by Lucy Evanson
Linda and Tess started to giggle as Cora’s cheeks grew red. She dropped the catalog onto the floor and started walking up the aisle as there was more whispering behind her, followed by a burst of laughter from Mrs. Gray.
Once out on the street, she started walking quickly, stomping across the raised sidewalk and trying to leave the store as far behind as possible. The nerve of that woman! Or rather, those women! Like she couldn’t get a dress made somewhere else. There was always…well, come to think of it, there weren’t any places that Cora could remember at the moment. No matter. If I have to, I’ll go to Dodgeville. Nobody knows me there.
It was times like these when she sorely missed having some friends. There were a few girls she knew, girls who would probably be at one of the bars already, but she certainly wasn’t going to chance that. If she was already taking heat for wearing a low-cut dress, she couldn’t imagine what Emma and her friends would say if she were seen heading into a saloon alone.
There’s always Nathan. The thought made her smile. I guess I really am desperate if I want to talk to my husband. Still, it might not be a bad idea. She hadn’t seen him in a couple of days, and although she was already expecting that she’d need to loan him more money, it would be nice to see him. The ride home from Dodgeville had been cold and depressing, as she’d stewed about Emma’s threats all the way back to Mineral Point, but Nathan had not given up trying to bring her into conversation. It had been annoying at the time, and she’d snapped at him perhaps more than he deserved, but in retrospect she appreciated his efforts.
At the end of a day when he’d learned that he wouldn’t be getting the payout he’d expected—at least, not yet—Nathan had still kept his spirits high. Of course, he hadn’t heard the worst of what Emma had said, but still, it was something to admire. You had to appreciate a person who could find that silver lining; it wasn’t a talent that everybody had.
Cora turned sharply and passed through the alley that ran alongside Gray’s. Once in back of the store, she walked over a few blocks and started down Elm Street. She had never stayed at Nathan’s rooming house, but she had a general idea of where it was, and after walking for a few minutes she found the place.
Cora went up the gravel path to knock on the door. In a moment there was a rattle from the doorknob, as if somebody were struggling to open up, and finally a tiny old woman appeared as the door swung open.
“Good afternoon,” Cora said. “Is Nathan here?”
“Nathan? No, he’s been gone since early this morning,” the woman said. “I don’t expect him back until the evening.”
“Oh, I see…well, could you just tell him his, uh…tell him that Cora stopped by,” she said.
“Cora,” the woman repeated. “I’ll let him know.” She closed the door and Cora slowly crossed the yard back to the street.
She started out walking back toward Main Street, though she got turned around a little bit before she caught sight of the clock tower and was able to orient herself. Cora turned back onto Elm and was on her way when she passed a small shop that had a dress hanging in the window. A wooden sign reading “Becky’s Boutique” hung over the door.
Cora approached and took a closer look at the dress on display. It wasn’t her taste—the fabric, a soft pink cotton, was a little too flowery for her. But looking past the dress into the shop, she could see bolts of colorful fabric displayed on shelves that lined the walls. Tall mirrors stood in every corner, and a long rack across from the door held several dresses that had paper tags pinned to their sleeves. She could see a young woman behind the counter, leaning over a piece of fabric as she quickly worked a needle along a seam. Cora headed for the door and went inside.
“Good afternoon,” the woman called as Cora stepped in. She glanced up from her stitching and her eyes grew wide. “Why, Miss Rice, this is a surprise!” she said. “How have you been?”
Cora couldn’t help but stare at her. She was dressed simply and had her hair drawn back in a ponytail tied with a sky-blue ribbon. She was cute in a plain sort of way, and quite a bit younger, perhaps only eighteen or nineteen. She didn’t look familiar in the slightest, however.
“Do I know you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the girl said, coming out from behind the counter and thrusting out her hand. “I’m Becky Taylor. I met you a few years ago when you came to dinner out at Taylor Farm. You were with Mr. Carter.”
Cora couldn’t contain the startled expression that leaped onto her face. “That was a long time ago,” she muttered.
“Yeah, time flies, doesn’t it? So what can I help you with today?”
Cora raised a hand and rubbed her forehead. If it’s not one thing, it’s another, she thought. The mention of Carter’s name brought up a lot of memories, not all of them good. Still, if she wanted a dress she was going to have to take what she could get. “I was actually interested in having a dress made.”
“Terrific,” Becky said. “I have a pattern book here you can look at,” she said, reaching under the counter.
“I’m going to go out of my mind if I spend any more time looking at dress patterns,” Cora said. “Look, I just need something plain. Something boring. Something like what you’re wearing.”
Becky looked down at her clothes. “Something boring, huh?”
“Oh, come on, don’t take it like that,” Cora said. She let the shawl fall from her shoulders. “Look, I have one other dress pretty much like this one, but now I need something more…well, respectable. Like a married woman would wear.”
Becky slowly nodded as she looked Cora up and down. “If you were serious about my dress, how about you pick out a color you like and I’ll make you one just like it, then?”
Cora eyed Becky’s dress more closely. “Yeah, I think that would be fine,” she said.
“And you know, I’m having a sale right now—if you buy two, the second one’s half-price.”
