by Norah Hess
"I suppose Fletch will be taking Milly to the party," Laura said after a while, trying to sound as though she didn't care whom he brought.
"I imagine she'll manage that," Maida said dryly. "But Daniel says he doesn't want her hanging around us. He really doesn't like her. We both know that she only pretends to be our friend so that she can come to the cabin every night to see Fletch." She gave a short amused laugh. "About all she says to me all evening is hello and good-bye. The rest of the time she's fawning all over Fletch."
There was a slight catch in Laura's voice when she said, "Milly always did want to marry him."
"Daniel says that she will never get him to the altar; that he would never marry a piece of used goods like her."
Laura grasped Daniel's prediction and hung on to it as though it were gospel. She suddenly felt more lighthearted than she had in a long time.
A short time later she laid the scissors down and smiled. "Well, Maida, your dress is cut out. Are you handy with a needle?"
"Not very," Maida apologised. "My ma always did most of the sewing. I do sew a straight stitch, though."
"That's fine. You can help baste the pieces together so that we can see how it's going to fit before the permanent stitches are put in."
It was nearly four o'clock, time for both women to start their evening meals, when they left off working on the first stage of the dress. Even though it only hung together by long, loose stitches, it was taking shape. Maida's eyes danced with excitement. It would be her first new dress in a long time.
"How long do you think it will take to finish it?" she asked as she pulled on her heavy, short coat.
"I should think a couple days will do it. I'll work on it this evening, finish the basting. What will take the most time is working the buttonholes."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes. I'll look forward to seeing you, Maida. I've enjoyed our afternoon together."
"Me too." Maida's eyes looked suspiciously wet. "I've never had a woman friend to talk to before."
They stood talking a minute longer, Maida suggesting that she and Daniel walk to the church with Laura, then stay together at the party. It had not escaped the kind girl's notice how Laura was shunned by the women of the settlement.
When Maida had gone, her eyes bright and her step bouncy, Laura checked the pot of ham and beans that had been simmering all afternoon. They were done, and she lifted the pot to the back of the stove to keep warm.
She nursed Jolie, then began getting Taylor's supper together. Since that time Fletch had walked into the cabin, she kept watch at the kitchen window, watching for him to come toward the cabin to pick up the basket that held Taylor's evening meal. When she'd see him open the store door she would set the basket outside on the porch, then bar the door against him.
It kept him out, but she could hear his mocking laughter as he walked back to the post. He knew that she didn't trust herself to be alone with him.
Chapter Ten
Laura awakened to bright sunlight shining through her bedroom window. She smiled and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. It was going to be a beautiful day for Justine and Tommy's wedding.
The ceremony was to take place at four o'clock, and the party would begin at seven. She ticked off in her mind the things she had to do before the big event.
She had promised Maida to help her with her hair. She had to wrap up a set of sheets and pillowcases, her wedding gift. She had suggested to Maida that she might give the newlyweds a nice warm blanket and she wondered if the teenager had remembered to purchase it.
Maida was almost as excited as Justine about the wedding.
Laura smiled ruefully. Pa had suggested the most important thing on her list: someone to watch Jolie while she was in church. She had thought he was joking when he said, "Why don't you ask Bertha to come over and sit with Jolie? She'd jump at the chance."
"Oh, sure," she'd laughed. "I can just see a whore taking care of my daughter." When Taylor didn't laugh back, she knew he was serious. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Pa." She frowned.
"Why not? Bertha is one of the finest women I know. I grant you she's loud and don't act like a lady, but she's got one of the softest hearts you could find in any woman."
"But, Pa, she… "
"Not anymore, she don't. She hasn't taken a man to bed in ten years."
"But what about the girls who work for her?"
"You want to know something about those girls?" Taylor said, his voice a little sharp. "Every last one of them would be dead by now if Bertha hadn't taken them off the streets in Detroit and brought them here. They were sleeping in doorways, alleys, anyplace they could find, until Bertha came along. It's too late for them to find a husband and raise a family, but you can be sure that before they found themselves doing anything to keep alive, they dreamed of a different life. A man to love them, children to tend to, respectability."
