Mail Order Lorena

by Zina Abbott

“I did not. I didn’t want to be with Timothy, but…”

  “See? You put it on him. Then, you with your church-going. The others have mentioned they see your Bible you keep in your room. Holier than thou, aren’t you?”

  “No! I –”

  “Yes!”

  Clyde shook her arm, nearly throwing Lorena off-balance.

  “You see, I’m a preacher’s son, myself.” Speaking in a mocking tone, Clyde raised his arm and waved his hand. “My father decided one day he was called by God. He gathered his few followers. On Sundays, he preached hellfire and brimstone to those in the congregation. At home, he and his bottle beat hellfire and brimstone into his family until I finally stopped it.” Clyde narrowed his eyes and studied her. “I’m stopping it with you, too. You do what I say, and when your father-in-law’s man returns, I’ll turn his attention away. If you try to run, I’ll tell him to go to your sister’s house. You don’t want him bothering your sister, do you?”

  Lorena closed her eyes. In resignation, she shook her head and stared at the floor.

  “That’s better. I want you to work for me, Lorena, but not as a cook. Starting tomorrow, I have a new woman who will do the cooking. She’s another homesteader’s wife whose husband died. This woman is older and won’t be any good upstairs. She’ll make her bed in the pantry.” Clyde walked over to his desk and opened a side drawer. He pulled out a bundle of red fabric and threw it at Lorena. “Here. You fix this up by tomorrow night.”

  As she straightened out the red fabric, Lorena blanched. She turned to Clyde. “This is my gown. It was in my trunk. Only I have the key.”

  Clyde laughed and shook his head. “I don’t need a key to get into a trunk.”

  Lorena clutched the dress to her middle. “What else did you steal out of there?”

  Clyde responded with a glare. “Nothing in there was worth stealing, only linens and other nonsense you women like. I should have tossed the books I found in the bottom, but I left them.” His face split into a grin. “Your journal that ended not long after your husband’s death I found interesting. I’m sure the detective would, too.”

  Mortified that her private thoughts and feelings had been invaded in such a manner, Lorena turned away.

  “Don’t turn from me, Lorena. I’ll be nice to you. You see, those other whores who work here are your friends. They persuaded me to break you in easy. They’ll help you get that gown ready. They’ll show you how to fix your hair and put some color on your face.”

  “Color on…I don’t use artificial color on my face.”

  “You will now. The customers like it. Now, listen!” Clyde grabbed her by the upper arms once more and turned her to face him. “I’m letting you just work the floor out front for twice the wage I paid you to cook and clean. You don’t have to take anyone upstairs to your room.”

  Lorena eyed him warily. “That is all you want?”

  Clyde nodded. “For the first few days, unless it gets really busy, and I need you. You see, the girls made the argument that by making our little kitchen mouse, here…” Clyde reached over and grabbed a strand of Lorena’s hair that had escaped her chignon.

  Lorena leaned away from his hand and pulled her hair free.

  Clyde laughed. “Maybe you aren’t such a mouse. Better if you’re not. However, you have been unattainable to any of those who have seen you bring glasses out to Al. I want you to continue to be unattainable, at least for the next several days. I want you out there prancing around in that dress of yours, serving drinks, and talking to the customers. I want the anticipation to build up inside the men. Before it’s all over, they all will want to take you upstairs.”

  Lorena continued to shake her head in denial. “No, Clyde. Please don’t ask me to do that. I’ll—I’ll serve drinks for you, but I never want to take a man upstairs.”

  “Hush, Lorena. Don’t you see where I am doing you a favor by giving you time to get used to the idea? I’ll give you a few nights, but it all changes on Sunday. Sunday, I’ve got a customer all lined up who agreed to spend the entire night with you.” Clyde laughed. “He’s a clever one, always acting like he isn’t interested in women. But I know he wants you.”

  Her lips parted, Lorena wrinkled her brow and shook her head. “How could someone specifically want me? I rarely go out front where any of your customers would see me.”

