Hattie

by Vivi Holt

  Ed’s eyes sparked with humor. “Yes, well … it must have been entertaining.”

  “It was,” she gushed, then laughed again. “Though I’m not sure Broadway will be calling.”

  He tipped his hat back. “Not likely. Just as well I have a job already, I suppose.”

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Famished.”

  They fixed themselves two plates of bread rolls, salt pork, beans, turkey and dressing, then sat on a nearby unoccupied picnic rug. As they ate, Ed shared more about his family back in Virginia, how he’d always wanted to be a teacher, but when he’d traveled west he couldn’t seem to stop moving. He loved the adventure of it and always wondered what he might find further on. He’d kept going until he reached the Pacific coast, then turned back and settled in Coloma.

  “They needed a sheriff then, not a teacher, so that’s what I became. I wasn’t sure I’d like it, but it’s turned out fine. I can help people just as much as if I was a teacher. And the town’s become home to me.”

  Hattie could testify to that. While they sat there, everyone who walked by greeted Ed with a smile and asked him how he was doing. For the most part, people seemed to view him with great esteem and affection, and she admired him all the more because of it.

  When he finally took her home after the celebration, he did so like a perfect gentleman. She was disappointed he didn’t try to kiss her. Her lips tingled as her eyes met his. But it was her own fault for pushing him away the last time. He didn’t know where he stood with her because she wasn’t sure either. In her head she knew she shouldn’t start anything with a man she’d likely never see again once she left Coloma.

  But Hattie couldn’t help wishing for one more kiss; to have Ed hold her in his arms and never let go.

  Chapter 7

  Hattie flapped the wet shirt in the air in an effort to smooth out the wrinkles, then hung it over the line of string that ran between two sticks set in the ground. Her bonnet slipping over her eyes, she tugged a peg from between her teeth and clamped it on the shirt to hold it in place.

  Daisy pegged a petticoat to the line beside her and laughed. “Hain’t ye ever done this before? That shirt looks like a blind man threw it at the line.”

  Hattie rolled her eyes and tossed a wet pair of drawers at Daisy, hitting her in the face. She peeled them off with a guffaw and pegged them to the line.

  Still melancholy over the way things ended with Ed after the play, Hattie sighed and let her shoulders slump while she worked.

  “What’s wrong with ye, princess?” asked Daisy, taking a huge bite of a roll she pulled from her apron pocket. She chewed slowly, her narrowed eyes fixed on Hattie.

  “If I was to go back east, would you come with me?” blurted Hattie.

  Daisy’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “I want you to come with me.” Hattie pegged another shirt to the line, then smoothed a strand of hair from her eyes.

  Daisy laughed, but this time the sound was strained. “What would I do, sleep on the settee in the drawing room? I’m sure your Pa would love ye bringin’ a girl like me home.”

  “I don’t know – I just can’t leave you here, not with things the way they are. And I’m leaving as soon as I can.”

  “What about the sheriff?

  Tears pricked Hattie’s eyes, but she brushed them away with a swipe of her hand. “It’s no use. I’m married, and he’s … well, he’s here. And I don’t want to be – here, that is.” The words fell awkwardly from her mouth.

  There was a shout and Hattie spun around to see a wagon trundling by on the road into town, packed to the brim with children of all ages. The noise seemed to have come from a scuffle between several of them. Two sleek bay horses trotted in the traces, and she could see the sheriff’s black hat behind them. He hunched over the reins, facing forward and ignoring the commotion in the wagon bed. “What’s going on there?” she asked.

  Daisy stepped forward to stand beside her, still chewing on the bread. “What, the wagon? Looks like another bunch of the sheriff’s orphans.” Her lips smacking, she took another large bite.

  Hattie eyed her in confusion. “He has orphans?”

  Daisy grinned. “He collects ‘em from all ‘round the county, brings ‘em back and finds families to take ‘em in. Any left, he sends on to San Francisco to the orphan asylum. A lot of ‘em lost their families on the drive west, others when they arrived. Either way, they’re on their own. Sheriff Milton likes to find them somewhere to go.”

