Mail Order Lorena

by Zina Abbott

  Lorena sucked in a breath as she reached for them. With all the worry about spending the night with Eustace, the thought that he might have brought letters had escaped her awareness. She studied one envelope, and then the other. “One is from my sister. The second, I think, is from the other gentleman I contacted regarding…” She glanced at Eustace and then looked down. Slowly, she placed one envelope on top of the other and set them at the corner of the table. “Thank you.”

  “If you wish, please feel free to read them now. I don’t mind.”

  Baffled, Lorena glanced at him. When she talked with the others about spending the entire afternoon and night with Eustace, and when she entertained her own thoughts about what would take place, nothing came close to how their time together had gone so far. “If you’re sure…” At his nod, Lorena picked up the letter from her sister. “Thank you.”

  Halfway through the letter, tears filled Lorena’s eyes. Bringing her fingertips to her lips, she choked back a sob. She glanced at Eustace. “I’m sorry. I…”

  “Bad news?”

  “I’m not sure, really. Things have been difficult for us all, but it does sound like they averted disaster—for now, anyway.” She finished reading and folded the letter once more. She could feel her shoulders slump and her head sink toward her breast as she read the other letter. Wordlessly, she also folded the second letter and set it aside. “That was from the other gentleman to whom I was writing. After chastising me for not responding more quickly to his first letter, he has now decided he prefers not to become involved with a widow.” She inhaled and, like she had been taught in finishing school, sat up straight with her back not touching the chairback and folded her hands in her lap. “I will have to find newer editions of the newspapers and try again.” Lorena stared straight ahead, aware that Eustace studied her. After several seconds passed, she picked up her cheese and took a small bite.

  “Lorena, why are you doing this…whoring yourself out like you are?”

  Lorena sucked in her breath and snapped her head to face him. “I’m not certain it is any of your concern, Mr. Cantrell. What I choose to do…”

  Eustace leaned forward. “Lorena, you speak of finding other men to write to in an effort to find a husband. Do you want to know why many men do not want to get involved with a widow? Because of this. Yes, many women start out as widows, then turn to what you are doing. I know the war has been difficult…”

  Lorena slapped a hand on the table. “What has happened in my case has nothing to do with the war. It was because of the evil designs of men only concerned with taking what they want at the expense of others—in this case, me.”

  Eustace leaned away and raised his hands, palms up. “I’m not criticizing you, Lorena. I’m merely pointing out many men do not want to become entangled with a woman who has gone down the path you are going. Once you find a man who is interested in pursuing marriage, do you plan to confess all?”

  Lorena leaned back, tucked her chin into her neck, and frowned. “Why should I? I know people hold men and women to different standards, and I also know many men freely involve themselves with women before marriage, like you are doing now. If they have not been forced into a situation like mine, who are they to judge?”

  “They know if they marry a maiden, she has not led this kind of life. I was told you would start working the floor the first of the month. How many men have you brought to your room, just since then?”

  Lorena sucked in a breath and jutted her jaw forward. “I’m not sure it’s any of your business, Mr. Cantrell. Clyde knew I did not really want to do this, so he started me easy by having me just work the floor the first few days.”

  Eustace leaned forward and raised his voice. “How many men already, Lorena?”

  Clenching her teeth, Lorena glared several seconds before she turned away. “You will be the first. I’m not a virgin, of course, but he told me he chose you to break me in.” As she waited for his reaction, Lorena held herself completely still.

  Silence reigned for several seconds.

  “He specifically chose me, huh?” Eustace leaned back and stared out the window. He returned his gaze to Lorena. “If you truly wish to find a husband, it would be better if you do not do this.”

  With a snap to her voice, she blurted her response. “Not only am I doing this, you are here doing it with me.” Tears welled up in Lorena’s eyes, and she pressed her fingers to her lips to hold back a sob. “This is difficult enough for me. Why must you make it worse by rubbing my face in it?”

