Della: Bride of Texas (American Mail-Order Bride 28)

by Trinity Ford

  “Hank?” Della asked when he walked her up the steps of the Jennings’ porch.

  “Yes?” Hank answered.

  “Give me time, okay?” Della said with a gentle smile. “It’s been a long time since I trusted my own judgment.”

  “Take all the time you need,” Hank said, bringing her hand up to his lips. “You’re worth waiting for.”

  Chapter 16

  Going home to a big, empty house was hard for Hank. So many nights in the past, he’d simply stayed downtown in one of the local hotels, wanting to avoid the vast emptiness he felt walking through the hollow estate. It was even harder now that Della had been in his home. Everywhere he turned, he could envision her standing there, smiling at him—part of his life permanently. This scared him to death—the thought of giving up all he’d ever known in the depths of Hell’s Half Acre and all that life entailed, and committing to a different type of existence.

  The feeling of wanting more than the thrill of gambling and drinking filled him with hope and fear at the same time. He wanted Della badly—needed her—and this was a feeling that was foreign to him. As he always did when life threw him a curveball, Hank prayed about it. In all the time he’d been in Fort Worth, church was a place of solace and comfort for him, made easier by the fact that Pastor Littlejohn and Mabel took everyone under their wings. Today, Hank would be attending church as Della’s beau—facing some of the same people who typically whispered and gossiped about his antics the night before. Only now, he wasn’t spending his evenings wagering with money…he was being a better man and betting his heart. He knew most of those same people wouldn’t be able to look beyond his past and see his potential, but he hoped Della could. She was all that mattered.

  Church was packed that day. Pastor Littlejohn had promised a motivating sermon unlike any he’d ever given, and curiosity piqued the interest of some who weren’t usually in attendance. Hank waited outside the doors until Della arrived with Roy and Mary in tow.

  “You look lovely,” Hank said, admiring the simple, yet elegant dress she wore.

  “It’s Mary’s,” Della said, slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t want to wear those old brown sacks I own, but I also didn’t feel comfortable wearing the flashy ones in the house of the Lord.”

  Hank made a mental note to have Beatrice look into a selection for Della that she could feel comfortable in at church services. Pastor Littlejohn called for services to begin. Instead of sitting in his usual back row seat, where he could shield his bloodshot eyes and sometimes disheveled look from the rest of the congregation, he walked proudly down the aisle and sat in a pew closer to the pulpit, right between Della and Mary.

  “Today’s sermon is going to make you uncomfortable,” Pastor Littlejohn began. “Because right now, among all of you, the devil sits in our church.” Gasps escaped from the crowd as everyone looked around at those sitting beside them. “He allows you to come in this place as a way to deceive you and make you believe your heart is pure, but only on Sundays.”

  Hank felt the sting of those truthful words. For years, he’d attended church on Sundays, but hadn’t followed a Christian lifestyle the other six days of the week. Della reached over and held Hank’s hand. Nurturing came naturally to her. It was if she could sense the way he was beating himself up inside.

  “I’m going to issue a challenge to each and every one of you today,” Pastor Littlejohn continued. “Go out in our community and take the Lord with you every day as you show your neighbors kindness, seek forgiveness, and help change someone’s life for the better. Do not allow yourself to walk back through those doors a week from now, having gossiped about others, ignored those less fortunate than you, or let pride prevent you from doing what’s right.”

  The sermon was over in an hour and this Sunday, there was a potluck after church in the courtyard. Della had brought some of her fried chicken, two jars of peach preserves, and a three-layer cake.

  “You’d better keep John Thornton away from that food until I fix my plate,” Hank teased. John was known for his voracious appetite at the potluck dinners, but no one made a fuss since he was a longtime bachelor who had no one to prepare meals for him at home.

  “Hank?” Sheriff Lockhart said, walking up from behind. “Is that you? I almost didn’t recognize you with the whites of your eyeballs showing.” He slapped Hank on the shoulder and laughed with him about Hank’s previous days of dozing off in church after a wild night in the Acre.

