Diantha

by Zina Abbott

  Diantha looked down at her hands. They already showed signs of the housekeeping work she did to clean rooms since she could no longer afford a maid for the hotel. Like the cook, the maid Eugene had hired before the disaster was a daughter of one of the deceased miners. She and her mother were among the first to get their money from Mayor Fugit and leave Wildcat Ridge. As a planter’s daughter, Diantha had not been taught her how to clean a house. She had carefully observed the servants go about their duties in the family’s mansion. It served her well after the war when the family did not have as many servants as before. She had already knew how to do the light housekeeping in her private quarters—the bedroom and sitting room on the other side of the wall behind the registration desk—but Eugene had insisted the maids hired to clean the hotel rooms do the heavy housekeeping tasks such as scrubbing floors, washing windows, and beating the carpets.

  Diantha’s forehead wrinkled with consternation as she pondered who would do all the laundry generated the previous week now her former laundress was gone. In addition, her two long-term boarders were due to have their linens changed. That was one task she had never learned to do.

  At the sound of the tea kettle whistling, Diantha closed the door and turned to her stove. Perhaps eating a light breakfast would give her time to work out what she should do. She poured the water over the infuser in her teapot, slipped her egg into the pan of boiling water, and turned over her three-minute, hourglass egg timer. She knew from experience she would need to turn it again since it took longer to cook at the high mountain elevation. While the tea steeped and her egg cooked, she sliced off a piece of bread she bought at the Sugar & Spice Bakery two doors down from the hotel and spread it with some apple butter she had purchased from Tweedie’s Mercantile.

  Thoughts of what she planned to do with her portion of the widows’ donation and her week of hotel cash receipts filled her mind. She dared not keep a large amount of money in the hotel. Tales of scalawags and robbers in the area, especially since the horse auction, abounded. If robbers knew her hotel had been full of guests and decided to ransack the place looking for anything they could steal, she would lose everything she had worked so hard to earn the past week.

  The latest rumor regarding Crane Bank discouraged her from depositing it in the hotel account. Birdie, a teller there until Saturday, left a warning with her former boardinghouse owner, Maggie Loftin. She had overheard a conversation between Mr. Crane and his manager regarding plans to close up the bank here in Wildcat Ridge and move all the assets, including the money deposited in customer accounts, to Mr. Crane’s new bank in Cranesville about fifteen miles away.

  Unfortunately, another consequence of being raised as a Southern plantation owner’s daughter during the War Between the States was that as a child, she never learned to ride a horse. Almost all of the plantation horses were either requisitioned or stolen for the war effort. When there were horses or mules, they were used to pull the carriage driven by the old former slave who refused to leave the plantation. She had never learned to drive a carriage or buggy herself. Even as an adult, Eugene—ever the Southern gentleman no matter how desperate the situation became—insisted it was not proper for a lady of her social class to learn something as plebian as driving her own conveyance.

  Besides, Diantha knew she would be terrified to drive a buggy by herself through fifteen miles of mountain wilderness with its dangerous animals, Utes who wandered off their reservation, and not to mention who knew how many road agents. Even if she hired someone to drive her, she would not feel safe with only one other person for company.

  The last thing Diantha wished to do was to be forced to close her hotel for four days so she could take the Wells Fargo stagecoach to Cranesville to conduct her banking. Once there, she would need to rent a room until she could ride the return stagecoach home on Saturday. She would prefer to bank in Curdy’s Crossing, but that was still six miles away—too far to be convenient.

  The sound of a knock on her outside door as she took her first bite of soft-boiled egg caused Diantha to flinch. Who could be outside this time of morning?

  With no window in the kitchen to look out of, and not wishing to go into the former dining room to see who stood at her kitchen door, Diantha cautiously unlocked and cracked the door open. Surprised, she saw standing outside a young, slender woman with reddish hair who appeared to be in her early twenties. She had seen the woman around town and thought she might be the daughter of one of the miner’s widows who had attended the mayor’s planning meetings. She opened the door another two inches. “Yes? May I help you?”

  The young woman clutched her hand-knit shawl more tightly around her shoulders and offered Diantha a nervous smile.

