Eleanor

by Rachel Wesson

  It had been a long time since Wilma had walked the streets of a big city. She’d forgotten the sheer number of people moving around. Everything was so much bigger, noisier, and if she was honest, more frightening than she remembered. She saw a small store and decided to look inside to see if she could find a small gift for Eliza Jane. She didn’t know the woman but she still didn’t want to arrive on her doorstep with nothing in her hand. As soon as she walked in, she knew she had made a mistake. Everyone turned to stare at her. The person she assumed to be the store owner, crossed his arms over his chest.

  “We don’t sell what you’re looking for.”

  “I think you are mistaken, sir, I see many items of interest to me,” Wilma responded sharply, although her knees were knocking.

  “I am not the one who is mistaken, girl.”

  The use of the slur made Wilma’s temper rise. She smiled sweetly at the man.

  “Thank you for the compliment. Tis many a year since I be called a young one. I will just take my time to pick out my gift for my friend.”

  She looked at some items on a stand close to the window, but her gaze caught the shocked look of the young maid, who had shown her to her room earlier, standing outside the store. She was holding a basket over her arm. She gestured at Wilma to come outside.

  Wilma didn’t want the owner to think he had got the better of her.

  “Thank you for your time but I see you are correct. You don’t stock the quality my friend would expect,” she said smiling sweetly as his face turned purple at her insult. “Good day.” She lifted her skirts and swept grandly out of the store leaving silence in her wake.

  “Ma’am, you going to get in trouble if you try shopping around here. They don’t like our sort.” Agitated, the young maid almost hauled Wilma down the street. She was walking so fast Wilma struggled to keep up with her.

  “But you are here,” Wilma stammered before stopping.

  “Yes, but they knows I work for the hotel. They don’t mind us being maids or other workers, but if they think we believe we are the same as them, they get angry.”

  “I ain’t scared,” Wilma protested.

  “Well, you should be.”

  “But slavery is over. We got our freedom and our equality,” Wilma argued stubbornly.

  “We got our freedom all right, but we ain’t got equality. Not yet. Maybe it will come in time but for the moment, I need to take you back to the hotel. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” Although the maid was speaking to her, her eyes were darting everywhere as if she expected an attack any second.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Annie, ma’am.”

  “You is very kind to think of my welfare, Annie.”

  “Ma’am, how did you get to dress so nice and stay in such places?” Annie asked in a whisper. “I don’t mean to be impertinent but that lady you’re with. She say she is your friend but she be white.”

  “She is my friend and I am proud to be hers. She worked on the Underground Railroad many years ago. Before you were even born. She is a special lady. As to your other question, my friends gave me this trip as a present.”

  “They is nice. I wish I had me friends like that.”

  “Annie, if you have people around you who love you, that’s all that matters. No amount of money can ever compensate for people who care. You remember that.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Wilma smiled at her gently. The young girl didn’t believe her, that much was obvious. But in time, she would learn the lesson the hard way. Suddenly feeling very tired, she walked quietly back with Annie to the hotel.

  “Thank you, dear. I am very sorry if I interfered with your work.”

  “It was a pleasure, ma’am. I can’t wait to tell my ma all about what you did at the store. That will make her laugh until her belly is sore.”

  Wilma returned to her room eager to avoid Lorena Grey spotting her. She’d had enough today without a lecture on top for not resting as she should. She lay on the bed but she couldn’t sleep. The Civil War had been over for years, yet things weren’t much better for her people. She’d read about the Ku Klux Klan in the South but hadn’t realized there were people up North who felt the same way. She’d forgotten so much of her life in the city. Clover Springs had nurtured and protected her, but it had almost made her forget about the reality of life for many of her people. What could she do to help people like Annie?

  Chapter 24

  Clover Springs

  Eleanor walked home in quiet contemplation. The first day had gone well. A couple of the children had tested her, none so openly as Master Shaw but she’d handled them well. If only Grace could see her now. Her best friend wouldn’t believe it. Eleanor wondered where Grace was. Her letters had been returned unopened but she didn’t, she couldn’t, believe her friend had forsaken her as well. Grace wasn’t like that but her mother was. Lady Devon behaved as if everyone was a thoroughbred horse. She knew the family history of most in their set. If she didn’t approve of someone she cut them dead. Everyone knew a snub from Lady Devon was the death knell of any chance of success in society. Lady Devon had always been really nice to her until her Grandmamma decided to tell everyone her background. After that, Lady Devon had insisted Grace stay away from her. Grace had sneaked out a couple of times before Eleanor left London but someone had spied on them and reported back. The result was a sudden tour of Europe for Grace—the season was over after all—and banishment from England for Eleanor. She’d been given a one-way ticket to America with a letter of introduction to Mrs. Gantley.

  She was so engrossed in her thoughts she walked into a man coming her way. She dropped her reticule in the process. Bending down to pick it up, his scent made her eyes water.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Templeton. My name is Charlie Staunton. You have two of my children in your class.”

  “Good afternoon. I have not yet learned the names of all my students, but I am sure they will be a pleasure to teach. I must…” her efforts to move away from him failed.

