A Chance at Love

by Beverly Jenkins

  She heard the agent saying to the girls in exasperated tones, “I can’t sell you a ticket. You don’t have any money.”

  “But—” Bebe began. “We—”

  “Mornin’ girls.”

  The twins spun in unison at the sound of Loreli’s voice.

  The ticket agent asked Loreli with what sounded like relief, “Are these two yours?”

  Loreli nodded, her censuring eyes focused on the girls. “I’ll take it from here, sir. Thanks.”

  He rose to his feet, and gushed gratefully, “No, thank you,” then he hustled away.

  Both girls looked very guilty.

  Loreli asked coolly. “What are you two doing here?”

  Silence.

  Finally Bebe said, “We’re going to find a mama.”

  “Where’s your uncle?”

  Dede offered meekly, “At home.”

  “And what do you think he’s doing right now?”

  Neither girl offered an answer, so Loreli did. “Probably searching the countryside, worried sick.”

  Twin heads dropped.

  “You should be ashamed. Now hustle your little selves over to that stack of trunks while I find a hack.” She then added a warning, “And ladies, if you disappear on me—pray your uncle finds you before I do.”

  Loreli waited until they were standing beside her trunks before she strode off to find someone to take them all back to town. The twins needed a mama all right—one with a switch in her hand.

  The hack driver who’d initially ferried Loreli to the train depot had been awaiting a return fare, so he was more than happy to take her and the girls back to town. He reloaded her trunks, valises and hat boxes, and after tying the reins of Bebe’s mare, Phoebe, to the back of the hack, finally got them underway.

  Due to the space taken up by all of Loreli’s luggage, Dede had to sit on Loreli’s lap. Bebe was squeezed in beside them. Loreli could see the furtive glances the girls kept sending her way when they thought she wasn’t looking, but for the first little while Loreli didn’t say anything, mainly because she didn’t know what to say. How do you relay to two eight-year-olds the anguish they were undoubtedly causing their uncle by running away, but then again, how do you explain to an adult how much a mama means when you don’t have one? “You know girls, I grew up without my mama too.”

  They looked surprised.

  Dede asked, “What happened to her?”

  “She died in a fire.”

  There was silence for a moment, then Bebe asked, “How old were you?”

  “Three.”

  “We were seven.”

  Loreli looked down at them. “You miss your mama a lot, don’t you?”

  Both girls nodded solemnly, then Bebe added, “We have her picture, and we say hello to her every night in our prayers.”

  “That’s a good thing. I don’t have a picture. In fact, I don’t even remember what she looked like. I was too young when she died, I guess.”

  There was silence again, then Loreli said, “Your uncle loves you both very much, and your running away is scaring him to death.”

  Both girls looked ashamed again, and Loreli told them softly. “I know you’re not trying to scare him on purpose, but promise me you’ll never do this again. Ever.”

  Both girls met her eyes.

  “Promise me.”

  Dede was the first to break down, and said quietly, “I promise.”

  Loreli looked to Bebe. “Be? Promise me.”

  Bebe audibly sighed her surrender, then offered up grudgingly, “I promise too. We don’t want Uncle Jake to be scared.”

  “Thank you,” Loreli said, giving them a hug. She then bestowed a rewarding kiss on each smooth brown brow. “Your uncle shouldn’t have to go to sleep every night worrying if you two will be in your beds when the sun comes up,” she added gently. “I know it’s hard being without your mother, but she’s with you in your hearts. Always will be.”

  Loreli realized that her father had often comforted his own motherless child with the same words. In the end, Loreli had survived and they would too. The fact that their uncle provided a stable home was also in their favor. She’d never had that.

  Once they returned to town, Loreli had the driver stop at the sheriff’s office. She wanted to see if Jake Reed had reported his nieces missing. He had. In fact, when she and the girls entered, he was inside talking to the sheriff.

  Loreli could see the worry drop from Reed’s features when he saw the girls. The worry was replaced by sternness. “Where were you?”

  Loreli answered. “I found them at the station.”

  His eyes widened as he scanned their faces “At the train station?”

  Bebe nodded. “The agent wouldn’t sell us a ticket, though.”

  Dede explained: “He said we needed some money.”

  Jake’s head dropped and he chuckled in spite of his earlier worry. “Where were you going, girls?”

  Loreli cracked. “Without any coin? Nowhere.” She could sense the sheriff evaluating her, taking in her expensive traveling costume and feather-tipped hat. She knew from experience that he was trying to determine if she were street woman, confidence woman, or both, so she said to him, “Mornin’, Sheriff. Name’s Loreli Winters.”

  He nodded. “Morning, Miss Winters. I’m Sheriff Walter Mack. Thanks for your help.” Mack was tall, White, and appeared to be in his late fifties, early sixties.

  Jake Reed met her eyes, and Loreli swore he looked no more pleased to see her than he’d been yesterday. “Yes, thank you.” He then turned back to his nieces. “You girls have to promise me you’ll never do this again.”

  Dede confessed, “We already promised Loreli.”

  He looked surprised.

  Bebe added, “She said our running away scares you to death.”

  His lip tightened beneath his mustache. “She’s right.”

