Mail Order Lorena

by Zina Abbott

  Again, Lorena yawned as she shook her head. “I don’t plan to. I hope I won’t be sorry I told you.”

  “You won’t be.” Eustace turned to face Lorena. He reached his hand over and ran the back of his fingers down the side of her face. “You’re getting tired.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to fall asleep on you. I’m so used to getting up early to work in the kitchen, I find it difficult to stay awake late like I have the last several nights.” She reached out her cup. “Let me have a little more tea, please. That should help.”

  Eustace shook his head. “Give me your cup and go undress. Put on whatever it is you normally wear to sleep in. Then come here and get in bed.”

  Lorena turned toward him. She wondered if she heard him correctly. She wore a neck-to-toe nightgown. Surely, he didn’t want her to put that on if he intended…

  Eustace motioned toward her privacy screen. “Go on, Lorena. I’ll still be here when you return.”

  Give him what he wants. Lorena did as Eustace asked, except she left her chemise and drawers on. If he told her to take them off, she would. Worried too much time had passed since she put in her first sponge, she changed to a fresh one.

  As she reentered the room and approached the bed, Eustace pulled aside the blankets and top sheet on the side where she had been sitting. He reached for her pillow and laid it flat on the mattress. “Lay down, Lorena.”

  Lorena did what Eustace told her to do. As soon as he tossed the covers over her and tucked them under her chin, she watched to see what he would do next.

  Eustace looked down at her and smiled. “Get comfortable and try to get some sleep.” He turned his back to her as he reached over and extinguished the lamp.

  In the darkness, Lorena felt her eyes grow heavy. Her lips barely formed her words. “What about you?”

  “I’ll join you shortly. Go to sleep.”

  Lorena turned on her side so she faced away from Eustace. It was how she used to sleep with Edward, who usually kept his body spooned against her back. The last thing she remembered was Eustace pulling her hair free of the blankets and using his fingers to rake it away from her neck.

  ~o0o~

  As Lorena opened her eyes, she felt awareness of her surroundings return slowly. She lifted her head and twisted her upper body to look behind her. She saw the gray light of dawn leak through the sides of the curtains into the room. She looked down at the place where Eustace had been sitting. The blankets were rumpled, but it did not appear he ever put them over him. The pillow rested flat at the head of the bed.

  Her lamp sat in the middle of her bedside table. The chair was returned to its place next to the table by the side window. The teapot and other dishes, including the basket, sat on her tabletop.

  His clothing and canvas tow sack were gone. The only sign Eustace had ever been in her room was the shot glass next to her teacup.

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  Chapter 15

  ~o0o~

  May 7, 1866

  A s Eustace walked back to the station, his anger kept him awake in spite of his lack of sleep.

  After Lorena sank into a deep slumber, Eustace sat on the other half of her bed for hours. While sipping cold, leftover tea, he mulled over what she told him. In the process, he struggled to figure out the motive behind Clyde choosing him for the special Sunday offer. One thing he did know—Clyde played him as much as he did Lorena.

  In the darkness of the room, he looked over at the woman he could barely see lying next to him. Her back, cushioned by a sheet and two blankets, pressed against his thigh. In her own way, she was enduring the same type of experiences he had as the war entered its final year. Her struggle had gone on for almost a year and a half, and she was losing her war. The worst part was, he had unwittingly joined forces with one of her enemies. Clyde intended to destroy her heart and soul by forcing her to submit, give up her freedom of choice, and live a life contrary to what she wished.

  He had paid but did not use her. The gritty part of him, the hold-over from his war years, castigated him for being a fool. The part of him that insisted he was still a gentleman sought to persuade him he had done the right thing. Especially, once he realized it was not her decision to turn to prostitution, but that she had been bullied into prostituting herself—blackmailed into it—he discovered his self-justification for paying for her services disappear.

  What tipped the scales was when the inkling of a suspicion entered his mind that it had not been an accident Clyde chose him to be the one to pull her down into a condition she only agreed to in an effort to protect her child—to protect her right and ability to one day reclaim that child and raise it.

