Chapter 1

The Mills family was not the most prominent family in Oklahoma City, but we were the most well known. My father Clarence Mills was an executive and one of the first people to run the Katy, which was the first railway running from Kansas, to Texas.

My older brother Clarence Jr. was working under him, he was married to Bessie and they had two children so far. Bessie said she wanted a big family, just like hers. My brother was more like my father. I'm sure he loved his children, but I don't think he particularly cared one way or the other if they had a big family or not. He was a burly man like my father, intimidating. Bessie was short and thin, with honey colored hair and ocean blue eyes. Elizabeth told me once that she almost died as a child, because she was so frail and sickly. Which may be the reason my brother wasn't urging her to have more children.

My sister Elizabeth was the clear beauty of our family. From her long auburn hair, which she always wore up, to her green eyes and porcelain skin. I felt like a little servant child next to her, so plain with my scraggily chestnut hair and brown eyes and olive skin. She looked beautiful like our mother; I on the other hand had more features from my father that sometimes I thought God had made an awful mistake making me a girl. Elizabeth and my mother would always assure me that I was just going through an ugly period and would be beautiful too when it was my turn. I had my doubts, but I would pray every night for God to make me just as pretty as Elizabeth, and every morning I woke up to disappointment. I wasn't sure exactly when I was going to be pretty but I knew it wasn't sixteen, and the year I turned seventeen wasn't it either. According to Elizabeth, when I turned eighteen the tides had turned, my skin had softened, my dark brown eyes lightened, how that was possible I don't know but I was willing to buy it.

At the winter ball in 1889 my sister Elizabeth had gotten engaged to Oliver Allen, after courting for two years. The reason it took so long she said, was because he was going through medical school to make her life as comfortable as she was accustomed. I on the other hand wanted someone with passion, I didn't think too much into how we would live, to which my sister would frown and shake her head. Oliver's father and our father were friends; the Allen's owned a ranch on the other side of town. We use to spend Sunday afternoons with them either at their house or ours. Oliver was a few years older than Elizabeth and Ben was a year younger than her. You would think it would be natural that we play together. That was not the case, Oliver would try to get us to play cowboys and Indians, but when we were the ones being the Indians only to be roped, hog tied, and eventually shot with their wooden whittled cork guns.

Oliver wasn't plain but I didn't see why Elizabeth made such a fuss about him. He had short brown hair and plain brown eyes just like me, but he was a very tall man and always so well dressed. He called her Lizzie, as we all did, but I drew the line at her calling him Ollie, that was absolutely ridiculous.

However the big problem started when the Allens came over one Sunday afternoon with Oliver to nail down the rest of the wedding plans. No one was really sure what happened between them, one minute they were walking through the garden. I was following behind arguing with Ben, as we usually did as the chaperons. Ben and I always argued, because he had this idea I was a prissy girl, when all of the sudden she slapped him and ran past us. We stared at Oliver in shock, not really sure what happened or what to do, he ran after her, and we turned and trailed them. She had locked herself in her room, my father and Mr. Allen laughed saying, "Just a couples spat, as all couples have," and reminisced about spats they had before they each got married. My mother came upstairs to check on Lizzie who was sobbing, behind a locked door.

Oliver sat on the couch his head in his hands, my father and Mr. Allen laughed at him, until he spoke. Ben and I walked in just in time to hear my father shouted, "Outrageous, Charles Allen, is this how you raised your son. To insult a young woman a week before their wedding!" he yelled. I peeked through the wooden bars on the stairs, "Maybe if you hadn't raised such a spoiled brat," Mr. Allen shouted back as he grabbed his hat. The Allen's left with Oliver protesting to go and talk to Lizzie, but our fathers wouldn't have it. My mother came walking back down, "Clarence, she won't come out," my mother said in her calm soothing voice. "Well Rose, the wedding is off. I won't have her belong to that obscene family," he shouted still angry.

I snuck upstairs and tapped on Lizzie's door, "Lizzie, it's me, let me in," I said quietly. She unlocked her door and I pushed it open, "What happened?" I asked. "I don't want to talk about it," she replied. "They left," I told her. "Good," she said brushing away tears. I let out a sigh, "Lizzie, this is stupid, you've waited nearly three years to marry Oliver. Do you really want to call off the wedding?" I asked. She turned around, "No, I'm not calling off the wedding, I just," she paused, "What he said was rude, so I'm making him sweat a little," she finished. "What did he say to you?" I pushed getting exasperated by her antics. "He said that I might not be happy with the house he purchased, in town," she explained indignantly. I sat down on the edge of her bed confused, "And that was rude?" I questioned. "Oh Luce, you don't know anything. He's making assumptions of my personality, he's presuming I'm a spoiled," she answered. I searched the carpet on the floor, I was very confused, "Lizzie, that sounds like he's nervous," I stated almost angry. She turned and looked at me horrified that I would agree with him, "That's why you don't have any callers," she said snubbing her nose. "Lizzie, you are being mean," I called back angry, it was the only thing I could think up quickly. "Oh get out Lucille," she told me annoyed. I got up frustrated and walked out slamming the door, I hated when anyone called me Lucille.

