by Cox, Carol
What a foolish fancy! Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her temples. She must be even more tired than she thought to harbor such uncharitable thoughts about an unwell woman.
“You must be exhausted.” Letitia’s syrupy voice echoed her thoughts. “Why don’t you go lie down for awhile?”
“An excellent idea,” Richard said. “Time enough to unpack and get settled after you’ve rested a bit.”
“But. . .I’m here to take care of Mrs. Bartlett, not the other way around.”
“Nonsense. We can’t have you falling ill before you even get started. Now go along and get some rest. We insist, don’t we, Dear?”
“Absolutely. A lovely girl like you needs to take care to maintain her appearance. Once word of your arrival gets out, suitors will be lining up outside our door.”
Elizabeth ignored the implied compliment and plumped up Letitia’s pillows. “If you have any concerns about my motive for coming out here, let me assure you that finding a husband is the farthest thing from my mind. I have no intention of entertaining suitors.”
She eased Letitia back onto the pillows and went to her room, where she found her trunk had already been delivered. She unpacked in short order. Her dresses would need ironing before they were fit to wear, but she could deal with that later.
The two leather bags in the bottom of her trunk, however, did require immediate attention. She lifted the sacks out one at a time, noting that the tie string on one of them was loose. She knotted it tight. She hadn’t brought her inheritance money clear across the country to lose it now.
She found Richard in his study. “I need to set up a banking account,” she told him. “Could you tell me where the nearest bank is?”
“I’m afraid we don’t have one yet.” He slid open the bottom drawer of his desk. “But I can keep your valuables in my strongbox, if you like.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “It will be a great relief to know it’s secure.”
Bringing the bags from her room, she watched him put her money inside the strongbox, then lock it and return the key to his pocket. She heaved a sigh of relief and turned to go. Time now to return to Letitia and get on with the job she had come west to do.
“Back so soon?” Letitia’s eyebrows arched high on her forehead. “Why, you’ve barely had enough time to close your eyes, let alone put your things in order.”
“On the contrary, I’ve unpacked and found a place for everything. I’m ready to get to work. What would you like me to do first?”
Letitia gaped at her. “My dear, you must have traveled light. When is the rest of your luggage coming?”
Elizabeth straightened the clutter of tiny bottles on Letitia’s vanity table. There isn’t anymore. I brought everything I thought I’d need with me.” She swiped a dust cloth across the tabletop. The dust swirled and settled in time with her movements.
“It’s so dry here, compared to Philadelphia. You’ll have to dampen the cloth to catch the dust. But Richard said you had only a carpetbag and one small trunk. Do you mean to tell me that’s all you brought? No party frocks? No ball gowns?”
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “Don’t you worry a bit, Mrs. Bartlett. I’m here to take care of you. Being a part of the local fashionable society doesn’t hold a bit of interest for me.”
Lifting the pitcher from the washstand, she poured a small amount of water onto the dust rag and worked it through the cloth with her hand. Letitia was right; the dust clung to the cloth and the walnut surface began to gleam.
Four
Can I get you anything else?” Elizabeth lifted an empty serving bowl and scooped up a basket of leftover rolls with her free hand.
“I could use some more coffee,” Richard said. “Bring a cup for yourself and join us.”
“Yes,” Letitia said. “You’re not a servant, you know. You’re a member of the household.”
Elizabeth carried the coffeepot and an extra cup to the small table she had set up in Letitia’s room. Having the couple share meals together in a more normal setting, she reasoned, might boost Letitia’s spirits and hasten her recovery.
After a week, signs of improvement were evident. Already a faint bloom of color had appeared in Letitia’s sallow cheeks, and her strength increased by the day. Dr. Warren had been most pleased with her progress on his last visit. The next step in Elizabeth’s plan was to coax her charge to take a few steps across the room and perhaps spend some time sitting up in the platform rocker. Maybe this would be a good day to try.
She poured coffee for the three of them and continued to plan her strategy.
Richard’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “You’re certainly quiet today.”
“She’s probably thinking about all the friends she left behind,” Letitia said, giving Elizabeth a probing look.
“On the contrary. I’m enjoying my stay here immensely.”
Letitia simpered. Again, Elizabeth wondered at the smile, so at odds with the lines time had imprinted on her face.
“Even so,” Letitia pressed, “there must be someone you miss. A special young man, perhaps? Your coming out here must have left many of them brokenhearted.”
Elizabeth stood and began gathering the cups and saucers. “Let me assure you, I am quite content to be here on my own. The men back home are more than capable of carrying on in my absence.”
“That’s their loss, then.” Richard leaned back in his chair and loosened the bottom button on his waistcoat. “Our western men won’t be so slow to appreciate your spirit and finer qualities.”
“To be sure.” Letitia bobbed her head in agreement. “There is any number of young men who would be most anxious to meet you. But you must let us introduce you to the right ones. With your looks and family background, you’re sure to receive a worthy proposal in a matter of weeks.” For the first time, Elizabeth saw a spark of excitement light her face.
Elizabeth lifted the armload of dirty dishes and turned toward the door. “You don’t have to worry about finding suitable prospects for me. Marriage is the last thing on my mind.”
