by Carré White
“She’s a babbling fool. I’ve never met someone so senseless.”
“That’s not what he thinks.” Leona began to pull the pins out of her hair. “None of these miners are staying. There are some handsome ones, but who’s to say how many of them have wives at home? They’re happy to play and flirt, but they won’t make a girl a serious offer, you know that. I’m in no mood to be trifled with by someone who’s dishonest.”
“I agree.”
“I want someone unencumbered and ready to settle in Cripple Creek. I’ve no desire to leave.”
“Every girl should have her standards.”
“What are yours?”
I hadn’t even given it a thought, as I knew I would never marry. “I…the same as anyone else’s. Truthfulness, dependability, a pleasant demeanor, and the like. Those sorts of things.”
“I certainly don’t wish to marry someone who has an eye for all the ladies or spends his evening at the saloon. No, thank you.”
“Me either.”
She yawned. “I’m going to bed.”
“Have you chosen what you’ll wear to church tomorrow?”
“Not yet. I’ll do it in the morning.”
I fluffed a pillow behind my head. “I’m looking forward to an easy day.”
“Me too. Let’s say our prayers and turn the lamp down.”
Ellen and I had made an assortment of breads and pastries for the Sunday breakfast, which could be eaten with chunks of ham. A large cauldron of soup, with enough meat and vegetables, would satisfy the boarders well enough for dinner. This was how we managed the meals on Sunday, giving us a much-needed respite.
After waking, I dressed in a plaid, silk taffeta morning dress, with a matching bonnet. While Leona parted her hair down the center and worked the tresses into a bun, I fastened my half boots, readying myself to go down. Ma and pa waited below, as laughter and talking spilled from the dining room. Ellen had brought out the breads and pastries, feeding everyone without our assistance.
“You girls look handsome,” said pa, who had donned breeches and a pressed sack coat. He normally wore overalls, as he was working in the attic, but he would never dress like that for church. “Shall we.” He pointed to the door.
Ma breezed by. “Don’t forget your bonnet, Leona.”
“I’m trying.” She fussed with her hair. “This pin is jabbing me. Ouf!”
I followed mother out, breathing deep the morning air, although the stench of horse maneuver was ever-present. The culprit was the thoroughfare, as dozens of animals had already been through here. The church services were typically well attended; the citizens of Cripple Creek dressed in their Sunday best, sporting freshly washed hair and squeaky-clean faces. From beneath my bonnet, I observed people, noting that several of the miners had taken up with a few widows, Mrs. McAllister being one of them. Trudy Osborne also seemed to be with a new man. More than one miner glanced our way, but their attention was always on Leona. She was oblivious to the stir she created wherever she went, not realizing her pretty blonde looks attracted appreciative stares.
We filed into the church, sitting in a pew several aisles from the pulpit, while other families joined us. The service, lead by Pastor Lloyd, was always worth listening to, as he spoke from personal experience and from the wealth of knowledge in the Bible. His son, Benjamin, glanced over his shoulder at Leona several times. I didn't want to feel envious of my sister, but she had certainly captured his attention, and, once the service had concluded, we got to our feet, ready to leave.
“He stares at you, Leona,” I murmured.
“Who?” Her eyes were wide.
“Benjamin Lloyd. Look! Here he comes.”
Indeed, the stoic-faced man, who wore a sack coat and necktie, approached, smiling. “You’re not leaving so soon, are you?”
“I’m afraid we must,” said Leona.
“That’s a shame.”
“I’ll see you girls at home,” said ma, who hurried to follow pa, as he had already left the building.
People loitered, some speaking with Pastor Lloyd, while women chatted amongst themselves. Most weren’t able to socialize during the week, because they lived further in the mountains or miles away in the valley. This was their only opportunity to trade news and gossip; even important events such as Indian attacks and mail disruptions were discussed.
“I was hoping you might allow me to accompany you on a walk.” Benjamin looked expectant, while clasping his hands behind his back.
