Erin

by Rachel Wesson

  “What’s that then?”

  “I fought in the war.”

  “I knows that already.”

  “Yeah, but I fought on the Confederate side.”

  A quick hiss as Wilma sucked her breath in was the only reaction. He waited a couple of seconds to see what she would say but she stayed silent.

  “My daddy got killed and they said I had to fight in his place. I didn't know much about the war. We didn’t own slaves or nothing. We didn’t have the money.”

  “Would you have owned slaves if you had the money? Be honest with me.”

  “No, ma'am. Ma always told us all people is the same. No matter what color they be.”

  “Well then, sounds like your ma and me would have been good friends. What age were you when you went fighting 'cause you look mighty young to be a war veteran?”

  “Thirteen, ma’am”

  “You was nothing but a child. Them men was wrong to take you to war. But I'm guessing you ain’t here to talk about the war. What can I do for you?”

  “There’s this girl.”

  Wilma let out a deep throaty laugh.“There’s always a girl involved in a man's troubles.” He didn’t laugh so she faltered.“You got a girl in trouble.”

  “Yes, at least I think so.”

  “Don’t you sit there telling me you think so. You might have been a boy when you went fighting but you is a man now. You can do better than that. This girl, does her family know she going to have your baby?”

  Shocked at the force of her temper, Mick nearly fell backwards off his chair as Wilma poked her finger in his face.

  “It ain’t like that. There's no baby.”

  “I ain’t following you.”

  “That’s 'cause you ain’t listening. You speaking too much and shaking your finger in my face. I ain’t no school boy. I came for your help not a lecture,” Mick growled.

  Wilma sat back. “Sorry, Mick, my temper gets too hot on occasion. Let's start again. A girl needs help because of something you did.”

  Mick didn’t meet her eyes, he couldn’t, as he felt too guilty. “It’s one of Dickie’s girls.”

  “You here talking to me about a soiled dove?” Wilma's tone wasn’t shocked as much as surprised.

  “It's Mollie. I know you know her, she told me you were nice to her.”

  A shadow flitted over Wilma's face. “Yeah, I know her. What you done to Mollie? You hurt her?” Wilma's temper was rising again.

  “Yeah, but not in the way you mean. I gave her hope and then took it away. I was so stupid.”

  “Mick, tell me the whole story from the start.”

  So, Mick told her about paying for two nights just so Mollie could sleep. He told her about his conversation with Dickie, wincing at the look on her face as he related the details.

  “I ain’t got that type of money or no way to get it.”

  “I ain’t got it either, son.”

  “I know that, Wilma, but I got to find a way to get it. I can’t bear to think of her face. If I had left her alone from the start, she wouldn’t have even thought about leaving her life.”

  “Now you look here and listen good. She'll have been thinking of ways of leaving that life from the moment it started. Make no mistake. You were kind to her. That’s a good thing. Do you know how few men think of girls like Mollie as people? You made her feel like a human being for a few hours. That was a real good thing. Don’t you tell yourself different.” Wilma tapped the table to illustrate her point. Mick knew she was trying to make him feel better but it wasn’t working.

  “It’s not enough though. I asked Little Beaver if he could help, but he said the sheriff says there is nothing the law can do. They don’t have anything they can stick on Dickie.”

  Wilma stood up to get more coffee. With her back to him, Mick thought he heard sniffles but he wasn’t sure. By the time she turned around, there were no signs of tears.

  “You know people fought us hard when we wanted to open this orphanage. They fought us real hard when Father Molloy and Alicia brought out all the orphans. Yet Dickie and his friends can run a house like that and nobody says anything to stop him. I don’t understand it.”

  “People look the other way when it comes to Mollie and girls like her,” Mick said even though he was pointing out the obvious.

  “Why are you so different? What makes Mollie special. You in love with her?”

  Mick nearly choked on his coffee. “Wilma, she’s just a kid. I ain’t like that.”

  “So why her?” Wilma persisted. “There are a million Mollies out there.”

