by Carré White
The waitress placed the dishes before us. “I do believe I’m going to enjoy watching you eat,” he chuckled.
I wasn’t able to speak, having thrust a heaping forkful of beef into my mouth, listening to him offer up a prayer before he reached for his fork. “Mum … oh … mum ... ”
Chapter 5
I collapsed onto the bed, the springs beneath the mattress creaking. “I’ve never been so full in my entire life.” But it felt glorious.
Pastor Kinsley stood in the doorway. “You’re welcome.”
“The baby’s kicking up a storm. He’s squirming all inside me. He’s so happy for the food too. You should feel it. He’s gotten so big, I can feel him turning all the way around inside there sometimes.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Lifting myself onto an elbow, while holding my head in the palm of my hand, I gazed at Nicolas. “You’re a very nice man. I sure am astonished you’re not married. I can’t imagine a girl refusing you after a meal like that.”
Before he could say anything, a woman appeared behind him. “Here are the towels, sir.”
“Thank you, May.” He handed them to me. “For your bath.”
“I can’t wait to try that newfangled, indoor plumbing. It’s a treat to use the privy without worrying about falling in.”
“It’s a novelty, all right. You’ll find soap and things for washing. I’m going to leave you now, Celia. I’ve some matters to contend with, and I need to find Mrs. Hershey. You’ve yet to see a doctor.”
“Oh, the baby’s just fine. He’s happy as a clam with all that food.”
He nodded, grinning. “Try not to drown in the bath, will you?”
“I can’t swim. I sure hope I can keep my head above water.”
“And lock the door. You don’t want someone walking in on you. It’s a communal sort of thing, so you should be mindful of that. Always knock before entering as well.”
“Good advice.”
“I’ll see you soon then.”
“Will there be an enormous supper?”
“I’ll talk to Mrs. Hershey about that. I’m not sure what she’s got planned. Your meals will have to be arranged, since this is not a room and board arrangement. I have a small kitchen and so do the other tenants, but this is the smallest apartment in the building.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t look so crestfallen, Celia. We won’t let you starve.”
“I’ve always starved. A meal like that would’ve seen me for three days easy.”
His smile dropped. “I’m sorry to hear that. You need nourishment. You’re carrying a baby.”
I shrugged. “We’re pretty hardy.” I reached into my mouth, feeling the hole near a molar. “I lost a tooth last month. It just fell out all on its own without any prodding or anything. That sure was strange.”
“Lack of nutrition.” Now he frowned in earnest. “I’ll be back later, Celia. You go have your bath.”
“Thank you kindly, Nicolas. When I go to church on Sunday, I’ll be in the front pew, and I’ll sing your praises to everybody. I’ve never met a kinder man in my life.”
This compliment seemed to embarrass him. “That’s not necessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He exited the room, while I grinned like a happy cat, feeling as full as a tick. “Things are looking up, Noah. We’re in like flint. I’m gonna do whatever I can to give you a nice life. I’m sorry for starving you before, but I promise not to do that ever again. It’s gravy and potatoes from here on out.” I slid from the bed. “Now, I gotta take a bath. I guess I must stink something awful, but I don’t really smell it. Other people seem to, I suppose.” I shrugged. “I don’t put much stock in soap and water, but I feel obliged to give it a try. It certainly can’t hurt.”
Having locked the door to the water closet, I was amazed to discover that not only was there cool running water, but hot as well, although it felt lukewarm. I filled the bathtub halfway, stepping out of my clothing, as I did not wear a corset and the drawers had already fallen to the floor. They had once been white with frilly trim around the legs, but the trim had frayed, and the fabric looked nearly tan now.
Stepping into the tub, I glanced at my protruding belly, noticing it was far lighter in color than my arms and legs. I grasped a bar of lemon-scented soap and a cloth and scrubbed from top to bottom. It felt slightly abrasive, the suds stinging my skin, but it did the job admirably well, because the water had turned grey.