  “He’s seen you. I offered you to him, and he accepted.”

  “You-You offered…what’s his name?” Lorena knew she should not have asked—should not have shown any interest. Then again, if she knew the name, she could ask the others if they had been with him. They would let her know what she could expect.

  “Anxious, are you? His name is Cantrell.”

  Lorena’s legs weakened. She clutched the red gown even tighter to her middle to hide her trembling. Eustace Cantrell? He agreed to buy her body for the night?

  Lorena recalled the last time he came to Salina—the last time she knew of—and she met him by the hotel. He gave her a letter, and they talked. The letter had been from one of the men she wrote to about possible marriage. The correspondent informed her he decided on another woman, and they had married in March. Eustace commiserated and expressed the hope that she might hear from the second man to whom she had written and his response would be more positive. Before they parted, she gave him her letter to her father’s attorney.

  Mr. Cantrell never said a word about talking to Clyde, let alone that he agreed to pay to come to her room. Just before they parted, he had looked at her with a strange expression she could not interpret.

  Lorena felt like she had been stabbed in the heart. How could he do this to me? She wished nothing more than to sink in the ground beneath the saloon and cease to exist.

  Clyde leaned toward her, his breath bathing her face. “You will take him to your room, and you will bring him in your bed. You will let him have you as many times as he wants, do you understand? And, you will be grateful that, at least that one night, you will have only one man to please instead of several.”

  Lorena refused to meet his gaze. How many others know of my humiliation?

  Clyde leaned back. “The other girls will help you. They already know about Sunday.”

  Lorena closed her eyes. Why didn’t they say something? I thought they were my friends. Upon hearing Clyde’s self-satisfied chuckle, she looked up.

  Clyde waved her toward the door. “Now, take that to your room and hang it up so the creases fall out. Tomorrow, you start working downstairs with the customers.”

  Lorena rushed out of Clyde’s office. She paused at the bottom stair and glanced at the saloon. In quick succession, Fancy, Sabrina, Rosa, and Al all turned and stared. They know. Ignoring the expressions of sympathy she saw in Fancy’s and Rosa’s eyes, she fled up the stairs.

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  Chapter 12

  ~o0o~

  May 1, 1866

  A lthough she had not slept well, Lorena woke at her usual time in the morning. She lay in bed and told herself she did not need to go to the kitchen. Yet, her head ached and her stomach grumbled. She wanted hot tea and warm water to wash off the imaginary filth she already felt coated her now she had agreed to work the saloon’s front room.

  After she took the gown upstairs the previous night, she returned to the kitchen long enough to prepare tea and biscuits with ham to bring to her room. Before she could escape the kitchen, a middle-aged woman stepped out of the pantry. She introduced herself as Alma, the new cook. Even though Lorena had nothing against the woman who now did the job she had worked for seven months, she did not want to talk with her. She did not want to face anyone—especially Clyde. I must get up and go downstairs.

  Lorena refused Alma’s offer to prepare her food. She brought what she wanted for the morning upstairs, grateful she did so without seeing any of the others.

  A couple of hours later, Lorena cringed when she heard the knock on the door. She guessed it was Fancy
, since she seemed to be the first one to wake up in the mornings. As much as Lorena wanted to ignore the knock and wait for whomever it was to go away, she heaved a sign and rose from her chair by the small table next to the window. She had to face them sometime. Might as well get it over with.

  As soon as she opened the door, Fancy entered and closed the door behind her.

  Fancy walked over and sat on the edge of Lorena’s bed. “How are you doing this morning, sugar?”

  The commiseration in Fancy’s tone did little to soften Lorena’s anger toward everyone who worked at the saloon. She turned away from Fancy. “Not well. What did you expect?” Tears brimming in her eyes, Lorena faced her. “Why, Fancy? You all knew what Clyde had planned for me. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “Sugar, we all knew what Clyde had planned. We also knew you hoped to leave. We know you don’t want to do this. We decided, if you got away, there would be no need upsetting you by saying something.”

