Polly Ch 01

"Where did you get that odd mark from?"

"What mark?" Polly asked as she pulled the sleeve of her dress up over her arms.

"The one on your back near your shoulder," Mary replied.

"Oh, that mark..." Polly laughed. "It's a birth mark. I've always had it."

"What do you think?" Polly asked as she turned so that Mary could see the newly sewed dress on her form.

"They always do a nice job sewing," Mary replied. "But," she held up one finger and laughed. "This time I think they did a fantastic job!...she stopped talking a moment as she looked at the dress. "It's just perfect!" She stepped back. "And how could he possibly look away from you."

"It's just the country dance," Polly replied, "we always attend."

"But this year," she nodded, "your of marrying age," Mary reminded her.

Polly laughed, "So are you..."

They both looked at each other and laughed harder.

"Frank has already asked me to Marry him," Mary assured Polly.

Polly nodded her head and smiled. "Well, good for you my friend."

"John, will ask you too," Mary nodded. "Just you wait and see."

"All John thinks about," Polly assured Mary is the plowing of the fields and the growing of corn."

"Well, that is what he does," Mary nodded at Polly, "he is a farmer."

"Yes," Polly agreed. "He is a farmer. I often think that's all he's really good for...." she stopped talking as she pulled the arms of the dress back down to take it off. "His name should be farmer." She sighed and stepped out of the dress.

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The night of the dance arrived. Both ladies were well dressed and in attendance as the gathering started. Polly brought her poplar apple pies. She'd enter them in the pie baking contest next month. Mary brought her well received pickled radishes. They were Frank's favorite and Mary was all about whatever Frank liked.

The night was young and the air carried a crispness one felt only in the early fall. Polly walked away from the dessert table after placing her pies on it.

She looked around to see who'd arrived and saw John in the distance talking to a ground of farmers. She figured he was talking about his corn. As, corn was all he ever talked about. In the far right and just where everyone entered the gathering stood a very tall and thin man of whom she'd never met let alone seen.

His looks were breathe taking. She had the idea he was part Indian and white man. His skin held a darkness that, even with a tan, the white man's didn't resemble. He wore the same type of suit as those in attendance always wore. But for some odd reason he carried it better than any of the white men she knew. Her gaze didn't travel away from him. She felt drawn to him. It was an odd feeling.

Mary cleared her throat. "keep staring and he might notice you," she laughed.

"What?" Polly jumped and found herself saying as her eyes traveled from the unknown man to Mary.

"That's In-jun Joe," Mary informed her. "He arrived this morning." She pulled Polly away before anyone noticed that she'd been gazing at him too long. "He's just passing through. Don't get any ideas."

Polly nodded her head. "What do I care?" she asked. Making a noticeable effort not to gaze at him. "I am already spoken for."

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Down on the ground, near the opening gate, the Indian had noticed her gazing at him. However, he knew better then to appear to notice that she'd noticed him. In the white man's world he wasn't allowed to show any attention to white women. However, he noticed that her skin, was somewhat like his own. She might be the princess he was searching for. He needed to see her back. If she had that birthmark...

"Joe," someone was talking to him and he'd been lost in thought. He turned so that she no longer appeared in the corner of his eye. He smiled at his acquaintance and continued talking.

The gathering continued on and Polly found herself on the dance floor in John's arms. John was a bad dancer. In fact, John was pretty bad at everything except his corn fields. She often wondered why her family had promised her hand to him in marriage. He wasn't someone she'd have picked. She figured he'd be worthless as a husband. Why he'd not ask her to marry yet amazed her. She'd been promised to him. There was nothing for it but to accept her misgivings and get on with life. The dance continued and she found her gaze searching the area for the tall handsome stranger that her friend told her was named In-jun Joe.

Once again she found him over near the snacks. In his hand, she saw, that he held a plate filled with her apple pie. He seemed to be enjoying it. She continued to watch him. He was eating it as if he were enjoying it. That pleased her.

"Polly?" her name brought her back to the dance floor and John's voice whispering into her ear. "Who you staring at?"

"Me?" she inquired. Realizing she had once again been watching him too closely.

"I was just noticing how everyone seems to be enjoying my apple pies," she answered just to keep John from noticing that she'd been too involved in watching another man rather then noticing how everyone was eating her pies.

John fell for it, as she knew he would. "Everyone has told me about your pies," he assured her. "Some are jealous that you're not going to become their wife so they could have your pies every day," John smiled at her with the most satisfied expression on his face.

"Excuse me, Sir..." an unfamiliar voice spoke over John's right shoulder. They stopped dancing. "Might I relate my most special thanks to your dance partner for the wonderful apple pies she supplied for this gathering tonight?"

Her gazed traveled over John's shoulder and right into the eyes of the Indian she'd spent most of the night gazing at.