  “I am so glad we bumped into each other. I must say it is a pleasure to have someone such as yourself in Clover Springs. I would love to—”

  “Staunton, what are you doing gasbagging in the streets? You were supposed to meet me fifteen minutes ago. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  Eleanor knew the voice, it made the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up but not with fright. She sensed him coming closer. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so aware of a man.

  “Have you been drinking, Barrett? I didn’t have any such appointment,” Staunton protested.

  “Yes you did, you made it last night, but you were in your cups so perhaps you have forgotten.”

  Eleanor caught Gary’s wink and had to turn away. Mr. Staunton’s cheeks were reddening and his chest was pushed even further out. She thought he might burst his waistcoat.

  “Excuse me gentlemen you obviously have things to discuss. I must be on my way.” She walked as quickly as her clothes allowed ignoring the protests of Mr. Staunton. She’d recognized him as one of those who had been talking about her the other day. She didn’t want to get to know him any better. He reminded her of a few of her father’s friends who had a reputation for harassing single females.

  Gary watched her walk away. Had she had trouble at school? She looked so unhappy as she walked up the street. He wondered what was the truth behind her arriving in Clover Springs? He didn’t care about the facts for the sake of gossip but he hated people being unhappy. He’d seen enough hard times and unhappiness in the slums he’d grown up in back in London. His ma was always cheerful though, no matter what happened. Even when his father had been killed, she insisted on being thankful he had died outright and not of his injuries some days later. He hadn’t suffered any pain was her reasoning. It didn’t seem right to him as a boy. He had idolized his father and losing him had been the most painful thing to happen. But now he understood better why his mum had taken that approach. She
had to find a way to cope without the love of her life. She had a child to bring up. She couldn’t afford to stop living despite it being what she wanted.

  He wanted a love affair like his parents had. They were genuinely happy together despite not having much in the way of material goods. They’d known from the first time they met they were going to marry. So he believed in love at first sight. But while he might have feelings for Miss Eleanor, it was obvious she wasn’t ready for love. Not yet. Maybe never but certainly not until she let go of all the pain she was carrying inside her. Maybe she’d let him be her friend. Yeah and maybe the heavens would pour down gold coins instead of rain. What was he thinking? Women, particularly attractive, single young ladies, didn’t make friends with a man.

  He turned his attention back to Staunton who was still spluttering about not having a meeting.

  “My apologies, Mr. Staunton. Seems I was mistaken. Sorry for interfering with your day.”

  Gary tipped his hat at the outraged man before turning around and heading back to the saloon.

  Chapter 25

  Denver

  The next morning, Lorena Grey knocked at Wilma’s room. “I asked for breakfast to be served in here. I thought it might be easier than sitting in the dining room. It gives us a chance to chat in private.”

  Wilma wasn’t fooled. She knew her friend was trying to protect her and loved her for it. The slight unpleasantness at the hotel yesterday was nothing compared to what she had experienced in the shop, but Annie’s views had made her look at it in a new light. Racism was alive and well in Denver. She wasn’t hungry, and although she felt bad about wasting food, she couldn’t touch the breakfast.

  “I have rented us a small carriage. I thought it would be easier to drive over to Eliza Jane’s address rather than having to walk through the crowds.”

  Wilma sent Mrs. Grey a look. “You is acting on Doc Erin’s orders, ain’t ye?” she asked before adding “Isn’t that expensive?”

  “Not really. We are on vacation remember. It’s time to treat ourselves.”

  The young man Mrs. Grey had engaged to drive the carriage was smartly dressed and very polite. If he was taken aback at the address Mrs. Grey asked him to drive to, he didn’t show it. They sat in silence for which Wilma was thankful. She was thankful she’d been unable to eat breakfast earlier as her stomach roiled with nerves. Judging by the look in her friend’s face, she was just as nervous.

  They pulled up outside a small house, in a rather poor neighborhood. Wilma watched as the children came over to the carriage. They were all barefoot despite the relatively cold weather. She wished she had worn some of her old clothes rather than the gowns purchased for this trip. She exchanged a look with Mrs. Grey. This was it. This was where their questions would be answered.

  The driver assisted both of them out of the carriage.

  “Do you want me to wait here, ma’am?”

  “No thank you, go and have a break but please come back in two hours.”

  He tipped his hat to her.

  Mrs. Grey took Wilma’s arm. “I guess you are even more nervous than I am. We can prop each other up,” she whispered.

  Wilma saw someone had come out of the house. She guessed it to be Eliza Jane, although the girl didn’t greet them. They walked slowly up to the door.

  “You didn’t tell us you was white.”

  Before Wilma or Mrs. Grey could respond an older woman came out. “Jane Clara Brown, don’t you let me hear you being rude to our guests again. You was brought up better than that. Now get out of here.”

  The girl slinked away leaving the women feeling uncomfortable.

  “I is sorry for my girl. She has a heart full of anger. Please come inside.”

  “Thank you, Miss Brown,” Wilma replied. “My name is Wilma and this is my friend Mrs. Grey.”

  The lady nodded as she stood back to let them enter. Although small, it was kept scrupulously clean. Every surface looked as if it had been scrubbed down in anticipation of their visit, but Wilma had a feeling it always looked as smart.