  “Good morning, ma’am. Hope I didn’t discomfit you none showing up on your stoop this early. I been up for a spell, but I know folks in town ain’t ones to be early risers. I ain’t sure we met yet, but my name’s Hilaina Dowd. I think you done met my ma, Elmira. She said you both go to them meetings with the mayor, plus she checks for our mail now and again. Anyway, I done heard from one of the men who stayed in the hotel last week…” A dreamy look came over the woman’s face, and her eyes lost their focus for a second. She recovered and once again looked directly at Diantha.

  Diantha fought back a grin as she opened the door even wider. Hilaina picked up her rambling where she had left off.

  “Well, I reckon you could say he done stayed here, seeing as how though he spent most his nights at the livery guarding horses, he come here to wash up and change clothes, and all. Anyway, he told me Mrs. Stillwell, who done your laundry for you before, was figuring on going with his boss back to some ranch where he works—his name is Buck, the man who told me all this. His full name is Buckley John Kramer, ain’t that a right smart name? Well, he done told me with Mrs. Stillwell leaving, maybe you’d be needing a new laundress…” Her voice caught as she stared at Diantha with a face full of concern. “I’ve been figuring you to be Mrs. Ames. I’m talking to the right person, ain’t I?”

  A wide smile on her face, Diantha pulled her door all the way open and gestured for Hilaina to enter. “Yes, I’m Mrs. Ames. Please, come in and join me for breakfast. It sounds like we have some business to discuss.” She watched Hilaina hesitantly step into the kitchen.

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am, but I don’t need no breakfast. I already done ate. I’d be pleased to talk to you about the laundry job, though.”

  Diantha reached for another teacup and saucer and placed them in front of Hilaina. “At least join me for some tea, Miss Dowd. It is miss, isn’t it? Do you take your tea with sugar?”

  “Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Hilaina stirred in a teaspoon of sugar. “I ain’t never been married. But I’d rather you called me Hilaina. That’s what I always been called. Well, I’ll allow Buck’s friend said it a different way. Said it was old-fashioned, something about Greeks and Romans.”

  Diantha thought a few seconds. “Helena?”

  “That’s pert near the way he said it.”

  “I believe it’s Greek in origin, just like my name, Diantha.”

  Confused, she looked at Diantha. “We both got Greek names? I figured my name to come from the Bible, but Ma said she nary read it there, just heard it somewhere and liked it. Ma says we’re mostly Scots-Irish, and a whole lot of too ornery to give up. I never knowed it was a Greek name, but I like it right fine.”

  Hilaina sipped from the cup. “This is right good tea. Ma and me, we mostly make tea from peppermint and other herbs we grow in our garden.” She leaned back and studied the china cup. “I ain’t never drunk tea out of nothing this fancy. We got blue enamel dishes at home. Nicer than plain tin, Ma always says. She was right proud when Pa bought it for her a few years back.” She eyed the partial loaf of bread and jar of apple butter with longing. “That apple butter? Been a spell since I ate some of that. If your offer’s still open and it won’t cut you short on food none, I’d take a thin slice of bread with apple butter, please.”
/>
  Amused by Hilaina’s homespun manner of speech, Diantha cut a slice of bread and slathered on some apple butter. She placed it on a small china plate and set it in front of Hilaina. “I’m happy to share with you, Hilaina. And, don’t worry about the china. It comes from the dishes my late husband bought for the hotel dining room when it was open. The enamelware like you described probably would have been more practical, but Mr. Ames dreamed of owning a first-rate hotel. Therefore, he refused to consider anything but china for our dining guests.”

  Diantha watched as Hilaina bit into the bread, closed her eyes, and softly hummed her appreciation. “Hilaina, have you ever washed laundry before?” She watched as Hilaina’s eyes popped open and the woman turned and stared at her as if she had just asked a stupid question. “I hope to shout, ma’am. Ain’t everyone? Ma saw to it I learned clothes washing early on when I was just a little mite. I been helping her for years, even when she took in laundry for miners before her back got all twisted up and she couldn’t do it no more.”