  Hattie’s eyes widened. This was a side to Ed she hadn’t seen before. He was rugged and strong and she’d witnessed how people around town respected him, but ferrying a wagonful of rowdy orphans into town? He was full of surprises. “Where do they stay until he can find them a family?”

  “I think the sheriff’s office. He usually collects ‘em when the jail cells are empty and things are quiet. Feeds ‘em all out of his own pocket, he does. He’s a good man, our sheriff.”

  Hattie’s throat ached. She’d never met a man like Ed Milton before. Back in New York, every man she knew was only interested in money, power and status. In her circle of acquaintances, it would have been unheard of for a man to take his own time and money, gather orphans together and feed them.

  She smoothed her hair out of her eyes as the wagon disappeared behind the tall facade of the mercantile, headed for the sheriff’s office. He’d make someone a fine husband and a good father to his children one day, that much was clear. She’d misjudged him so many times, and hadn’t truly given him a chance.

  “What’re ye thinkin’ about so serious over there?” asked Daisy with a smirk as she tucked the now-empty clothes basket beneath her arm.

  Hattie picked up her own basket and sighed. “Just wishing I’d had the good sense not to marry that cad Jack Miller. Now I’m tied to him and … oh, why is everything always so complicated?”

  The two women walked toward the back door of the saloon, side by side. “Ye know,” began Daisy, shifting the basket onto her other hip. “Old Man Hurley was in yesterday, and I told him about your predicament.”

  “You mean the retired lawyer from Boston?”

  “Aye, that’s the one. Well, he said since ye never really were with your husband – ye know, as man and wife – ye could get this thing called an annulment. Like ye were never actually married. They could do it down at the courthouse.”

  Hattie pulled the door open, following Daisy into the steamy kitchen as her stomach churned. “Really? Is that possible?”

  “He seemed to think it was. And it can’t hurt to find out, can it?”

  Hattie’s head spun. Could it be so easy? She’d go to the courthouse as soon as possible to ask about it. Perhaps she’d soon only remember all that had happened as if it were a bad dream, to be left in the past.

  She hurried into the laundry room and set the empty basket on the floor. Too bad she had so much work to do before lunch, or she’d go right now. Never mind – tomorrow she’d have a chance. Mrs. Patterson always sent her to the mercantile on Tuesdays with a list of groceries – she’d stop by the courthouse then.

  Hans and Lee were backed against the front wall of the sheriff’s office, their wide eyes drifting over a sea of dirty faces. Ed grinned. His deputies had never gotten used to him gathering orphans when the jail cells were empty and letting them stay there until he could place them with families.

  Hans went out the front door and lit up his pipe. Lee squatted beside a small boy struggling to bite off a piece of the bread Ed had given him. He smiled and took out his pocket knife to cut the bread into pieces for him. At first the boy looked terrified by the knife, but soon Lee had him smiling and even offered him the knife to take a look, showing him how to hold it carefully. The boy turned it over with eyes as round as saucers as he chewed on the bread.

  Ed handed out the last piece of bread to the tallest girl in the group. She took it with a grateful smile and dip of the head. His heart went out to the poor mites. T
hey’d lost everything. Most of them had come west with their folks, some with brothers and sisters, and now they were on their own. Some still had their siblings, but others had no one. And for people out here, life was a constant struggle, so taking in another mouth to feed wasn’t a priority. Without his help, most of them would likely starve or be taken by wild animals.

  Ed stepped carefully between the rows of warm bodies as he made his way to the door. “Hey, Lee, I’m headin’ out for a bit. Can you watch ‘em for me?”

  Lee stood up, looking panicked. “What? Going where?”

  “Just up to the saloon for a bit. You’ll be great with ‘em.” Ed chuckled and put his hat on as he stood in the doorway surveying the packed room.

  “What do I do with all these niños?” asked Lee. The swarthy deputy was surrounded by children, their dirt-streaked faces turned up to him like flowers drawn to the warmth of the sun.