I couldn’t help feeling that he was genuine in his affections. “We could walk, Leona. There’s no harm in a little exercise and fresh air.”
“I…suppose so.”
I had never known my sister to be bashful, and her behavior was perplexing. “I’ll follow behind you…so you can…talk.”
She glanced at me, widening her eyes, which revealed vexation. For whatever reason, she was hesitant to be with Benjamin, but I would love a walk, even though I was not the one being courted. I’d been living vicariously through Leona for years, and that certainly wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.
Instead of wandering down the filthy thoroughfare through town, we took a path behind the mercantile, after passing an alley. From there, we neared the woods, with the lush, green rolling hills of the valley appearing in the distance. This path was pretty, bordered by a variety of pines and Cottonwoods. Benjamin didn’t seem to mind that I followed, and I kept my own pace, wanting to give them some modicum of privacy. I was barely able to hear the conversation.
“Are you adverse to me?” he asked.
“What?”
“I’m sorry for speaking so bluntly, but I really must know if there is something you dislike about me. Is it my looks, my character? Do I dress too simply?”
“Whatever are you talking about?”
“I’ve tried to speak to you before, and you were almost hostile.”
Leona had stopped walking. “I was?”
“You’re outgoing with everyone else. You smile and laugh. I’ve seen it often enough, otherwise I’d wonder if you ever did so. But then I try to speak to you, and you don’t seem to have anything to say.”
I loitered near a tree, pretending to examine it.
“I’m sorry if that’s your impression of me.”
“If I disgust you, please tell me so.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. This was the last thing I expected.”
“I’m tired of beating about the bush, Leona. I’ve fancied you for quite a while now. I want to spend more time with you, but I’m not sure my feelings are reciprocated.”
“It’s ungentlemanly to be so bold.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s come to this,” he said forcefully. “If you hate me, if you want me to leave you alone, then I will. I’ll go elsewhere for companionship, but it won’t be easy. One word from you will determine what I shall do.”
I glanced at Leona, who appeared dumbfounded; her eyes were wide, while her mouth hung open. “I…I don’t hate you.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.” I wanted to say something, to come to her defense, but I knew keeping silent was the only option. For whatever reason, my sister had been rendered speechless, as she stared at him. It was impossible to know what was going on in her mind. In the next instant, Benjamin took hold of her face, murmuring, “You can slap me afterwards, but I want to kiss you.”
My sister offered little resistance, leaning into, not away from Mr. Lloyd, while her hands came to rest on his jacket. His arms suddenly enfolded her, bringing her even closer. I knew then that Leona had met her match. Tears formed in my eyes, while I tried desperately not to watch, but the scene was too sweet, too emotional not to observe it. To inspire such passion—such yearning in another, must be a humbling thing, but I would never be able to do the same.
When they had at last pulled apart, Benjamin murmured, “That’s what I thought.”
“What?”
“You aren’t indifferent.”
“No. I’m…just a jumble of nerves when I’m near you. I…don’t know why.”
He grinned. “May I come to call? I’d dearly like to spend more time with you.”
“I can’t think of a reason to object.” She glanced my way. “Willow, what say you? Should I let Mr. Lloyd court me?”
The happiness I felt for my sister was nearly overwhelming. “You should indeed.”
Chapter Five
I would never begrudge someone their happiness, and seeing my sister and Benjamin Lloyd together lifted my spirits as well. He was a steady, pleasant, and handsome man, who entertained Leona nearly every day after their unexpected kiss. He brought flowers, chocolates, and even a music box, which now sat upon the dresser in our bedroom. Leona kept nothing from me, whispering all of her secrets when we were alone. When she spoke, I imagined these things were really happening to me. I was being courted, kissed, and bestowed with gifts. But, of course, I really wasn’t.
