Out of Innocence

by Adelaide McLeod

  “Then why, dear? Don’t you get lonesome over there all alone?”

  “I’ve got me children and me dogs. I’m quite content. I like it the way it is, no complications.”

  “It’s not what I mean. Don’t you sometimes yearn to have a man in your bed?”

  Belle rolled her eyes and threw a look at Colleen. She’d not discuss that. “It’s not safe being on your spread all alone,” Colleen said.

  “I’ve got my rifle, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Belle, you’re soft as a marshmallow and tough as jerky.” Colleen laughed.

  That’s the way it was with Belle and everyone in the canyon had to accept it. There’d be no man in Belle’s life. She was only twenty years old and the three men who had meant the most to her were dead. They’d all be alive if it hadn’t been for her. First Tommy, then Ben and now Harlow. Belle was hexed; she was sure of it. A primeval force was at work and she couldn’t escape. It flowed into her veins from the veins of her ancestors dating back to the Druids. She must be a descendant of a Celtic sorceress. She was bad blood. She was doomed to live her life out without a man.

  Samuel Thompson was back in Belle’s parlor. Not easily dissuaded, he kept a close eye on Belle’s livestock business and on Belle.

  “There’s a box social over at the Dougals’, Belle. I’d be honored if you’ll go with me.” For a moment she was tempted but only for a moment.

  “Sam, give up on me. We’ve been over this ground before.”

  Sam’s smile told her he had no intention of giving up. By the time Sam was on his horse, the hills had turned violet.

  Low-hanging mist, halfway down the mountain, hung like tulle that softens a fine lady’s hat.

  A horn was tooting, and a touring automobile with big wheels and shiny red body sputtered into the barnyard. Belle didn’t recognize any of the five people who jumped down from it as the driver turned off the motor. What did they want? Belle walked down to the gate. They were city folks. Their clothes gave them away. The women wore shirtwaists with high pleated necks and leg-o-mutton sleeves. The men were dressed in suits with stiff starched collars, and patent-leather shoes.

  “Can I help ye?” Belle asked.

  “Belle! Don’t you know me?” a demure blond with short-bobbed hair asked.

  “Flo? Is that you, Flo?” It was the hair and something more. She looked like she just stepped out of a page in a lady’s fashion magazine, chic and lovely.

  “Of course it’s me, silly.” Flo laughed her boisterous laugh as they hugged. Flo looked different, but underneath she was the same old Flo.

  “I heard about Harlow. I’m so sorry, honey. Still can’t believe it. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Belle assured her.

  Flo stood next to a blond fellow with a thin, well-groomed mustache. She wound her fingers around his arm. “I told you she was pretty, didn’t I?”

  “That was an understatement,” he said, smiling at Belle.

  “You’re embarrassing me. Come on up and I’ll fix something to eat,” Belle said.

  “These are my friends, Belle. Nathan, Roger, Richard and this is Emily. I won’t bother you with last names just now because you won’t remember them anyway. Where are the babies?”

  “They’re not babies any more. T.J. is going on five and Hannah’s four. They’re napping, or supposed to be.”

  “How time flies. It seems like only yesterday we were at the Silver--” Flo stopped in her tracks. Whatever Flo had told her friends about her past, it didn’t include her former profession. “The silver screen . . . you know, the celluloid dramas.”

  Flo picked up T.J. from his bed and brought him into the parlor. “Wake up, you sleepy head. Auntie Flo has come to see you. You were a tiny baby when I last saw you. You’re going to be a heartbreaker. Remember me?” Flo asked as she hugged him.

  T.J. smiled at her and curled up on the fainting couch and closed his eyes again. “He’s a love,” Flo said.

  “He looks just like my brother, Tommy. He’s such a good boy, Flo,” Belle said as the two women exchanged knowing smiles.

  Flo went back after Hannah. “Look at this doll-baby,” Flo said. “What gorgeous silky dark red hair.”