  Relief washed over Diantha. “Then you might be an answer to my prayers, Hilaina. The way I was raised, I never really learned how to properly wash laundry. That is why I hired Mrs. Stillwell. You heard correctly that I am in need of another laundress, at least, for now. You see, times have been difficult for the hotel, just like for most businesses in town. I didn’t pay Mrs. Stillwell much, because she took part of her wages in lodging. Do I assume correctly that you and your mother have your own home and plan to live there?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We live in one of them miner’s houses Mr. Crane rents out. We grow a lot of our own food—what can be growed this high in the mountains, that is. Ma raises chickens, plus got an old sow and four pigs she’s raised up to a size they need butchering right quick. Reckon you’d be an answer to prayers for us, even if you ain’t in no position to pay much. We still got rent to pay to Mr. Crane. He don’t take nothing in truck garden produce or even a couple of good hams. Cash money, he done told Ma, or he can put me to work for him. Only, I done heard what kind of work he’s wanting some of them women who owe him to take on, and Ma says it ain’t fitting for no Christian woman like me—well, we both are, only Mr. Crane ain’t interested in Ma doing no work like that for him.” Hilaina paused, and, uncertainty in her expression, looked at Diantha. “I been talking too much again, ain’t I? I’m right sorry, Mrs. Ames. Always been that way, but Ma says I best learn to hush, or I ain’t never going to get no man to marry me. I ain’t had no luck doing it yet, though. But, Mrs. Ames, if you can offer me fair pay that won’t leave you broke none, I’d be right proud to do the laundry job for you. I can clean rooms and make beds, if you got a mind for me to do that kind of work, too. Even Ma can help, long as it ain’t for so many hours her back starts giving her fits.”

  Hilaina bit the side of her bottom lip, as if forcing herself to stop talking while she waited for Diantha’s decision.

  “Why, Hilaina, I think that will work out perfectly. After last week, due to all the guests who came for the horse auction, I do have more funds than usual. I also have a large amount of laundry that needs to be washed.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I done peeked in the shed and saw a passel of sheets just waiting. I’d be right proud if you’d hire me to start on them today.”

  “Yes, I’ll be happy to, Hilaina. I still must change the linens from one more guest who plans to leave this morning, plus there are two long-term guests that need their room linens changed. I have enough extra sheets and towels to prepare both rooms for the renters who usually are away from the hotel during the daytime, but I need everything else washed, dried, the rooms cleaned, and all my beds made up within the next few days. I close the hotel between two and three o’clock, but for today and tomorrow, until it is time for me to lock up and leave, I would be delighted to hire both you and your mother to help me to clean and freshen the rooms. I want them ready for the next guests. Will you please ask her if she is interested in that kind of work?”

  Unable to hide her enthusiasm, Hilaina grinned wide and rose to her feet. “Yes, ma’am. Soon as Ma finishes her home chores, I reckon she’d be right proud to come help you for a spell, especially since you ain’t asking her to work no long hours. Today, she’s figuring on collecting her share of the widows’ money from the horse auction, so leaving here at two o’clock will suit her.” Hilaina paused and grew serious. “Mrs. Ames, I know it ain’t my place to go telling you your business, or nothing, but Ma ain’t planning on putting her money in Crane Bank. You know that lady, Mrs. Cavender, who works at the Crane Hotel? Well, maybe you don’t have nothing to do with her, seeing as how she’s working for a place that takes business away from you.”

  Diantha shook her head. “No, I consider Eleanora Cavender a friend. I don’t think less of her for working at the Crane Hotel. I believe Mr. Crane holds something over her head and has forced her into that job to work it off. At least it is decent employment, unlike what he offers to some other women.”

  “That’s the way Ma figures it, too. Anyway, Mrs. Cavender’s sister done come to town and now runs the Wells Fargo station.”

  Diantha blinked in surprise. “I do declare, that is quite forward-thinking of Wells Fargo. I know with so many of our men gone, Wildcat Ridge has placed many of our ladies in positions once held by men. However, for a nationwide company to do so is impressive.”