  “Loreli’s mama got burned up in a fire when she was three,” Dede said, “but she doesn’t have a picture of her mama like we do.”

  Loreli, feeling the sympathy in Dede’s words, smiled. “And that makes you girls very lucky.”

  Jake took in the fancy-dressed Miss Winters and had to admit, he hadn’t expected that she of all people would understood how the girls must be feeling about losing their mother. Even though she appeared to be of questionable character, he was grateful. “I appreciate you bringing them back.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Ready to go home?” Jake asked the twins.

  They nodded.

  First though, both girls gave Loreli a strong hug. Bebe whispered emotionally against Loreli’s waist, “I wish you could be our mama.”

  Loreli, gently holding them both, replied truthfully, “I do too.” Loreli knew Jake Reed was watching, but she ignored him. She bent down and looked Bebe and Dede in the eyes. “Now, remember what I said about your mother. Okay?”

  The girls nodded.

  “And no more running away—you promised. A woman always keeps her word.”

  They nodded once more.

  Loreli stood. The girls looked as sad as she felt.

  Jake Reed wondered how she’d been able to establish such a rapport with the twins in so short a time. “All right,” he said to them, “let’s head home.”

  The girls offered Loreli a departing wave, then were gone.

  After their exit, Loreli turned to leave too, but the sheriff’s voice stopped her. “You wanted anywhere, Miss Winters?”

  Loreli had been expecting the question. She turned back and drawled saucily, “Sheriff, I’m wanted everywhere—but not by the law. Thanks for asking, though.”

  He smiled, just as she knew he would. She threw him a wink, then exited back out onto the street.

  Playing the Good Samaritan had caused Loreli to miss her train, so now she would have to cool her heels until the next train on Friday. The hack driver had waited, so she had him drive her back to the boardinghouse she’d checked out of earlier in the day. On the way sh
e surveyed the town. It was small by anyone’s standards: one general store, a milliner’s shop, a bank, a livery. A sign on the front of one building read: TAYLOR’s UNDERTAKING—Telegraph and Post Office. She assumed there was also a saloon somewhere, more than likely outside of town, because most communities had at least one nearby. In all, there were about ten buildings connected by a weathered plank walk that kept the citizens from having to slosh through the muddy street when it rained.

  Loreli asked the driver. “This town have a name?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We call it Hanks.”

  “Hanks?”

  “Yes. It’s named that for the soldier who started the town.”

  “I see.” At least she now knew where she was.

  The boardinghouse was situated only a short distance from town set among a small group of houses. The proprietor, a gnarled, old brown-skinned woman named Mrs. Boyd, took the paying guest back happily. “You want the same room, Miss Winters?”

  “Sure.”

  “How in the world did you miss the train?”

  “Business,” was all Loreli would say. She doubted Reed wanted his news spread all over Hanks.

  “Well, welcome back. I’ll have my son take those trunks and things around to your room.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Boyd.”

  With that bit of business transacted, Loreli went back to the room. By dusk, she was bored. Wondering if she could at least horn in on a card game, she walked down to the sheriff’s office.

  When he looked up from his desk and saw her, he smiled. “Well, hello there, Miss Winters. What can I do for you?”

  “Where can I find a good poker game?”

  He went still for a moment. “Poker?”

  “Yes, you know, the card game?”

  He looked her up and down, then asked, “You’re a gambler, then?”

  “All my life.”

  He shook his head with wonder. “Never played cards with a woman before, but I consider myself pretty good.”

  “Well, that’s two for the table. You know anyone else?”

  A grin creased his sun-weathered face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir, I am. Haven’t played in so long my hands are starting to itch.”

  He laughed. “Why’d you come to me?”

  “Because lawmen always know where the best games are.”

  Chuckling, he nodded in agreement. “That we do. That we do. Tell you what. I’m on duty tonight, so we can play here. Give me an hour to rustle up my usual pigeons, and then come on back.”

  It was Loreli’s turn to grin. “You’ve got a deal.”

  In an hour Loreli returned dressed in a beautiful indigo gown and smelling good. The sheriff introduced her to his friends: general-store owner, Bert Green; rancher, Howard Burke; and the skeptical-looking banker, Sol Diggs.

  Diggs declared, “I don’t play with women.”

  Loreli flashed him a winning smile, “Neither do I.”

  The rest of the men laughed. Diggs, caught off guard by Loreli’s golden charm and beauty, surrendered.

  By the end of the third hand, the men knew Loreli was no rube. Her skill with the cards far exceeded their own. She played shrewdly, decisively, and bluffed better than anyone they’d ever sat down with before. Each man sensed she could’ve wiped the floor with them, but she kept the blood-letting to a minimum.

  An hour later, as the men folded and Loreli raked in another pot, the sheriff said, “Loreli, I’m real glad you insisted on playing for pennies.”

  “Me too,” Diggs admitted reluctantly, “otherwise, you’d own my bank by now.”

  The rotund dark-skinned Bert Green added, “And my store.”

  They were distracted by the door opening. Loreli, in the midst of raking in her pile of pennies, glanced up to see Jake Reed walk in. When her eyes met his, his registered surprise, then, as he saw the cards, disapproval. Loreli found the judgment irritating. Determined to ignore him from then on, she went back to gathering her coins.

