Suffrage and Suitors

by Noelle, Jo

  His mam became more animated, marching back and forth in the window frame playing an imagined song. It didn’t seem likely that she was reminding him that she’d taught him. He was pretty sure she wanted him to use them. He’d have to think on that.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Mr. Newell stood from the table. “We could get started if you’re available, Mr. McRae.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Edwin went to the kitchen and picked up two of the little fruit pies. “I’m ready now.” He held one toward Newell. “You had one in your bagged lunch, but would you like a second helping?”

  “I believe I would. Thank you.” Bernard set it in front of him as Edwin took a seat. The man’s eyes, nearly black, were wise and curious at once. His gaze was pointed as if he was looking at Edwin through the sight on a rifle. “The circuit judge will be back next week and is expected to rule on your suit against Archibald Grady. You’ll need to appear.”

  It was good news, then. “Do you know which day?” Please, be any day but Thursday. He had to be with Millie at her rally. It meant a lot to her, and he found it did to him as well.

  “The telegram I received said Wednesday.’” Mr. Newell paused and took a bite. Then his whole demeanor shifted as easily as someone changing their socks. In a friendlier tone, he added, “I saw the flyer in my sack lunch. It’s a good idea to march. I’d like to take part if you don’t mind.”

  “The whole town is welcome. Will you be staying in town until then?”

  “I will and maybe longer. I don’t believe I need to travel around anymore to offer my services.” Bernard took another bite. “Creede is growing on me. It’s large enough to support a legal practice—might as well be mine.” He took another bite and lifted the little treat in the air. “Tell Miss Bing this might be her best idea yet.”

  “I will, and we’ll be glad to have you at the march and as a new resident.”

  Millie

  Millie stood beside Edwin in front of the Golden Nugget Saloon. She was glad he’d agreed to walk her here. It made her feel more respectable somehow. “I’m going in.” She knew she was trying to convince herself but didn’t take a step to move.

  Edwin shook his head. “You don’t want to do that, lassie. It’s something you’ll never unsee.”

  Millie wondered if Edwin’s comment was a warning from experience or from his imagination. She chose the latter reason. Anyway… “This cause is more important than my eyes.” And she knew it was. One person doesn’t often get a chance to change history, but this was her chance. “Just wait here for me. I’ll be right back.” She patted his arm.

  “No.” He caught and held her hand. The tingle of it lifted the fine hairs on her head.

  Millie had never heard Edwin sound so resolved. This was important to him. She stopped mid-step and backed up. Uncertainty melted from his face.

  “I’ll go with you.” Edwin tucked her hand at his elbow and escorted her into the Nugget. His hand tightened on hers when the batwing doors swung behind them.

  Millie’s eyes blinked to get used to the dark interior. She hadn’t realized that the only windows in the lower level were the small ones at the front. She’d never entered a saloon and had sworn she never would, but there she stood. It was barely mid-morning. Only two other people were inside—Edwin standing beside her with his hat in his hand and a man shining glasses with a cloth stood behind an ornate bar. The length of the wall was covered with framed pictures, but she wouldn’t call them art by any stretch, and it made her ill to see the degrading opinion of women portrayed in them.

  Beside her, Edwin seemed to be studying his shoes. He’s a good man.

  “I’ll hurry, so we can leave.”

  Edwin nodded and turned his back to the bar, looking toward the door. “I’ll be here.”

  Millie wanted to run away more than at any time in her life. She also felt in her gut that every person, every woman, should have a say in her future, and that included the women who worked upstairs. That argument was stronger at that moment than it had been before she saw the pictures. She knew Hannah had a sort of friendship with a woman named Celeste—at least they worked together for the health of the women here. Millie hoped to get her support.

  When she approached the staircase, the bartender put down his cloth and stepped in front of her.

  “I’d like to speak with Celeste, please,” she said, pushing as much confidence into her voice as she could.

  “Nope. No one is allowed upstairs unless they’re paying customers.”