  “Play a game or somethin’,” said Ed. “Little’uns love games.” He turned and set off down the street, ignoring Lee’s calls after him. It’d be good for his deputy to spend some time with the children. He was always saying he wished he could find a woman, settle down and have a family – this was his chance to get a taste of it. Of course, he might well change his tune after an hour or so. Ed chuckled to himself at the thought of it.

  He entered the saloon hoping to see Hattie, though after the way she’d left things between them, he wasn’t entirely certain she’d want to see him. He’d been determined to keep his distance – after all, when he’d kissed her, she’d pushed him away. But then he’d seen her at the play, and he could’ve sworn there was a spark of attraction between them. And after bringing the children back to town, all he wanted to do was see her. He couldn’t get his mind to focus on anything else. He leaned against the bar, ordered a finger of whiskey from Sally, tipped his hat back and waited.

  It wasn’t long before she shuffled in with a mop and bucket. The handle of the mop kept knocking her in the head as she pushed the bucket full of sudsy water forward with her feet. He covered his mouth with his hand, coughing to mask his mirth.

  There was something so intriguing, innocent and delightful about Hattie Stout. He’d never met a woman who made him feel this way before. She could be infuriating, yet gentle as a lamb. He never knew what she’d say or do from one moment to the next. Probably because he’d never met a debutante from New York City before – she certainly stood out like a sore thumb in this worn-out mining town.

  He downed the last of the whiskey, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, stood and headed toward her. “Hattie …” He didn’t know what to say next.

  She turned to him with a warm smile that lit up her sparkling hazel eyes. “Ed! How nice to see you. I was wondering when you’d stop by.”

  He paused and scratched the side of his beard with his fingertips. “Uh … yeah. Well, I’ve been busy.”

  Her tinkling laugh turned his legs to jelly. “So I hear. What a wonderful thing you’re doing, taking care of those children. There aren’t many who would, that’s for sure.” As she spoke, she rested her hand on his forearm and sent a spark of heat running through his body.

  “Yes, well… I think it’s the least I can do. I hate to think of them out there all alone in the wild.”

  He stared down at her hand. Long, delicate fingers resting on his shirt sleeve. “Would you like to take a walk?”

  She nodded and set the mop and bucket behind the bar, then took his arm and walked out to the street with him. “I can’t be long. Sally wants me to mop the floor until it ‘dang shines,’ her words. Though I don’t know if that floor could ever shine again, even if I took a scrub brush to it on my knees. But as Daisy says, what Sally wants, Sally gets.”

  He set his hand on hers and relished the feel of her soft skin beneath his palm. He drank in her beauty and the blush of her cheeks. “You seem in a fine mood.”

  “I am.”

  He raised an eyebrow as they strolled down the street. “Any hints as to why?”

  “I don’t want to say too much just yet, since I’m not certain … but I see a light at the end of the dark tunnel I’ve been journeying through. I promise, I’ll tell you all about it very soon.”

  He smiled. “Well then, I’ll hold you to it.”

  “You may indeed.” Her eyes twinkled and she sighed. “Things are starting to look brighter.”

  What was she referring to? It was possible she’d saved enough for her fare back to New York. Or maybe it was something else. If only she’d tell him – he could hardly bear the wait. “When do you think you’ll be ready to share your news?”

  “Oh, in a few days, I believe.”

  “So if I call on you again in three days …”

  “Why three days?” She pursed her lips.

  “I’m aimin’ to get the orphans settled by then.”

  She smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

  They turned around and headed back to the saloon. The afternoon sun burned bright overhead, and Ed could feel it scorching his black hat, making his head sweat. A trickle of damp meandered down his back and he stopped at the entrance to the saloon. “I’ll see you in three days, then,” he said, cupping her hand between his.

  Her cheeks flamed brighter. “Yes, until then,” she replied, her voice almost a whisper.

  He doffed his hat leaned over her, her lips enticing him, drawing him in. She closed her eyes and lifted her chin. When their lips met, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his days with her wrapped in his arms.

  She stepped back, her eyes flicking open, and grinned. “Goodbye, Ed.”

