Bess loved the smell of the outdoors in the spring and early summer—the rich odor of freshly turned sod and the sweet fragrance of grass and early flowers. The sun was warm on her face, and a gentle breeze caressed her hair. All these sensations seemed to draw Bess out of the hotel, but getting caught outdoors by one of the women or Sam, the owner of the hotel, was never a pleasant experience, so she stayed pretty close to the kitchen most of the time.
Bess remembered that another lady had worked at this hotel when Bess was very young. The lady would call Bess “Missy.” She was always cross with her and often even slapped her, until Bess didn’t care to be around her at all. Bess couldn’t remember the lady’s name, but she asked her once why she called her Missy and everyone else called her Bess. The lady simply said that, even though her name was Bess, that Bess had been the biggest mistake she’d ever made, so she called her Missy for her mistake.
It was years later, long after that lady moved away, when Clara explained who the lady actually was: Bess’s mother. Bess had been given to Clara, since Clara loved her. But a certain sadness always followed Bess because her mother hadn’t wanted her.
When she was small, she would wash dishes until she could not stand or keep her eyes open any longer. Then usually Gertie would snap at her to go lay down awhile. She would go rest on the thick blanket that was her special place on the floor behind the big cookstove. She always went to sleep there but would usually wake up in either Clara’s room or one of the other ladies’ rooms. Occasionally, she would wake in the night and still be on the floor behind the stove, alone in the dark kitchen. Those were the nights she hated. But when she learned that Gertie slept in the room at the far end of the kitchen, it comforted her to know that and helped some way, even though she was too frightened of Gertie to call out or go to her. But it felt safer to know that Gertie was there…that she wasn’t totally alone.
Sam seemed to be in charge of the hotel, and Bess was frightened of him. She never was quite sure exactly why she was afraid, but down deep inside she knew she did not want to find out. He was well aware of her but never really spoke to her. If he saw her, he would yell at someone to take care of the child, and his yell was a terrible thing. It would paralyze Bess with fear until one of the women came to her rescue, and then the woman would scold Bess and remind her how fortunate she was that Sam allowed her to stay there, until Bess vowed to never be caught in Sam’s presence again.
Once Bess overheard snatches of Sam yelling at Clara that she and the girls needed to keep the child out of places she didn’t belong. He was yelling that it was high time the child be put to work to earn her keep. Bess thought of all the dishes she washed and floors she swept (with a broom bigger than she was) and the beds she made and wondered what Sam meant by “putting her to work.” They continued to argue for some time, until Clara was able to calm him. Bess was always amazed at how calm Clara could be with Sam yelling at her, when any of the other girls would yell back and end up in tears from his threats.
For a few days after that, Bess noticed that Clara seemed extra quiet. She also noticed that Sam seemed to expect an answer of some kind from Clara. She even caught Gertie looking at Clara with questioning eyes, at which time Clara would nod toward Bess and shake her head at Gertie. Bess wondered some, but since she had always lived in this place with these women and some sense of mystery, she knew not to ask questions. Bess knew if it was something she needed to know, Clara would tell her in her own time.
A day or so later Bess overheard Dinah and Sue Ann, two ladies who lived at the hotel, talking at the table when she entered the kitchen. Sue Ann was saying, “Lord knows I was working and earning my keep long before I was her age.”
Then Dinah noticed Bess’s entrance and frowned slightly and shook her head at Sue Ann.
Sue Ann pouted and proclaimed loudly, “Well, I don’t see why she is treated like the queen bee herself!”
Dinah jumped to her feet, knocking over the bench, rushed over to Bess, and invited her up to her room to see some new bangles someone had given her. When they were leaving the kitchen, Sue Ann was still fuming. Then again, Sue Ann was always fuming.
One day not long after that, Clara awakened Bess early and told her they were taking a picnic for a day and that Bess should dress comfortably and be ready to leave soon. Bess excitedly rolled out of bed, brushed her hair and washed, making her and Clara’s beds, and straightening the room as she had been taught. She had never been on a picnic before and had never really had much opportunity to be outdoors and play in the grass and sunshine, so her excitement was almost more than she could contain.
She chattered and teased and flitted around. Clara had said she could wear what she wanted, but Bess was in a quandary as to what one would wear on a picnic. She asked Clara who would be going on this picnic, and when Clara said just the two of them, Bess decided to wear something that would allow her to play, in case that should be part of their day. Clara was just concerned that Bess keep quiet and not wake up everyone in the hotel.
When they were dressed, they went down the back stairway and entered the kitchen before even Gertie was there. Clara made sandwiches and packed some cheeses and fruit into a basket along with a jar of sweet tea, an old tablecloth, and two chipped mugs. Then she handed a rolled-up blanket to Bess as she picked up the basket and headed out the door, again motioning to Bess to be quiet.
It was a late spring day, and the sun was already drying the dew from the grasses that waved in the gentle breeze. Bess walked quietly beside Clara, somehow knowing that Clara did not want to be seen or acknowledged, should anyone notice them walking away from the town.
