It was a clear morning when Effie set out to find Mr. Nordstrom's store. She still wasn't quite used to walking around town alone, but there was nothing improper to it. No longer. Nothing improper, either, in a married woman calling at a gentleman's outfitters.
A light shawl was draped around her shoulders, and a basket on her arm held samples of thread and lace. The doorbell chimed as she opened it, blinking slightly to adjust her eyes to the lower light levels inside the store. "Mr. Nordstrom? Are ye in?"