  “I thought she was going to be bald for the longest time. I’d have been happy enough if it came in purple. It’s like my sister Meg’s, and my mother’s,” Belle said.

  “Richard’s just come back from the war,” Flo said, tapping the cane that he was using to support himself.

  “It’s only temporary. I’ll be able to throw this away before long.” Richard was tall and lean and too young-looking to be a veteran of any war. The military cut on his blond hair was still obvious. He was sharp featured, angular, and his eyes were intent on Belle. But Nathan was the one that peaked Belle’s interest. She wanted to know about his Overland parked down in the barnyard. He was more than willing to talk about it. He was a Jewish boy, with warm dark eyes and full lips that he pursed together in a captivating way. He was a junior member of a law firm.

  It was obvious that Roger and Emily were madly in love. They were so intent on each other it was as though no one else was there. Belle thought of Ben and how he’d once been like that. Emily worked with Flo at the Golden Rule Department Store and Roger was for the moment unemployed.

  “Come on, Belle. I’ll take you for a spin,” Nathan urged. Belle was willing. They left the rest sitting on the porch sipping Belle’s homemade grape juice while they drove up over the hillside onto a game trail.

  “Could I drive?” Belle pleaded, looking at Nathan with her big blue eyes. Nathan hesitated and then slid Belle under the wheel. He sat close so he could operate the brake. He wasn’t about to completely relinquish the wheel, either. Belle laughed with the excitement of it, until they abruptly sank into Sand Creek as they tried to cross it. Nathan was back under the wheel and Belle directed him as the car sank deep, deeper into the soggy soil.

  “Look what I’ve done to your beautiful automobile. I’m so sorry,” Belle moaned.

  “It’s all right. We’ll get out of this, somehow.”

  “I know, I’ll go get the Clydesdales.”

  “You’ve got Clydesdales? What do you do with them?”

  “Not much anymore. They belonged to my late husband; they’re just hayburners now,” she said as they walked down to the barn. It wasn’t a great feat for the Clydesdales. They pulled the Overland free so easily, effortlessly, Belle remembered how Harlow had used them to pull cottonwood stumps out of the barnyard. Belle was behind the wheel again as she heard herself saying to Nathan, “I want to buy an automobile.”

  Nathan looked a little amused. “You’re a lady of quick decisions.”

  “I know, but I’m serious. Where does one go to buy an Overland?”

  “Come down to Boise, and I’ll help you. There are a lot of choices these days when it comes to buying an automobile. There’s the Pierce Arrow, Packard, Oldsmobile, Austin, Duesenberg, Buick, Overland, Mercer, Stutz, Model T Ford and lots more. You’ll need several days to decide.”

  “That sounds too confusing. Besides, I can’t leave the ranch for long. Why did you buy the Overland?”

  “Well, it wasn’t because it was the best buy. To be honest, if I were going to do it again, I’d look hard at the Stutz. It’s a four cylinder with a T-head engine, sixty horse power and it will go eighty miles an hour. It’s a great little car.”

  “I don’t want to go through all that. All I want to do is buy an automobile. What’s the best buy?”

  “I’d have to say Henry Ford’s Model T--the Tin Lizzy. It’s a dandy rig--not fancy, though. Henry Ford mass produces his autos on an assembly line while no one else does, so his cars cost less.”

  “Sounds like the perfect machine for me. I’ll have to see Sam Thompson about selling the Clydesdales and then I’ll come down.” Belle was excited with the whole idea. She could picture herself behind the wheel, free as a breeze. She wouldn’t mind seeing Nathan again, e
ither. With her resolve concerning men, it surprised her that she felt this way. There was something about that man.

  A few days later, after depositing her children with Colleen and Gracie, Belle drove her hack to Horseshoe Bend, met with Sam Thompson about the Clydesdales and then with her business accomplished, she boarded the stage.

