by Sue Lyndon
“Yes, that’s exactly it. I’ve been staying with the Gerrards, but I cannot live with them forever. Mrs. Gerrard is insisting I meet as many men in town as I can and marry soon. Honestly, I think she wants to get rid of me. She takes me on walks almost every day, telling me to put on my Sunday best and look pretty.”
Her eyes widened after she realized just how freely she’d spoken, but Lawrence’s gaze remained trained on her. He didn’t appear taken aback by anything she’d just said, even though she’d basically admitted that her reason for meeting him today was because she was in desperate need of a husband.
*
“Tell me about your husband. What was he like?” Lawrence asked, hoping to change the topic from marriage. His heart ached, knowing that he would disappoint Callie when he returned to his cabin soon. He shouldn’t have asked her to meet him here today, but he couldn’t say he was sorry for it either. With her beauty, her soft spoken manner, and those adorable blushes she kept displaying, he thought her to be the real treasure of this mining town.
“Well, his family lived near mine, but they did not get along. You see, his family is fiercely outspoken against slavery, and my family owned slaves. Matthew was kind to me though, despite where I came from. I met him during my hometown’s May Day celebrations one year, when we were both ten years old. We used to sneak off to meet each other as children, always careful to make sure our parents didn’t discover us, but as we grew older, our relationship changed.” She grasped a tall blade of grass, pulled it from the ground, and twirled it in her hand. “He was a good man and I miss him, but I thank God for the time we had together, however brief it was.”
Her words stunned him. For several moments, he could only stare at her and wonder how she could sit there and thank God, despite having lost her childhood sweetheart and husband. He felt as if the wind had been knocked from his chest. He gulped and took a series of slow breaths.
“Lawrence? Are you unwell?” Concern was written all over Callie’s face. She gave him a brief but encouraging smile. “Well, go on. It’s your turn. Tell me about your wife.”
The world seemed to spin around him. Lawrence felt dizzy, despite the fact that he was sitting down. His palms suddenly hurt, and he glanced down to see he’d clenched his hands into tight fists. He relaxed his hands and reached for a long strand of grass, plucked it from the ground, and twirled it between his fingers, mimicking Callie’s action. Another deep, slow breath, and he finally felt calm enough to speak.
“My wife, Mary, was a quiet and terribly shy woman. The first few times I met her, she stuttered so badly that I didn’t understand her. But she intrigued me. I knew she wasn’t dull and saw the intelligence glimmering in her eyes, and it wasn’t long before I set out to court her. We had three years of marriage together before she passed away during childbirth.” Strangely, his chest didn’t ache as hard as it usually did when he thought of Mary. The only time he’d spoken of her since arriving in Culpepper had been the time he’d gotten drunk at the saloon. That had been different.
“And you came here right away after that happened?” Sympathy shone in Callie’s eyes, and she reached as if to touch his shoulder, then retracted her hand and sat awkwardly across from him, as if she wished to comfort him but didn’t know if it was appropriate. They had just met, after all.
“Yes. I stayed only long enough for the funeral, then I packed a bag and headed for the coast. When I heard a ship was leaving for California soon, I booked passage and eventually ended up here in Culpepper. I saw ads for the claims here while I was staying in San Francisco. Well, I saw ads for claims in many different places, but I picked Culpepper for its isolation and small population.”
“Then you struck it rich very soon after arriving, is that correct?” Callie looked alarmed for a second and her gaze briefly darted away from Lawrence, before she returned her stare to him and gave him a sheepish grin. “Apologies if I seem to be prying. It’s just that Mrs. Gerrard mentioned your name to me the other day. Before we met in the mercantile. I was only curious if the rumors about you were true.”
Lawrence smiled at her in hopes of relieving her tension, and it seemed to work, because her shoulders relaxed and she stopped twirling the blade of grass wildly between her fingers. “It’s true that I struck it rich only a week after arriving at my claim. Then I had the cabin built on my claim and I’ve been hiding out there, only coming to town when I need supplies. But…” He paused for a moment. “I wasn’t terribly short on supplies this time. I came because I was lonely.”