  “I don’t know.” Mick decided it was time to leave. The conversation was becoming very uncomfortable.

  “Mick Quinn, you is lying to me now. I don’t like liars. I am going to try my best to help you and Mollie but you got to tell me the truth. Why her?”

  Mick stared at Wilma for some time. What did he have to lose by telling the truth? It would show his weak spot but this was Wilma. She’d never use the knowledge against him. Suddenly, he felt he had to tell her the whole story.

  “She reminds me of someone.”

  “Who?”

  Mick gulped hard past the lump in his throat. He reached into his pocket and took out the dog-eared photograph passing it to Wilma. She looked at it closely for a few minutes.

  “This here be your family?”

  Mick nodded.

  “You all look happy.”

  “We were. Ma and Pa are gone now.”

  “And the little girls.”

  “I don’t know where they are. I came back from the Yankee hospital in eighteen sixty-six and there was nothing left. No farm, no house and no...”

  He couldn’t finish.

  Wilma kept looking at the photo. “They be real pretty. What ages would they be now?”

  “About twenty-seven. If they are still alive. I don’t know what happened to them.”

  “I can see why Mollie reminds you of them. She looks a bit like them. But your sisters were most likely adopted into a lovely family. They could have families of their own now.”

  “Don't, Wilma. I know you are trying to be nice but we both know the type of things that happened in that war. It’s still going on now.”

  Wilma didn’t answer. He guessed she was thinking of her own family, assuming she had one. She was bound to have had brothers and sisters or maybe a husband and babies of her own. Something stopped him from asking. Wilma never spoke about her past. Not to anyone, not even Miss Laura and they were closer than anything.

  “Cookie saved me. I wasn’t fit for nothing after the war. I was so sure I would go home and they’d be there waiting. Cookie helped me get the farm back up and running. It was hard going but the land was good. Pa choose a good place. Every day I looked down the road hoping to see the girls coming. But nothing. Nobody knew anything. A few years went by. I had to get away. Cookie found a family willing to rent the farm and we took to the road doing odd jobs here and there. Suited us both. We searched every town, chased down every lead, but nothing.”

  “This family you rented your farm to, are they still living there?”

  “Yes. That’s where I go every summer. Stupid really, as they would send a telegram if they had any news. They want to buy the farm now. It’s a good one. But I can’t let go of it. It’s not just my home, it’s my sisters’ home too. And Cookies.”

  Wilma reached over to pat his hand but kept her eyes averted from his face. He rubbed his sleeve over his eyes thankful for her discretion.

  “You got to look forward not back, Mick. You can’t spend your life living in the past. Believe me that don’t work. I knows from experience, it only leads to more heartbreak.”

  The two sat in silence for a while before Mick pushed back his chair. “I got to go. Promised I would help out at the mill.”

  “Its real nice of you to help Mrs. Hofmeister. The poor lady.”

  “Davy is the nice one, he gave us the time off to help. Hopefully, she will have enough cash
to keep her going when the little one comes.”

  Something in Wilma face prompted his next question. “What?”

  “Seems like Hans borrowed some money to expand his business. Mrs. Hofmeister has quite a big debt to pay off.”

  “Can’t Shipley do something? Surely that bank of his doesn’t need any more profit.” Even as he made the comment, he knew it was unfair. He had never heard anything but good things about Lawrence Shipley.

  “It ain’t the bank she owes money to. Mr. Lawrence, he tried to talk Hans out of the loan and said no. But...”

  “Hans borrowed it anyway. From who?”

  Wilma stayed quiet.

  Mick felt sick asking “Not Dickie?”

  Wilma nodded. “Seems Mrs. Hofmeister has been offered a couple of ways of paying off the loan.”

  “Of all the dirty low down dogs. He is lower than a rattlesnake.” Mick fisted his hands.

  “Don’t you get yourself in the middle of it. There’s other people helping Mrs. Hofmeister. You got to stay away from Dickie. From what you told me, he knows your weak spot.”