  “Della here’s made a respectable man out of me,” Hank said, nodding in her direction.

  “That so?” the sheriff replied. “Well, be glad you weren’t down in the Acre last night. Kitty Brown was hauled off to the calaboose for assault on one of her girls. It’s getting bad down there, my friend. We’re going to have to clean house soon.”

  Hank had known Kitty for years. She was the owner of a brothel—one that Hank only showed up to when he was helping out one of her girls. He and Kitty had a volatile relationship. She didn’t take too kindly to him trying to help the girls get straight, and he didn’t like the way she put them in harm’s way. He hated to put the women out of work, but he had to find a way to put an end to this and let Fort Worth rebuild as a respectable town from the ground floor, up.

  “Sheriff?” Hank said, suddenly turning serious. “I wonder if you might have a minute to chat about an idea I have.”

  “If it involves eating while we chat, sure!” Sheriff Lockhart joked.

  “We’ll fix y’alls plates,” Della said. “Just save us a place!” She and Millie walked off toward the potluck tables, while Hank and the sheriff found a place to sit and talk.

  “I’ve been thinking about cleaning up the Acre for a long time, now,” Hank began. “I certainly enjoy a game or two of cards, but seeing those girls engage in that kind of lifestyle breaks my heart, and I can only do so much on my own.”

  “I’m in agreement,” Sheriff Lockhart said. “What’s the plan?”

  “Well, you know I’ve always been available to offer money or goods to the girls when they need me,” Hank said. “But what if a few of us get together and set them up in new lives somewhere else? Somewhere away from here! There’s no chance they could ever be accepted by the community after working there, but if we pool our resources and influence, I don’t see why they couldn’t start over—maybe in Austin or Houston.”

  “Some of ‘em don’t want to leave, Hank,” the sheriff said.

  “I know that,” Hank said, disappointed to have the memory of his mother flood his mind and heart as one of the ones who preferred that way of life. “And after we get the ones who do somewhere safe, you can clean up the rest with some strict enforcement of the law—none of this revolving door stuff down at the calaboose. If Fort Worth ever wants to compete with Dallas as a hub for respectable families to settle down, we’re going to have to buckle down and get tough.”

  “Let me talk to the council and Judge Bryant and see what we can do,” the sheriff said. “Going to have to have a way to replace the income they’ll lose or it’ll never happen. In the meantime, I’ll spread the word about our plan and see if I can get some support in neighboring towns where we can get the girls to safety. There’s some mighty fine people out there who will be willing to help.”

  “Appreciate it,” Hank said gratefully.

  “Hope you two have big appetites today,” Millie said as she walked up with Della. “With such a packed house, there were too many options to pass up!”

  The two couples sat at the table next to the large oak tree where they could keep an eye on the little ones playing at its trunk. “What were you two talking about so seriously over here?” Millie asked playfully. “Seems like you’re up to no good.

  “Now, darlin’,” Sheriff Lockhart said, “Some things aren’t fit for women to hear. But rest assured we’re not getting into any trouble.”

  “One thing I could use you ladies’ input on,” Hank said. “Not too long ago, Texas Spring Palace burned to the ground, as you
know. We didn’t even have a chance to enjoy it more than a year or so, but it was already bringing in fine families from all over. Sheriff and I were just talking about working on a plan to build more respectable entertainment options here in Fort Worth. What would you ladies like to see? We men already have the rodeo and the Fort Worth Cats baseball team. I’m looking for something that will make wives nag their husbands to settle them here instead of in our rival’s home territory 33 miles east.”

  “Now who would want to live in Dallas, anyway?” Della laughed. She had been to Dallas a couple of times with Roy and Mary, looking for supplies, and she found Dallas very dismal and unwelcoming compared to lively and friendly Fort Worth. “They may have more, but they don’t have the best of anything.”