“Really? How long would it take?”
“I can have them both ready for you in a week.”
Cora’s eyes narrowed. “Are you joking?”
“No, why?”
“Mrs. Gray said that it would take her twice as long just to make one.”
“I’m sure she was telling the truth,” Becky said. “It would take her two weeks for one.” She couldn’t conceal a hint of a smile.
“Sounds like you know what you’re talking about.”
Becky waved her arm toward the rack of dresses. “These are for women who used to have Mrs. Gray make their dresses,” she said. “Business has been good.”
“All right,” Cora said. “Let’s do this, then.”
Becky waved Cora back behind the counter. “Why don’t you come on back here, and I’ll take your measurements.”
As Becky’s tape measure snaked around her, Cora looked over at the bolts of fabric that filled the shelves. Plenty of colors; I’m sure I’ll be able to find something nice. She glanced around. The shop was clean, bright and warm. Cora took a deep breath and felt herself become calmer than she had since her lunch had ended so abruptly. One day at a time, she reminded herself. One day at a time.
It was turning out to be a hell of a week. Nathan still couldn’t think about things without a smile breaking onto his face. The house had been amazing—almost too nice to live in, like a museum or something. And the land was perfect—acres of rolling hills with nary a fence nor neighbor in sight. Even now, sitting on the edge of his bed at the rooming house, he could imagine racing down the long, low slope atop a galloping horse, clods of dirt kicking up as he went.
Granted, the chances of that actually happening seemed to be pretty slim at this point. Cora had barely spoken to him on the ride home, and when she had said anything, it had been clear that her mind was on other business. But then, perhaps she’d been upset by her cousin. That wouldn’t be hard to imagine; Emma had seemed like the kind of woman who regularly upset other people. Still, he had managed to get a quick smile or two out of Cora in the end, even if getting
a word out of her was like pulling teeth.
Just because they were married, it didn’t mean that she had to talk to him, he supposed. Hell, he knew lots of married people who didn’t talk to each other; why would they be any different? Still, though, it was fun to think about things as if they were in a real marriage. The kiss they had shared had been brief—too brief—and awkward. But he could still remember the feel of her lips against his and the curve of her hips under his hands. If he hadn’t had an audience looking on there, with that justice of the peace and his assistant, who knows how things might have ended up?
His stomach gurgled, as if in argument. Well, maybe Cora wouldn’t have let things go very far at all. He got out of bed and was already dressed when he heard Mrs. Grady start ringing the cowbell as she climbed the stairs. Nathan could hear the grumbles and groans of the other tenants while she walked up and down the hall with her bell, and he pulled out his watch to check the time. Eight on the dot. He shouldn’t have doubted her punctuality.
A scrap of paper had fallen to the floor when he’d pulled out his watch, and Nathan bent down to retrieve it. He unfolded it and again read Mrs. Grady’s neat penmanship. A young woman named Cora called for you. Nathan had been too busy to go see her since Cora had stopped by, but the fact that she had come to see him had put a smile on his face. Still did, in fact.
Nathan dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the handful of coins that Cora had lent him the last time he’d seen her. He spread them out on top of his bureau and counted them carefully. Two dollars and forty cents. He had hated having to take money from her, but she had forced a few bucks on him. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have eaten if it hadn’t been for her loan, but it still had made him feel like a heel taking her money.
He scooped the coins into his hand and dropped them back in his pocket before turning to the mirror. A man shouldn’t have to take money from a woman, even if she were his wife. Still, by Saturday he’d be able to pay her back, and they’d be even again. The thought was kind of funny: he felt bad about borrowing a few dollars from her when he’d be taking ten thousand in just a few months. He watched his own brow furrow in the mirror. It was funny in a particularly unfunny way.
But a deal was a deal. Getting paid for taking part in this was one thing; she wouldn’t even be getting any money if it weren’t for him. But a loan was something else, and ever since she’d given it to him, it had been bothering him like an itch he just couldn’t reach. He’d spent hours in his room that night, turning his thoughts over and over, and he’d finally decided that things were different now. They may have been married in name only, but he wasn’t going to be the kind of husband who lived off his wife’s savings.
Nathan put his shoulders back, thrust out his chest, and straightened his collar. When he was sure he looked presentable, he put on his jacket and went downstairs, quickly passing by the kitchen while trying to ignore the smell of fresh bread wafting through the hall. The money in his pocket had to last until Saturday evening, and it certainly wasn’t going to if he spent it every time he felt a little hungry.
The weather had turned cold now; the frost-edged grass crunched under his feet as he quickly crossed the yard and started down the street. Nathan turned up his collar and pulled his hat lower as the wind rushed against him. It was a short walk, but nevertheless he was chilled all the way though by the time he reached the Point Plaza and hurried up the steps.
“Morning, Jenny,” Nathan said to the receptionist as he stepped behind the desk and went into the office. Mr. Gates was at the desk, looking over a ledger, and raised his head as Nathan stepped inside.
“Good morning,” Gates said. “Ready for another day?”
Nathan hung up his coat and donned his uniform jacket. “Ready and willing, sir.”
