Lori Copeland - Bluebonnet Belle

“Dash it all, I don’t care,” Beulah said as the two hugged each other. “My life is full. I don’t need any man to boss me around. Not one like Henry, that’s for sure.”

“I know you don’t like Henry, but you don’t know him like I do,” April whispered.

“I’ve known him as long as you have.”

“He’s so…charming, attentive,” April argued. “Do you know what he calls me?”

“Slave?”

“No, be serious.”

Eyeing her warily, Beulah said, “What?”

“Bluebonnet belle. Isn’t that just the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard!”

“Simply ducky.”

Just then the bell over the door rang, and aged, nearly deaf Mrs. Faith hobbled in.

“Good day to you, Mrs. Faith.” Beulah greeted the elderly lady loudly. “What can I do for you?”

“Eh?”

“What can I do for you?”

Mrs. Faith leaned on her cane and waved a piece of paper. “Got this prescription, Porky. That young doctor gave it to me and told me to bring it over here and give it to you.”

“Let me see what you have,” Beulah said, reading the prescription. “Yes, we can fill this for you.”

“Eh?”

“We have this!” Beulah shouted toward her less-deaf ear.

“You sure? I wouldn’t want to get the wrong thing. Doctor says it would help my gout.”

“I’m sure it will. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Well, hurry up. It’s been paining me something awful lately.”

April motioned to Beulah, who excused herself from her customer, saying she’d be right back.

“Give her some of Mrs. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound.”

“What?” Beulah demanded in a hushed whisper.

“Give Mrs. Faith some of the compound.”

“Are you out of your mind? She’s got the gout, not the monthlies!” Glancing at her customer, Beulah smiled. “Just take a minute, Mrs. Faith!”

“Eh?”

“Some of the compound, Beulah. Pour some in a bottle and tell her to use it in addition to the prescribed medicine.”

“Never. The compound is not going to help her gout, and Papa would have a fit. Do you know the consequences of dispensing medicine without the proper authority?”

“It isn’t medicine. It’s just an herbal compound. But it will really perk her up. You’ll see.”

It was the perfect answer. April had been trying to think of a way to boost sales and get the word out about the compound, and the solution was right under her nose!

“The compound is for female problems,” Beulah argued in a quiet tone, glancing at Mrs. Faith again.

“Oh, come on, do the woman a good deed and give her some of the compound.”

When Mrs. Faith glowered toward them again, Beulah waved. “Be right with you, ma’am.”

“You do have some, don’t you? You didn’t pour it out?” April had brought her friend a sizable jugful a few weeks ago, thinking she might use it.

“I have it,” Beulah snapped. “I intended to throw it away, but Papa’s always around when I think of it.”

“Then do it.” April took her arm, urging her toward the back room. Mrs. Faith looked up again, glowering.

April and Beulah waved, grinning.

“I can’t tamper with Papa’s prescriptions,” Beulah whispered.

April made sure she kept smiling as she led her friend to the back room. “What tampering? There’s nothing in the compound to hurt her. I want to see if it really does what Lydia says it will.”

“I can’t.”

“Come on, come on, please. I need to know how good this tonic really is.”

It would make her decision to help Lydia Pinkham in her endeavor to improve women’s health so much easier if she knew for certain the compound worked. Not to mention make her feel less guilty about keeping her activities from Grandpa.

“Then take it yourself.”

“I don’t have any problems—except the wicked monthlies.”

“Mrs. Faith doesn’t even have the wicked monthlies. She’s got the gout!”

“And female problems, I bet. She has to. She’s old as dirt. At least offer her some, and see if she agrees to take it.”

Dragging a chair to the shelf, Beulah climbed up on it, balancing her bulk as she reached for a gallon jug well hidden behind a row of bottles. “If Papa ever gets wind of this he’ll take a belt to me.”

“Just tell him the truth. In addition to filling Mrs. Faith’s prescription, you suggested a mild tonic that one of your customers makes and uses herself.” April helped lower the gallon jug. “That isn’t a lie.”

“Well…we do sell and ship a lot of nettle tea to Mrs. Pinkham.”

Reaching for a funnel, Beulah poured some of the compound into a small brown medicine bottle. “See what you’re making me do?”

“You’ll be glad you did it when you see how perky Mrs. Faith becomes.”

When the bottle was full, Beulah stuck a cork in it and hurriedly shoved the jug of compound back on the shelf.

The two young women emerged from the back room, smiling. “I’ll fill your prescription now, Mrs. Faith.”

April browsed the small pharmacy, keeping an eye on her friend as she attended her duties.

“Here you are, Mrs. Faith,” Beulah said a few moments later, as she came down the steps carrying the medicine.

“Humph. High time,” Mrs. Faith grumbled. She dug in her purse for a coin. “How much, Porky?”

“Twenty-five cents.”

“Twenty-five cents! Where’s your gun? Does that young whippersnapper doctor think I’m made out of money?”

“Papa’s working hard to get the prices down.”

“Does he believe money grows on trees?”

“I don’t think so.”

Handing her the coins, Mrs. Faith turned to leave.

Shooting a warning look, April motioned to the bottle of compound Beulah was still holding. Her friend’s face screwed into a stubborn mask.

April held her gaze, daring her to back down.

“Oh, Mrs. Faith?”

The old woman paused in the doorway. “What is it?”

Clearing her throat, Beulah grinned. “Would you like to try some tonic?”

She frowned. “Some what?”

“Some tonic. It will give you get up and go.”

The old woman glared indignantly. “Are you saying I don’t have get up and go?”

“No, of course not. You’re in fine shape…for your age…”

Mrs. Faith’s frown turned menacing.

April quickly stepped in. “Oh, you mean that wonderful tonic everyone is talking about? Do you have some?”

Beulah nodded halfheartedly. April could see she wasn’t in the spirit of the sale.

“Well, I’d love to try some. Wouldn’t you, Mrs. Faith?”

“Don’t need it.” She started out the door again.

“Wait!” April hurried over to take the bottle out of Beulah’s grasp. Handing it to Mrs. Faith, she smiled. “Just take a couple of spoonfuls a day for the next week and see if you can tell any difference in how you feel.”

“I feel fine.”

“I know, but you’ll feel even better.” April confidently tucked the bottle into the small basket the woman habitually carried on her left arm.

Mrs. Faith studied the bottle. “Don’t think I’m going to pay for it.”

“Certainly not—you wouldn’t think of charging her for it, would you, Beulah?”

Shaking her head, Beulah busied herself dusting the foot powders.

“Well, guess it can’t hurt.” The old woman eyed the two girls sternly. “Porky Ludwig, does your papa know you lollygag around, whispering and giggling, when he’s not here?”

“Yes, ma’am, he does, and he’s warned me about it,” Beulah assured her. April held the front door open as the woman hobbled out.

When the door closed, Beulah flew into her. “I hope you know what you’re doing, April Truitt!”

April laughed. “She’ll be swinging from the rafters this time next week.”