Golden State Brides

by Keli Gwyn

  Caleb McBride.

  In the same square as Doctor Bates’s, Mr. & Mrs. Weeks’s, Natalie’s, and Meghan’s.

  There could be no mistaking Meghan’s intent. Where every other square bore four names, one in each corner, this square bore six. Meghan had embroidered Caleb’s name just under hers.

  They would rise or fall together.

  And from the glare in Mrs. Gregory’s eyes, it would be a spectacular fall.

  She and Natalie found seats near the quilt and not too near the front. “I want to be able to make an escape if they come after me with torches and pitchforks.” Meghan tried to make a joke, but it fell flat.

  “Doc should be here soon.” Natalie fussed with her handkerchief, twisting it into a knotted mess.

  “Did you see him? Did he say how Caleb was?” All week her thoughts had centered on Caleb, praying he was recovering, hoping Doc would come to the hotel, eyeing the calendar waiting for her next half day off so she could at least go to Caleb and apologize face-to-face.

  “Shh, they’re starting.”

  This time it was the mayor of Needles who made the introductions as people settled into their seats. Jenny Ralston slid into the chair next to Meghan and bumped shoulders.

  “Did you do it?” Her whisper carried at least three rows back.

  “Shh. Yes.”

  “Girl, you are either really brave or really stupid.”

  At the moment, Meghan felt more the latter than the former.

  Mr. Gibson stood and moved to the podium as applause rippled through the group. His florid face glistened in the evening heat. Someone grunted behind her and nudged her chair. Meghan glanced over her shoulder. A black-clad matron leaned forward. “How could you?”

  In an instant Meghan recognized her. She was the woman who had given Caleb the white chicken feather. A shiver raced across Meghan’s shoulders, and she turned to face the front. She knotted her fingers in her lap, pressing her knees together to stop them from quivering.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming out tonight. I hope you’ve brought your generosity as well. We have a fine lineup of items for the auction.” Mr. Gibson yielded the podium to the auctioneer for the night, Mr. Stock.

  The hotel manager, thinner than ever after his bout with the flu, smiled and held up the first item, a hand-crocheted dresser scarf. “What’s my bid for this fine piece?”

  The bidding began sluggishly, and Meghan kept her eyes on her hands. As the auctioneer worked his way around the perimeter of the balcony, the tension in the room grew. Or was it just the tension in her own middle?

  Jenny bid for a couple of small items, but neither Natalie or Meghan raised their hands. Finally, Mr. Stock approached the quilt. Meghan raised her chin and took a deep breath. The way Mr. Stock tugged at his collar, he acted as if Mrs. Gregory herself were holding the leash. He darted a glance at the head waitress as if to ask what to do.

  Mr. Gibson stepped in. “I’m so pleased with this fine quilt. When Miss Thorson declared her intention of tackling such a large project by herself, I had my doubts.” He lifted the quilt and motioned for a man on the end of a row to come help him hold it up for all to see. “Look at this. Every square filled. I see some familiar names here. Mrs. Gregory, Mr. Stock, Mr. Claypool.” He nodded in the direction of Needles’s most prominent businessman. “And some very famous names as well. Charlie Chaplin and Mary Pickford? And the distinguished Mr. Ford Harvey. Surely such wonderful additions to the quilt add greatly to its value. I can’t wait to see how much money such a beautiful item will bring in. Proceed, Mr. Stock.”

  A ripple went through the room and through Meghan’s body. Though she tried to take deep breaths, all her air crowded into the tops of her lungs and didn’t satisfy her need for oxygen at all. This was it. Her final, glorious stand at the El Garces Hotel.

  Mr. Stock cleared his throat. Meghan dared a look at some of the faces in the crowd. The hard eyes and pinched lips boded no good.

  “What’s my opening bid for this quilt?” His voice squeaked a bit, and he modulated it.

  Silence.

  “Shall we open the bidding at one hundred dollars?”

  Nothing.

  Heat rushed into Meghan’s cheeks. Several women smirked and crossed their arms. Mrs. Gregory’s lips flattened.

  “Shall we say, fifty?” A hint of pleading tinged the question.