It was fun, really, walking quietly away from the town. The birds called to one another and flitted busily from tree to tree. Bess had never before noticed how many different kinds of birds there were. She breathed deeply of the fragrant earth. Something sweet wafted past on a gentle breeze, and as she looked at Clara to see if she dared ask, Clara smiled and said, “Honeysuckle.”
“What?” Bess asked.
“It’s honeysuckle that smells so sweet,” Clara explained. “It’s a wildflower, and perfumers use it to make some of the beautiful perfumes that women wear.”
“Oh, Clara, I love the smell of honeysuckle. Can you show it to me?”
“Sure, honey. See that bush over there at the fence post? It’s covered with small white flowers. Do you see that?”
“Yes! It’s beautiful! More beautiful than lace! May I pick some and take it with us?”
“No.”
Bess looked at Clara quickly to see if she was teasing. She noticed an unusual heaviness in the way Clara walked and in the way she didn’t seem to smile like she usually did. Bess was afraid to question, so she walked on.
In a few minutes, Clara looked at Bess and said, as though the conversation was still in progress, “Because if you do, we’ll be fighting off the honeybees all day long. The bees love the sweet nectar that is in the center of the honeysuckle flowers. And we must leave those blossoms for the bees. It’s all right to pick some when we’re taking it indoors away from the bees, but we don’t want to take honeysuckle with us on a picnic.”
They walked on in companionable silence. Town was now far enough behind them that Bess could no longer look back and see any of it, nor could she hear the town sounds. The world out here seemed so very hushed that it felt wrong to be disturbing the silence with footsteps.
Eventually Bess heard something. She listened carefully and tried to guess what it was. Then she knew. It was water. She could hear it running and splashing, and she could tell they were getting closer. She glanced up at Clara’s face, but Clara appeared deep in thought.
The sun rose higher in the sky and felt warmer as they walked. Even the breeze became warmer. Bess felt like she had walked so far from the hotel that she was concerned they might forget their way back.
When Clara turned off of the worn path and entered a lightly wooded area, Bess was amazed at how much cooler
it was among the trees. And it was also not as quiet. There was the rustling of leaves, small skittering noises, the calling of birds, and the chattering of squirrels. Now and again they would hear a twig snap, but altogether the noises seemed to make their own type of silence. Bess breathed in the aromas of crushed pine needles and moist earth. The splashing of water grew louder. Now Bess knew they were going toward that water, and she could hardly keep from dancing and questioning.
Eventually Bess could see the brook tumbling and splashing over rocks through the thinning trees. As they came closer, Clara’s steps slowed until they stood by the brook. Looking into the water, Bess could see little creatures busily swimming and darting about between the rocks. She crouched on the edge of the bank to see better.
Clara stooped beside Bess. “Look,” she said as she set the basket on the grass. She reached over and took the rolled blanket from Bess and laid it beside the basket. Then she reached into the stream. “Feel how cold and refreshing this water is. It feels wonderful to splash it on your face after a long, hot walk.”
Bess watched and mimicked Clara’s actions. She leaned over, reached into the water, but pulled her hand back immediately. “It’s cold, Clara. Really cold.”
“Yes, it will warm up later in the summer, but right now it’s still cool. It sure feels good on a hot, tired face, though.” Again Clara dipped her hands in the water and touched her cheeks and neck with her cold, wet hands.
It didn’t take long before Bess was dipping her hands in and splashing in the water herself. Laughter bubbled up from deep inside her, and soon they were both laughing.
Looking around to be sure no one was in sight, Clara whispered conspiratorially, “Bess, take off your shoes and stockings.”
Clara started taking off her own shoes and stockings, and Bess followed her lead. Then, lifting their skirts and petticoats above their knees, they sat on the edge of the stream and dangled their feet into the water. Oh, it was so cold, but it felt so good. Together they played in the water’s edge. Bess found some smooth stones and made a small pile of the sparkling ones while Clara watched.
After a while, Clara showed Bess how to make a small round stone skip across the top of the water. It was like the stone was dancing its own kind of dance.
Bess tried a few times, but her stones would just go plunk into the water without a single hop. She began to get discouraged but noticed that each time hers went plunk, Clara would take another one and make it hop across the top of the water. But then, Clara didn’t throw hers the way Bess did. She would thrust the stone toward the water sideways, keeping her pitch parallel to the top of the water. So Bess tried again and again until finally hers skipped across the top also. What fun it was!
When their arms tired of skipping the stones and their feet felt like ice, they donned their stockings and shoes and lay back on the soft green grass beside the brook. The clouds resembled huge puffs of cotton floating on a sea of blue. Clara asked Bess if she could find a lamb in the sky, so Bess studied the cloud formations until she saw it. Together they searched for other formations and laughed and giggled like two schoolgirls.
Eventually Bess said, “Clara, this is the most fun day I can ever remember. I don’t want to go back, but will Gertie be angry if I’m not there to help her? I don’t like it at all when Gertie is angry with me.”
Clara turned her head toward Bess. “No,” she said sadly, “Gertie has given us this day off to play. We don’t have to be back until evening. But the sun is no longer high in the sky, and I’m hungry. Let’s open our picnic and see what there is to fill our stomachs.”