Laura had never thought of the whores in that vein before. She had always imagined that they had deliberately chosen such a life. "I guess I'd better go talk to Bertha," she thought out loud "But Pa could be mistaken. The redheaded madam might not want to be bothered with a baby."
Laura sat up, swung her feet to the floor, and shoved her feet into her moccasins. She grabbed up her robe and shrugged into it as she left the chilly bedroom. She hurried to the fireplace and stirred up the fire. After adding several lengths of wood to the red coals, she checked on Jolie all wrapped up in her cradle. When she touched the smooth little cheeks and found them warm she went into the kitchen and after building a fire in the stove, put a pot of coffee to brewing.
By the time she got dressed, nursed Jolie, and had breakfast, Jebbie Morse was knocking on the door, ready to milk the cow.
As she handed him the pail she asked, "When you've finished milking, would you sit with Jolie for a short while? I have an errand to do."
Jebbie readily agreed. He was used to babies always being around. It seemed his mother, Agnes, had one about every year. He could handle them as deftly as any mother.
It was a cold and still day, and Laura buried her chin in the collar of her heavy jacket as she stepped off the porch and headed toward the cabin tucked in the pines back of the post. She wondered how many curious eyes were watching her from behind curtains and asking themselves what in the world was that shameless Laura Thomas doing, going to the madam's house. A sour smile darkened her eyes. The women would get together later in the day and tell each other that she was working for Bertha now.
As she knocked on Bertha's heavy door, Laura glanced at the lantern with its red chimney, hanging on the wall. Its light had been blown out, not to be lit again until nightfall. She remembered the many nights as a young girl she had lain in her attic room staring at the red glow, watching the men come and go, and wondering what went on in the pleasure house.
She had a pretty good idea now of what went on, thanks to Fletcher Thomas.
Bertha looked startled when she opened the door and saw Laura standing there. Laura looked just as startled. The madam's face was clean of the heavy powder and paint it showed to the public, and the fading red hair was done up in paper curlers. Her uncorseted figure was quite lumpy beneath the loose woolen robe she wore.
She looks like some child's grandmother, Laura thought when she got over her shock.
"I thought you were one of the girls coming back from the privy," Bertha said, disgruntled about her appearance.
Laura remembered that the madam and her girls kept different hours than the rest of the village. "I'm sorry, Bertha, I shouldn't have come so early. I'll come back later."
"Nonsense." Bertha motioned her inside. "I'm sure you won't spread the word that Bertha Higgins looks like an old hag before she gets her war paint on."
"Of course I won't," Laura said, shrugging out of her hip-length coat, "and you don't look like an old hag. You look like the rest of the women in the village. I like you without your war paint."
"I do get tired
of wearing it, but it's expected of me." She pulled a chair away from the table. "I just brewed a pot of coffee. Sit down and tell me why you've come calling while we have a cup."
While Bertha placed sugar and cream on the table, then poured the coffee, Laura glanced around the large room. There wasn't a housewife in the village who kept a cleaner kitchen. It was immaculate, from the polished black range to the well-scrubbed floor.
When the aging madam took a seat across from her, Laura pulled the sugar bowl toward her, saying, "If you say no to what I'm going to ask of you, Bertha, I'll understand. Would you sit with Jolie while I'm at church this afternoon? Justine Fraser and Tommy Weatherford are getting married and I'm standing up with Justine."
For several seconds Bertha stared at Laura in total surprise. Then, her face beaming with a wide smile, she said, "I'd be honored to, Laura. I haven't held a baby since I used to help out with my younger brothers and sisters at home."
"Then you've never been married or had a family of your own?"
