“Do you want to get rich?” Sally asked.
“No, but we’d like to be able to live in the nicer side of town and associate with the higher class in Omaha.” Maureen gave Sally a pointed look. “We heard your older brother recently joined that section of town.”
“Yes,” Sally began, “Richard’s business has grown faster than even he expected. The family’s proud of him.”
“I bet they are, as they should be,” Connie agreed. “We heard your family came to Omaha with nothing but the items you had in your wagons.”
“That’s true,” Sally said.
“Why doesn’t the editor of the paper do a story about him?” Connie asked. “It’d be an inspiring story for those of us who are just starting out with our businesses. I’m sure he could teach us something.”
Maureen’s eyes lit up. “What a splendid idea!” She leaned toward Sally. “Your sister-in-law, Jessica, is friends with the editor’s wife. Next time you see her, you should mention it.”
“Oh, well, I’m not sure it’d be something newsworthy,” Sally replied. “The paper is for community events and for reporting what’s happening in Omaha.”
“The newspaper could use more good news,” Connie insisted. “I can’t speak for everyone, but it’s depressing to pick up a paper and see a lot of bad news.” She shook her head. “That story about the man who fell off the roof and died broke my heart. He was the same age as my son.”
Maureen put a comforting hand on Connie’s arm. “I told you that you need to remind yourself that James works in a nice, comfortable office. He won’t ever risk falling off a roof.”
Connie shivered. “It was too close to home. Anyway, that’s just one of the sad stories I recently read. There was another one about a sick woman, and then another about the train that went off its tracks. I just can’t take it. Jessica needs to tell the editor of that paper to put in something pleasant for a change. A stranger would think Omaha is a terrible place to live if he read the paper.”
Mary offered a sympathetic smile. “The editor isn’t trying to make anyone sad. He’s only selecting stories that are happening in the area.”
“Well, Richard is one of the things that’s happening, isn’t he?” Connie asked.
Mary couldn’t argue the woman’s point, so she decided not to answer.
Sally, however, said, “I’ll mention it to Jessica, but I can’t promise anything.”
Connie beamed with pleasure. “That’s all we ask.”
Maureen turned her attention back to Mary. “So, how many cups of sugar do you use in your apple pies?”
Mary shifted from one foot to another. “I’m not comfortable giving out my recipe. It’s a family secret.”
“We’re not asking for the entire recipe,” Maureen replied. “We’re just asking for how much sugar you use.”
Mary glanced from Maureen to Connie, noting their hopeful expressions. Well, it wasn’t like her family back in Maine was here to overhear the conversation. After a moment, she told them how much sugar she used.
“Thank you!” Maureen gave Mary a hug, careful not to interfere with the box Mary was holding.
“And thank you for talking to Jessica for us,” Connie said, giving Sally a hug, also careful about the box Sally was holding.
The two friends hurried back to the apples, and Mary turned to Sally. “Why can’t I say no to them?”
“All you did was tell them how much sugar went into your pie,” Sally said as she retrieved a small container of baking soda.
“I know, but it’s supposed to be a recipe I don’t tell anyone about,” Mary replied. “I’m not supposed to share one single ingredient.”
Sally offered her an understanding smile. “You want to please everyone. It’s just the way you are.”
“Yes, but I should be able to say no.”
“You have said no before.”
“Not to them.” Even after ten years, the two had a way of intimidating her.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mary. We all have people who make us feel intimidated. Just don’t share any other ingredient with them.”
Mary hoped she could do that if the time ever came. Hopefully, they would be content to use their own recipes. She took a deep breath and released it. She’d just have to say no if they asked her anything else about her pies. She would just pretend she was standing in front of her kids when one of them asked her if they could do something dangerous. She had no trouble saying no in that situation.
After she and Sally finished collecting the items on Mary’s list, Mary paid for them. Ralph and the young man he’d hired loaded the crates into the back of the wagon for them.
Before Ralph helped Mary into the wagon, he asked, “Got any idea on when you’ll bring me more things to sell? I had a couple of women asking about those dish towels and potholders you make.”
“I’m working on some more,” she replied. “I should be done with enough for you to sell in a month.”
He frowned in disappointment. “A whole month?”
“Maybe I can finish in two weeks.”
“That’s more like it.” He gave her a wink. “You have a gift. That husband of yours should let you use it instead of making you cook meals all the time.”
“Oh, don’t pester her,” Sally said as Ralph’s assistant helped her into the wagon. “She’s got three children on top of taking care of David.”
Ralph waited until Sally settled into a comfortable spot before shooting her a pointed look. “You need to call him Dave. I swear, every time you call him David, it takes me a second to realize we’re talking about the same person.”
“I won that race when we were children,” Sally began. “And—”
“And because of that you get to call him