“Perhaps that’s a good sign, Lawrence. Perhaps God is moving you in a new direction. Surely, you aren’t meant to hide out on a mountain for the rest of your life, all by yourself. I’m not saying you should move into town and become the preacher, not if you don’t feel moved to do so, but you shouldn’t be alone.” She blinked back a sheen of moisture that had formed in her eyes. “I stayed in the shack on our claim for about two weeks after Matthew died. It was terrible, being alone. When the Gerrards offered to take me in and allow me to live with them in Culpepper, I was overjoyed.”
Lawrence frowned when he recalled the scornful look Mrs. Gerrard had given him in the mercantile, along with her little judgmental speech. “Do the Gerrards treat you kindly, Callie?”
When she hesitated to answer, his heart sank.
“Callie?”
She started blinking quickly again, and after gulping hard, she said, “Of course they treat me kindly. No one else in town offered to take me in. They are good people, I assure you.”
He didn’t believe her, but he didn’t tell her so. Instead, he eyed the sky and noticed dark clouds forming overhead. “It appears it’s going to rain soon. May I walk you home?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”
***
Three weeks had passed since Callie’s encounter with Lawrence Black. She laid in her bed, snuggled under the quilts, and replayed their picnic conversation over and over in her mind.
Lord, he was handsome. Those dark eyes of his made her heart go pitter patter. None of the men in town that Mrs. Gerrard had introduced her to had caught her fancy in the slightest. But Mr. Black—no, Lawrence, he’d told her to call him by his given name—left her feeling flushed and all tingly inside. He’d given her the sort of delicious jitters she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Not since Matthew.
Instead of experiencing a pang of sadness at the thought of her late husband, a sense of hope rushed through her. Even if she never met Lawrence again, at least she knew it was possible to feel an attraction to another man.
If only Mrs. Gerrard hadn’t recently increased the pressure on her to marry. Though Callie helped out around the house, tended the garden, and even did much of the cooking herself, she suspected she’d worn out her welcome. Perhaps Mrs. Gerrard wanted her days to herself. Callie couldn’t fault the woman. This was her home, after all.
She sat up to snuff out her lantern, but the creaking of her bedroom door opening drew her attention. She tugged the top quilt up to her neck, her heart pounding. Neither of the Gerrards were normally awake at this late hour. Was something wrong?
A man crept into her bedroom and shut the door behind him. Before he turned around, she recognized Mr. Gerrard by his shoulder-length white hair. When he finally spun and met her gaze, the leering look he wore put a knot in her stomach.
“Mr. Gerrard? Sir? Is something wrong with Mrs. Gerrard?”
“She’s faaaast asleep. Took some elixxxxir for a baaaad headache she had. I doubt she’ll be waking anytime soooooon.”
“Well, I hope she feels better in the morning.” Callie could barely get the words out and maintain a semblance of calm. Her heart beat faster. He sounded quite drunk.
Why in the heavens was he in her room?
He smiled, a smug smile, and stumbled over to her bed, where he plopped down on the edge. All at once, every odd and lingering look he’d given her came rushing back. She scooted away and clutched the c
overs at her neck tighter. The scent of whiskey reached her, deepening her fear. Yes, he was most definitely drunk off his rocker.
“Callie, don’t thinkkk I haven’t noticed you tryinggg to tempt meeee.” His words came out more slurred. “I see the way you move your hipssss while you’re around me. The sweet lookssss you give me.” He put a hand on her thigh, overtop the covers, and squeezed even as she tried to squirm away.
“Mr. Gerrard, you are mistaken, and you are drunk. I insist you leave my bedroom at once.”
“Very well.” His face darkened. “How about thissss, Callie? You are homeless and nearly pennilesssss. You are estranged from your family and have no friendsss here in Culpepper Cove. My wife and I took you in out of the goodness in our heartssss when we heard about your predicaaaaament.”
“Leave my room now, Mr. Gerrard, or I will scream.”
