch to branch without a care in the world. As she passed beneath them, however, Cordia Pike could not help but think of all the worries that may be coming in the not-so-distant future. She made her way along the brick sidewalk, her long gown swishing back and forth. Occasionally, she waved at a familiar face within one of the wagons or carriages that made its way down the busy street from the town square. Conveniently, Cordia’s family lived only a few blocks from Lamar Square, the geographical center of the town and the economic and social heart for its residents. So, she could easily walk the short distance between their home and any business she could possibly need to visit. The year was 1860 and Lamar had been settled for less than twenty years. It was the county seat of Barton County, Missouri, and it was thriving. Two railroad tracks kept the people employed and the visitors coming in streams. But Cordia could not help but wonder how much longer this peaceful life they had laid out for themselves would last.
She made her way across the busy intersection on the southwest corner of the square. Her father was the President of Barton County Bank and Trust, which was located on the northwest corner of the square. She nodded her bonnet at strangers and greeted the many faces that she knew as she made her way across the final street and into the two-story building. Her father, Isaac Pike, had moved to the area that was now Lamar as a young boy. His family had done well, and he was able to found the Barton County Bank and Trust, with a little bit of help from a few state senators and congressmen he had befriended over the years. He and his wife, Jane, lived in one of the most beautiful houses in town, and he was well respected, both for his work at the bank and his dedication to the city. Cordia swung open the thick mahogany doors, Overly ornate for such a country settlement, she had always thought, shaking the dust off of her light-blue gown.
“Well, hello there, Miss Cordia,” a familiar voice called from across the black and white checked marble floor.
“Good day, Mrs. Adams,” Cordia replied, smiling at the older woman who was crossing the hall toward the exit. “It’s so lovely to see you,” she added, shifting the basket she was carrying with her so as to offer her hand.
Margaret Adams beamed as she took Cordia’s white-gloved hand delicately into her own. “Cordia—it is always a pleasure to see your beautiful face. I was just getting some business out of the way for Arthur. He is very busy planting these days, you know. Has every single one of those boys of ours out there in the fields as well. You know what he is always saying, ‘Nothing quite like a long day’s work to make a man proud.’ Are you bringing that pa of yours some dinner?”
Cordia nodded and stepped out of the way so that others could make their way in and out of the doors. “Yes, I try to bring him something at least a few times a week. It is hard for him to find time to eat these days himself. The town is booming right now.”
Margaret’s face lit up. “I know! Isn’t it wonderful? Who would have imagined a railroad would have had this kind of impact on a little old town like ours?” She reached up and adjusted the bow of her bonnet. Margaret was a working woman whose hands and face showed what sun and weather could do. Her dress reflected this as well, Cordia noted, thinking of the difference between her own stylishly cut bonnet, and Margaret’s simple, homemade bonnet, designed to keep the sun out of her eyes, not the eyes of the men on her. Although, the Adams family had done quite well for themselves as local farmers. In fact, they were some of the wealthiest folks in town, though you could certainly not tell by their demeanor, or in the way they presented themselves to the rest of the citizens of the town. “Well, you give our best to your dear father,” Margaret smiled, embracing Cordia quickly before stepping toward the door.
“Yes,” Cordia replied, a little surprised at Margaret’s show of affection. “Please send my best to your family as well.”
“All right, dear. We’ll see you on Sunday.” Margaret stepped through the door and out to her wagon that was tied to the post not too far away. Cordia watched her briefly before turning back around and proceeding to her father’s office. Sunday. Just three days from now. She would be attending church at the First Baptist Church as always. But afterward, she would be joining Margaret’s oldest son, Jaris, on yet another afternoon stroll. She had been on many such walks with Jaris lately. Was Margaret’s embrace some indication that this Sunday would be different than other Sundays?
“Miss Cordia? Is something the matter with you, dear?”
Cordia looked up to see Mr. Sulley, one of the bank tellers, looking at her curiously from behind the banking counter. She blinked, wondering if he had been speaking to her and she had not heard, lost in her thoughts. “Good day, Mr. Sulley,” she said, a polite smile turning up the corners of her mouth.
“Well, that’s more like it, dear.” The old man chuckled, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. “You must have been dreaming of your mama’s ham. I could smell the sweet aroma the second you walked in the door. Boy howdy is your daddy in for a treat today.”
“Yes, sir,” Cordia said over her shoulder as she continued toward her father’s office. She stopped and turned slightly to add, “If I ever do get it to him.” She smiled back at him and ascended the staircase. Her father’s office was on the second floor, giving him a view of the town as it spread out from the square.