  “That is not my intent.” Eustace twisted in his chair and flopped his head back until it struck the window frame. “I’m just trying to understand you, Lorena. I mean, I understand me. I live in a bunkroom with other men in order to work at a low-paying job to earn enough money to save a scrap of land that’s been in my family for generations. I’m not in a position to offer any woman marriage. I can’t say I love you. I doubt I’ll ever again feel anything for anyone, including myself. But I do want you. I barely have enough money to spend one night with you. From what you just said, Clyde sensed it, which is why he approached me with his offer.”

  Lorena felt her hope that he might care for her desert her. “I see.”

  Eustace turned to face her and leaned forward. “I’m not sure you do. What I want to know is, if you don’t want to do this kind of work, why don’t you just leave?”

  Lorena studied his face—his oh-so-handsome face. Fancy was wrong. He won’t help me. All he cares about is finding fault. “I don’t have enough money to leave—not yet.”

  “Why not? I know you didn’t make as much working in the kitchen as the women who work upstairs, but you have been here several months. Could you not save some up?”

  “I needed to send most of it to my sister. I have some set aside, but not much. Clyde cut my hours partway through April. He refuses to pay me for what little I earned last month.”

  As he picked up his wineglass and drained it, Eustace narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t sound right. Unless he has more men acting as muscle to force them, I find it hard to believe the other three women here would stay if he treated them like that.”

  Lorena looked down and shook her head. “He pays them what is owed and on time. I’m the only one he holds back on.” She raised her gaze until it met his. “Granted, the others are getting a little nervous about the way he is treating me.”

  Eustace turned in his chair and studied the opposite wall as he shook his head. “Something doesn’t add up. This town isn’t that big. I’m surprised it can support three prostitutes. Why is he so intent on forcing you into the business?”

  “I was told the saloon will get busier with the bullwhackers hauling freight to Denver passing through.” Fancy’s words intruded on her mind. He wants you to talk to him, you tell him what he wants to know… “As for why he treats me this way, it’s a long story, Eustace. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

  Eustace poured more wine in his glass. He held the bottle toward Lorena. After she shook her head, he corked it and sat back in his chair. “I have you for the night, Lorena. I want to hear it.”

  Lorena told him in greater detail about her dealings with Clyde and his friendship with Timothy.

  Outside, the sun began to set.

  She told him about the detective hired by her father-in-law who was looking for Timothy and her and what she feared her father-in-law had planned. She explained how Clyde held it over her head.

  As the light inside the room dimmed, Eustace rose from his chair and lit her oil lamp. His hands fisted, he walked back to the table and tapped the surface several times with the knuckles of one hand. “So basically, what you are telling me is, you didn’t decide to turn to prostitution to earn the money you need to get away. To keep him from telling this detective you’re here, Clyde blackmailed you into this lifestyle.”

  Lorena squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away. “Doing this is not what I want, but I have my reasons why I cannot allow my father
-in-law to find me.” After a few seconds, she turned toward Eustace to gauge his reaction.

  Eustace stayed silent for several minutes as he stared over her head as if lost in thought. He again focused his gaze on Lorena and pointed at the table. “Do you want more of this food?”

  Lorena shook her head. “It was very thoughtful of you to bring it, but no, thank you.”

  “Since you did not seem particularly fond of the wine, may I get you something else you prefer to drink?”

  “I usually drink tea. I can get a pot from the kitchen and bring it up. Do you care for tea?”

  Eustace grimaced. “I prefer coffee.” He held out a hand. “Here, let me escort you down the stairs. You get your tea, and I’ll buy something from the bar. I don’t want you to go alone, though, because I don’t trust Clyde.” He waggled his fingers toward her head. “You might want to pin your hair up again before you go down there.”