  “I think we can have the best of both worlds,” Hank explained. “We can maintain the close-knit community we’ve built, but add attractions that help to bring in more families.

  “What about a theater?” Della asked. “Back home we had a lovely little theater where they put on vaudeville acts. I think the women would enjoy that type of entertainment.”

  “A theater?” Hank said, smiling broadly. “Why, that’s a great idea! Della, you spearhead the committee and research exactly what you’d want and I’ll get some partners onboard to build the thing.”

  Life was truly blossoming for the couple during this time. Hank hadn’t felt this amazing in years—in fact, never. Time spent with Della was calm and soothing, but far from boring. She made him excited to be the kind of man she could admire, and he couldn’t wait to see what their future would hold.

  Chapter 17

  As the weeks flew by, Della’s days were filled with many more societal responsibilities than when she first arrived to work in the General Store. She still worked there, of course, but she enjoyed spending many of her off hours organizing charity fundraisers, helping neighbors and volunteering for the church—and spending more time with Hank.

  Next week, she’d be hosting her very first event along with the other ladies of the Fort Worth Women’s Theater Society—a new group formed by Della, Millie, Hannah and Annabelle, and dedicated to the task of bringing culture and respectable theater to the fledgling town. From the moment Hank and Sheriff Lockhart had asked the women what type of entertainment they wanted, the theater was all she could think about. Della had heard about the vaudeville acts when she was in Lawrence, but she wasn’t there long enough to go see one. There were also traveling theater groups that performed plays suitable for the entire family and she couldn’t wait to book the first one.

  Hank had promised to get partners together to build it, but the ladies wanted to pitch in, so the idea of hosting the Tarrant County Two Step Dance ‘N Dine Auction was born. Few people knew much about the two step dance yet, but Annabelle told them it came from the valse e deus temps, or two beat waltz, from Europe. She and Lee had seen a different, Texas version of it when they were at a cattle baron’s ball in Houston last month and the couple was excited to get it started in Fort Worth.

  The event was sure to raise eyebrows because it was a reverse invitation dance, where the women asked the men. Fundraising for the theater would be done through a silent auction. Dozens of business owners had committed to the event, allowing them to auction off art, services such as fence building and stacking hay, collectibles, food and other supplies from the General Store and fine clothing from Beatrice’s shop. Everyone in town was excited and saving their coins to make an offer on some of the enticing items.

  Della was readying herself to ride into town and deliver her invitation to Hank in person. She wanted to look her very best and had chosen one of the blue dresses in her growing collection that always made him smile.

  “I wish I could dance,” Mary said as Della told her about the upcoming event.

  “You can dance,” Della said, taking Mary’s hands and twirling her around the room, making sure she didn’t stumble or bump into anything. “Annabelle showed us how the two step works. It’s so romantic. There’s the shadow, sweetheart, promenade…” Her voice trailed off as she got lost in thought about gliding around the dancefloor with Hank, just as she wished she’d gotten to do the night he first asked her to dance at the grand opening of the Stockyards when she was still tied to Milton.

  “Do you think I’ll ever have a beau?” Mary asked, sounding a bit melancholy.

  “Oh Mary, yes” Della said. “You have no idea just how beautiful you are. Not to mention smart. Why I guarantee that before the next year is over, your pa will have to sit outside that door with a six shooter in his lap, just fighting off all the suitors!”

  Mary laughed. “You really think so?”

  “I know so,” Della said. “Want to come help me get my invitation for Hank ready?”

  “Sure!” Mary said, eager to be a part of the event in any way she could.

  Each of the women involved with the event was thinking of a unique way to invite her beau to the dance. Della had gotten her picture taken by a photographer, wearing the beautiful dress Hank had held up to her that day in Beatrice’s shop. She had put it in a delicate frame, and would pack it inside a picnic hamper filled with Hank’s favorite foods that she made. He loved her fried chicken and homemade biscuits, so she packed them in the hamper along with baked sweet potatoes and homemade blueberry pie, made with fresh blueberries Della had picked just that morning. And, inside the basket was the formal invitation, letting him know about the event and her intention to take him as her guest.