  Millie removed a leather pouch from her carpetbag. “How much?” On one hand, she hoped it was a lot, for what these women had to endure to survive was devastating. She hoped it was worth it. On the other hand, she didn’t have a lot of money.

  “You’re not a customer, and I won’t lose my job letting you pass for any amount you’re carrying.” He widened his stance, and his lips turned down in a grimace.

  Millie couldn’t let this stop her. How could she find someone to—Edwin. Edwin could get in. At that thought, she automatically walked to him with anticipation. She felt her smile fade as she recognized the terror in his expression. He knew what she was going to ask, and it was against his principles. She couldn’t ask it. There had to be another way.

  He met her gaze and repositioned her hand in his elbow. He gazed at her, then gave a stiff nod. “How much for me?”

  “A dollar,” the bartender said.

  “You don’t have to,” Millie told Edwin. Her stomach sank to her toes. “I can find another way. I’ll catch Celeste one day when she goes shopping. Or if Hannah comes to town, maybe she can get me in.”

  “’Twould be unlikely to be here at just the right moment.” Edwin took the carpetbag from Millie and handed a silver dollar to the man. “Please wait for me outside,” he told her. “You needn’t stay in here.”

  Before her hand slipped from Edwin’s arm, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Edwin turned around briefly. “For you,” was all he said. Then he walked up the stairs.

  ***

  Mama McRae watched as her son climbed to the second story with all the excitement of climbing to the gallows. She was proud of the man he was. Some men lost their way after a tragedy like he’d had, but it seemed to have grown his heart and made him feel more for others. He hadn’t opened his heart to another woman yet, but she hoped Millie was the one. Mama McRae wanted him to know that she loved and supported him. She popped to the landing at the top and met him.

  Edwin stopped when he saw her. Red coloring rose up his neck.

  “It’s a good thing you’re doing here, Edwin,” she said. His puzzled look told her he could barely hear her. She placed her hand on the carpetbag and then nodded before cupping his cheek as she had lovingly done when he was a little boy. She thought a small amount of relief registered on his face. Then she put an arm around his shoulder and walked with him to the door where the plaque said Celeste.

  When the door opened, Mama McRae was taken aback by the beautiful, pixie-like woman with fine features, but there was a little sadness to the woman’s eyes. She was dressed in a gown typical of fine ladies going out for the evening, leaving her ample chest on display.

  “Please come in,” Celeste said.

  Edwin did, and the door was shut right after him though Mama McRae walked right through it. Oh, my. I’ll never quite get used to that. The room was appointed with flocked wallpaper, lace curtains, and expensive furniture. She was surprised that it looked like a very comfortable home.

  Her son was obviously very uncomfortable here. He looked at the ceiling, the walls, and the floor.

  “Well, you’re not here for entertainment,” Celeste said with some amusement in her tone. “Otherwise you’d have looked at my chest by now. What is it you want?”

  Edwin opened the carpetbag, looking directly into her eyes. “I’d like to give you some flyers from Millie Bing. They’re about a rally for women’s right to vote. She wants to invite you and the oth
er ladies to come if you’d like.” He held several flyers toward the woman.

  “Few of them read, but I’ll take one and talk to the others about it.”

  Mama McRae thought she saw tears welling in the woman’s eyes as she read about the rally.

  “Tell Millie thanks for including us, and thank you also for helping her,” Celeste said. “I’ll try to be there, and perhaps others will join me.”

  Edwin nodded and left the room. Mama McRae felt her son’s desire to get far from this place, and that he’d like to run down the steps and he tried to restrained himself. Still near the bottom, he took them two at a time.

  ***

  Millie stood outside the saloon on the boardwalk, where she’d stood once before and been doused in beer, thinking about Edwin’s sacrifice for her. Was he interested her? Maybe she was adding meaning to the situation that he didn’t intend. He could have just seen the need and decided to help. She hoped not. She hoped it meant more to him.

  “Millie,” her brother called from down the street.