Occasionally, when I was exhausted and downtrodden after a long day of work, I thought of Mr. Hindman, wondering where he was and if he was well. He said he had decided to prospect, and I listened sometimes to the miners talking, as they relayed information unknowingly, but I never heard his name mentioned. Cooking, cleaning, and other chores stole the time away, as it was possible for an entire week to drift by in a flurry of activity. It was nearly October before I realized I would have to plan for enough turkeys for the Thanksgiving Day feast, in which the people staying at our hotel would share.
I loathed venturing into town, preferring to hide in the sanctuary of the kitchen, but ma and I often went, scouring the warehouse behind the mercantile for supplies. The spices and bags of flour needed for baking ran out quickly when feeding dozens of people every day, although we had our own smokehouse and chicken pen. Pa had gone to the mountains to shoot a buck or two, which we would wrap securely and keep frozen in the cellar on a massive block of ice. There were slabs of beef as well.
It was while in town that I received the shock of my life. Hating to be seen in public, I kept my head down mostly, preferring to stare at the ground instead of having to smile and greet every stranger that crossed my path. Mother had gone into the post office, while I waited for her, standing near a hitching post, although I used the fattest beam as a barrier, hiding myself. From here I was able to observe several ladies entering the post office, eager to mail their letters, while miners, some on horseback, had arrived to do the same.
A wagon ambled up the street, under the direction of Cybele Houston, who wore a lovely yellow flared skirt with a fitted bodice. Her bonnet was heavily trimmed, a broad sheaf of lace tied beneath her throat. She seemed intent on bringing her horse in, although there wasn’t much room between the animals that were already waiting. Confounded, her expression hardened, while she craned her neck, searching for someplace to leave the animal. She’d moved down a store, securing the mare to the hitching post before the barbershop, although several men stood on the boardwalk staring at her.
The attention hadn’t bothered her in the least, and one man in particular, whom I knew as one of the proprietors of William’s freight company, Mr. Cockle, had stopped to gape as well. He cut a fine figure in a tailored sack coat and breeches, his hand in his pocket. As Cybele strode towards the post office, Mr. Cockle hurried behind her. While people passed in both directions, he neared, extending his hand, and I realized he meant to give her something, which looked like a letter. As he passed, he reached inside a side pocket in her skirt, depositing the secret missive, although it fell to the boardwalk instead. Cybele, upon seeing him, smiled brightly, her little pink mouth separating, exposing straight white teeth. She was quite happy at his proximity, although neither realized that the transfer of the letter had failed and the envelope now lay on the boardwalk, being stepped on by several dirty boots.
Cybele had gone into the post office, while Mr. Cockle continued down the street, crossing at one point and hastening to his horse. He cast one last glance over his shoulder; the look was furtive, and suspicious.
My mother appeared a moment later. “It’s good. We may go. I’ve heard from your cousin in Philadelphia. From the size of the letter, we’ve a great deal of news to catch up on.”
Instinct had taken over, as I rushed towards where Mr. Cockle’s letter had gone, snatching the envelope from the boardwalk and depositing it in my skirt. “Is there anything else we must do?” I glanced at her hopefully, wanting desperately to go home. I knew I should not read someone else’s correspondence, but curiosity had gotten the better of me, and the letter I now had in my possession seemed to be burning a hole in my pocket.
“Yes, we’re done. Goodness,” she exclaimed, as people passed. “What a crush.” She untied our mare, stepping onto the wagon and positioning herself on the seat. “Let’s go then. Heaven knows we’ve a good deal to finish before supper.”
I sat next to her, my mind elsewhere, and, while she drove, I couldn’t help wondering what secrets the letter would reveal. Once at the hotel, I hurried to help mother unload our things, while desiring a moment to myself. I found Leona in the dining room, chatting with pa.
Tugging on her sleeve, I whispered, “I need to speak to you.”
“All right. What is it?”