  Mollie. Anything he did to Dickie, she would pay.

  “What is a creep like him doing here in Clover Springs anyway?”

  “I don’t know, but I reckon it’s about time he got moved on. Clover Springs is a nice place to live and I want it to stay that way. I is going to talk to the reverend about calling a town meeting.”

  “The town is more likely to help Mrs. Hofmeister than Mollie. Her being a respectable widow and everything.” Mick knew he sounded bitter.

  “You would think so, but Mrs. Hofmeister is German and there ain’t much love around some people for what they consider foreigners,” Wilma said sadly. She stood up, taking the dishes in her hands. “Anyway, if we get rid of Dickie, it will help both, won’t it?”

  Mick grinned for the first time since calling to see Wilma. “There’s a reason why everyone likes you so much. You find a way around everything.”

  “With my history, you had to. Now go on, you ain’t the only one with chores to do. I got to get a meal ready for the children ’cause they be hungry when they get out of school.”

  Mick was at the door when Wilma said softly.

  “Thank you for sharing your family with me. I won’t tell nobody.”

  Chapter 22

  Mick tipped his hat at her before shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t looking where he was going and walked right into the lady doctor.

  “Ma’am, I am so sorry, I didn’t watch where I was going.”

  “No harm done, Mr. Quinn. Wilma asked me to check on one of the children, is she inside?”

  “Yes, she is but could I ask you something?”

  He saw the shutters come down immediately.

  “I was wondering, well, I got a friend and well, the thing is…” Mick’s mouth went dry at the thought of what he was asking.

  “Just say what you want, Mr. Quinn.” Erin’s tone wasn’t overly friendly. He was tempted to forget it but Mollie needed her help.

  “Mollie, she's one of the girls who works over the saloon.” He hoped she would take the hint. The color flushing her cheeks suggested she had.

  “Is she ill?”

  “No.”

  “Then why would she want to see a doctor?”

  “Thing is, there’s some stuff that girls, I mean ladies, don’t want to discuss with a man. If you get my meaning.”

  Erin looked at him speculatively. He couldn’t meet her gaze, he was too embarrassed. For some reason her opinion of him mattered.

  “This girl is a...friend of yours?”

  “Yes. Please, Doc, can you find a way to speak to her? I think she might be being hurt but she won’t tell me nothing.” He played with his hat as he spoke.

  “I will do my best, Mr. Quinn.”

  “Thank you. Wilma knows her so she will tell you how best to see her. I don’t think, well, it’s not suitable for you to walk into the saloon. You being a lady and all.” Mick knew he was speaking too much but her being so close was unnerving. She smelled so nice and she looked pretty.

  “I am a doctor first.”

  Mick didn’t reply. That might be the way she saw it but for most of the folks living here in Clover Springs, she was a lady first and foremost.

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  He caught a hint of a smile at his acknowledgement of her status. He stood taller. What was wrong with him? He’d met plenty of women in his travels but hadn’t met one who could get under his skin like she did.

  He walked down the street toward the mill. He wondered if the doc knew about Dickie. Not that the man would touch a respectable woman. Mrs. Hofmeister was respectable. Yeah, but she was foreign. Why did that matter? It shouldn’t but it did.

  Erin looked at his retreating back. What was it about the man that made her want to get to know him better? She hadn’t been as attracted to anyone before. Not even… Her mind shut down refusing to go to that place of pain.

  “Morning, Doc, are you comin’ in?” Wilma’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Erin entered the kitchen, taking off her shawl and hanging it over the back of a chair.

  “You look tired, Doc, you feeling all right?”

  Erin smiled at the genuine concern on the older woman’s face. “I am fine. But I am worried about you.”

  Wilma’s face turned stony. “Nothing to be worried about. I is good and dandy.”

  “But you’re not, are you? Don’t lie to me, Wilma. I’m a doctor. I can see your ankles are swelling and you get short of breath.”

  “Don’t know how I feel about you looking at my ankles. I never asked you to.”