  While still sitting on the bed, Eustace dozed for what he guessed to be a couple of hours. He awoke to a combination of discomfort in his back and neck due to how he slept and the tea working on his bladder.

  Easing off the mattress so he did not disturb Lorena, he pulled a curtain aside. Although still dark, he recognized morning would come soon. He lit the lamp and set it as low as possible, straightened the room, and redressed, all except for his boots.

  Eustace walked around the foot of the bed to reach the narrow space between the wall and the side where Lorena slept. He side-stepped until he stood close enough to her head to gaze down at her. Due to the lamp being on the table on the other side of the bed, the light illuminated the back of her hair while casting her face in shadow. He could tell by the way she breathed that deep sleep claimed her. He marveled that, considering the circumstances surrounding why he was in her room, she trusted him enough to completely relax. He remembered how, during the war, he had gone weeks at a time without allowing himself to fall into a deep, relaxed sleep for fear the enemy might sneak up on him and he would never wake again.

  He reached down and brushed back several locks of hair that threatened to cross each other and tangle as they draped across her cheek. He smiled at the realization that, if she had prepared for bed without him in the room, she probably would have brushed and braided her hair. He leaned over and softly kissed her cheek just below the outer corner of her eye. He straightened and backed away.

  Eustace picked up the canvas tow sack and hiked it over his shoulder. With his other hand, he picked up is boots. After extinguishing the flame in the lamp, he walked out of the room as quietly as possible and exited the building through the back door. Pausing only long enough to jam his feet into his boots, he took care of business at the outhouse and then headed down the alley in the direction that would take him to the station.

  As he walked, the same sense of helplessness descended that he experienced at times during the war…especially toward the end. Eustace and his men won a few skirmishes here and there but, with increasing regularity, he knew they would lose the big battles and, eventually, the war. He could do nothing to change things. He could only continue to fight for what he believed in until forced to surrender.

  His thoughts drifted to the new employees Isaac recently brought to the Ellsworth Station. One was a one-legged Yankee sharpshooter who claimed he had been hired to provide extra protection in addition to helping with the animals. Eustace quickly realized he had really followed the woman Isaac also brought, her job supposedly to help his wife. In truth, Isaac made the offer because he realized she and her infant were in a bind.

  Just like Lorena, the woman, Roslyn Welsh, was alone with a child and needed help. Unlike Isaac, Eustace had no place of his own to offer as refuge for Lorena and her daughter. He wanted to help her, but how? The realization of his powerlessness grated.

  Eustace entered the station grounds and headed toward the building where all the employees except the station manager’s family slept. As he looked around, he shook his head. What a luxury to live in and manage a station that, except for the stock pens, was open. The workers and guests could come and go freely. How unlike Ellsworth Station. From what the drivers who worked the west leg of the route told him, most of the
stations between Ellsworth until just before Denver were built like self-contained fortresses.

  Eustace reached the bunkhouse door just as a stock tender, his eyes still bleary with sleep and hair standing on end, walked out.

  “You’re back late. Maybe I should say early.”

  Unwilling to tolerate any good-natured ribbing, Eustace snarled his response. “Leave it be. Wake me in a couple of hours if I don’t get up on my own, will you?”

  The man raised his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean nothing. If you can sleep through the racket, I’ll wake you before breakfast is over.”

  “Make it after breakfast. Just ask Mrs. Owens to save me a hard egg sandwich.” Eustace shook his head. Why don’t we have chickens and a garden at Ellsworth? He had not been there long before he questioned why the space for a garden had not been included in the plans and the exterior wall expanded to allow for one. The land was good, and it wasn’t like a shortage of manure for fertilizer existed. He also knew, from talking to the drivers, that most stations had milk cows. Why not Ellsworth? Perhaps, with Ellsworth being a connector station between the east and west divisions and seeing twice as many coaches as the other stations, Isaac and Caroline had not wanted the extra work.

  Eustace shucked his boots and stretched out on an available bed. At least, thinking about the station got my mind off Lorena for a minute.