He shook his head with a laugh. “Push the coversss off yourself and slip your nightdress off your shoulderssss. I want to see you.”
“No.” A scream built in her throat, but fear kept her from making any sound as he drew closer. It was like one of those dreams she often had during which a monster was chasing her, but she couldn’t make her legs work to escape the danger no matter how hard she tried. But she doubted she would wake up the moment this monster touched her. “Please,” she whispered. “You mustn’t. You are a married man, sir. And even if you weren’t… well, you must leave!”
“Ha! Married. To that old bag? I’d hoped when I came out west to oversee my claim, that she would stay in Philadelphia. But she insisted on coming. Just my luuuuck, I suppose.” He sneered.
“You should consider yourself lucky to have such a devoted wife.” If she kept him talking, maybe he would change his mind. Or pass out in a drunken stupor.
“Enough talk. Let’s get rid of these blasted covers.” He lunged at her, tearing the top quilt from her hands.
Callie pushed herself out from underneath him. But the moment her feet hit the floor, he grabbed her with a roughness that terrified her. He forced her to bend over the bed. Her blood ran cold when she felt his hands roaming underneath her nightdress, stroking her bottom overtop her drawers. She shuddered and closed her eyes, praying to make it through this ordeal unscathed.
“Now, be a good girl and keep quiet.” He put a hand around the side of her neck and squeezed. “I’ll cut your air off if you make another soooound.”
This couldn’t be happening. Tears escaped Callie’s eyes and smeared onto the covers beneath her face. She turned her head to the side and focused on breathing in and out. Her slight movement resulted in Mr. Gerrard tightening his hands around her neck.
With his free hand, he pulled open the tie holding up her drawers. She felt the fabric pooling at her feet, and the cool night air drifting in the open window hit her bare flesh. She heard the fumbling of a belt buckle being opened.
Her heart pounded. She said a prayer and took a deep breath, then planted her feet square on the floor and reared back, knocking Mr. Gerrard over while he was distracted with unfastening his trousers.
She tried to rush by him and reach the door, but the drawers that were tangled around her ankles slowed her steps. She hopped out of them and managed to wrap her hand around the cold metal doorknob, only to be grabbed around her stomach and jerked backward. He lifted her in the air, and a second later she found herself tossed on her bed.
Jumping on top of her, he straddled her and pinned her wrists together above her head. When he leaned down to smirk in her face, she nearly gagged at the stench of whiskey and other foul smells emanating from him.
“You like it rough, do you?” He chuckled and pressed his lips against hers.
She thrashed around beneath him but was no match for his large size. She gagged as he kissed her. Tears continued spilling down her cheeks. He forced her legs apart and she felt his hard member against her thigh.
“What in God’s name is this?” an irritated feminine voice called from the doorway.
Mr. Gerrard froze and looked over at his wife.
Relief swept through Callie. She stared at Mrs. Gerrard with wide eyes, waiting for the lady of the house to berate her husband for his wickedness. But what happened next Callie could have never predicted.
“Apologies, my love,” Mr. Gerrard said, releasing Callie and crawling off the bed. He fixed his trousers shut and closed his belt. “I’ve had a little to drink this evening, and when I came home, Callie was downstairs in nothing but her thin nightdress. She pressed herself against me the moment I walked in the door and asked me to touch her. Forgive me for my weakness, Maggie.”
Mrs. Gerrard’s face softened when she gazed into her husband’s eyes, but when she turned to look at Callie, she had nothing but burning hatred in her stare.
“Is this the thanks I get for convincing my husband to show you charity during your time of need? You try to seduce my husband?”
Callie pushed her nightdress down and stared at the couple in disbelief. “N-no, ma’am. That’s not what happened at all.”
“Don’t you be lyin’ to me, child. I know you’ve a great deal of sin in your heart. You’ve been planning to lead my husband straight into hell with you this whole time, haven’t you?”
“No, Mrs. Gerrard, I didn’t—”
“Pack your things. I want you out of our house. I don’t care that it’s the middle of the night. I’ll not house a slut under my roof for a minute longer.”
