The man stopped writing and stared at Angeline in earnest. Several women in the crowd dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs, while their men stared down at their feet and shifted uncomfortably.
“The Lord made us all,” Angeline continued. “Who are we to condemn that which He created? You, Sir, report the news with the critical eye of one who has seen many things and perhaps has seen too much. You have lost in your sense of vision what it is to feel the heartfelt sorrow of the people around you. We are not seeking to thrust you from your place. We are merely asking to join you there. We are asking you to be proud of your women—your wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters. If we lack wisdom and education, then teach us. If we lack courage, then bolster us with your own, but don’t turn us away as though you were ashamed. Not a single man here can boast of an entry into this world without the assistance of a woman. We are now asking for the return of that favor in assisting us into the world. We are asking for the right to vote.”
For several minutes, no one said anything. There were sniffling sounds that were heard, then the sound of a solitary pair of hands clapping, then two, then a dozen, then a hundred. Willa smiled and gave her protégée a hearty pat on the back before nodding to Douglas. Angeline Monroe would be a bigger asset than even Willa Neal had imagined.
Chapter 8
It was as though that one small speech had somehow justified Angeline’s existence in Willa Neal’s eyes. She beheld the girl with a new respect and the fervent, driving knowledge that Angeline just might get them voting rights in New Mexico.
The papers that ran the following morning were plastered with front page photographs of Angeline Monroe. Her speech was recited, almost word for word, and the article citing it listed Angeline as a remarkable and clear-minded suffragette.
Willa was thrilled at the coverage. They often had to pay out precious money to get the kind of newspaper attention that Angeline’s one, heartfelt outburst had surged. She pored over the stories and the multiple requests which had started arriving as early as six that morning, for interviews with Angeline Monroe.
Further evidence came in the form of flowers and cards from the political connections whom Angeline had invited to the speech. Willa read one card after another, noting the dates and times of invitations to dinners, small parties and teas. She intended to work the situation to her benefit no matter the consumption of Angeline’s time and energies.
The one bit of attention that Willa would not tolerate came from the more conservative suffragists who sought to have Angeline join their cause instead of Willa’s more militant one.
Willa refused to even admit these women into the hotel suite, and Angeline couldn’t help but wonder what the real threat might be. Willa passed it off as unimportant, however, and insisted Angeline read a speech that had been given by Alice Paul several years earlier and not concern herself with the merits of the less passionate.
❧
Angeline, herself, loved the attention. Used to the limelight, she was once again thrust front and center, and it was everything she’d hoped it would be. A surprising sideline came to her in the form of Douglas’s ardent regard.
Angeline enjoyed Douglas’s pampering, but her heart nagged at her and reminded her that Gavin was at home in Bandelero, waiting for her. But I never committed myself to him, Angeline thought. In fact, I told him that I wasn’t interested in marriage. She reminded herself of this at least twenty times a day, for all the good it did.
When Willa announced they were moving on to the next city, Angeline was a bit taken aback. She hadn’t thought of how far she was drifting from home and the people she loved until Willa pointed out that they would be traveling for several weeks. Guilty at the thought of her parents’ suffering because of her disappearance, Angeline suggested to Willa that she write or telegraph them, but Willa quickly dismissed the idea.
“They won’t understand, and they’ll only insist that you come home,” Willa replied. Angeline nodded in acquiescence, but felt a terrible lump in her throat at the thought of her parents worrying over her.
❧
Two days later, Angeline found herself sitting to the far side of the stage, where Willa, front and center, urged the people of the small town to see the merits of women’s suffrage. This town was much smaller than Santa Fe and far less progressive in its thinking. Many of the men and women gathered there were natives to the area and cared little for the ideals behind voting when they were worried about water for their crops and animals.
Angeline was amazed at the crowd’s seeming indifference, but even more amazing was the way that this indifference changed to anger at one simple statement made by Willa.
“I have seen the treatment of animals in this country and deemed it better than that of women,” she announced in a heated fury.
“Animals are our life’s blood,” a man yelled from the murmuring crowd.
Willa shook her raised fist, and Angeline felt herself cower against the hard wooden chair. She didn’t much care for this side of Willa. “Women gave you life, not those animals you pamper to market.”
This created quite a stir in the gathering and, before Angeline realized what was happening, there were angry shouts and rocks being thrown at Willa.
Staring in dumbstruck silence, Angeline watched as several men approached the stage. They were shouting and cursing about Willa’s inability to understand their plight. It wouldn’t be learned until days later that several boxcars filled with sheep headed to market had derailed and consequently pushed more than one of the local families into financial ruin.
Angeline came to her feet at the sight of the first dissenter coming on stage. She backed up against the edge, not knowing what would happen next, fearful that she would be unable to protect herself from the rushing crowd.
Glancing around into the inky shadows of full night, Angeline began to pray as never before. “Please God,” she whispered, “please help me.”