I pulled her away. “In private.” We were in the hallway now, heading towards our room. “You’re not going to believe this, but I inadvertently intercepted a secret letter.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Mr. Cockle tried to put this,” I held up the envelope, “in Cybele Houston’s pocket. It fell to the boardwalk instead, and neither of them has a clue.”
Her mouth hung open. “Oh, my…stars. You can’t read that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s…it’s private!”
We were in the bedroom, as I closed the door behind us. “It’s not private when it’s out in the open, laying on the ground.”
She sat on the bed, crossing her legs. “Oh, fireballs! What’s he doing communicating with her? Not only is he married, but she’s all but engaged to William Stanford.”
“I’m well aware of that.” I eyed the letter, finding that it hadn’t been sealed properly, as there was no wax. “This should be easy.” I pulled forth a folded piece of paper. “I’m thinking it’s a love letter.”
“I can’t believe we’re actually going to read it.”
I shrugged. “It was on the boardwalk. It’s hardly my fault, if I see rubbish and pick it up, is it?”
“You devious little thing.” Her smile was genuine. “All right, read it, but be warned. You may not like what you find. It might shatter whatever illusions you have about people.”
“Indeed. I would be disappointed if it didn’t.”
Her mouth fell open. “Where has this devilish side been hiding, my dear?”
“I haven’t a clue,” I giggled. “I’ve a need for a distraction. This shall provide ample amusement for us, for at least five minutes.”
“If you say so.”
“All right. Here it is, although his penmanship is lacking.”
Dearest Cybele,
Please forgive me for this correspondence, but you have left me no choice in the matter. I trust this letter finds you well. I will have you know that not one day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you. I miss your touch, your kiss, and the sweet things you were so prone to whispering to me, when we were alone on our many walks. Did none of these moments mean a thing to you? Or was I a diversion to pass the time while you waited for William to return? I know that I am hardly in a position to demand anything from you. However, I am greatly wounded by your cavalier attitude and lack of feeling for my wretched situation. It grieves me to see you with him. It is a pain I have never had the misfortune of experiencing before. I beg you to see me again. I must hold you, my darling. I will leave it up to you to name the time and place.
Yours truly,
John.
I glanced at Leona.
“O
h, my…” She chewed her fingernail. “What a tangled web that woman has woven.”
“It sounds like she was busy while William was away.”
“So it seems. I’m still digesting it all. He’s married, for heaven’s sakes. Why would he continue to seek her out?”
“He’s madly in love.”
“Nothing good will come of that. He won’t leave his wife, and Cybele is going to marry William.”
If William knew of his beloved’s treachery, would he cast her aside? An image of us holding hands behind a tree floated before me, as if it were attached to a string that I was meant to pull. But, he would never seriously consider me as anything more than a friend.
“What do we do with the letter?” I asked.
She sighed. “I don’t know. You probably shouldn’t have picked it up. I feel…unclean now for having read it. It’s quite shocking really.”
“I could give it to William.”
“You can’t mean that! You aren’t seriously thinking of that, are you, Willow?”
“No. I couldn't do it.” I sat next to her. “I thought they were perfectly happy. Well, perhaps they are. Maybe she was lonesome in his absence, and she enjoyed toying with Mr. Cockle.”
“She’s a hopeless flirt then. Any man attached to her will have to put up with her indiscretions.”
“That’s true.”
“You should burn it.”
“But then the lovers won’t meet.”
“They shouldn’t.”
“I’ll think of something.”
“It’s already too late. If you hand her the letter, she’ll know you’ve read it. She’ll know you know her secret.”
“Why do I care? She was once a friend of mine, until I was disfigured with the smallpox. Now she can’t get away from me fast enough.”
“I hear bitterness in your voice. Please don’t use this letter to exact revenge. I say, burn it. He will think she’s read it and doesn’t care one wit about him. It might help him to break the ties. If she continues to see him, more pain will come to all concerned. This is the swiftest way to end it for both of them.”
“You’re right.”