  Embarrassment flashed through her, but she pushed it away. She wasn’t doing anything wrong—actually, plenty right by contrast. She put on a smile and waved to him but didn’t walk his way. She would be right there when Edwin returned.

  When he reached her, he asked, “Can I help you with something? I wouldn’t expect to see you standing here—again.”

  “Oh. It’s nothing. Just standing.”

  “I know you, Millie. Nothing is nothing with you. What is it, and what kind of trouble will it stir up?”

  Before she could answer, Reverend Eugene Theodore stopped his wagon in front of them. His face wore a permanent scowl.

  “Have the mighty fallen, Reverend Bing?” he asked.

  At just that moment, the saloon’s batwing doors parted, and Edwin rushed out, surprising Callum and Eugene.

  “Nice to see you both this morning,” Millie said, reaching for her carpetbag from Edwin’s hand. “Good day.”

  “What were you doing in there, Mr. McRae? As the shepherd of the souls in Creede, I’m greatly saddened by your presence here—all of you.” Eugene’s voice stressed the last few words, and judgment oozed out with them.

  “Nothing wrong with talking,” Edwin told the sour reverend.

  “Were you talking with a whore?” Reverend Theodore asked. His eyes squinted toward Edwin, and his lips turned down.

  “Mind your tongue, Eugene,” Callum barked. Millie noticed his hands fisted at his sides.

  Edwin opened his mouth, but Millie pulled out a flyer and stepped up to the wagon. “They prefer to be called entertainers,” she said. “And Edwin was delivering flyers for me. Votes for Women is having a rally. We’d love to see you there.” She saw his eyes scan the page and his mouth drop open before she walked back and handed her brother a page, too.

  “We’re going back to Bachelor at four this afternoon,” Callum said to her.

  “I’ll be sewing curtains until then,” Millie answered. Then she slipped her arm though Edwin’s and walked with him toward the restaurant. She pressed her fingers to his forearm. “Thank you, Edwin. It means a lot that you went inside there for me.”

  “You’re welcome, lassie.” His face turned toward hers, and she felt as if his words caressed her.

  At thirty years old, it had easily been more than a decade since she was a lassie, but when he said it, her stomach tingled, and she fought to keep from giggling. They were almost to the restaurant when she asked, “Do you think the women will come?”

  “Celeste might, and she said she’d invite the others. She seemed touched by your invitation.”

  “I hope they do.” Millie looked behind her to make sure her brother and Eugene were gone. “I have to go to the mercantile to get some more thread for the curtains. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Before he released her hand from the crook of his elbow, he squeezed it. “Goodbye.”

  She wasn’t sure how she’d safely crossed the street. Her mind had certainly been elsewhere—mostly thinking about the midnight blue of Edwin’s eyes looking into hers. When she entered, Seffi Morgan was selecting thread too, and her daughter-in-law, Vivian, had several cut lengths of fabric folded and stacked beside her.

  Millie reached into her bag and removed a flyer as she approached the women.

  “Is this it?” Seffi asked, reaching out as Millie approached. “I want one of those flyers. I’ll put it in my hope chest to tell my great-grandchildren about the day we marched for equality.” Seffi took the paper from Millie and passed it to Vivian. “Here, you’ll need one too.”

  “I suppose you’ve heard all about it,” Millie said, handing Seffi another.

  “My, yes. From several people. I’m afraid gossip spreads faster than your handbills,” Seffi answered with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “It sounds like you’re planning to come.” Only Eliza, Julianne, and Edwin had really committed to help so far.

  “I’ll be here in my Sunday best to march beside you,” Seffi said.

  Vivian nodded. “Waylon is going to march as well. It surprised me that he felt so strongly about it. He said that rights should be for all.”

  Millie was so happy to hear of their support that she pulled them into a hug. “Thank you. I’m glad I won’t be alone. Will Holt and Boone be back in time? Where is it they went again?”

  “Telluride,” Seffi answered. “They’ve been gone for months now because they’ve got some big secret project that they won’t leave until they have it all in place. And so far, it’s not.”