Utter pandemonium broke out after that, and the stage was rushed with Willa being safely spirited off in the opposite direction of where Angeline stood. Without warning, Angeline felt herself being lifted and thrown heavily against the broad shoulders of a stranger. She fought for all she was worth, kicking, screaming, and beating at the man’s back, but nothing could stop him.
The man pushed through the crowds, leaving the dissenters behind to tear up the stage and suffrage banners. He wormed his way through new arrivals who were clearly endowed with false courage from the assistance of the local saloon. When her captor started to run, Angeline felt the wind knock from her as her mid-section slammed against his shoulder again and again.
“Dear God,” she breathed aloud, feeling herself grow faint.
Then as quickly as it had begun, it ended. The man stopped, glanced around, and opened the small wooden door that entered a tiny adobe building.
He had to stoop to get through the doorway, but once inside, he straightened back up and pulled Angeline down into his arms.
Angeline kept her eyes closed tightly. Partially because she was afraid to see her captor and partially because her head was spinning.
“Hi, Angel,” the stern, but familiar voice called out, as Gavin Lucas cradled her to his chest.
Angeline’s eyes flew open and a small gasp escaped her lips before she threw her arms around Gavin’s neck and squealed his name.
“Gavin! I’m so happy to see you. I thought I was going to die back there!”
“You very well could have. Those people weren’t a bit happy with your cause.” He said the word in such a snide way that Angeline immediately took offense.
“They just don’t understand,” she began. “They don’t see the necessity of women being allowed to choose their representation in government.” She wound down a bit and looked around the room. “Where are we?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Gavin replied. “I looked in the window and saw the place was empty and figured I needed to check you out and see if you were all rig
ht. Are you?” His expression was one of sober consideration, while his eyes traveled the length of Angeline’s simple white shirtwaist and blue serge skirt.
Angeline noted that her suffrage ribbon had somehow been torn from her and was probably beneath the muddy boots of the town’s male population. Otherwise, she felt fine now that she could breathe. “I’m perfectly well,” she finally answered.
“Good.” Gavin’s voice still sounded rather indifferent. “We’d better get out of here and get back to the hotel.”
“You’re staying at the hotel?” Angeline questioned. “Why are you here, Gavin?” she pressed without giving him a chance to answer her first question.
Gavin opened the door and peered down the alleyway in each direction. He motioned her to the door with his finger pressed to his lips to insure her silence.
Angeline was never good at keeping quiet, however. Especially when she wanted answers to important questions. She stared up at the handsome face of the man who claimed to love her and whispered, “Why?”
Gavin looked down at her as though she’d asked the stupidest question possible. “Why do you think?” he replied softly and pulled her into the shrouding darkness.
Angeline didn’t like leaving the lighted room, but she liked the idea of awaiting the return of an angry owner even less. She allowed Gavin to pull her along until they approached the main street and saw that at least twenty or thirty angry men still surrounded the front doors to the hotel.
“Come on,” Gavin growled in a barely audible voice. He pushed Angeline toward the end of the boardwalk and ended up pulling her into the livery at the edge of town before he’d allow her to rest.
“What in the world is wrong with you, Gavin Lucas?”
“Me? You think there’s something wrong with me?” His voice was indignant.
“Yes,” Angeline began, but Gavin wouldn’t hear any more.
“I came here because your mother and father are sick with worry and grief about your well-being. I’ve followed you from Santa Fe and tried a hundred times to get close enough to talk to you, but you have more watchdogs than prime herd of beef on its way to market.” Angeline started to respond to his reference but closed her mouth quickly at the look of warning Gavin gave her.
“I nearly get killed in that crowd just to save your scrawny, ungrateful neck, and you have the audacity to ask me why I came here?”
Angeline was quite taken back at this side of Gavin. She knew him to be quite serious and decidedly dedicated to his loved ones, but she’d never seen him this mad. “I’m. . .I’m. . .” she wanted the words to be just right, but they wouldn’t come together.
“You’re what?” Gavin asked her as if he thought her reply might actually be important.
“I’m sorry.” Angeline finally managed to say. “I never meant to hurt my folks, but the cause is important.”
“You and your causes!” Gavin exclaimed in disgust. “Your cause got a little out of hand tonight, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t expect it to result in a fight,” Angeline admitted, taking a seat on a nearby bale of straw.
Just then the livery keeper entered from outside. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know I had company. Sorry to keep you waiting, but it seems we had a bit of excitement at the hotel tonight.”
“No problem,” Gavin replied and nodded, toward Angeline. “I had a bit of excitement tonight, myself.”
The man looked at Angeline, nodded, and gave Gavin a sly wink. “I’ll be out back if you need me, but I suppose you won’t.” Then the man left as though it were perfectly normal to find two strangers arguing in his livery.
Angeline jerked herself upright and glared at Gavin. “I’ll not have you besmirch my reputation by implying that you and I, that we, that we. . .” She blushed furiously and fell silent.
“That we what? That we raced through the streets, fighting to save our own necks?”
Angeline stomped her foot, unable to unleash enough words at once to tell Gavin Lucas just what she thought of him. “Go home, Gavin,” she finally uttered and turned to walk toward the door.