  As he strode back to the office, his smile broadened until it almost split his face in two. It was a fine day. A very fine day indeed.

  Chapter 8

  Hattie ran her brush through her hair which snapped and sparked beneath her hand. She set the brush on the dressing table and gazed at her reflection in the looking glass, the flame of the candle on the table beside her flickering. She picked up the candle holder and carried it to her bedside table.

  It had been a long day – she’d scrubbed, scoured, washed and fetched until she was bone-tired. Sally was occasionally motivated to get the saloon in shape, and today had been one of those days. The rest of the time she seemed not to care whether it slid into a pit of filth. But today she’d wanted everything to sparkle and Hattie was the one to do it. She sighed and sat down on the bed with relief.

  Just then, she heard a muffled shout, followed by a loud crash and a scream. She jumped up and ran to the door, flinging it open and looking up and down the long dark hallway. She wished Coloma had electric lights like more developed cities around the country. Edison’s light bulb had amazed her the first time she saw one, and had made everyone’s lives so much more civilized. But Coloma wasn’t New York City.

  She ran back to get the candle, guarding the flame with her hand as she rushed out again and down the hall. The awful noise continued, beckoning her onward. When it stopped, she halted her headlong pace to listen intently. She heard a noise through a nearby closed door – a sobbing that tore at her heart.

  She knocked on the door. When there was no response, she turned the handle and pushed it open. “Hello? It’s Hattie, I just wanted to check on you, make sure you’re all right. Hello?” The sobbing was louder now. Then she saw a man standing by a mussed bed, buckling a holster around his narrow hips, and gasped. “Hans?”

  Deputy Hans Bergman came toward her, his badge flashing in the light from the lantern that hung by the door. He stood so close that she could smell the tobacco and whisky on his breath, and sneered, revealing stained teeth. “Hullo, Hattie.” His voice was a growl, like gravel beneath the wheel of a wagon.

  She reeled back, her hand covering her mouth. “Hans, what in Heaven’s name are you up to? I’ll speak to Ed about you …”

  “I think it best ya mind yer own business, else I can’t be sure I can protect you, if ya know what I’m gettin’ at.” He glowered and raised a hand as t
hough to hit her, lowered it to his side and glanced over his shoulder toward the corner of the room. Then he dashed past her out the door and down the stairs to the saloon.

  Hattie leaned back against the open door with a sigh of relief. Then she ventured into the corner of the room where the sobbing came from, and all relief fled. “Daisy!” She ran to her friend’s side and knelt beside her, setting the candle on the floor. Already she could see the bruises emerging on Daisy’s pale cheeks and around her left eye. Her arms were reddened with ugly welts in the shape of long fingers and her nightgown was torn and bunched up around her waist. “Oh no! Are you all right, my dear Daisy?”

  Daisy couldn’t speak, only weep and whimper.

  Hattie’s throat closed around a lump as her eyes flooded with tears. She helped her friend to her feet with a gentle hand beneath her elbow. “Come on, dear, back to our room.”

  Daisy hobbled with Hattie’s help back to their bedroom. Hattie helped her into bed, filled the washbowl from the jug of water and used a washcloth to dab at Daisy’s bruises. “I’m sorry it’s cold,” she murmured, smoothing Daisy’s hair back.

  Daisy hiccupped softly, her cheeks streaked with tears.

  Hattie’s sorrow was quickly replaced with burning anger. “You can’t keep doing this, Daisy! It’s not right. There has to be another way.” She choked back a sob of her own and set the washcloth back in the bowl.

  Daisy met her gaze with reddened eyes. “What else can I do? I ain’t got a family. I ain’t got a place to go. This is it for me.” She buried her face in her hands and burst into fresh tears.

  Hattie sighed deeply. She didn’t know what to say. If only she had money, she’d get Daisy far away from the Roan Horse. But she couldn’t even rescue herself. “Well, I’m going to talk with Sally tomorrow. She must not be aware that this is going on. Maybe she’ll let you do something else – you could work in the kitchen with me, couldn’t you?” That was it – she just knew Sally would see reason.