A Twisted Fate

by Amelia C. Adams

  Giselle reentered the kitchen. “Six plates of inferior chicken and dumplings, please.”

  Ruth loaded the tray, her eyebrow raised. “Another set of dissatisfied customers?”

  “It’s my own doing, really. My accident threw the whole schedule off.”

  “Things like that happen. Shake it off.” Ruth gave her an encouraging smile as she went on her way.

  The customers trickled out, the room became quiet, and Giselle was able to turn her attention back to the residual mess on the floor. Georgia had gotten most of the gravy earlier, and it was a simple matter of a few swipes with another rag, wet this time, to clear up the rest of the splatters.

  And she’d need to change her dress.

  She had just started up the staircase when Jesse called out to her from below. “Giselle? May I speak with you?”

  She motioned down to her dress. “I’m covered in food—I’d like to change first.”

  “All right. I’ll wait down here in the parlor.”

  As she changed, she realized that she was somewhat angry with him. But why should that be? He didn’t do anything wrong—he’d merely come into the dining room. Everything else that happened after that was entirely on her.

  Drat. She was turning into one of those ridiculous girls who got all fluttery whenever the man they liked came around.

  She rolled up her dress into a ball, washed her hands yet again, and headed down the stairs. She took a detour to put her dress with the laundry, then walked out into the parlor, pretending to be unruffled. Jesse came to his feet as soon as she entered the room.

  “Giselle, again, I’m so sorry.”

  She held up a hand. “It wasn’t your fault. Or maybe . . . maybe I should be honest and say that it was.”

  He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

  Sighing, she took a seat on one of the chairs next to the fireplace. The day was warm enough that the fire hadn’t been lit. “You keep inspiring me to tell the truth, so here we have even more of it. Yes, you do have that kind of power over me, I’m afraid. I was surprised and a little bit flattered that you came in to see me a day earlier than you’d said, and I became distracted. Now, of course, I realize that maybe you weren’t coming to see me at all—maybe you were just hungry.”

  He chuckled. “With the way Auntie Coral cooks, no, I wasn’t hungry. I was definitely coming to see you.” He sat on the chair across from hers and leaned in a little. “And for what it’s worth, you distract me too.”

  “All right, so we’ve determined that we distract each other. That’s good information to have.” Giselle sat back and regarded him, her hands trembling again. She was annoyed that she was so nervous. “What do you think we should do about it?”

  “Well, I think I should take you for a walk this evening and tomorrow as well. I’d like you to meet Auntie Coral—she’s a rascal, and you’ll hit it off immediately, I’m sure.”

  Giselle smiled. “She sounds wonderful.”

  “She is. So, what do you say?”

  “Tonight at eight? I’m not done until then—I’m sorry it takes me so long.”

  “Eight it is.”

  She glanced at the clock. “Oh! I’m sorry, but we have another train coming soon and I need to help get ready. Eight o’clock.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  She hurried into the dining room in time to start putting napkins on the tables. “I’m sorry,” she told the other girls. “I needed to speak with Mr. McVey for a minute. Or rather, I wanted to. It wasn’t a complete need, I confess.”

  Grace laughed right out loud. “Anything you’d care to report?”

  “Not at this time.” Giselle flicked Grace with a napkin as she walked past.

  Chapter Eight

  The cool evening breeze felt wonderful on Giselle’s face as she stepped out onto the hotel porch. “It was getting hot in there,” she said as she descended the steps, where Jesse stood waiting for her. “I don’t know how Sarah and Ruth stand it, working over the stove and oven all day. And in the summer, it’s so much worse.”

  “None of you have easy jobs, I’m sure,” Jesse replied, motioning her to take the lead down the walkway toward the gate.

  “I really shouldn’t complain. And yet, I think I will. The customers lately have been so rude! Well, not all of them. Just some. I’m getting testy, and I don’t know why.”

  “Maybe you need a change for a day.” He held open the gate, and they both passed through. “What would you think of coming out horseback riding with me? We could take a picnic.”