  It was August 10th, 1920. Boise was a bustling town. As people walked by, she nodded and smiled and gentlemen tipped their hats to her. There were shops, grocery stores, banks and office buildings and the beautiful State Capitol building. She followed the stage driver’s directions to Nathan’s law office. It was impressive with its walls lined with leather-bound books and a life-sized bust of Ben Franklin perched between leather chairs. The gold lettering on the glass door and the shiny brass spittoon that sat against the leg of the largest chair were impressive.

  “Have you ever been to Chinatown?” Nathan asked.

  “No. The fact is, I’ve not been to Boise until today.”

  “Then I’ll take you there for lunch. Would you like that?” he asked as he donned his hat and opened the door for Belle.

  “I would love that, Nathan.”

  As they walked along the street, Nathan guided Belle as he told her how his law firm did the majority of the Chinese community’s legal work. “They are secretive people who keep to themselves, and care for their own. It’s amazing how little they seem to live on. The street we’re crossing, right under our feet, right here,” he emphasized, “is riddled with tunnels that they built during the Tong wars.”

  “Really? That’s fascinating. Have you seen them?”

  “No, but there are those who have. I’ve heard there are opium dens hidden in the underground passages. A white woman was seen wandering into the district alone at night, never to return. There are those who say they have seen her, after dark sitting alone on a balcony smoking a pipe. I don’t know how true it is.

  “I’m in the process of anglicizing Louie Hoy Wong’s name right now. In China it is their custom to tack their mother’s maiden name on the end after their given name and their surname. Backwards from the way we do things. It causes all sorts of confusion in the courts, especially when it comes to inheritance. Common sense tells you that the surname should be the last name. I anglicize every chance I get.”

  “Don’t the Chinese resent having you change the names they have carried all their lives?”

  “I never thought about it that way. If they are going to live in our country, they had better learn to live by our rules. Right?”

  Once in the Chinese Tea Garden, Nathan seemed even more arrogant than Belle had already realized. It annoyed her the way he snapped his fingers to get the waiter’s attention and then talked down to him. Maybe that was merely the way people in the city acted. Belle tried to smile at the old Chinese man who bobbed his head in greeting as he came in quick little steps and stood at their table. He was careful to keep his eyes lowered and not look directly at Belle. Nathan ordered for both of them.

  “So how long have you been practicing law?” Belle asked.

  "Almost a year now. It has gone well, but I’ve been thinking about leaving Boise and going somewhere where I can be more independent.”

  “Why can’t you do that here?”

  “I could I guess, if my parents would leave me alone. How old were you when your parents quit running your life?” he asked.

  “I’ve been gone from home since I was fifteen. My mother died when I was nine. As for running my life, my father left little room for questioning our obligation to the family name. Yet he was a very wise man and I’ve come to appreciate why he was so strict. I believe that is what parents are meant to be.”

  “But this is different. I’m not fifteen and they’re still trying to call the shots. My life is all about living up to their expectations.”

  “I see."

  “You can’t understand,” he said as he fidgeted in his chair. "Their expectations and my plans for the future are at odds. They are good people but their ideas are old-fashioned.”

  “In what way?” Belle asked.

  “What I’m trying to say is there is too much tradition among my people. Everything is about tradition. Nothing else matters.”

  “Oh, well that’s something different. I guess I don’t understand.”

  “Well, forget it! I don’t want to bore you. Come on, let’s go buy your Model T. We can talk about this later.” Nathan bought a tin of candied ginger as he paid the check and then he took Belle by the arm and guided her out of the restaurant.

  “The food was delicious, Nathan. Really good, thank you.”

  At the livery stable where the Model T was displayed, Belle sat in the machine, walked around it, admiring it as Nathan talked to the proprietor. She could hear Nathan negotiating in her behalf. Then he took Belle aside, lowered his voice and asked her if she had seven hundred dollars. She pulled the bills from her pocketbook and handed them to him, who in turn, handed them to the owner. He’d saved her fifty dollars.