  “What’s in Telluride?”

  Both women shook their heads and shrugged.

  “That must be hard on Waylon,” Millie added.

  “For them to be gone during the winter wasn’t easy,” Vivian said, “but missing them all summer has been extra hard on him. Their last letter said they expect to be back by Christmas. That’s nearly a year. Waylon must think it’s a very good reason for him to allow this, but he’s tight-lipped about the project too.”

  “I have to say that makes me curious.” Millie picked up several spools of thread.

  “I’m fairly dying with want to know,” Seffi said. “In fact, I have threatened to die if he didn’t tell me, but Waylon just smiles and says that I’ll want to wait around to see the surprise, and I can die later.”

  Millie laughed and paid for her purchase. “Thank you for wanting to help with Votes for Women.”

  “If you’ll give me a few of those flyers, Vivian and I will visit Nora Thomas and Marta Clark and the rest of the ranches out our way. We can go down to South Fork to see Reverend and Mrs. Hensley. They’re good folks. I’m sure they’ll help. I’ll take enough to invite the women I know there, too.”

  Millie gave her another hug and a stack of the papers before she left.

  She stepped out the door into the bright summer sun, but she noticed how the season was beginning to change. There had been a crispness to the morning air. Some aspen leaves were gold, and others were still green. The leaves weren’t falling yet but spun like golden tops at the end of the thin stems.

  “Miss Bing?”

  Millie stopped, her attention abruptly turning to the man in front of her. “Mr. McCormick. Good day.”

  “I was hoping to see you today. I wondered if I might take you to lunch tomorrow.”

  Millie was a little surprised, having never received that kind of invitation before. Did one just say yes? Do they think about it first, or should I talk to Callum before answering? She thought Sterling looked like he expected an answer. I’m hardly a child. “Yes. I think I’d like that. Thank you. I’ll be in Creede tomorrow morning. What time should I be ready?”

  “I’ll pick you up at the restaurant at noon. I look forward to it.” Sterling’s replying smile looked genuine and pleasant. Millie just wished it made her tingle the way the rare ones from Edwin did. Still, Mr. McCormick seemed to be a good man.

  “Tomorrow,” Millie said, raising her hand to say go
odbye. She was happy to spend some time with him, and, who knew, she might develop friendship and love for him. After all, it likely takes time for all of that. She thought things might be changing with Edwin, but she’d thought that before. She wished she knew what it was supposed to be like to fall in love. She was sure she was making a muddle of this. Oh, bother. Having a picnic with a friend was a wonderful way to spend an afternoon anyway.

  She walked slowly toward the restaurant and noticed footfalls beside her. Her hand went to her chest, and she looked over at Mama M. “You could give me heart failure, popping in beside me like that.”

  “I’m sorry, truly I am. It seemed like a good time to help you.”

  “So . . .” Millie couldn’t say it. She’d thought about how she’d met the woman and then how she’d just disappeared, and now she was back.

  “Yes,” Mama M said.

  Millie looked at her. She knew there was confusion on her face. Could she really be an angel?

  “Well, not an angel-angel,” she answered as Millie’s eyes grew round and wide. “I’m a guardian angel. We are given assignments to do this and that. I’m here to help you.”

  “Help me with what?” Millie noticed a wagon rumbling toward them. She pulled the older woman by the arm back to the boardwalk.

  “Help you decide who to marry.”

  Millie began shaking her head and paced toward the back of the building beside her. “I’m not getting married. No one has asked me.” Millie wondered why Mama M thought so, but she secretly hoped it was true. “I’m thirty years old, and I’ve never before had a suitor. Now, I might have two, and I don’t know what to do.”

  A debate raged in Millie’s head. It started with what Julianne had said about Edwin and Sterling. Mama M nodded. Millie wondered if she had feelings toward either man—enough to court, enough to commit to living her life with him. She thought she might for Edwin. Mama M crossed one arm in front of her and leaned her elbow on it, placing her finger on her cheek.