  Sheriff Mack asked, “What brings you in, Jake? Those girls aren’t gone again, are they?”

  Reed shook his head, “No. Came to tell Bert his mare’s finally foaled. It’s a filly.”

  Bert Green smiled broadly. “Why, that’s good news. The mare doing okay?”

  “Just fine. I’ll drop my bill by the store in the morning.”

  “All right.” Then Bert asked, “Do you know Miss Loreli?”

  “We’ve met.” His eyes were frosty; his tone, no warmer.

  Loreli wondered how such a stiff-necked man ever hoped to raise two spirited little girls. “Evenin’, Mr. Reed.”

  He nodded. “Miss Winters.”

  “You want to sit in a few hands?” Howard Burke asked Jake. “Maybe you can stop her from winning the whole town. She’s already won the bank, my ranch, and Bert’s store.”

  “I can’t. Rebecca’s watching the girls until I get back.”

  Sol Diggs, the banker, asked, “When are you going to marry that woman, doc? Everyone’s waiting, you know. Woman like that will keep you away from all that union nonsense.”

  Loreli watched Reed’s eyes go cold. She wondered what kind of union nonsense the banker had been referring to. She thought Reed was a Black Republican.

  Reed’s voice mirrored the chill in his eyes. “Any woman I marry will have to put up with my union nonsense, Sol, just as you will before we’re done.”

  The tension in the air rose. Loreli got the impression that Reed and the banker didn’t agree on whatever this union issue revolved around.

  Sheriff Mack intervened. “Gentlemen, we’re here for a friendly game, not political fisticuffs.”

  Neither man said anything else, but it was clear that their disagreement would continue. In an attempt to defuse the situation, Loreli cut in. “Gentlemen, shall we play another hand, or call it a night?”

  Howard Burke pushed his chair back from the table. “I have to get home. Promised my wife I wouldn’t be out real late.”

  The others offered up similar pledges, so the game came to an end. Loreli placed the cards back in her handbag and stood. Still ignoring Reed, she said, “Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure. I’ll be here until Friday morning. If you get together again, I’ll be hurt if I’m not included.”

  The sheriff cracked humorously, “And our pockets will be hurt if we do, but don’t worry. We’ll let you know.”

  “Where are you staying, Miss Winters?” Howard Burke asked.

  “With Mrs. Boyd.”

  “Then I’d be honored if you’d let me escort you back.”

  Loreli was just about to take him up on the offer when Jake Reed declared, “I’ll walk her back, Howard. I’m headed that way.”

  Loreli found his offer surprising to say the least, but she sensed it had little to do with concerns for her safety.

  Burke looked disappointed, but nodded a gentlemanly surrender. “If you insist. No lady should be walking alone at night.” Burke turned to the sheriff and added, “No offense to how you do your job, Walt.”

  The sheriff replied, “None taken.”

  Loreli didn’t really want Jake Reed escorting her anywhere, but could hardly say that now. It was only a short walk, though. What could happen?

  Loreli grabbed her indigo silk shawl and spread it lightly around her bare shoulders. “I’m ready, Mr. Reed.”

  He opened the door with a politeness she knew he didn’t feel. Loreli turned to the other men. “Thanks for a fine evening, gentlemen.”

  They offered their good-byes, and a moment later, she and Jake Reed were walking together in the silent night. After they’d taken a few steps, he said, “He’s married, you know.”

  “Who?”

  “Howard Burke.”

  “Oh. Is that why you butted in?”

  Jake’s lips tightened.

  “Did you think I was going to lure him into an alley and take his wallet or just throw him to the ground and make him renounce his marriage vows?” She looked ove
r at his granite features. “Never mind. I already know the answer.”

  Jake wasn’t accustomed to being put in his place by such a blunt-talking woman. She was right, however. He had thought she might take advantage of Howard Burke. Burke was a good man, but his weakness for flashy, younger women was well known. “Play cards with men often?”

  “All the time,” she replied without shame. “It’s how I make my living.”

  He stopped. “You’re a gambler?”

  Loreli looked into that handsome face and chuckled sarcastically, “No, I’m a minister’s wife.” She began walking again. “Yes, I’m a gambler, an occupation I’m sure you don’t approve of.”

  “That’s not for me to judge,” he replied emotionlessly.

  Loreli laughed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Your face twisted up like a child drinking vinegar when you walked in and saw me sitting at that table.”

  Jake knew she was right. It had bothered him; it still did. “Just had no idea I’d find you there.”

  “Especially with a deck of cards in my hand.”

  Jake didn’t answer.

  Loreli let that go, then took note of all the businesses that had closed down now that night had fallen. “This place shuts down pretty early.”

  “Saloon’s open until midnight.”

  She refused to be baited. “No thanks. Guess I’ve forgotten how provincial small towns can be.”

  “Where were you born?”

  “Kentucky.”

  “Slave or free?”

  “Slave.” Loreli wasn’t ashamed of her past. Like the other three million captives held before the war, she’d had no say in her birth. She glanced his way. “You? Where were you born?”