  “You have a lovely home. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Wilma said quietly.

  “You are welcome. It’s a pity ma died as she is the one who knew the most. I helped her where I could but Clara knew everyone.”

  “We are sorry for your loss,” Wilma offered as Mrs. Grey seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

  “Please sit down. Sarah will bring us some coffee and cookies later. I thought you might want to speak in private first.”

  “You are very kind,” Wilma said giving Mrs. Grey a discrete kick.

  “Thank you so much for seeing us. I apologize. I am a bit overwhelmed,” Mrs. Grey murmured not sounding at all like her confident self. Wilma gave her a worried look but she was staring at her hands.

  “What can I do to help? Your letter was a bit vague on the details.”

  “My letter?” Wilma asked curiously.

  “I sent a letter to Miss Brown explaining what I knew of the circumstances, which wasn’t a lot.” Mrs. Grey looked at Miss Brown. “Although we have been friends for a long time, we haven’t always been completely honest with each other.”

  “Or ourselves,” Wilma piped up gripping Lorena’s hand. “I had a daughter. Solace was her name. Near the end of the war, in early eighteen sixty-four a group of Yankee soldiers came onto the plantation where we was slaves.”

  “They rescued you?”

  “Not really. They treated us much the same as the Southern boys had done. Solace’s best friend was one of the young men they started beating up. She went to his aid. They didn’t like that. So I…well, I was afraid for her so I struck one of them. It got their attention and I told Solace to run. I ain’t seen her since.”

  Wilma was speaking to her knees at this point in the story, tears falling down her cheeks. She didn’t notice Eliza getting up from her chair until she had taken her in her arms.

  “You mustn’t be upset. You gave your child a chance of freedom. Did they catch her? Was she killed?”

  “I don’t know. I was taken away that night and I never went back. I tried but, well, people warned me not to. They said things were worse in a lot of ways after the war ended. There were many angry people on both sides who blamed us.”

  “People still feel that way all these years later. As if we were to blame for wanting to live a free people. So you think Solace may have escaped with her man?”

  “I hope so but I can’t see how they could have. At that time, the South was crawling with soldiers. From what I could see, neither side cared much for us.

  “Some people did. I am sure, Mrs. Grey, you knew some people like you who obviously see us as equals.”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t always see you that way. I was born on a Southern plantation.” Mrs. Grey faltered as fear and anger crossed with curiosity in Eliza’s eyes.

  “My daddy owned lots of slaves. I used to think he was a good owner as he didn’t beat them or starve them. It wasn’t until I was a little older, I realized there wasn’t any such thing. He had families torn apart, keeping the male slaves for the fields and selling on the female slaves. I don’t know how many men were kept from their wives or mothers from their children. I let it happen too.” Mrs. Grey reached into her bag for a hanky. She tried to halt the flow of tears but couldn’t. Wilma was about to take her into her arms when Eliza beat her to it.

  “Mrs. Grey, I don’t know you but I knows you is a good person. You have feelings. You couldn’t do nothing with your daddy in charge. It wasn’t like you were a man. Nobody listens to women, doesn’t matter if they be black or white.”

  “Mrs. Grey worked with the Underground Railway,” Wilma added as Mrs. Grey tried to regain her composure. “She taught her daddy’s slaves to read and write. Then she helped them get free.”

  A sudden knocking at the door interrupted them. They all stared at the old man who pushed it open. Coming inside, his face lit up with the biggest smile Wilma had seen in a long time.


  “It is you. I knows you anywhere. Missy Lorena. You was my master’s little girl.”

  Mrs. Grey went white with shock as the old grey-haired man moved from the door toward her.

  “I thought my ole eyes were deceiving me but you are her, ain’t ye?” the man asked.

  Mrs. Grey nodded.

  “Do you remember me, Missy Lorena? I used to let you ride the horses. When the master wasn’t around. You used to call me—” The old man didn’t get to finish as Mrs. Grey interrupted him.

  “Sammy? Is it really you?”

  Wilma watched in surprise as Lorena practically threw herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it’s really you. You didn’t get caught. I was told you had been.”

  “No, Mr. David he was a real good man. He took me to the North. I didn’t go to Canada, I didn’t want to be in a different country. I lived in hiding until the war was over and I knew I could come home. Only I never got to go home as there wasn’t nothing there for me no more. My family was gone and nobody knew where you went. Did you run away with Mr. David?”

  “No, Sammy, I was stupid. I let him go without me.”

  “But why? You was in love with him and he with you.”

  “I was young and foolish,” Mrs. Grey sniffed. “I should have gone. My life would have been so different. David might be alive. I was so selfish.”

  “Aw, Missy Lorena, I don’t think you were ever that. You were always so kind. I owe you my life. You got to come meet my family. They wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Can you come?”

  Wilma smiled as Lorena looked at her for permission. “Off you go. I will be fine here with Eliza.”

  “Are you sure? I am supposed to be looking after you.”

  “Go on with you. I is fine. What could happen to me sitting here?” Wilma asked shooing Mrs. Grey out the door.