It had appalled him who came into the brothel week after week. Some were family men, community leaders and the like. Men who appeared pious and devout on Sunday, walked about town with their wives on their arms on Saturday afternoons after darkening the brothel doorstep on Friday evenings.
Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do. It was his constant prayer when he walked into a brothel. It was the only thing he could concentrate on when he witnessed the atrocities they brought upon the women and their families. He hadn’t known any better until Martha entered his life—at least, he hadn’t been taught better. All he’d ever known was brothel life—yet, some of these men had an advantage over Jude. They had been raised by godly women who had taught them right from wrong. Still, it was not his place to judge, but to pray that their eyes would open to their depravity.
Jack Dew watched Jude closely, his beefy hands wiping down a glass with a dirty cloth. He didn’t blame the man for being suspicious. Jude had made his stance clear on the brothel—yet experience told him that a man who condemned a brothel publicly might support it privately. No doubt Dew was wondering if Jude was that kind of man.
“Are you looking for someone?” The scar on Dew’s face puckered when he scowled at Jude.
Jude scanned the interior and his eyes met the steely gaze of the man he’d come looking for. “I found him.”
Jude walked across the small room to the table where Hugh sat with his cronies.
He watched Jude closely, contempt wedged into the lines of his brow.
Two interior doors led out of the main room. One opened and a man Jude knew from town stumbled out, clearly drunk. His clothes were disheveled and his gait was awkward. He didn’t look right or left as he pushed his way out of the building.
The door began to close, but just before it did, Jude caught the gaze of a young woman. Her brown hair was in a mass of curls around her shoulders. She was prettier than most he saw in brothels, and if his instincts were correct, she was new to her trade. She lacked the troubled look of a woman buried beneath years of pain and suffering. In her eyes he saw fear and shame, but it wouldn’t be long until she hardened against every last remnant of self-respect and hope. If only he could get to her before it was too late.
She closed the door and Jude focused again on Hugh.
“Are you here to start something, Allen?” Hugh took a long drink of the amber liquid in his foggy cup.
“I’m here to end something.” Jude didn’t bother to sit. He wouldn’t be there long. “I want you to stay away from Grace Bell.”
Hugh’s eyes were already lazy from the alcohol. “Who are you, her father?”
“I’m as close to a father as she has. Clarence Bell entrusted his daughters to my care, so I’m here on their behalf.” It wasn’t quite true, but Hugh didn’t need to know the details of their arrangement.
Hugh snorted and suddenly he looked a lot more sober than he had a moment before. “I thought I already dealt with you.” He stood and came face-to-face with Jude, his breath reeking of whiskey. “I’ll see anyone I please.”
“You’re not welcome in my hotel.” Jude didn’t back down. “If you enter again, I’ll have Pascal throw you and your friends out. I thought I’d save you the embarrassment of Grace watching that happen.”
Hugh looked Jude up and down, a sneer on his lips. “That won’t stop me from finding a way to see her.”
Maybe it wouldn’t, but at least it would allow Grace some time to get to know the other men who came to the Northern.
“You’ve been warned.” Jude turned away, but Hugh snaked out his hand and grabbed Jude’s arm.
“Now let me warn you.” Hugh flexed the muscles of his jaw. “Watch your back, Allen.”
Hugh’s cronies laughed and Jude gritted his teeth. He knew there would be repercussions, but he had to take a stand.
Jude yanked his arm free and walked up to the counter.
“I’d like some time with the new girl.” Jude indicated the door he’d watched the man exit a moment ago.
Dew looked him over with mistrust, but then he nodded. “It’ll be a dollar.”
“A dollar?” The price was an extravagant amount of money for Dew’s place.
“She’s new,” he said, by way of explanation.
Jude didn’t want to garner too much attention, so he slipped the man a dollar and walked to the door.
No one paid much attention, except Hugh, who stared him down with a snarl.
Jude pushed open the door and entered a small room with a single glass window facing the Mississippi River.
The woman stood near the window, looking outside, and didn’t bother to turn when he entered the room.
A chair sat in one corner, a bed in another and a bureau in a third. There was nothing warm or welcoming about the room.
The space brought back memories Jude would just as soon forget, so he pushed them aside and decided not to waste any time. He had come into the room for one reason only, to tell this woman there was a way out for her. Paying for her time was the only way to get a chance to speak privately with her—just as it was with all the other women he had visited the past three years.
“Miss?” Jude took a step into the room and closed the door.
She finally turned, but didn’t quite look at him. With a shy dip of her shoulder, she started to cross the room toward the bed.
He put out his hand. “Don’t.”
She stopped and met his gaze, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m only here to tell you I can help.”
Her brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I can help you escape here,” he spoke quietly. “I’ve helped other women, all over the territory. I can help you find a better life.”
She pulled her wrapper over her shoulder and didn’t meet his gaze. “You’re not the first man who’s made that promise. Almost every man I meet says the same thing—but they usually promise to take me home with them.”