  The next thing he became aware of, Eustace popped awake with a clear plan of what he intended to do.

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  Chapter 16

  ~o0o~

  Salina, Kansas

  May 7, 1866

  E ustace strode into The Stockade Saloon and walked over to Clyde. “I’m here to go upstairs with Lorena.”

  As he folded his arms and widened his stance, Clyde studied Eustace. “It’s not Sunday, Mr. Cantrell. I’m not giving you the whole day with her.”

  Eustace shook his head. “I don’t want her for the whole day.” There’s a schedule to keep. “I won’t be that long.”

  Clyde offered him a sardonic grin. “She was that good you can’t stay away, huh? Well, glad to hear it. I have several customers anxious to try her out, starting tonight.”

  Eustace clenched his fists and forced them to stay at his sides. “I’m not interested in how you run your business, Clyde. Either send someone up to tell her I’m on my way, or I’ll go up myself.”

  Clyde turned to Fancy, who had walked to the end of the bar closest to the door that opened to the back. “Fancy, go tell Lorena to get down here. Tell her I want her in that red dress, not that feed sack she wore last night when she came downstairs for tea.”

  Fancy, already dressed for her work day, lazily turned toward the stairs. “Sure thing, sugar.”

  Eustace called after her. “And, Fancy? Tell her I better not find that corset tied in a tight knot like it was last night. If it is, I’ll slice the laces off her.”

  His eyes slits, Clyde turned to him with a grin. “Sounds like she gave you plenty to come back for.”

  ~o0o~

  Lorena flinched at the loud rap on the door. A glance at the clock on her dressing table told her it was not yet time to report downstairs to work. Besides, it was Monday, generally not that busy of a day. Suppressing a feeling of annoyance, she jerked open the door.

  Fancy, not Clyde, stood on the other side.

  Her upper arm resting on the doorjamb while her hand dangled above her feather and faux-jeweled hair ornament, Fancy offered Lorena a one-sided smirk. “Your presence is wanted downstairs, Lorena.”

  “Why is Clyde so anxious for me to start early? It’s not even a busy day.”

  “Clyde isn’t the one asking for you, sugar.” Fancy leaned back and glanced down the hallway. Then she stepped inside Lorena’s room. “Your Sunday-man is here.” Fancy shrugged one shoulder and grinned. “He’s waiting for you. Clyde said to get your red dress on and get down there.”

  Lorena’s heart jumped into her throat. Sunday-man? Eustace? “This early? I thought we don’t…”

  Fancy shut the door. “Come on, sugar. I’ll help you get in that corset so you don’t keep your man waiting.” She handed Lorena the undergarment and offered her a knowing look. “I don’t know what you did last night, sugar, but he must have liked it. To come back for you again so soon…? Um-um.”

  Lorena pressed her lips together. She dared not tell Fancy how her night with Eustace had turned out.

  Fancy slipped the loosely-laced corset over Lorena’s head. “Now, sugar, I’m pulling it barely tight enough for you to get that gown on without this peeking through the side slits. I’ll tie it in a nice, loose bow. Your man said if he had to fight the knot, he’d cut this off you.” Fancy gave her a knowing look. “I know we told you to keep it on, sugar, but it sounds like last night he had other ideas.”

  As Fancy helped guide the gown over her head, Lorena felt her heart race at the thought of seeing Eustace again. Perhaps he came back to finish what had not taken place the night before. As much as I want to be with him, why does it have to be like this?

  Once dressed and her hair twisted in a quick chignon, Lorena said not a word as she closed the door behind her and followed Fancy down the stairs. Halfway down, she bent her knees and dipped her head to see beneath the barrier created by the second-floor wall. There he stood, facing the stairs, one hand gripping the wrist of the arm that leaned on top of the bar.

  As she reached the first floor, Lorena watched Al pour whiskey in a shot glass and slide it toward Eustace. Today will be different. He bought a shot of whiskey instead of bringing a bottle of wine.

  “Only one hour today, Al.” Eustace turned and put money on the bar.