Mr. Gerrard stood beside his wife now, his head lowered and his demeanor subdued, as if he were a child who’d been caught sneaking a sweet cake before supper. He put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and then backed out of the room.
“You have one minute to be gone. Anything you leave behind will be thrown out.”
The door slammed shut and Callie couldn’t move, or even take in a single breath, for several seconds. Numb disbelief clutched at her heart. How could this have happened? Mr. Gerrard’s leering glances had made her uneasy, but she’d never expected him to try to force himself upon her.
Wiping the tears from her face, she shot out of bed and hurried to dress herself. She packed up her things in two valises. She didn’t have much to her name anymore. Most of her pretty dresses and nicer things had been exchanged for extra food while traveling on the ship to San Francisco. After that, she’d had to part with even more of her belongings because the stagecoach that brought them to Culpepper Cove only allowed a few pieces of luggage per passenger.
When she burst out of the bedroom struggling to carry her valises, Mr. and Mrs. Gerrard were waiting at the bottom of the steps, standing next to the open front door. Her heart lurched. She was literally being tossed out onto the street in the middle of the night.
“Good riddance, whore,” Mrs. Gerrard hissed under her breath as Callie walked outside.
At this hour, the town was shut down and dark—except for The Red Petticoat. Piano music, singing, and laughter floated out of the establishment as she neared it, still struggling with her valises. The whole place was lit up, and she saw the figures moving around in front of the large front window. Miners and gems.
Not far down the street, two lanterns glowed on the porch of the Bentley Inn, but all the windows were dark. The owners of the hotel, William and Mildred Bentley, were likely fast asleep right now. She didn’t have the nerve to knock, and she moved back down the street toward The Red Petticoat again.
She felt lost. Stranded. And so very alone.
At this time last year, last May, she’d just arrived in San Francisco with Matthew. Her heart had been full of hope. Hope for a new life in a new land. She’d even hoped to have a child soon. But no matter how hard they tried, it never came to pass during their short year together. Perhaps that was a blessing. She couldn’t imagine trying to raise and provide for a child in Culpepper Cove all by herself. Especially now.
What would she do? Where would she go? The few dollars she had to her name wouldn’t get her more than a week at Bentley Inn.
&nb
sp; She stumbled over something in the street that she hadn’t seen in the darkness. Probably a pile of manure, judging by the stench that reached her as her valises flew forward. One of them opened when it landed, and everything inside spilled onto the dirty street. She started to cry but stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and in the next moment someone had lifted her up.
Heart racing, she spun around. Was a bandit going to rob her of her few dollars? Was he going to steal the few possessions she had left?
She stared up at one of the tallest men she’d ever seen and gasped. If he were a bandit, she didn’t stand a chance against him.
“Relax. Cálmate. I only want to help you.”
In the darkness, she couldn’t make out his features very well, but the kindness in his accented voice indeed helped her relax. Besides, if he planned to steal from her or harm her, wouldn’t he have done so already?
“Are you lost?”
“N-no, I’m… I have nowhere to go. I didn’t even do anything wrong, I…” She dissolved into sobs. She’d nearly been raped, and now she was truly homeless. The weight of her predicament made it difficult to breathe. When she’d eloped with the love of her life and traveled out west, she had certainly never planned on ending up stranded in a mining town, alone and nearly destitute.
“My name is Gabriel. Let me help you with your belongings, and if you’d like, you can stay at The Red Petticoat tonight.”
“But I’m not a…” She stopped herself. She couldn’t say whore or even soiled dove. Maybe some of the gems had once been in her shoes, stranded with nowhere else to go. She couldn’t fault a woman for doing what she must to survive.
“I didn’t say you were.” He put her scattered belongings away and picked up both of the large, heavy valises as if they weighed nothing. “Come. Madame Jewel will make sure you have a safe, warm place to sleep tonight. No one will hurt you. I give you my word.”
Callie took a deep breath and wiped at her tears. “All right. Th-thank you, Gabriel.”