Releasing the stopper at the bottom, I watched as the water escaped, disappearing to nowhere. Then I rotated the knob, allowing for more water, and continued to scrub as best I could. I cleansed my face as well, and then my hair, using a bottle someone had left near the washbasin. The contents smelled of lavender and the clear-like fluid lathered after I poured it on my head. The water had turned gray again. I shivered now, because I had used all the warm water available, yet I remained determined to continue until I was as clean as possible.
Once satisfied with the effort, I pulled out the stopper and watched, mesmerized at how the tub emptied itself. I could easily grow accustomed to indoor plumbing. Stepping from the bath, I dried thoroughly and donned the only clean dress I possessed. In my room, I managed to brush the tangles from my hair while yawning. Although the effort had exhausted me, I soon discovered how comfortable the bed felt, as I laid my head upon the pillow and closed my eyes. An insistent knock woke me some time later, and I struggled to rouse from the blissful slumber.
“Hold your horses.” Opening the door a crack, I glanced out. “Pastor Kinsley.”
“How are you?”
“Fine. I’m clean now.”
He smiled. “I’m happy to hear it.”
“I didn’t drown. Didn’t even come close.”
“Mrs. Hershey will be glad.”
Opening the door further, I stood before him in bare feet. “Did you speak to the doctor?”
“He’ll see you tomorrow.”
“All right.” I had closed the drapes earlier. “It’s dark in here. I won’t be a minute.” Pulling on the heavy material, sunlight streamed in. “There. Now we don’t have to talk in the dark.”
“That’s quite an improvement.”
“Pardon?”
“Your hair is lighter than I thought. I see some red in there. It’s a very pretty color.”
I had not expected praise. “Gosh, it’s a mess.” It hung past my shoulders in tangled waves. “It’s still damp.”
“The reason I’m here is that I’ve spoken to Mrs. Wexler. She’ll see you soon to welcome you to the residence. I told her about your situation, and she understands fully.”
“I’ve been thinking. I need a job. I can’t live here and not pay for a darn thing. I can’t do that.”
“Don’t worry about it right now. It’ll all work itself out.” He pulled something from his waistcoat. “And this is for you.”
A book came my way. I read the title, “‘Vanity Fair’”.
“Yes, I think you might like it.” He grinned. “It’s a bit of a satire of English society. I found it vastly amusing. I hope you will too.”
Astounded at having been given a book, I hardly knew what to say. “Oh, my. I can’t believe it. It’s so pretty.” The leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands. “I won’t keep it long, I swear.”
“There’s no need to rush. You may read it at your leisure. It’s how books are meant to be enjoyed. You shouldn’t have to hurry through something in a few hours. Savor it.”
My grin broadened. “Oh, I will.”
“Why don’t you make yourself presentable, and I’ll introduce you to Mrs. Wexler. Then we’ll see about dinner.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s just Nicolas.”
Grinning, I gaped at him. “As you wish.”
“Come to my room when you’re ready.”
I closed the door with a flourish, nearly giddy with excitement. I longed to fling myself upon the bed and read, but it would have
to wait until later. Hurrying to fix my hair, I managed to scrape it into a messy bun, stuffing it inside the bonnet. After tying my boots, I was ready to face the possibility of another hearty and delicious meal, my belly grumbling noisily.
After I left the room, I encountered Mrs. Hershey in the hallway. “Hello.”
“There you are. Have you rested?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m to take you to dinner.”
“I was supposed to go to Pastor Kinsley’s room. He told me to meet him there.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Here he is now, my dear. We’re going to dinner, and I want to introduce you to my husband.”
“Oh, how nice.”
Pastor Kinsley approached, smiling. “I see you’re here already.”
“I am,” said Doris. “Let’s go out. This hallway is dreadfully dark.”
“After you, ladies.” He gestured politely.
As I passed, he smelled lovely, having donned some sort of woodsy cologne. I drew closer, longing to inhale the fragrance, but I was forced to walk ahead, not being able to linger. Once we had left the building, Mrs. Hershey turned to me.