  “Stop being cross, Wilma. You asked me to check on Ellen and the baby.” Erin tried to placate the older woman. The last thing she needed was Wilma to get more stressed.

  “That’s ’cause I is worried about them. Miss Ellen, she don’t eat more than a little fly. And baby Jake, he only a itty bitty little thing. He should be feeding better.”

  “You are absolutely right on both counts. Jake should be thriving and Ellen eating more. But I am positive both will get better with your help. But only if you are here to give it.” Erin, although kind, knew she had to be firm.

  Wilma sat down suddenly.

  “What is wrong with me, Doc?” The fear in the older woman’s eyes made Erin pause.

  “You are going to be fine, Wilma.” At the look of disbelief on the older woman’s face, Erin took her hand. “Look at me. I said you will be fine. You need to take things a little slower that’s all. You are trying to do more than most women in their twenties do.”

  “But I is dizzy, Doc, and my feet, they sure do swell up.”

  “Both signs your heart is working harder than it should. You have to listen to your body, Wilma. First you need to rest more.”

  “But there is just so much to do.”

  “I am going to speak to Father Molloy about engaging some help for the orphanage as well as a new teacher. You and Ellen need a break.”

  “They’ll replace me if I can’t do the job. I seen it all the time. I ain’t got anywhere else to go, Doc. Please.”

  Erin watched horrified as the old woman cried real tears using her apron to cover her face.

  “Wilma, stop it now.” Erin stood up and put her arms around the woman. “You have been the strong one in this town long enough. Nobody is going to let you go anywhere. You just need to slow down a little. Pass some chores onto Samuel Higgins or some of the older children. You are surrounded by people who love you. Every day I hear people talking about you. Please stop crying, you will feel worse.”

  Wilma sniffled a little. Erin retook her seat and waited for the older woman to compose herself.

  “Sorry, Doc, I don’t know what came over me. I ain't usually a cry baby.”

  “You are the same as most women of your age. You realize you can’t do as much as you used to. For some reason that makes you think you will not be wanted. I have seen it happen o
ver and over again. I promise you, Wilma, nobody in this town wants rid of you.”

  “Charlie Staunton mightn’t agree?”

  “Well, there might be one or two. Now are you going to let me help you?”

  “Yes, Doc.” Wilma stood.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making us a cup of coffee.”

  “Sit down, Wilma, and listen to me. You have got to take this seriously. I want you to sit down every hour for at least ten minutes with your feet up. Like this.” Erin demonstrated the position she wanted Wilma to adopt. Just as she lifted her legs, the kitchen door opened and Mick Quinn walked back in.

  “Sorry, Wilma, I forgot to tell… I beg your pardon.”

  Erin fell off the chair onto the floor. Wilma started laughing and couldn’t stop. Erin glared at Mick who looked as if he was trying not to laugh. He held out a hand to help her up.

  “Don’t you ever knock?” Angry at being seen in such an unladylike position she took her temper out on him.

  “Actually, I did knock, but you two women were talking so much, you didn’t hear me.” Mick looked at her. “Mind me asking what you were doing?”

  “None of your business. Did you want something?” Erin knew she sounded rude but she didn’t care. She just wanted him to leave, or have the ground open and swallow her up. She was so embarrassed she could die.

  “Gee, I sure wish you could write up a tonic for that temper of yours. Wilma, I’ll call in later when you don’t have such unreasonable company.”

  Wilma was still laughing. A look from Erin only made her worse. Mick went out slamming the door behind him.

  “That man!” Erin exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Wilma agreed, before giving into more laughter.

  “Wilma, if you don’t stop I am leaving.”

  “Sorry, Doc, but you was ever so funny. Your face done turn bright red. But then you were flashing your underskirts at Mick.”

  “I didn’t do that on purpose and you know it. Now where was I?”

  “You were trying to show me how to sit.”

  “I think you should lie on your bed and put your feet up on some pillows. That will help.”