  After a few false starts, Belle drove her new Tin Lizzy around the block without a problem. “I hate to leave you, Belle, but I’m going to be late for an appointment,” Nathan said.

  “Let me drive you back to your office.”

  “Wonderful. Do you think you can drive up to your ranch alone? If you want to wait until after five, I could go with you,” Nathan said.

  “But then how would we get you back to Boise? No, I can do it. Don’t you worry. I have to learn sometime.”

  Nathan gave Belle a peck on the cheek and waved as he jumped from the running board before Belle had a chance to stop. “Be careful. Don’t get carried away with all that horsepower,” he said as he waved again.

  Belle needed to talk to Flo at the Golden Rule. She wanted to know more about this young attorney and she was puzzled about what he was trying to tell her. She found Flo in the Ready-to-Wear department surrounded by beautiful dresses. Belle had never seen anything like them.

  “Where’s Nathan? I thought the two of you were having lunch,” Flo said as she hung a dress on a hanger.

  “We had lunch, but then he had to go back to work. He had an appointment. “

  “Belle, did Nathan talk to you? Did he tell you he is Jewish?”

  “No, but I thought he might be. What about it?”

  “Well, you’re not. His parents have made it clear to him that he can’t marry a gentile. They’ve talked about sending him to New York or Boston to find a bride. Nathan’s really upset but he’s afraid to go against his parents’ wishes.”

  “I’ve no thoughts of marrying him, Flo. I hardly know him. I just liked his Overland. Well, I’ll admit it, I like him, too. Oh, so that is what he was trying to tell me.”

  “Nathan is really infatuated with you. You’re all he’s talked about since that day up at your ranch.”

  “This is for naught. I wouldn’t marry Nathan anyway. I don’t intend to marry again,” Belle said.

  “Talk sense, sweet cheeks. You sound like your life is over. You’ve barely begun.” Flo straightened a rack of dresses.

  Belle changed the subject. They talked about her new Tin Lizzy, parked in the street, and Flo showed Belle a duster that ladies of fashion wear when they go driving in a touring car.

  “Oh, Belle, you’ve got to see this new gown that just came in from New York. It’s a dream.” Flo took Belle’s hand and led her back to the pressing room in the rear of the store. “Just look at this, Belle. When it came in, I thought of you.” Flo held the gown up in front of her. It was turquoise chiffon, with a dropped waist that would just touch the hips and then flow like flower petals to an uneven hemline below the knees.

  “It’s you, Belle. It’s perfect.”

  “I’ll try it on. I’ve never had a store-bought dress, Flo. I don’t know. It’s so short, almost indecent.”

  “Phew! It’s all the rage. Of course, you have to buy silk stockings and dancing slippers to complete the ensemble.”

  Belle
put it on. She was startled when she looked in the mirror but then the idea of a “new look” took root and grew. If she was going to drive a Tin Lizzy, she could wear a dress like this. “But where would I wear it?”

  “Get the gown, Belle. It will put a party in your future. When Nathan invites you down for some gala affair, you’ll be all set.”

  “Flo, you have a good eye. I love this gown.”

  “Then, you’re buying it?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve spent a lot of money today. More than I ever have in my whole life. Am I going daft?”

  “It’s time you were good to yourself, Belle.”

  Belle headed for Horseshoe Bend in her roadster, wearing her stylish driving duster, goggles and a helmet where she’d pinned a full-blown rose. Her strawberry blond hair flared out from under it and flew in the wind. As she reached the steeper switchbacks above Spring Valley, the radiator began to steam and the engine wouldn’t pull. Belle had no idea what to do. She thought of looking at the engine but she knew absolutely nothing about automobiles. She sat there studying the silver sagebrush, the chamois-colored hills, sat there in the summer heat and unearthed new appreciation for her horses. They’d never let her down like this. What she’d give for those muscular Clydesdales right then.