  As she headed into town to deliver the invitation, Della felt relief that she didn’t have to prepare this invitation for Milton. At least now, she relished the opportunity to spend time with her beau. She tethered the horse to the post after pulling up outside the General Store near Hank’s office and climbed down, picnic hamper in hand.

  “Well, now, don’t you look pretty and all lady-like,” a woman’s voice drawled as Della crossed the street. Della recognized her as Kitty Brown, the bawd of the brothel of Hell’s Half Acre. Della had seen her come in a few times, and Roy had told her all about the woman’s horrible reputation.

  Della walked ahead, ignoring the comment.

  “You don’t really think he’s going to change, do you?” Kitty said, taunting Della as she made her way up the steps of Hank’s office. “In no time at all, he’ll be sitting in my parlor while you sit home wondering where he is.”

  Della stopped and turned to face Kitty. “Hank doesn’t need you and your kind in his life anymore,” she said angrily. “You prey on poor, young women, down on their luck just to bring them into a life of sin and debauchery.”

  Kitty stood at the side of the street, hands on hips and swaying slightly. “Ha!” Kitty taunted, “You think he’s going to be satisfied with a little boring goody-goody like you? Well, let me tell you something. After the newness wears off, he’ll be high-tailing it back to my place and you’ll be left high and dry—an angry, bitter old woman who should have known better than to place a bet on Hank Hensley ever settling down.”

  Della turned on her heel and left Kitty laughing like a hyena in the street. She refused to engage in a conversation with a drunken, evil woman.

  The exchange left Della shaken. She knew about Hank’s past, but that didn’t make it any easier to have it thrown in her face—especially by a low life, conniving woman like Kitty.

  Kitty continued laughing as she sauntered off down the street, her body teetering back and forth in a drunken stupor. Della took a deep breath. She didn’t want to enter Hank’s office in a fitful state. She stood there momentarily, thinking back on a positive memory—like the hayride and that kiss. When she regained her composure, she opened the door.

  “Knock, knock!” Della said, easing her way into the office.

  Hank rose from his chair and walked around his desk to greet her. “Don’t you look amazing,” he said, gently holding her shoulders and kissing her cheek. He took the hamper out of her hands so she could sit down. “To what do I owe the ple
asure?” He brought the basket up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I hope it has something to do with what’s in this basket.”

  “Well,” Della began excitedly. “As you know, the ladies and I have started our own committee for the theater project. And we’re hosting a dance and auction next Saturday night where the roles are reversed and the women invite the men.”

  Hank whistled to feign concern. “Whew!” he drawled out. “That’s a daring proposition you got there!” Hank said, grinning from ear to ear. “And you took pity on me and are asking me to escort you?”

  “Oh hush, Hank,” Della said, playfully hitting him on the arm. “You know there’s no one else I’d rather go with. Now look inside before I go. There’s something special in there that I had made just for you.”

  Hank pulled back the blue and white checked kitchen cloth, revealing a simple, but beautiful gilded picture frame that perfectly showcased an image of Della wearing his favorite dress that he first purchased off the rack at Beatrice’s. Although the photo was in sepia tones, he knew it was taken at the pond where they’d enjoyed their first picnic together. She must have arranged it with his staff. Hank was speechless. He stared at the gift as if it were a precious gemstone taking his breath away and tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Della…” Hank finally recovered enough to say. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” His tone was serious now, not playful. Della blushed and lowered her eyes, unable to take the compliment easily.

  “So you’ll go?” she asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it from him.

  “It will be my honor and my distinct pleasure,” Hank said, taking Della’s hand in his and raising it to his mouth for a gentle kiss that lingered much too long, but at the same time, not long enough.