A choking sound made her pivot back toward the bed. “You can’t mean that.” The color in Letitia’s cheeks ebbed away, leaving them an ashen gray.
Elizabeth set the dishes down and hurried to the bedside. “Are you feeling unwell? Do I need to call the doctor?”
Letitia waved her away. “I was startled by what you said, that’s all.” She fixed Elizabeth with a piercing gaze. “You didn’t mean that, of course. About having no interest in marriage.”
Elizabeth studied the other woman’s pasty complexion. If one offhand comment had that effect on her, what would hearing the whole truth do?
She shot a quick glance at Richard. He looked as discomfited as his wife. She wavered, then made her decision. Better to get it all out in the open as soon as possible.
She folded her hands in front of her and drew a deep breath. “My reason for choosing to come out here was not because I had limited prospects at home. I had no interest in attracting suitors then; I have none now. My focus lies in quite another direction.”
“And what might that be?” Richard asked, his voice taut.
“To seek my own way as an individual rather than as an appendage attached to a successful man. I want to achieve success on my own. I have no need to divert my energies hunting for a husband.”
“That’s outrageous!” Richard’s indignant sputter brought her explanation to an abrupt halt. “The very idea of a woman striking out on her own!”
“Indeed,” Letitia put in. “God made woman to be man’s helpmate. A woman isn’t complete without a husband.”
“Not at all. That may have been the case in years past, but look what women have accomplished just in this century. Why, only last year the American Equal Rights Association was founded for the express purpose of assuring the rights of all citizens regardless of their race, color, or sex.”
Letitia stared, her face twisted into its more accustomed scowl. “Rights? What are you talking
about? You’re beginning to sound like one of those wicked suffragists. I can’t believe I’m hearing such things from your lips, Elizabeth Simmons. I’m sure your mother never subscribed to a view like that.”
“My mother and I have never seen eye to eye on the topic,” Elizabeth admitted. “But that doesn’t make my opinion any less—”
“That will be quite enough out of you, young lady.” Richard’s tone brooked no response. “I cannot control the thoughts you allow to infect your mind, but you had better remember you are here at our invitation. And while you are a guest in this house, I insist you refrain from expressing those sentiments aloud again. Is that clear?”
Letitia punctuated his statement with a firm nod.
Elizabeth stared at them both for a long moment. “Perfectly.” She retrieved the coffee service and marched to the kitchen.
❧
The seemingly endless stream of kitchen chores had been put to rest, at least for the moment. Elizabeth pulled her bedroom curtain to one side and took in the view that was becoming more familiar by the day: miners and muleskinners in their rough garb; the better-dressed members of the Territorial Legislature conferring earnestly as they passed along the street. An undercurrent of excitement seemed to pervade every aspect of the new capital. And behind it all, the bulk of Thumb Butte formed a backdrop against the western sky.
One day, as soon as Letitia recovered enough to manage on her own, Elizabeth, too, would be a part of it all.
Recalling Letitia and their heated exchange, Elizabeth tried to set aside her ruffled feelings. Pastor Whitcomb had cautioned her often enough about the dangers of speaking in anger.
Had she done it again? Without a doubt. “I’m sorry, Lord,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against the windowpane. “Help me to remember what a wonderful opportunity I’ve been given. You’ve provided me with a place to stay and the chance to learn about the possibilities here. Help me to be appreciative and hold my tongue. . .and my temper.”
The front door closed with a decisive click. Elizabeth watched Richard descend the porch steps and set off toward the center of town. She followed his progress, wondering if she should apologize for her earlier outburst. She had no intention of changing her opinions, of course, but perhaps she should tone down the way she expressed herself.
❧
“Any mail for me?” Michael scanned the shelves of canned goods, while Nate Smith riffled through the envelopes behind the counter of the general store that doubled as the community post office. Nate separated one letter from the stack and held it up, giving Michael a gap-toothed grin.
Michael took the missive and smiled when he noted the return address. Amy had responded to his last letter even more quickly than usual. Regardless of their differing opinions on his being in Arizona, he could always count on his sister’s steadfast devotion. Nice to know he had at least one family member he could rely on—and to be able to talk to regarding their father’s behavior.
He stepped back from the counter and slit the envelope open with his pocketknife. The customer behind him jostled his arm, and he glanced up to see Richard Bartlett staring at him through his spectacles.
The older man’s irritated expression turned to one of pleasure. “Ah, Michael. I’ve been hoping to run into you.”
“Excuse me,” Michael said. “I have some family business to attend to.” He held up the envelope in silent explanation and moved outside into a shadowy corner behind a stack of shipping crates, hoping the maneuver would put him outside Richard’s notice.
He slid the thin sheet of stationery out of the envelope and spread it open.
Dearest Brother,
I pray this letter finds you well. And to set your mind at ease, let me assure you right away of my abiding love and support. My questions as to the wisdom of your going to the new territory are due only to my concern for what is best for you. Your description of our father’s latest peccadilloes saddens but does not surprise me, these being but one more entry in a long list of misdeeds.