  “That would be wonderful, but until we hire more waitresses, I couldn’t take a day off. Hattie’s leaving tomorrow, and we’ll be even more shorthanded.”

  “I tell you what. As soon as those waitresses are hired, you say the word, and off we go.”

  “It’s a deal.” She held up a small bouquet of wildflowers. “I know you said Auntie Coral likes pansies, but I gathered these for her, if you think she’ll like them.”

  “She’ll love them.”

  Although they covered quite a lot of distance, making Giselle wonder briefly why they weren’t on horseback instead of walking, their trip did seem short as they talked. They turned right onto a pleasant tree-lined street, and Jesse gestured up ahead. “That’s Auntie Coral’s, the yellow house with the white trim. The brown house next to it is where I was born, and where I lived with my parents until my mother passed away.”

  “Who lives there now?” Giselle asked.

  “A family by the name of Banner. Their children are all old enough to marry, so some have left home and a few are still there. We’re acquainted, but I don’t know them very well.”

  Giselle had just opened her mouth to ask another question when she heard the whinny of a horse behind her, and the furious sound of galloping hooves. Jesse turned just in time to pull her out of the way, and then he called out, “Wait! Posy?”

  The rider wheeled the horse and came back around. “Jesse? Oh, Jesse. Please. They’re after me.”

  Giselle was surprised to see that Jesse knew this person, but was even more surprised to hear a girl’s voice coming from the rider.

  “Who’s after you?”

  “Men. With rifles.”

  Jesse looked up and down the street, then started running. “This way!” he called out.

  Giselle followed as he led horse and rider between two houses and into a large barn that stood several hundred yards away from the house. He latched the barn door behind everyone, lit a lamp that dangled from the ceiling, then helped the girl slide down from her mount.

  “Giselle, this is my sister, Posy.”

  “Hello, Posy.” The girl was simply beautiful, with long, dark hair done in two braids and eyes that were lighter brown that she expected. She wore a man’s shirt and breeches, and a hat—what was going on? “Where are we, Jesse?” she asked, deciding to start with an easy question. This place wasn’t one of the two Jesse had indicated before, places where he’d lived and might be welcome.

  “This is the Fergusons’. I work for Mr. Ferguson off and on. He never makes it back here to the barn anymore, and he’s been in bed for an hour.” Jesse led Posy over to a bale of hay and made her sit, then knelt in front of her. “Tell me why you’re here.”

  Posy nodded and took a long, shuddering breath. “Right after you left the other day, Will came and told Pa that he wanted to marry me and that Pa had no right to refuse him, because Pa’s white. He said that because I’m half Indian, I have to live by the Indian ways, and that his offer was made according to age-old custom. Pa said it was my choice to make, I said no, and Will got mad. Oh, he got mad, Jesse. He pulled out his hunting knife and waved in Pa’s face and told him it was too bad I didn’t have an Indian father because an Indian father would make me obey.”

  Giselle glanced around, spotted a horse blanket draped over a hook on the wall, and put it around Posy’s shoulders. Posy nodded her thanks and continued. “I don’t know why he wants to marry me whe
n he hates whites so much. But anyway, the next morning, he came again and brought gifts. He told me he was rich and could take care of me—he made all kinds of promises. I think he was trying to be nice, but it was a terrible attempt. I thanked him, told him no again, and . . .”

  “And what, Posy?” The muscles in Jesse’s jaw had been working furiously, and Giselle wondered how he could speak at all, with how tightly his teeth had been clenched.

  Posy took off her hat and turned her face to the single source of light in the barn, the lamp that cast only the faintest glow against the darkness of the building. Giselle shook her head when she saw the lump on Posy’s forehead, and a sick feeling overtook her.

  “He threw me to the ground, and I hit my head as I landed. He went on and on again about how I had no right to refuse. Then he said he’d be back the next day, and that if I hadn’t changed my mind, we’d have another little talk. Then he kicked me in the stomach and walked away.”