  Clyde stepped over to him. “You mean, you aren’t paying for the whole night? It will cost you more today, but I bet you have the money.”

  Eustace did not miss the sarcasm. He gave Clyde a gimlet eye and spoke with a corrosive edge to his voice. “I’m only paying for one hour with her, and then I need to get back to my job.”

  As happy as Lorena felt about seeing him again, upon hearing that he would spend only an hour with her, she felt a heaviness fill her chest. It meant she needed to be available for any other man who walked in that night and requested her. Still, an hour with him was better than with anyone else.

  “We’re getting busier now. You’ve only got half an hour.”

  Eustace slowly turned his head and upper body to study the entire room. “It doesn’t look busy to me, Clyde. All I see are two regulars nursing drinks and playing cards at the far table. Your other three women are wandering around twirling their thumbs.” He leaned in until his face was no farther than a few inches from Clyde’s. “I will be an hour, maybe less, but you will not disturb me until I am finished. You do, you will learn the hard way what my specialty was for surviving the war.” He nodded toward the money on the bar. “Money for both the drink and time with her is over there.”

  Lorena held her breath as Eustace stepped past Clyde and touched her elbow. Without checking to see if Clyde agreed, she turned and wordlessly led him up the stairs.

  ~o0o~

  After Eustace followed Lorena into the room, she turned and watched him lock the door.

  Expectantly, Lorena sought his face. She knew how the evening before went when he planned to stay the whole night. However, if he only paid for an hour, she chose to wait for his cue.

  As he studied her from head to toe, Eustace frowned. He flicked his fingers in the direction of her gown. “Get that whore’s dress off you, Lorena, and change into…” he paused and smirked. “Change into that gown you wore last night, only I think today you need to wear your usual unmentionables beneath it, not the corset you have on now.”

  Lorena blinked and stepped behind her privacy screen. She shook her head at the idea of Eustace discussing what underclothing she should wear. Not even Edward said much about how she dressed, and Timothy only concerned himself when he wanted her to get u
ndressed. And why does he want me to put a corset on? He only has an hour with me. She did not understand it, but she happily pulled the red gown over her head and pulled loose the corset laces. She changed into her white underthings and pulled the dress Eustace requested over her head before she buttoned it up the front. She quickly brushed out her hair and stepped into the room.

  Eustace walked up to her and picked up a strand of her hair. He studied it as he ran it between his finger and thumb until he reached the end. His gaze met hers, and he smiled. “You remembered that I like seeing you with your hair loose.”

  Lorena felt her gaze captured by the expressiveness of his eyes—eyes which, she now realized, were a deep gray. She sensed that more than seeing her hair down—he liked her. Her heartrate increased, as if trying to beat its way out of her chest. Longing for the man in front of her surged. If only I could be with him under different circumstances.

  Eustace dropped the lock and used the back of his hand to brush it behind her shoulder. “As beautiful as your hair is, Lorena, I need you to braid it or pin it up in a tight bun that will hold up to wind and being jostled around. I’m getting you out of here.”

  Unable to believe what she heard, Lorena’s mouth dropped open. She stammered as she gathered her wits. “But—but how? I don’t dare, Eustace. I told you last night what Clyde threatened to do if I didn’t do what he said. Besides, I –”

  Eustace cut her off. “Don’t worry about Clyde and what he might say to that detective. I’ll see he gives you the money he owes you, plus I’ll give you the rest of what I have with me which, granted, isn’t much.”

  “I-I can’t take your money. I –”

  Eustace cupped her face in his palms and pulled her toward him. “You can, and you will, just like you will get paid what Clyde owes you, including your share for spending last night with me. You will do it for your daughter, and you will do it because I don’t like the way he is treating you. You will do it because I have my own score to settle with Clyde. I won’t be played for a fool, Lorena, especially not by a former blue-belly like him.” Eustace leaned away, but still held her face. “Over the past months, he made it no secret that he didn’t fight for his country because he supported the Union’s cause. He robbed the dead and took advantage of foraging missions to line his own pockets.”