  Lorena choked and shook her head. “I tried. For one thing, he refused to pay me.” She heaved a sigh of resignation. “He’s got something he’s holding over my head, Fancy. Even if I used what I received in March to buy a stagecoach ticket, it might not have gotten me any farther than Abilene. From all I’ve heard, I would be no better off there than here.”

  Fancy shook her head. “No, sugar, there’s nothing there. Maybe, if you get to Junction City, you can find something. If not, Topeka or Kansas City would be best.” She paused. “You send all the rest of your money to your sister?”

  Lorena nodded. “I’ve been trying to save my family. And now…and now –” She sucked in a breath. “Clyde is threatening them. More to the point, a man hired by my father-in-law is looking for Timothy and me. Clyde said he steered him away from me, but the man promised to return. If I don’t do this, Clyde will tell him who I am.” Her gaze met Fancy’s. “I don’t want to burden you with all my problems, but I have good reasons I don’t want my father-in-law to learn where I am or know anything about my life since Timothy and I have been together.”

  Fancy leaned back on her forearms. She stretched out her legs, which she crossed at the ankle. “And you want this man not to find you bad enough you’re willing to do what Clyde wants—you, a preacher’s daughter?”

  Lorena shook her head. “No, I don’t want to do this. I don’t think God wants this. However, in order to protect the ones I love…” She bit her lip. “I must have faith that God will understand my situation and not judge me too harshly.” She glanced at Fancy, and then down when she realized Fancy studied her.

  “Well, sugar, I don’t think it’s a man you’re protecting. I can’t see you agreeing to this for your sister, especially when she has her own husband to look out for her. It sounds to me like a child is involved.”

  Lorena tightened her fingers into fists to keep them from trembling. She turned her head so Fancy could not see her face. “Why would you think that?”

  Fancy rose from the bed and walked over to Lorena. She squatted in front of her and took both of Lorena’s hands in hers. “You don’t want to tell me your secrets because you don’t trust me or because you’re worried the walls have ears, I understand, sugar. I’ve got two secrets of my own. You know that sister of mine I told you passes for white? She’s afraid to marry and have children of her own, but she does have two children to love and raise—mine. They were both babies when I lost everything, including my Louis. I took them to my sister. They have one more generation of white in them than she and I do, sugar. They think they’re white. They’ll never know their real maman, whom they have been told died in the war, has a great-grandmother from Africa.” Fancy turned her gaze and stared wistfully at the wall. “Perhaps a day will come when it won’t matter where a person’s ancestors came from, but that time is not here yet. There are those who will claim what I did for my children was wrong. They would kill me and my babies if they knew.” She shook her head. “I don’t care. For now, I’m doing what’s best for them.”

  Lorena studied Fancy’s face. “You must miss them terribly.”

  Fancy nodded. “I do. I gave my sister almost everything I had to take care of them. I’ll continue doing what I do so when they get older and she needs more money to give them a good education, I can give it to her.” She rose to her feet. “Don’t ever feel bad about you doing this to protect a secret if it involves a child, sugar. You just have faith that when God gets around to judging you, He’ll take into account those who put you in the position you find yourself in now.”

  Lorena bowed her head and closed her eyes. Is that true? Will He really take into account the actions of everyone else when he judges me? The sound of footsteps crossing her room interrupted her thoughts. She lifted her head in time to see Fancy finger the red evening gown.

  “This sure is pretty, sugar. Clyde said you had a gown, but I see already we need to help you fix it.”

  “Timothy bought it for me to wear at a dinner with investors. I never liked it. The off-the-shoulder sleeves are so narrow and it shows too much bosom. I had it packed away, but Clyde told me to wear it.”

  Fancy responded with her deep, throaty laugh. “Oh, sugar, this gown is perfect. We’ll get it shortened and maybe take in the skirt a little.”

  “Shortened? But my ankles will show.”