  Jesse came to his feet, whirled away from his sister, and clenched his fists. Giselle could see how hard he was fighting to stay calm. “Then what happened?” he asked, not turning back around.

  “I told Mother goodbye, put on some of Pa’s clothes, and left. I decided that coming here to be with you was my best option—I knew I’d be welcome, and I could start over. But the first night out, I heard some horses coming, and I decided to hide—I don’t know why, exactly, but this uncontrollable fear came over me and I pulled the horse into the trees. Well, these three men decided they liked the spot I’d chosen for the night and set up camp. I heard them talking about how an Indian named Will came riding up to their hunting grounds, told them about an Indian girl named Posy who had left the territory, and how they were going to take care of that.”

  “Aren’t Indians allowed to leave the territory?” Giselle asked.

  “It all depends on what you mean by ‘allowed,’” Jesse answered. “There are some folks who don’t like it at all, and would rather everyone just stay in their nice little boxes.” He turned to Posy. “Tell me more about these men.”

  “I heard them call each other by name—Jones, Griffin, and Green.”

  Jesse turned and kicked the wall. “I know Griffin,” he said, anger lacing each word. “He’s an Indian hater if there ever was one. Any excuse he could get his hands on to shoot one, he’d do it.”

  “How did you get away from them?” Giselle couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Posy had been hunted all the way from Oklahoma? She must have been absolutely terrified.

  “As soon as they were asleep, I led my horse out from the trees and we walked a short distance, then I mounted and rode like we were on fire. They must have followed my tracks, though, because just as I reached town, I saw them a ways behind me.”

  Jesse put his hand on Posy’s shoulder. “It’s all right. You’re safe now. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Can’t she stay with your aunt?” Giselle asked.

  “Well now, there’s a little problem with that,” Jesse said. “Griffin’s from Topeka. He knew me, and he knew I had a sister named Posy. I have no doubt that he’s going to come knocking on Auntie Coral’s door.”

  “Oh, no.” Giselle reached out and grasped one of the stall doors for support. How would the woman handle three angry men on her doorstep? Would they hurt her?

  “That’s why I brought you here,” Jesse continued.

  Giselle’s mind began to churn. There had to be a way . . . yes, that would work. “What if I take her home with me, and she works at the hotel? We’ll change her name. I’ll give her some of my dresses—I don’t have many, but we’ll make do. She’ll hide in plain sight. I’m convinced the Brodys would take her in.”

  Jesse looked at her, a furrow between his brows. “You’d do that?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  He studied her face for another moment. “All right. Let’s try it. But how will we get her to the hotel?”

  “I think we need to check on Auntie Coral first,” Giselle said. “Do you have a pistol?”

  “Of course.” He took a step toward the door, but Giselle put her hand on his arm.

  “You’re staying here with Posy. If Griffin’s out there, he’d spot you in a second.”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to check on Auntie Coral, of course.” She held out her hand. “May I borrow your pistol?”

  “You want to borrow my pistol? Giselle, this is crazy talk. Can you even use it?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll have you know that Mr. Brody teaches every single girl who works for him how to shoot, and I happen to be quite proficient.” She took the weapon from his outstretched hand, grinned at his look of astonishment, advised him to grab the pitchfork in case he needed to defend himself, and slipped out into the night.

  As she approached the house he’d identified as Auntie Coral’s, she heard a voice coming from the porch.

  “State your business, your name first.”

  “My name is Giselle Hardy, and I’ve come to pay you a visit, Auntie Coral.”

  She heard the creak of a rocking chair, then saw a shadow stand up and come into the moonlight. An older woman with snowy white hair looked her up and down, a rifle cradled in her arms.

  “Giselle, you said? Jesse’s friend?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Come in, come in. And quickly.”

  Giselle hurried up onto the porch and into the house. Auntie Coral followed her and locked the door behind them both.

  “Where is Jesse?”

  “He’s in a barn about three properties that way. And Posy’s with him.”

  “Posy? Oh, that sweet child. Why is she here? What’s going on?”