While my love for you never changes, I continue to find myself at a loss to understand your insistence on throwing away your own prospects for a bright future for the sake of a man who not only robbed us of a normal family life but cut short our mother’s life, as well.
The rattle of boots rumbled along the boardwalk, and Michael saw the object of his sister’s scorn approaching. Thumbs hooked in his vest pockets, his father held the attention of a small group of men with practiced ease.
Not a group selected from Prescott’s finest citizens, Michael noted. What could his father be up to now? He faded back into the shadows and waited. The group stopped just past his place of concealment.
“So you see my dilemma, O’Roarke.” The speaker, a florid man with side whiskers, spread his hands wide. “I’ve submitted my bid to the legislature, but that sanctimonious clerk wouldn’t tell me whether I’ve been undercut by Bauer’s crew. I knew if anyone could make sure I get that contract, it would be you.” He slid an envelope from his inner pocket into O’Roarke’s waiting hand.
Michael’s father glanced inside the envelope, smiled, and tucked it away. “That will take care of things nicely. A word in the right ears, and I’m sure I can clear this up for you. Always glad to be of service to a hard-working man like yourself.”
“We could use more of your kind in public service,” the man said. His companions nodded agreement.
“That’s what I like about you, O’Roarke. You always know how to get things done. . .even if it isn’t always quite within the confines of the law.” The speaker elbowed Michael’s father, while the others guffawed.
The knot of men moved on down the street. Michael eased out from behind the crates, swallowing against the taste of bile that rose in his throat. How long did his father think he could sow this kind of corruption before he reaped a harvest of retribution?
He clenched his fists and felt something crackle in his fingers. Amy’s letter. He smoothed it out as best he could and tucked it inside the inner pocket of his sack coat. Amy would no doubt classify this as yet another example of their father’s unsavory lifestyle. And she would be right. She would also question once again Michael’s wisdom in following their father to Arizona.
For the first time, he wondered if Amy could be right on that account as well. Had he made a mistake in thinking his presence might put a damper on their father’s shady activities and help bring him to faith in Christ?
Back in Albany, he would have been finishing up the college degree the war had interrupted. He’d be preparing for law school and mapping out his future—and worrying himself sick about his father.
There, he’d be losing sleep wondering what new scheme his father was about to launch. Here, he knew the schemes all too well, but at least he had the chance to be around when his father’s misdeeds caught up with him and he finally hit bottom. No getting around it, he needed to be in Prescott.
Five
“Won’t Mr. Bartlett be surprised when he sees you sitting up on your own?” Elizabeth fluffed one of the bed pillows and slipped it between Letitia’s back and the platform rocker. “Are you comfortable?”
“As much as I can be, considering the constant pain I’m in.”
Elizabeth bit her tongue and slipped out to the kitchen before she said something she would regret. Letitia had been through an ordeal, no doubt about it. Still, Elizabeth couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Letitia’s condition had improved more than she was willing to admit.
She ladled a thick bean soup into a flowered tureen and set it, along with bowls and spoons, on a serving tray. On the bright side, Letitia looked better, even if her attitude showed little improvement.
Elizabeth had spent the morning coaxing Letitia to allow her to wash and dress her hair and helped her change into a housecoat of a soft rose hue that brought a bloom of pink to her cheeks.
She had everything set in place by the time Richard’s footsteps sounded on the front porch.
He entered Letitia’s room and stopped short when he saw his wife in the chair. The smile that spread over his face gave Elizabeth all the reward she needed. “Wonderful to see you up, my dear.” He dropped a kiss on Letitia’s forehead and seated himself across from her. “Don’t leave just yet, Elizabeth.” He pulled a packet of letters from his pocket and handed three to her.
“Three letters!” Letitia gasped. “You must have a host of friends to keep up the steady stream of mail you’ve been getting.”
Elizabeth responded with a brief smile and glanced through the missives. She recognized her mother’s fine script on the first envelope and set it aside. The second was from Carrie.
Guess what event brought Philadelphia’s elite to our home last Friday night? None other than Virginia’s engagement party!
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and scanned the letter for the name of her future brother-in-law.
Emerson Fairfield. That figured. Just like Virginia to pick the most solvent of her suitors rather than one with character.
“That’s a solemn look,” Richard said. “Nothing wrong, I hope.”
“It seems my sister, Virginia, has just become engaged to Emerson Fairfield. You may remember him.”
Richard sat up straight. “Of the Baltimore Fairfields? She’s made a fine match indeed. Your parents must be very happy.”
“I’m sure Mother will be thrilled,” she replied. She glanced at the second letter. James again. It would be fun to read his take on Virginia’s impending nuptials. She started to slit the envelope open, then remembered where she was and turned to go. She would read James’s letter back in the kitchen.
“Wait. Why don’t you bring another chair and eat with us?” Letitia suggested.
“Of course,” Richard said. “No need for you to stay confined to the kitchen like a servant. We’ve benefited by your help, but we haven’t taken time just to sit and chat.”
“What a lot of mail you receive!” Letitia gushed when they had all filled their bowls. She cast a sidelong glance at Elizabeth. “You must miss your home very much.”