Lizzie did come down for dinner, but I was still mad at her. "Feeling better dear?" my father asked sitting down. "Yes father, I'm sure Ollie is just nervous, he's such a lamb," she answered. I looked at her confused, "Lizzie, I distinctly heard you said you didn't want to marry him," my mother said just as confused as I was. "I was just angry," Lizzie brushed off. My eyes darted between Lizzie and my parents, "Elizabeth Mills, you can not say things like that in anger," my mother scolded. Lizzie frowned, "It's fine mother, he will come to call tomorrow and I'll forgive him and the wedding will proceed," she stated matter of factly and went on eating, while my parents stared at each other confused. "Elizabeth Mills, if you think I'm going to apologize to the Allens," my father began. "Papa, I told you Ollie will come by tomorrow," she interrupted. "Lizzie, this is a terrible thing to do to that boy. You've known him your whole life, why on earth are you playing games with him?" My mother continued to chastise her. Lizzie glared at her, "Just wait and see," she said smugly. We ate in silence, I don't think my parents knew what to say to her. My mother was clearly upset that this was how Lizzie was choosing to treat Ollie and my father was adamant he was not going to apologize. I had a feeling this was all going to blow up in Lizzie's face and I was right, when Oliver didn't show Lizzie locked herself in her room and refused to come out.

For the few days, Lizzie stayed in her room. I had to help more with my younger brother John and sisters Anna and Alice, since she wouldn't come out. The longer she stayed in there, the more angry I got with her. On Wednesday the mailman came a little early, I grabbed it since I was passing the door, I was looking through the mail when my father came home. ���Is that the mail?" He asked. "Yes Papa, I was hoping Oliver wrote a letter to Lizzie," I told him. "I'll look," he assured patting me on the arm. "Ok Papa, thanks," I said and went to the kitchen. I stopped in the dining room and peeked behind the wall and saw him going through, he stopped and tucked on into his jacket pocket. "Papa," I said coming out. He jumped startled, "What was that?" I asked. "Oh just a letter for me, bank stuff. Well, what's for dinner, smells wonderful," he said walking past me. I didn't believe him, it was probably the first time in my life that I thought my father was lying. I didn't know what he was lying about and I didn't know how to process it.

On Thursday I took Lizzie her lunch, "Lizzie," I called. I opened the door and saw my sister writing at her desk. I had never seen her a mess, her hair disheveled and she was sitting in her wedding dress. "Lizzie?" I called again. "He hasn't responded to any of my letters," she whispered. "You've been writing him?" I asked. She nodded sniffling, "Papa has been taking them in to town with him," she answered. I stood with the plate of sandwiches, "The mail hasn't come today," I replied trying to give her some light of hope. She smiled and looked at me, "Luce, you're getting prettier by the day," she told me. I had started wearing my hair like and adult woman, pulled up into a loose bun. I smiled, "Mother said it's time I start presenting myself like a woman," I explained. She smiled, "I told you, you would be beautiful," she said sniffling. I wanted to just yell at her to snap out of it, that she could find someone more handsome than old Oliver Allen, but I just couldn't. She turned back to the window, I set the sandwiches down. "I'll check the mail, maybe something has come," I said and turned to run down stairs. "He doesn't want to talk to me," she said tiredly. "Lizzie, is it really all that bad?" I asked. "You're so young you wouldn't understand. But if he doesn't want to marry me then no one will," she explained. I didn't know what to say to that, "I don't want to be a spinster, living with you and your family," she said. "I'm sorry Lizzie, maybe I could go over to his house and ask him," I pleaded. "No, he's made it clear," she said looking distantly out the window. "What about the harvest party? If you show up in a new dress all fancy I'm sure he'll come crawling back begging to let father marry you," I urged. She smiled, "That harvest party is a month away," she reminded me in a hopeless voice. "Lizzie just come out of this room, please, I can't stand you being locked up in this room," I begged. She smiled at me, "You'll be fine," she said. "I think, Oliver has been writing you and papa has been hiding them," I admitted. Lizzie looked at me in shock, "Why would he do that?" He asked. "I don't know, maybe because he already called off the wedding," I suggested. She shook her head and looked back out the window. I walked out defeated I had tried to tell her but she wouldn't believe me.