  The night breeze riffled the palm leaves just over the balcony rail, the only sound in the room. Hot tears burned the backs of Meghan’s eyes, but she blinked hard, refusing to let on how much she hurt inside. If Caleb could bear this town’s disapproval and scorn, she could, too. Natalie reached over and patted her arm.

  Mr. Gibson frowned and tugged at his moustache. “Not a single bid? For this fine quilt?” His frown deepened, and he sought Meghan’s face.

  “Five hundred.” A deep voice from near the staircase had every head turning.

  Meghan’s heart jumped right up to her throat and stayed there. That was the voice that filled her dreams, a voice she would know anywhere.

  Her eyes met Caleb’s, and her mouth went dry. Intense, locked on hers, and challenging her to rise to the occasion. She could only see him from the waist up as the people seated between them blocked her view. It was all she could do not to run straight to him, to throw her arms around his neck and beg his forgiveness for judging him so unfairly, to express her thankfulness that he’d come tonight, and above all, her shock at him bidding on the quilt.

  Step, clank, step, clank. He came toward her.

  A murmur started in the back—gasps, grunts, questioning tones.

  Step, clank, step, clank.

  The tears she had fought now won the war and tumbled over her lashes as he came into full view.

  He was wearing his leg brace, the one Doc said he refused to ever wear again. Wide buckles held it to his thigh, knee, and ankle, and a steel frame ran down each side and under his boot. He ignored the reactions around him, making a beeline for Meghan. Jenny scooted out of her chair and into an empty one in the row ahead, turning to stare along with everyone else.

  Without taking his eyes from Meghan, he spoke again. “I believe the bid was five hundred dollars, Mr. Stock.”

  He held his hand out to Meghan. Her own shot out to grasp his fingers.

  “You don’t have to do this.” Her whisper strangled on all the emotions running through her as she took in his features. Paler and thinner, he still looked wonderful to her.

  “I want to.”

  Mrs. Gregory snapped upright out of her chair. “Miss Thorson—”

  “Six hundred dollars.”

  The balcony deck seemed to sway beneath Meghan’s chair. Heads swiveled again, and Mrs. Gregory gasped.

  A man stepped out of the shadows, hands in his pockets. A man Meghan recognized, and from her pale expression and slack jaw, a man Mrs. Gregory recognized as well.

  “Sorry. You don’t mind if I bid, too?” His lips twitched beneath his moustache.

  Mr. Stock sagged against the edge of the table and mopped his brow. His Adam’s apple lurched. When he’d finally composed himself, he managed to utter, “The bid is six hundred. Will you raise to seven, Mr. McBride?”

  “No, thank you. I believe six hundred is enough. I wouldn’t want to bid against my good friend, Mr. Harvey.” He flashed a quick smile and nodded at Mr. Harvey. Meghan’s heart swelled until she thought it might burst.

  “Sold to Mr. Harvey for six hundred dollars.” Mr. Stock drew in a deep breath. “I’d like to thank you all for coming. That concludes our auction for this evening, ladies and gentlemen. There are refreshments laid on in the dining room downstairs. If you will all make your way down there, and don’t forget to pick up your auction purchases and pay for them before you go downstairs.”

  Everyone remained still for a moment, and then the room burst into movement and voices. Meghan hardly dared believe in the warmth surrounding her heart and mind, all caused by the tender glow in Caleb
’s eyes. She swallowed and twisted her fingers through his. He squeezed her hand and winked at her.

  “Caleb.”

  Someone jostled her, and he steadied her, holding her elbow. She tried again. “Caleb, I—”

  Before she could say another word, Mr. Gibson descended on them.

  “My dear, so happy. Delighted. The quilt is wonderful. Six hundred dollars.” Mr. Gibson shook her hand hard enough to rattle her teeth. “Mr. Harvey has agreed that I should take the quilt with me on my travels. He thinks—and I quite agree—that having it to display as I speak would certainly inspire other Red Cross groups to make their own signature quilts. You’ll have an impact on not just this group, but many others as well.” He clasped her shoulder, beaming.

  Reluctantly she withdrew her hand from Caleb’s and fumbled with her handbag, withdrawing a receipt. “I don’t want to forget. If you give this to Mr. Stock, he will get you the money from the signature subscriptions. It amounted to almost five hundred dollars, and I thought it best to keep the money in the hotel safe. That, along with Mr. Harvey’s generous bid on the quilt should be enough for that ambulance.”