Gavin spun her around and pulled her into his arms. “They’re using you, Angel. I’ve heard the way they talk behind your back. I’ve been following them, remember? They just want to use you until you can’t help them anymore.”
Angeline pushed against Gavin and, to her surprise, he released her. “Mind your own business, Gavin.”
“You are my business, Angel,” he replied softly. “I intend to marry you or did you forget that?”
Angeline tried to sound self-confident when she laughed. “It’s immaterial what you intend. The cause needs me, and I intend to fight for women’s suffrage in any way I can. It’s a cause worth fighting for.”
“Is it a cause worth dying for?”
Gavin’s words seemed to hit some deeply buried reality in Angeline, but she hated to yield that conquest to him. “I’m not sure any cause is worth dying for,” she replied honestly. “At least, I’m not sure I’ve found a cause worth that to me.”
Gavin stepped forward and reached out to her. When Angeline didn’t refuse his touch, Gavin pulled her close. “What about God, Angel? Where does God fit into your cause?”
“Why do you ask that?” Angeline whispered, staring deep into Gavin’s smoky blue eyes.
“You were sure calling on Him for help a little while ago. I was just wondering how He figures into your plans for the future. Or does He have a place in your plans?”
The spell was broken, and once again Angeline pushed away and headed for the door. “He has a much more secure position than you do, Mr. Lucas.” The words were delivered with stilted exasperation. Lifting her chin defiantly, Angeline continued, “Now if you don’t mind, I intend to return to my hotel room. I’m quite exhausted.”
Chapter 9
Gavin left Angeline at the door to her hotel room and went downstairs to make plans for going back to Bandelero. He figured he had more than enough money to get them home, but he had no idea of how he was going to convince Angel to go, short of hog-tying her and throwing her over his shoulder. Laughing to himself, Gavin thought even that plan had its merits.
❧
Inside her room, Angeline tiptoed to avoid disturbing Willa, but the woman had incredible hearing and quickly came to investigate.
“Angeline! Where have you been? I was worried that you’d been hurt in the unrest.”
“Unrest? Is that what you call that riot of out-of-control rock slingers?” Angeline shook her head. “I’ve never seen people like that, Willa. There was no reasoning with them at all.”
Willa’s brown hair hung in a loose braid down her back, and when she smiled at Angeline’s statement, she was almost attractive. Angeline couldn’t help but think that with just a little makeup and the right clothes, Willa could actually be beautiful.
“You’re smiling at me,” Angeline sighed in exasperation. “You were nearly killed and you’re smiling?”
“I’m smiling because this entire ordeal was mild compared to what we saw in Washington D.C. in years past. Angeline, you are young and innocent. It is hard for you to realize that things worth fighting for often come at a high price.” Willa paused and looked around the room. “Did you read those speeches I gave you? The ones given by Alice Paul and Lucy Burns?” Angeline nodded with a shudder. Willa smiled patiently. “It wasn’t a pretty picture that they painted about the treatment of suffragettes in England, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Angeline recalled. “I found it deplorable that one human being could treat another in such a fashion.”
Willa looked thoughtful for a moment. “Those women believed in the cause of suffrage so strongly that they starved themselves in massive hunger strikes. The public was enraged, shocked, surprised, and concerned. The feelings ran from the extremes of wanting to put these women in insane asylums to the sympathetic desires of those who understood their plight.”
“But they forced them to eat,” A
ngeline said with disgust, then shook her head. “No, it couldn’t be called eating. They ran tubes down their throats to their stomachs. I could never have imagined such actions possible.”
“They are, and even worse things than these have been endured by our sister suffragettes.”
Angeline put her hand to her head. The entire evening had been too much for her. “I need to go to bed.”
Willa watched her carefully for a moment. “How did you escape the crowd? Did Douglas find you?”
“No, I never saw Douglas. A friend of the family, someone my parents sent to find me, did just that and rescued me as the stage was overrun.”
Willa frowned at this news, glad that Angeline had already turned to walk towards her door. “A friend? Did he sympathize with the cause?”
Angeline laughed. “No, Gavin Lucas only sympathizes with his own causes. The main one of which seems to be his desire to marry me.” Without another word to consider the situation, she left Willa.
❧
Willa stared at the closed door of Angeline’s room for several minutes before quickly going to her own room to dress. She had to get to Douglas and see what could be done to discourage this Gavin Lucas character. She couldn’t lose Angeline now. Not when there was so much at stake.
Forty-five minutes later, Douglas Baker finished counting out several dollars to each of three scruffy looking characters. Men could be bought easily in the small town and getting what he needed had been no trouble at all.
“You understand,” Douglas stated before turning to leave, “I don’t want him killed. I just want him too busy with his own problems to stick his nose in ours.” The men nodded and watched the well-dressed man disappear down the alleyway. Looking at each other and sensing that the time to earn their ill-gotten pay was at hand, the men took off in the opposite direction.
Tracie Peterson - [New Mexico Sunset 03] Page 6