“I have no desire to take you home.” This conversation was like so many others. “I used to own a brothel, but then I realized I was wrong to profit off the lives of women. Now I own the Northern Hotel and I help women like you escape prostitution. My cook, Martha, teaches them necessary skills and then I help find them jobs far away from where they worked before. I could help you, too.”
She frowned, her eyes full of pain. “Who are you and why are you telling me this pack of lies?”
“I’m Jude Allen—and it’s not a pack of lies. I’ve helped ten women in the past three years. If you want out, I can help you, too.”
She took a step back, suspicion in her eyes.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
For a moment, she looked like she wouldn’t say, but then she whispered. “Gretchen.”
“If you ever need help, you can get word to me through my friend, Reverend Ben Lahaye. We’ll get help here as soon as possible.” Ben had given him permission to use his name. Sometimes it was safer than someone coming directly to Jude. “I know you’re scared and uncertain, but trust me when I say there’s a way out.”
She didn’t respond but continued to frown, and he sensed she was sorting through all he’d said.
“Good night, Gretchen. Don’t forget. Contact Reverend Ben Lahaye if you need help.”
He didn’t wait for her to speak, but opened the door and left her alone.
More men had come into the saloon and Hugh was now engaged in a game of poker. No one noticed as Jude slipped out the front door and got on his horse.
He hoped Gretchen would heed his advice and reach out for help.
The life she was living was no life at all.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Elizabeth sat across from Mr. McGovern, one of the local ban
kers, and waited for his laughter to subside. His office was lavishly decorated in rich walnut and leather. His desk was immense and so was his mustache. It wiggled as he laughed at her.
She’d come to ask if she would qualify for a loan to buy Jude’s portion of the Northern Hotel in January, but she’d hardly made her request known when the man started laughing.
He looked at her over the rim of his spectacles and wiped tears from his eyes. “Why did you really come, Miss Bell?”
Elizabeth tried to maintain her dignity. “For the reason I just stated.”
His shoulders continued to shake as he shook his head. “Really, Miss Bell.” He stood and came around the desk, putting his hand under her elbow to help her stand. “It’s been a distinct pleasure to meet you, but I’m not in the business of loaning money to unmarried ladies—especially for business purposes. It’s been my experience that women are too fickle to operate a real business.” He prodded her toward the door. “Now. Why don’t you focus on raising a nice family, instead? You’ll offer more to society by bringing up good young men to lead the next generation.” He winked at her and gave her a pat on her shoulder. “I do hope we run into each other again soon.”
Elizabeth stood speechless. Every muscle in her body was tight with anger. If Jude had come in for a loan would he have been denied?
She didn’t bother to thank Mr. McGovern for his time, but walked out of the bank with her head held high. How would she ever raise enough money to buy Jude’s half of the hotel...that is, if she could convince him to sell?
It was July Fourth and the streets were filled with people coming into town to enjoy the afternoon festivities. The banks and most of the stores would close at noon to allow everyone to attend the speeches, participate in the contests and visit with their neighbors, far and near. At the Northern, Martha, Violet and Grace were busy preparing food to be served for lunch and supper. Martha had sent Elizabeth to the grocer’s to get a few supplies. Elizabeth hadn’t intended to go to the bank, but she had walked by and been drawn in on a whim. Frustrated to have wasted her time, she hurried along the boardwalk to get back to the Northern.
The day was hot and humid. Elizabeth fanned herself with her gloved hand, but it offered no relief. Sweat dripped down the nape of her neck and slipped into the crevice of her back. Thankfully Mr. Fadling had offered to have the groceries delivered for her, or she would have had a difficult time hauling them back in the heat.
But it was impossible to let her spirits lag as she witnessed all the festivity on the street. A fenced-off area on Main Street held a dozen squealing piglets, greased down and ready to be chased. Mr. Green stood at the lemonade stand under the awning of his hardware store, squeezing the yellow citrus fruit and laughing loudly at a joke shared by an onlooker.
A podium had been placed on the porch of the Northern Hotel, ready for the round of rousing speeches, sure to excite even the youngest among them. The Ladies’ Improvement Society busily set out baked goods to be auctioned off before lunchtime, while Mr. Harper stood at the front door of his emporium handing out firecrackers to a group of children.
Many of the people on the street had been hit hard by the economy and the local trouble with Hugh’s gang, but every one of them wore a smile of anticipation. Regardless of their personal plight, their patriotism and fervor were high.
Grace appeared on the boardwalk, pushing her way through the crowd toward Elizabeth.
“I can’t find Rose,” Grace said when she was close enough to be heard.
Panic raced through Elizabeth and she grabbed Grace’s arm. “What do you mean, you can’t find her?”
“I’ve looked in every room and every corner. I even looked in the cellar and the attic. The others are looking for her in the barn and outbuildings.”
Elizabeth gripped her skirts and started running toward the hotel. “How did this happen?”