  “Splendid, splendid. I shall chase down Mr. Stock forthwith.” He drifted away, beaming and accepting congratulations.

  Mrs. Gregory took his place. Her cheeks blazed with color. “Miss Thorson, what is the meaning of this?” She raked her gaze over Caleb’s leg brace. “What sort of charade are you trying to pull?” She turned to Meghan. “And how dare you go behind my back and summon the head of the company.” Her face went from red to dull purple.

  Doc Bates, hitherto unnoticed by Meghan, tapped Mrs. Gregory on the shoulder. “Perhaps you’d like to sit down somewhere? You look a trifle flushed. I’m sure we can have a reasonable discussion without any unnecessary accusations.”

  “I quite agree.” Mr. Harvey’s voice dropped onto the conversation like a blanket smothering a fire. “Might I suggest the principle parties wait here until the rest of the guests have drifted down to the food?”

  Natalie rose, but before she could leave, Meghan grabbed her hand. “Please, stay.”

  And so, in a very short time, only a few people remained under the bunting and paper lanterns: Meghan, Caleb, Natalie, Doc Bates, Mr. Harvey, Mrs. Gregory, and Mr. Stock, who came puffing up the stairs after seeing the reception was well underway. Caleb took possession of Meghan’s hand once more.

  Mrs. Gregory fired first. “Mr. Harvey, you should be advised that I’m firing Miss Thorson. In spite of multiple warnings by myself and others, she has persistently defied me in regards to seeing Mr. McBride. As you know, it is against company policy for Harvey Girls to have romantic liaisons while in the company’s employ.” She glared at Meghan and Caleb’s linked fingers. “On more than one occasion I’ve found Miss Thorson in Mr. McBride’s company including finding them in an embrace right here in the hotel.”

  Caleb’s fingers tightened on Meghan’s, and heat crept up her cheeks. That magical night by the fountain was forever burned in her mind and on her heart. If Mrs. Gregory hadn’t interrupted, they very well might’ve shared their first kiss under a felicitous moon rather than that anger-prompted kiss that ended in a disastrous slap.

  Mrs. Gregory wasn’t finished. “I’m also appalled that she would bother you with this situation. Contacting the head of the company?” She rolled her eyes. “Insubordination, failure to follow the chain of command, improper behavior with a member of the opposite gender, and now this.”

  “But I didn’t—” Meghan’s protest was cut off by Mr. Stock clearing his throat.

  “Mrs. Gregory, I was the one who notified Mr. Harvey. I received a bulletin that he was traveling on the westbound that came in at noon today, and I asked if he could stay over to deal with one or two things that were likely to crop up tonight.” He tugged at his collar and rubbed his hand down the front of his white jacket. “You see, I heard you were planning action against Miss Thorson, and while I can appreciate your sympathies, what with your son off to war and all, I felt perhaps you were allowing personal prejudices to cloud your otherwise impeccable judgment.”

  Groping for a chair, Mrs. Gregory plopped down. Her face took on the hue of ashes, and Meghan’s chest squeezed. She sent Mr. Stock a grateful look. Imagine the fussy, standoffish hotel manager going out on a limb for her like that.

  Mrs. Gregory seemed to rally a bit. “Well, that doesn’t excuse her behavior, consorting with the likes of this charlatan and coward, and openly defying me when I ordered her not to include his name on that quilt.” She was like a cornered animal, spitting and snarling, and trembling with fear.

  “Perhaps I can shed some light on this subject. With your permission, Caleb?” Doc Bates raised one eyebrow.

  “No, Doc, I best do it myself.” Caleb’s thumb brushed the back of Meghan’s hand, and an uprush of love for him welled through her. She squeezed back.

  “I know it looks fishy, me wearing this brace, but the truth is, I should’ve worn it more often up to now. But I was too proud. I didn’t want anyone pitying me. I could take disdain, anger, even disgust, but I couldn’t stomach pity.” His other hand strayed to the leather wrap around his thigh. “When I was a kid, I came down with polio. My leg”—he patted the steel brace—“isn’t as strong as it should be. I would’ve liked nothing better than to enlist and go defend my country alongside fine soldiers like your son. But the army wouldn’t take me.”