It should have sounded like an adventure, but it was sounding more like a sentence. Bess couldn’t help but feel there was a dread of some kind in Clara’s heart, but she knew better than to ask. Silently she spread the blanket on the grass as Clara opened the basket.
While they ate their picnic lunch, Clara told Bess that Sam thought she should begin to teach Bess how to care for the men who visited the hotel, too. Bess had watched the ladies dress in their fancy gowns and powder their faces and their bosoms and perfume themselves; she had played with the cosmetics and combs herself now and again when she was younger. So it was with enthusiasm and excitement that she received the news she was to learn the trade. But she wondered why Clara seemed sad and a little hesitant about it.
After they finished eating, they lay back on the blanket and, looking at the sky, Clara began to explain what Sam expected from the women and now from Bess in order to live at the hotel.
Bess left the hotel that morning a little girl with a spring in her step and a smile in her heart. She returned that evening with a simple understanding of a new reality.
And that was the day the whole world changed for Bess.
Chapter 2
Fifteen years later
It was the strangest evening Bess could remember since she had started working. She had never paid that much attention to one man before, but Ethan Evanston somehow had affected her differently than any other man. Well, maybe it was simply that no man had ever affected her at all before she met Ethan. Suddenly she realized she cared for him, and that frightened her.
She well knew and had been told often that men who used their services had no intention of caring for them in return. But what could she do about her heart? Week after week Ethan had come to visit her on the weekends. He told her how he loved to make things with his hands and of his frustration with his monotonous job at the railroad. She encouraged him to leave the railroad and open a carpenter’s shop. He was the first man who actually talked to her…carried on a conversation.
But just when Bess felt there might be something between Ethan and her, he started acting differently. He was still gentle and caring but now restless, quiet, and distant. She recognized the characteristic guilt, but Ethan was still different than the others. And then there was the evening he seemed almost completely oblivious of her.
She watched Ethan all that evening until he had finally simply disappeared up the stairs and not returned. She ended up with no man at all that night. She was not up to serving a customer, so she tended to the tables but avoided direct conversations or contact. As she helped Sam clean up, she saw him looking at her strangely, but there was nothing to say so she remained quiet, helping him until his work was done. Afterward she crept up the back stairs and spent the night alone in her rooms.
Early the next morning, before she was quite awake, she dreamed she and Ethan were riding horseback somewhere and eventually he outdistanced her and disappeared. She had awakened in tears and felt there was some truth in the dream. She tried to make herself not care, but it just didn’t work. She did care. She cared a lot.
For weeks she didn’t see Ethan again. Summer melted into sultry fall, and fall brought in winter before she saw him one afternoon in the general store. She had been taught to never address a man in public, so she looked away, but as soon as she finished her errand and turned to leave, she heard her name and turned to look back.
Ethan was running toward her! When he caught up to her, he explained that things and circumstances had changed for him since he’d last seen her. He wondered if they could meet sometime away from the saloon so he could tell her about his new life.
Bess was totally mystified but too joyous to decline. So they met that next Sunday afternoon and walked out by the stream at the edge of town. Ethan told her all about his change of heart and the faith in God that he had found. He encouraged her to believe in God also and change her life, but he didn’t realize how impossible it was to do that. So they had parted.
Several weeks later, Bess had indeed visited the church on a Sunday morning. She had been surprised by the welcome she had received, but she still was at a total loss to understand what was said and done in the service. Before the service was quite over, she slipped out so as not to embarrass herself or anyone else there. She had pondered the things she heard for some time, but finally accepted the fact that what the pastor had said was n
ot for the likes of her. She’d tried to push his message and Ethan Evanston far from her mind.
It was early in the spring one day when Bess felt she must get out of the building. Usually she would have merely wandered a bit behind the hotel, but the snows were melting and the ground was soggy and muddy. So, since it was too early in the morning for many folks to be out, she went to the front of the hotel and decided to walk on the boardwalk that was built slightly raised above the mud and slop of the road.
Bess knew not to look around at folks, so she walked with her head tucked down, simply listening to the sounds, enjoying the warming breeze, and inhaling the smells associated with spring. They were not all pleasant smells, but being part and parcel of the melting and thawing, she took pleasure in them just the same.
She had not gone far when another woman came up beside her. The woman looked familiar, but Bess couldn’t think where she had seen her before.
Without hesitation, the lady spoke to Bess. “Good morning! Isn’t it absolutely heavenly this morning?”
“Morning,” Bess mumbled, surprised. Women like this did not speak openly to a prostitute. It simply wasn’t done. “It certainly puts the promise of spring in one’s heart,” Bess added tentatively.
The lady replied that her name was Rebecca Taylor and that she had shared a hymnal with Bess when Bess had visited the church in the fall. Rebecca wanted to invite her to return. Bess was amazed. Did this woman not understand who she was? Bess didn’t quite know what to say, so she said only, “I didn’t feel like I belonged there. Oh, everyone was nice enough, but I didn’t feel like I fit…” She had faltered to a stop.
“None of us fits, until we decide to,” Rebecca said.
The Long Road Home Romance Collection Page 13