  Fancy turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “We need to take it up about a foot, sugar. More than your ankle will show.” She offered a reassuring smile. “It’s better that way. The men who come here expect to see a little leg. You’ll get more business that way. Plus, when you take them to your room, you won’t trip going up and down the stairs.” She turned back and canted her head as she studied it. “We need to get you some black ruffled petticoats, too.”

  “B-Black? I have one black petticoat I wear under my dark wool skirt, but I left my mourning clothes behind.”

  Fancy waved her comment away. “No, sugar, not mourning black. You need something shiny and crinkly—made of taffeta and lace. I’ll loan you one of mine, for now.”

  A knock on the door prompted both of them to turn toward it.

  Fancy turned to Lorena. “It’s probably Sabrina and Rosa. Clyde left before I came up here, saying he had business to take care of.”

  In an effort to calm her nervousness, Lorena inhaled. She had made it through discussing her situation with Fancy. Deciding she might as well face the other two, she opened the door.

  As Fancy predicted, Sabrina and Rosa stood on the other side, questioning expressions on their faces.

  She opened the door wider and motioned for them to come inside.

  Rosa immediately walked over to the red gown. She picked up the hem of the skirt. “Oooh! So pretty!” She turned to Lorena. “With your dark hair, it will look nice on you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sabrina wrinkled her forehead as she studied Lorena. “You’re going to do this? I thought you planned to get away.”

  Lorena’s shoulders slumped and she dropped her gaze. “I want to. Unfortunately, for reasons I cannot go into, I dare not leave just yet.”

  “It have something to do with Clyde warning us not to talk to strangers about you?”

  Lorena exhaled and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Try the dress on for us, Lola.” Rosa giggled. “Clyde said he’ll start calling you that. I like that name. Sometimes, it’s best to use a different name than your real name, no? Like Fancy, si?”

  Sabrina snorted. “I don’t care if people know my real name. If word of what I do gets back to my family and embarrasses them, I figure it’s their just rewards.” She focused on Lorena. “What about the practical matters? Do you have your sponges and vinegar? Do you know how to take care of them?”

  Lorena blinked. Sponges? Vinegar? “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with what you are speaking about.”

  Sabrina rolled her eyes. “While these two are oohing and ahhing about the gown and how to fix it up, I’ll help you with that, and a few other things you need to know. Yo
u don’t want to find yourself pregnant with no idea who the father is, do you?”

  Her stomach churning and threatening to send up her breakfast, Lorena shook her head. “No.”

  Rosa gave Sabrina an impatient look. “See what you did? Already, you start her worrying.” She turned to Lorena. “Try it on for us, Lorena.”

  Lorena shook her head. “The corset I wore with it is still in my trunk Clyde keeps locked away in his storeroom.”

  “We’ll tell him to get it for you, sugar.” Fancy turned to the other two. “I told her we’d help her alter the skirt. And, with the buttons in back, the side seams need to be opened and laces added so she can get in and out of it without help. Either of you have a black petticoat you want to loan or sell her?” When both of them shook their heads, Fancy turned to Lorena. “The one I’ll let you use for now will do, sugar, especially after we restyle the skirt. Fixing it so it’s not so full might have to wait until tomorrow. We’ll be lucky if we get this hem shortened by tonight.”

  “But my ankles…” In a society where decent women were expected to wear their skirts long enough to cover their feet, the last thing she wished was to draw attention to her ankles.

  “Wear black stockings, sugar. They won’t see your skin.”

  Sabrina nodded. “Eventually, you’ll want to get some pretty ones with stripes. The men like those.”

  “You’re good at needlework, sugar. Maybe you can take a black pair you already own and embroider some red flowers at the ankles to match the gown.”

  An incredulous expression on her face, Lorena turned toward Fancy. She ignored the woman’s teasing smile and shook her head.

  The three spent the next several minutes educating Lorena on what she needed to know to protect herself when she took a man to her room. They also warned her some men liked to be rough and others might be physically abusive. They assured her Clyde and Al would step in if they realized a customer got too out of hand. However, a certain amount of pain and bruises were considered an occupational hazard. Clyde expected them to be tolerated.