  “So,” Doc butted in, “he’s helping the war effort in another way. He trains horses for the military. They hired him, they ship the horses to him, and he turns them into cavalry mounts. He won’t brag on himself, so I will. He’s found ways around his—infirmity—to turn out some of the best mounts the army has ever seen. When Major Alexander was here to look over the operation, he was very impressed. Caleb is one of the best trainers the army has.”

  Mrs. Gregory’s eyebrows bunched, and she glared, first at Caleb, then his brace, then at Doc. “Why didn’t he say so in the first place? Why let us think he was a coward?”

  “I didn’t think it was any of your business. I’ve never asked you about your childhood illnesses or your past. I wanted to be judged for what I am—a man, a horse trainer, a good citizen, a patriot—not for what I’m not.” He squared his shoulders. “And, because I want to be honest, I have to admit it had a lot to do with pride. I was ashamed of my leg, and I didn’t want people to know about it. The pain of being shunned as a coward was nothing to the pain of being shunned as a cripple. But it’s time to put that behind me. I am what I am. Folks can take it or leave it, but I’m not hiding it anymore.” He shot Meghan a look that sent sparkles all through her veins. His eyes held a promise that soon they’d be alone.

  Meghan swallowed against the lump in her throat. She was so proud of him she thought she might break right down and cry.

  “As to firing Meghan…I hope you’ll rethink that. I know, and she does too, that Harvey Girls aren’t supposed to keep company with men, but I want you all here to know that we’ve never been out on a date together. Every time we’ve seen each other, it’s either been here at the hotel or in the company of others, like when she came with the other girls out to my place to picnic at the river. And the time circumstances forced her into my company when her car broke down in the desert. We had a proper chaperone all the time, and Doc can vouch for that.”

  Mr. Harvey shook his head, easing his hands into his pants’ pockets. “I don’t think Miss Thorson needs to worry about being dismissed. I’m sure, now that Mrs. Gregory has heard the facts of the matter, she’ll be more than willing to reverse her decision—about a lot of things. War and epidemics bring about special circumstances, and we need to be flexible and understanding with one another.”

  Meghan looked down, away from the shock and hurt and bewilderment on Mrs. Gregory’s face. She had to feel as if the ground had fallen away from beneath her. “Thank you, Mr. Harvey. In any case, my contract is finished soon, and I don’t believe I’ll be staying on. I�
��ve learned so much the past few months, and I’m grateful for the job, but I think—I hope—there are some changes coming in my future that will make staying on at the El Garces impossible.”

  “I have something to say.” Natalie rose from her chair. Her pale, hollow cheeks and wide blue eyes made her look so vulnerable. “I’m so proud of Caleb for what he did here tonight, braving the scorn of this town to stand up in public for Meghan by sharing his deepest secret. It’s given me the courage to face you all with my own secret.”

  “Oh, Natalie, no,” Meghan whispered.

  “I have to. I can’t lie anymore. It’s dishonoring to God, to Derek, to Meghan and Dr. Bates whom I asked to keep my secret and lie for me.” She folded her hands in front of herself. “Mr. Harvey, Mrs. Gregory. I wasn’t truthful when I applied for this position. The truth is that I’m married. My husband, Derek, is fighting in France. I took the job because we needed the money to provide care for my mother-in-law. But I shouldn’t have lied. I should’ve trusted God to provide for our needs.”

  “Married?” Mrs. Gregory put her hand to her throat.

  “And I’m expecting.” Rosy tint ebbed and flowed in Natalie’s cheeks. “I should’ve come to you the minute Dr. Bates confirmed it, but I was too afraid. But no longer.” She lifted the chain from around her neck and removed her wedding ring from the gold links, slipping it onto her finger and raising her chin. “I was afraid to trust God to meet our needs. His way never includes lying and deception. Caleb and Meghan have given me the courage to trust Him to take care of me and my baby.”

  Meghan turned to her and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you. But I’m sorry, too. I’m going to miss you so much.”

  Mrs. Gregory seemed at a loss for words. She blinked, looking from one face to another as if she didn’t recognize anyone. Mr. Stock took the head waitress’s elbow and led her toward the stairs murmuring something about getting her something to drink.