Bertha looked down at her coffee, shaking her head. "I almost got married when I was sixteen." She looked up at Laura. "My birthday present that year was to lose my entire family, plus my intended, to influenza. Half our village was wiped out."
"What a heartbreaking thing to happen to you," Laura exclaimed softly, laying her hand on Bertha's.
Bertha nodded. "It near killed me. Our family was very close to each other, and I loved Ben dearly."
After a short silence Laura said, "I know you couldn't replace your family, but couldn't you have found another young man to love after a while?"
Bertha gave a short, mirthless laugh. "I didn't have the time or the inclination to look for love again. I had to worry about keeping body and soul together. There were no jobs to be had in our little village, and everyone there was too poor to take in another mouth to feed. So…" Bertha took a deep breath. "I packed my duds in an old leather satchel and headed for Detroit, about fifteen miles away. I was sure I'd find employment there. I didn't know that times were bad then, and that jobs were just as scarce in that big city as they were at home. Finally, when I was near to starving, down to the last sandwich I had brought along with me, I found a job, working in a tavern, serving drinks to the drunks that stumbled in. The pay was miserly, hardly enough to rent a room my ma wouldn't have kept her chickens in, and furnish me with one scant meal a day. What with the hard work and poor meals, I began to lose weight and felt sickly all the time."
Bertha looked up at Laura and said, "That's when I started selling my body." There was a defensive tone in her voice.
"I am so sorry, Bertha," Laura said over the tears that had welled up in her throat as she listened to the story of the big woman's hard life. One never knew what paths might lie ahead of them.
Bertha shrugged. "It wasn't too bad. I hated it at first and I felt so ashamed. But after a while it became just a job that furnished me better living quarters and all the food I wanted. But always I wanted to get out of the business, get out of the back streets of Detroit. I longed for the clean wooded hills of the country."
A rueful smile curved Bertha's lips. "It was a long time coming, but I finally convinced those four women sleeping in there to strike out with me. We landed here in Big Pine."
"Are you ever sorry you settled here?"
"Never. This is truly God's country, and though me and the girls are mostly shunned by the women in the village, we love it here."
"I know what it feels like to be shunned," Laura said with a wry smile. "It hurts."
"Don't let it, Laura. You have a friend in that Justine girl, and that little Maida thinks the world of you. She doesn't think the sun comes up until you're out of bed. Two such good friends are worth a hundred acquaintances who will turn on you without mercy."
"You're right, of course, and I'll get used to the noses that are turned up at me. Well," Laura said as she pushed her empty cup away, "I'd better get home. Jebbie Morse is with Jolie, and I imagine he's getting impatient for me to get back. Besides, I have a lot of things to do before four o'clock. For one thing, I have to wash this mop of hair." She fingered her black cuffs.
"So," she said, standing up, "shall I look for you around three o'clock?" "I'll be there." Bertha nodded as she opened the door for her.
The day went swiftly for Laura as she straightened up the cabin, and put a beef roast in the oven for Taylor's supper. After she nursed Jolie and changed her into clean, dry clothes, she packed Taylor's lunch of ham sandwiches in the basket, ready to set outside the minute she saw Fletch leave the post.
It was almost two o'clock by the time she got around to washing her hair and brushing the curls dry before the fire. She had just donned her new blue brocade when the clock struck three and Bertha knocked on the door.
"My, my, you're gonna knock everybody's eyes out, you look so beautiful," Bertha said as she stepped inside. She looked the dress over and said pensively, "I should have kept that dress material. It sure made up pretty."
"Jolie is sleeping now." Laura helped Bertha out of her fur coat. "She may sleep all the time I'm gone."
"I hope not," Bertha said, going over to the cradle and looking down at the baby. "I'll be disappointed if I don't get to hold her."
"If she doesn't wake up, you'll have to come visiting some morning when she's awake." Laura smiled at the madam, whose face wasn't as painted as it usually was. Nor was her dress as flamboyant as usual. Bertha looked almost respectable, Laura thought with a smile.