  Lorena stepped behind her screen long enough to twist her hair in a bun and pin it. When she stepped back into the room, she saw he once again wore his coat. Her eyes widened as she watched Eustace remove a pistol from his jacket pocket and tuck it into the back waistband of his trousers. As she gathered up the used dishes to return to the kitchen, she averted her gaze. She felt guilty that she would be leaving them for Alma to wash. Then again, it was no different than when she washed dishes for the other three women when she had that job.

  Lorena held her skirt in one hand and the dishes with the other as they descended the stairs. When they reached the floor of the main saloon, she glanced up long enough to see Clyde watching them with a calculating gleam. As he walked toward them, she turned and started for the kitchen. Behind her, she heard him address Eustace.

  “I see she’s dressed in street clothes. Finished already, huh?”

  “None of your business, Clyde. She came down for tea, and I’m here to buy a shot of whiskey.”

  After pouring hot water in the pot and adding tea, Lorena put it in the basket with two sets of teacups and saucers. As she exited the kitchen, she almost bumped into Eustace returning through the back door. Eustace accepted the basket while she took the opportunity to visit the necessary. Once she returned, he offered Lorena his arm as they entered the main room of the saloon. Lorena waited at the foot of the stairs while Eustace collected the whiskey Al poured. Ignoring Clyde, she took Eustace’s arm, and they walked up the stairs.

  Once again in the room, Eustace locked the door.

  Lorena sucked in a breath and, eyes wide, stared at Eustace.

  Eustace turned and studied her. “I won’t hurt you, Lorena. I don’t want unwanted visitors.” He handed her the basket and crossed to the small table by her bed. He pushed the lamp to one side. “You can put the teapot here. I’m ready to sit on something softer than that small, wooden chair. Will you please close the curtains and let your hair down again?”

  While she did what Eustace requested, out of the corner of her eye, she watched him bring the chair he had been sitting on next to the bed. He took his coat off and rolled it before he tucked it at the head of the bed. He removed the pistol from his waistband, set it on the seat of the chair, tugged his boots off, and propped one of the pillows against his rolled coat and the rails of the iron bedstead.

  Lorena turned her gaze away. Now it begins. She heard the squeak of bedsprings. She returned her gaze in time to see him sitting on one side of the bed. He settled his back against the pillow and patted the other side of the mattress. “Come sit down, Lorena. I’ll hand your tea over to you.”

  “Let me strain some of the leaves out first, please.” Lorena did so and partially filled a cup. She removed her slippers and placed them in the dressing area. Then she slowly walked to the bed, propped her pillow against the headboard, and sat on the mattress next to Eustace. She left several inches of space between them and wondered if he would insist she scoot closer.

  “Here.”

  Lorena turned to find Eustace held her cup and saucer ready for her to take. The saucer in both of her hands, she watched him pick up his glass. He twisted toward the table and turned the lamp flame low enough to leave the room dimly lit.

  Eustace sipped his drink. “Something doesn’t make sense about what you told me, Lorena. Even if your father-in-law found you, what possible hold does he have on you? I understand why he might want to keep Timothy’s wife and child where he can manage their lives. But you are of age and a widow. You need not answer to any man.”

  Lorena sipped her tea. “True.” Like I legally did not have to answer to Timothy, but I could not get free of him. She told him about what her father-in-law did with Edward’s remains. “I’m afraid, if it suits his wishes, he will find a way to control me.”

  Again, Fancy’s words intruded her thoughts. …including all your secrets you aren’t ready to share with me. She turned her upper body toward Eustace. “Eustace, can I truly trust you to keep a confidence? My future happiness and the lives of others depend on your pledging silence.” She waited as Eustace studied her several seconds and slowly nodded.

  “You can. I promised that to you when I agreed to help you with the mail. Nothing about my commitment has changed.”

  Lorena rolled to sit with her back against her pillow once more. She closed her eyes. “I have a daughter. Timothy, not my late husband, fathered her.” Her saucer in one hand, she lifted her cup as if to take a sip. Instead, she stared down at the pool of liquid inside and swallowed down a sob. “Her name is Olivia. She’s almost nine months old now. I haven’t seen her since the first part of October.”