  Giselle related everything she’d been told. Auntie Coral’s face was grim.

  “Why people can’t leave other people alone is beyond me,” she muttered. “You’ve never met a kinder girl in your life than that one. I was heartbroken when they moved—just glad Jesse’s still around to keep me company.” She straightened. “Well, I’m sure you can guess that those three ruffians paid me a call—I don’t always greet my visitors with my rifle.”

  “I didn’t imagine that you do,” Giselle replied. “What happened?”

  “They knocked on my door—well, pounded on it, really—and demanded to know if I had any Indians in the house. I told them no, and I didn’t have any Italians or New Yorkers either. They decided they’d come in and have a little look around, and I raised my rifle and told them no. They didn’t realize that pounding on my door at nine o’clock at night only makes me angry, and I’d come prepared.”

  Giselle couldn’t help but smile at this woman’s spunk. She never would have expected it, and that made it all the more delightful.

  “Good for you, Auntie Coral.” She paused. “Or maybe I shouldn’t call you that, but it occurs to me that I don’t know what else to call you.”

  The woman smiled. “Never you mind, my dear. You may call me that all you like.”

  Giselle then outlined the plan to take Posy over to the hotel, and Auntie Coral approved. “That way, I can come over tomorrow and visit her without arousing suspicion,” she said.

  “I’m sure she’d love to see you. I just have one question—may I borrow a dress? She’s wearing her father’s clothes at the moment.”

  Auntie Coral raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she disappeared into a back room and returned with a dress. “It’s going to drown her, I’m afraid. She’s such a slight thing, and I’ve enjoyed a few too many cakes and pies in my time.”

  “It will be perfect. Thank you, and I’ll return it as soon as I can.”

  Giselle bid the woman goodnight, promised to be careful, and slipped back out to the quiet of the barn.

  Chapter Nine

  Jesse was so angry, it was all he could do to stay calm. How dare Griffin chase his little sister down like she was some kind of prey? That man was so filled with his own sense of superiority, it
was sickening. All Jesse could do was be thankful that Posy had made it here safely. There must have been angels watching her journey.

  Posy had curled up on the straw and was asleep. Sweat beaded her forehead, even though it wasn’t hot in the barn, and he could imagine how exhausted she must be.

  Now he was worried about Giselle. Dang woman—she’d insisted on checking on Auntie Coral, and he’d been too dumbfounded to argue. One minute, she’s fainting at the sight of blood—but not human blood. Oh, no. That didn’t bother her at all, apparently. And now she was walking around in the dark with his pistol? What kind of jumbled-up ball of contradictions was she, anyway?

  At last he saw her shadow slipping toward the barn, and he let her in. Her face was flushed as she looked up at him.

  “She’s just fine. The men came to her house, but she scared them off with her rifle.”

  Jesse laughed. “That’s just like her. Thank you for checking on her, Giselle. I confess, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea.”

  “Because you knew your aunt could take care of herself?”

  “That, and because I wasn’t sure you could. But I can see how wrong I was.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m glad you can admit it.”

  “I may be pretty stubborn, but yes, I know when I’m beat. What’s that?” He nodded down at a bundle she was carrying.

  “A dress and some food for your sister.”

  “Great idea. The sooner we get her over to the hotel, the better—any later, and we’ll look suspicious out on the streets.”

  Giselle shook her head. “You’re not coming with us.”

  “What? Come on—you can’t expect me to let you take off on your own, at night, when there are dangerous men out there.” Infuriating woman. He wasn’t the only stubborn person in that barn.

  She put a hand on her hip. “Mr. McVey, please allow me to point out a few things. First of all, did I or did I not explain that I can handle a gun? And isn’t it true that these men know you by sight and will notice if you’re walking around town with an Indian girl in tow? If Posy and I walk over together, all anyone will see is two girls out for a late-evening stroll. Her skin is pale enough and her features are nondescript enough that she could be taken for a white girl with black hair, or perhaps Mexican, and that’s how we’re going to keep her safe. You’ve got to trust me, Jesse.”