"I'd like that just fine." Bertha sat down in a rocker and opened a book she had brought with her.
Maida, who had been waiting on tenterhooks, excited to get her new dress on, jerked the door open before Laura could knock. "I've kept my robe on because I knew you were going to wash my hair and Ex it," she explained, ushering Laura inside.
"Yes, I am." Laura smiled and held up a bar of the rose-scented soap Taylor always ordered for her from Detroit. She reached into her pocket and brought out two strips of green ribbon. "This is for your hair."
"Oh, Laura, I've never had ribbons for my hair before." Maida lovingly fingered the velvet strips.
"Well, if I know your Daniel, you're going to have all the ribbons you want from now on. Now, let's get started with washing your hair."
"That sure smells good," Maida said a few minutes later, bent over a basin of water as Laura gave her hair a good sudsing. "I've only ever used lye soap on my hair before."
"This soap will make your hair silky soft and shiny. I'll leave it with you."
"Thank you, Laura. I've never had anyone be so nice to me."
After a good toweling, Maida's fine-textured hair dried fast before the fire. As Laura had promised, it was silky with red highlights and fell softly around the girl's narrow shoulders.
After Maida had slipped the green dress over her head, Laura tied the matching ribbon into a bow over each ear. When she told Maida to go look at herself in the mirror, her narrow little face flushed with excitement. She saw that she looked quite pretty.
"Oh, Laura, I can't believe it's me," she said softly, stroking the lace collar that lay beneath her chin. "I wish Daniel could see me."
"He will see you, silly," Laura teased. "When we go to the wedding party tonight." She looked at the clock. "I guess we'd better get started for the church. It's almost four o'clock."
Laura could hear the whispering going on behind her stiffly held back. She knew what the women were saying to each other: What was Justine thinking of, having that hussy stand up for her? She slid a look at the best man, Tommy's cousin. What was he thinking? Did he feel like everyone else?
The wink she received from him told her that he was only amused at the scandalized women.
It was over finally. Reverend Stiles had been overly long in binding the young couple together. Even after the vows had been spoken, he had gone on to say that they must always cling to each other, work together, have a large family. Everyone had become a little impatient, wanting to get out of
the cold church and home to their warm cabins.
After congratulating the happy pair, Laura headed for the door, walking so fast Maida almost had to run to keep up with her.
"Don't let them gossipers make you feel bad, Laura," she said when they got outside.
"They don't make me feel bad, Maida. They make me mad as hell."
"That's good. Daniel says that a person can get over anger faster than he can get over hurt."
Laura made no response, and when they came to the cutoff that led to her cabin, Maida said anxiously, "Me and Daniel will come for you around seven o'clock, all right?" The cold air and brisk walk had calmed Laura down somewhat and she answered calmly, "I'll be ready."
Laura had to smile when she walked into the cabin. Bertha was rocking a cooing Jolie as she softly sang her a bawdy tavern song. "Bertha," she laughingly said, "that is hardly a nursery song."
Bertha grinned. "I know it, but it's one of my favorites. The little one doesn't understand the words, and she likes the way I sing it."
Jolie heard her mother's voice and turned her blond head, looking for her. "I'll bet you're hungry, aren't you?" Laura tickled her under the chin. "Let me get my coat off."
"Well, how did everything go?" Bertha asked when Laura had settled Jolie to her breast.
"The ceremony was beautiful even if it did run on too long. As for the rest of it, it was as I expected it would be. Whispers and cold looks."
"Laura, you mustn't let them narrow-minded women get to you. They're not worth a minute's fretting over. You just hold your head high and go on with your life."
"That's exactly what I'm going to do. I made up my mind walking back from church that I intend to get out of life all it can give me. I'll ignore the looks and slurs, as well as Fletch's insults."
"His insults bother you more than all the rest, don't they?"
"They used to, but from now on he's going to find that he's dealing with a different woman. He and his slut, Milly Howard."