  “Yes, ma’am, only I ain’t so sure they knowed she’s a woman since she put in for the job. She done used her initials, not her full name. Reckon we best wait and see how that plays out. Right now, she’s got a big, strong safe in the Wells Fargo office, and she done started taking in deposits. Ma says Miss Hill’s got a good head for book-learning and knows her numbers, but mostly she’s honest. Ma figures her money’s safer there than in Mr. Crane’s bank where, if he’s got a mind to, he can get at it without a by-your-leave. Word around town is, he’s aiming to up and move everyone’s money to Cranesville.”

  As Hilaina paused to take a breath, Diantha pursed her lips and looked away to consider this new information. “Yes, I’d heard the same thing about Crane Bank. Perhaps, when I conduct my business this afternoon, I’ll walk over to the Wells Fargo office and meet the new manager.”

  “I best go if I’m to get these here sheets and such washed up for you, ma’am. I aim to fire up the outside stove and put the water on to boil, then go directly to talk to Ma. Knowing her, she’ll come see I’m doing the laundry right so I don’t leave no stains in. We’ll help you get this place looking right smart again.”

  “That’s wonderful, Hilaina. There’s one more thing I need from you.” Diantha paused, and then smiled when Hilaina looked at her with cautious anticipation. “I wish you to call me Diantha. We ladies with names from the Greek should be friends and on a first name basis.”

  Hilaina flushed and giggled with relief. “I’d be right proud to call you a friend, Diantha. I’ll be back directly.”

  “I look forward to seeing you and your mother later.”

  .

  .

  .

  .

  Chapter 3

  ~o0o~

  Mid-July, 1884

  D iantha studied the receipt she received from Grace at the Wells Fargo office a week earlier. She had been assured that a Wells Fargo agent would see to her draft paid to her as part of the death benefit engineered by the union attorney, Reed Shannon. The settlement against the Gold King Mine to help compensate for her financial loss due to the death of her husband had been deposited and her funds stored in the safe. She had stopped by earlier and been assured the matter had been taken care of.

  As for the situation at the Wells Fargo office, what a quandary! First, Grace was the manager. Then, according to rumors around town, once Wells Fargo found out their manager was a woman, they let her go and gave the position to one of the men who guarded the stagecoach. Unsure if the new manager intended to keep accounts at the office, and unwilling to turn her one hundred dollars over should the new man not
be reliable, Diantha had gone to check on her funds. She intended to withdraw her money and keep it hidden in the hotel, in spite of the risk of robbery. After hearing Grace was back “minding the station” while the new manager kept the stagecoach running, and she was managing the financial transactions for the company, Diantha decided to leave her money there.

  Diantha felt more confident with her money in the Wells Fargo safe than in Crane Bank. With the Wells Fargo stagecoach being the only means of scheduled transportation and mail in and out of Wildcat Ridge, that business would probably stay in Wildcat Ridge. On the other hand, the more Diantha heard tales of Mortimer Crane evicting people so he could move the buildings to Cranesville, the more likely it seemed to her he would soon move the deposits in the local bank he owned to his branch in Cranesville.

  With no one in her hotel lobby, Diantha took the opportunity to go into her private quarters and unlocked the desk drawer where Eugene stored his ledgers and business receipts. Fortunately, he had left the key at home the day he rushed off to help with the mine rescue. That simple act had saved her untold difficulty. She was able to open the desk without having to break the lock or the drawer. She had found everything in order, if not always to her liking or peace of mind. However, that day she refused to dwell on her discoveries.

  As Diantha locked the drawer once more and secured the key in the hidden pocket of her petticoat, she heard the front door to the hotel close. Neither of her two long-term boarders was due back to their rooms, so she assumed it was someone who had come to pick up their mail. She rushed out front.

  To hide her dismay at the sight of Mortimer Crane, she plastered as sincere a smile as she could muster onto her face as she stepped behind the hotel register counter. This was one man she definitely wished to keep at a counter’s width distance away. “Good afternoon, Mr. Crane. Your manager, Mr. Humphries, already picked up the mail for the bank on Wednesday. I have nothing else addressed to you or any of your other businesses.”