  Eustace leaned forward and craned his neck to study her. “That baby must not have been very old the last time you saw her.”

  Lorena shook her head. Her hands began to tremble. She set her saucer with its almost-empty cup on her lap while she pressed her palms to her face. “Timothy didn’t want her. When she was born, he took one look at her and said, ‘I already have a daughter. I need a son.’ From that point on, he barely paid her any attention.”

  Eustace reached over and took the cup off her lap. He set it on the chair seat next to his pistol. “Where is she now?”

  “I left her with my sister. In the weeks after her birth, Timothy was involved in finalizing the freighting venture. We traveled more than once between Atchison and Kansas City. Even though I begged him to, he refused to leave Olivia and me behind in a room somewhere.” She closed her eyes and pressed the back of her head against the iron bars of the bedstead. “I imagine he guessed—correctly—that once he was far enough away, I would take Olivia and as much money as I could get my hands on and flee. He would not allow that. He knew I was not the reason Edward and I never had children. He still expected me to bear him a son.”

  “Then, how did she end up at your sister’s?”

  “Once we started west with the freight wagons, he decided the baby was too much of a nuisance. He left the freight wagons long enough to take me to my sister’s home for me to leave Olivia so I could travel unimpeded with him. Fortunately, Olivia has a cousin who was born three months before she was. My sister was able to feed my daughter, too.”

  Eustace poured more hot tea into Lorena’s cup and handed it back. “I take it his intentions were to try to get you with child again, hoping this time for a son?”

  Lorena nodded and turned to Eustace. “You have no idea how hard it was to leave her behind. However, Timothy never left my side the day we were there. I dared not say much. I feared, if I tried to escape and go back to Olivia, he would follow through on his threat that, once he found us, he would give her to an orphanage.”

  “And now, Clyde is threatening you with telling the detective where she is in order to force you into prostitution.”

  “Yes.” Lorena stared at the far wall. “My first worry was that if my father-in-law found us, he would force us to live with him and keep us under his control. The more I thought about it, I realized that he would have no use for me. Since I bore Olivia out of wedlock, I would be an e
mbarrassment. If he decides he wants her because she is his granddaughter, it is more likely he will use his money and influence to have me declared an unfit mother.” Lorena’s gaze searched Eustace’s eyes. seeking to know what he truly thought and felt about her situation—about her. “I fear, if he ever finds out about her and takes her into his home, I’ll never see her again.”

  As he stared, the skin around Eustace’s eyes tightened. “Since Clyde has gotten what he wants from you, nothing will prevent him from telling that detective where your daughter is, especially if there is money for him involved. Even if Clyde doesn’t tell the man her location, if the detective figures out that she’s with your sister, he’ll find her.”

  Lorena yawned, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “She’s not there now. In the letter I just received, my sister said a neighbor warned her that a stranger with a northern accent was asking questions about Timothy. Since I’m Edward’s widow, he also asked about me. After that, my brother-in-law dug a grave next to a child they lost and carved a headboard for Olivia. Afterward, he and Arabella took my baby to friends of the family we knew from before my father was appointed to the church in Little Rock. Since that family has also moved from their original home, I don’t believe anyone will think to look for her there.” She glanced at Eustace to gauge his reaction.

  Staring in front of him, Eustace rubbed his chin. “So, she’s hidden away, for now. You only have to worry that someone will dig up that grave to see if she’s really there.”

  Lorena sucked in a breath. “Surely, no one would desecrate a grave.”

  Eustace huffed a sardonic laugh and shook his head. “Lorena, I’m happy you were isolated from the war enough you have been spared from seeing what people will do to the dead and the graves they are buried in. If your father-in-law is determined, it is possible this detective will try to exhume her, if for no other reason than because your father-in-law wishes to rebury her remains in the family plot where they put your husband. I advise you not to say anything about what your sister wrote, not even to your friends here in the saloon.”