“I was rolling out dough for biscuits and she was right beside me. She said she had to use the privy, so I let her go. When she didn’t come back, I went to look for her.”
Elizabeth scanned each face as she ran. Rose could have gone anywhere. The lure of the activities outside the hotel would have been too much for her to resist.
They approached the Northern and Jude rushed out the front door, his gaze scanning the street.
“Have you found her?” Elizabeth asked.
He shook his head. “No. I was just going to the river.”
“The river?” Grace’s face turned ashen. “Do you think she’s drowned?”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll go with Jude and you keep looking around town.”
Grace nodded and didn’t look back as she continued up the street toward the school.
Jude came down the steps. “I have a feeling she’s down by the log boom.”
Elizabeth’s chest squeezed tight as she followed his lead. “Why would she go there?”
“Martha said when she took Rose on a walk last week, they saw children playing on the logs and Rose had wanted to join them.”
Elizabeth began to pray like she’d never prayed before. She must find Rose and return her safely to the hotel. She’d made a promise to Mama and she wouldn’t let her down.
* * *
The humidity made it hard to breathe as Jude ran toward the river and the log boom. Elizabeth tried to keep up, but she lagged behind. Jude took her hand and pulled her along, knowing she would want to be by his side if he found Rose.
They turned left on Wood Street and rushed past Abram and Charlotte Cooper’s front door. The boom held the yet-to-be-milled logs in the millpond. It attracted the local children, who loved to race across the tightly packed logs, jumping from one to another before the log turned.
It was a dangerous game and had cost a twelve-year-old boy his life last year. Jude prayed Rose wasn’t at the river, but a sinking feeling weighed down his heart.
“Rose!” Elizabeth yelled her sister’s name as she pointed wildly toward the millpond.
There, on her knees, balancing on a log near the riverbank was Rose. She was the only child in the millpond. All the other children were probably playing on Main Street, waiting for the festivities to begin.
Thankfully, the log looked fairly secure, as it was pressed against the bank, but Rose was moving toward the center of the pond, where the logs were scattered with nothing to keep them stable.
“Jude,” Elizabeth pleaded as she tugged on his hand. “Save her!”
Jude let Elizabeth go and ran across the sawmill yard. “Rose!” He called her name, but she didn’t seem to hear.
She continued to crawl across the log and he ran faster. If he didn’t get to her in time, she could go under and it would be almost impossible to rescue her from beneath all those logs.
His chest felt like it would burst as he ran down the riverbank as fast as he could go.
“Rose!” he said again, and this time she turned, but as she did, she lost her balance and tipped to her side.
Elizabeth ran close beside Jude and he heard her scream her sister’s name.
Rose tried to hug the log, but it was easily four feet in diameter. Her legs were in the water as she clawed at the tree bark, screaming and crying for help.
Jude jumped onto the log and rushed across it, balancing to stay on top. “Rose,” he said again. “Hold on. I’m almost there.”
“Mr. Jude!” Rose cried as her right hand slipped off the log and she batted violently at the water.
The log shifted beneath his feet, almost sending him into the water, but he held on and finally reached her. He grabbed her other hand as it slipped from the log. “Hold on, sweetheart.” He tugged at her arm and pulled with all his strength, remembering the promise he had made to keep her safe. The river tried to yank her from his hands, but now that he had her, he would ne
ver let go, even if it meant going under with her.
He lifted her into his arms and held her tight. “You’re safe, Rose. I have you.”
Her cries filled his ears as she clung to him, her clothes dripping water down the front of his.
Elizabeth stood on the riverbank, her hands clasped over her mouth. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she waited for Jude to teeter back across the log.
“She’s safe,” Jude said breathlessly, as he passed Rose to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Rose and lifted her eyes to the sky. She said “Thank you,” over and over, but he couldn’t tell if she was thanking him or God.
Jude put his hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Let’s get her back to the hotel to warm up.”
“I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
He put his other hand on the small of Elizabeth’s back and led her up the embankment.
Charlotte Cooper appeared at the door of her house. She rested her hands on her protruding stomach as she watched them cross the yard.
“Bring her into the house,” Charlotte called. “We’ll dry her things by the stove.”
Elizabeth looked at Jude and he nodded. “You’ll like Charlotte.”
They walked to the Coopers’ front door and Charlotte welcomed them in with concern tilting her brow. “What happened?”
“She was missing and we found her playing on the logs,” Jude said.
Charlotte shook her head. “Poor dear, she’s freezing cold. Bring her into the kitchen. Abram and I were just sitting down to enjoy some coffee with Ben before we head up the hill for the celebration.”
They walked across the main room and followed Charlotte through a door and into a hot kitchen. Abram and Ben were seated at the table, coffee mugs in their hands. Abram and Charlotte’s young daughter, Patricia, sat in a high chair beside her father, playing with a wooden toy. When Jude and Elizabeth entered, both men rose.
Inherited Page 9