Chapter 8
It all happened so quickly that she didn’t realize at first what was going on. One second she was walking along, lost in thought as she mentally counted and recounted the amount left in her emergency fund, and the next second her purse had been ripped from her arm and a boy was racing away from her.
Cora stood there stunned, unable to even shout after him, looking down at herself as if she were mistaken and she had somehow still retained her purse. She hadn’t, of course; it was making a rapid getaway along with the thief. He was dressed entirely in brown, and Cora noticed the almost shockingly bright blond hair that stuck out from under his hat as he ran.
“Hey, you! Stop, boy!” she heard somebody shout, and she turned to see a very heavy man rumbling toward her. As he passed her, she caught a whiff of him: old smoke and beer. He smelled like the floor of a saloon.
He was also puffing like a train engine as he went, and although Cora would have said that any help was better than none, she didn’t see much of a difference at this point. The man plodded ahead, but the boy dashed around a corner into an alley as the man shouted at him again.
Cora gathered up the hem of her dress and started after him too. I’ve got to get that back, she thought. There was nine dollars in the bottom of the purse that she’d earmarked for a new cloak; the mild weather they’d been enjoying had disappeared in the last few days and Cora had finally surrendered to the elements. She hated having to dip into her savings again, but the frost built up on her window every morning had convinced her that she needed to have something more substantial to protect against the cold. The only reason she’d been out that morning in the first place was to go see what was available at Gray’s, and as she hurried along she was now trying to imagine how much a purse would cost as well.
The raised sidewalk ended at the edge of the feed store, and Cora watched the fat man descend the steps and turn the corner into the alley. When she reached the steps and started down herself, he reappeared. Cora’s purse was in his hand.
“Guess he got scared,” the man said. “He threw this down and ran away.” He handed the purse to Cora, who quickly opened it and looked inside. Everything was there, including her money. “Oh, thank God,” she muttered. “And thank you. I never would have caught up to him.”
“No problem, Miss….”
“Rice. Cora Rice.”
“Miss Rice,” he said. “Good to meet you.” He stuck out a huge hand, rough and callused, and Cora shook hands quickly. “I’m Arthur Drake. You can call me Artie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Artie.”
“So where were you off to this morning?”
“Just the general store,” Cora said. “I guess I’ll be on my way, then—now that you got my purse back, I can still do my shopping. Thanks again.” She smiled and turned to go.
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I’ll walk with you,” Drake said. “I’m kind of new in town and just learning my way around. Plus, you can never tell if that boy’s going to try something again,” he added, glancing around. “You wouldn’t mind a walking companion, would you?”
“Well, no, I guess not,” Cora said, and she pointed up the street. “The store’s just up here.”
As they walked, Drake’s head swiveled back and forth as he looked at the businesses that lined Main Street. “Pretty little town you got here,” he said. “Are you from Mineral Point?”
“Yes, I am,” Cora said. “Born and raised. What brings you here, Artie?”
“Work,” he said. Drake was still breathing heavily as they went. “So, you still live with your parents?”
She glanced over at him, and he smiled, revealing a glimpse of a gold tooth.
“No, I live by myself,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
“Just making small talk,” Drake said. “I thought you might recommend a place for me to stay.”
“Oh, yeah…well, I’m afraid I can’t,” she said. “There are plenty of boarding houses in town, though. They’re all pretty much the same, I’d say.”
“So which one do you stay at?”
She stopped walking and turned to face him. For the first time, she really studied him. From his physique to his clothing, Drake s
eemed to be the kind of man who really didn’t care how he looked. She had noticed immediately that he was a heavy man, of course, but now she was getting the finer details. He seemed to have let himself go years earlier and it didn’t appear to bother him at all. His jacket fit him so tightly that the fabric had spread apart between the buttons, revealing his shirt, and his pant cuffs swung freely high above his ankles. He hadn’t shaved in days, apparently, and his eyes had the same red tinge that hers got after too many late nights in the saloon. A brown crust of dried tobacco juice curled at the corner of his mouth.
The nerve of this guy, Cora thought. Does me a little favor and now he expects something in return. Just goes to show you, men are all the same. “Now why would you need to know where I live?”
He flashed his gold tooth again. “Oh, don’t take it like that, now,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just stop by to see you some time. You know, just to talk.”
“Mr. Drake, thanks again for everything you did back there,” Cora said. “You’re a lifesaver. But I’m a married woman.”
“Oh, you are? So what does Mr. Rice do, then?”
“Actually it’s Mr. Booker,” she said. “And he’s—”
“Mr. Booker? I thought you said your name was Rice.”
“That’s my maiden name,” she said. “I’m still getting used to the idea of being married, I guess. Good day, now.” Cora turned and started back up the street toward the store, but she hadn’t taken two steps when his huge hand was on her arm, holding her fast.
“So you and your husband live together, then?” It seemed as if his eyes had suddenly lit up from within.
“Well…of course,” Cora said. “What husband and wife don’t live together?” Her throat had become very dry. His fingers were like steel bands wrapped around her arm, and she felt a dull ache where she’d broken the bone so many years earlier.
“That’s a good question,” he said, then slowly released her arm. “You have a good day, Cora. I’ll see you later.”