“Heavens to Betsy! I could hardly see a thing inside, but you look much improved, Celia. I thought you were gray, but your skin is peaches and cream, isn’t it, Nicolas?”
“It is indeed.”
“And hair shot through with gold and reds. It’s very pretty.”
I had never received so many compliments, feeling my cheeks flame. “Th-thank you very much.”
“I really don’t see any reason why this pretty young lady can’t find a husband, even in Boot Creek. I knew there was promise there. I’ve some clothing I found in a trunk just today that might fit you. They belonged to my daughter, Milly, before she left for school. I doubt she would mind in the least, if you were to wear them.”
“I would, but I don’t think they’d fit.”
Mrs. Hershey sighed. “I know, but they would after you have the baby. I’ll talk to Teresa Butterfield at the mercantile and see if she has some larger dresses for you to use now. You can give them back when you don't need them anymore.”
We walked towards the street, the hues of evening darkening the avenue. Shops had closed their doors and the shades had been drawn. The din of the saloon could be heard—the laughing and singing of male voices.
“That’s far too kind, but I’ve got two good dresses. I just need to wash one.”
“Think nothing of it, my dear. If you wish to secure a husband, you’ll have to present yourself in the best possible light. Once I’ve got you trussed up finer than a Christmas turkey, it won’t be long before you’re at the church saying wedding vows.”
I glanced at Nicolas to assess his reaction, finding that his profile appealed to me. A shorn, blondish beard graced his cheeks, while a trimmed mustache grew above the lips. A slightly crooked nose did little to detract from the handsomeness of his appearance. He seemed to sense my appraisal, because he turned to look at me.
“It sounds like she’s got you all sorted, Celia.”
“Yes, it does.” We would dine at the hotel restaurant again, because we neared the building. “I do love eating here. The portions are generous.”
Pastor Kinsley held open the door. “Ladies.”
“Thank you. I see my husband!” Mrs. Hershey darted down the entranceway, past the counter where a startled worker gaped. “Darling. Come meet Boot Creek’s newest resident.”
The rotund man in a snug fitting frock coat scowled. “You need to stop this mail order farce at once, Doris. No more catalogue women, you hear?”
“Oh, stop it, Ralph. I’m providing a valuable service to needy young ladies and lonely men. And it gives me something to do when I’ve completed all my social obligations.” She pivoted to look at me. “Don’t be shy. Come meet my husband. This is Mayor Hershey.”
Nicolas encouraged me to go forward. “He won’t bite.”
“H-hello.” I nodded to him.
“She’s as big as a house!” he exclaimed in a slightly gravely voice. “What in the blazes have you gone and done now, woman?”
Doris smiled tentatively, chagrin written all over her face. “I’ve gotten into a little bit of a muddle, but I do believe Pastor Kinsley will help us out.”
“I will?” Nicolas glanced between us, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “How so?”
“The providence of the Lord will reveal all in good time.” Doris clutched her husband’s arm. “Now, let’s eat. We shouldn’t keep Celia standing so long. It’s terrible for her circulation.”
I met Nicolas’s gaze, my heart skipping a beat or two. He said nothing, his eyes roaming over my face. Then he guided me towards the dining room, where a smart set of people had gathered dressed in silks and satins, the women in elaborate headgear and the men just as well heeled.
Everyone seemed to turn to watch us, all talking ceasing. I swallowed my nervousness, feeling entirely out of place.
Chapter 6
I ordered curried fish over rice with vegetables, while Mr. and Mrs. Hershey had the Roast Grouse. Pastor Kinsley ordered the Chicken a la Cream. Once everything had been delivered, I gazed in wonder at the artfully arranged dishes. Relaxed and assured, Nicolas drank wine, while Mr. and Mrs. Hershey had lemonade, although the waiter had brought over a bottle of red, which Mr. Hershey said he would sample shortly.
“So, what are your plans, my dear?” asked Mr. Hershey. “How do you intend to remedy this disaster?”
“I think it’s premature to call it a disaster, Ralph. We mustn’t think so negatively.”
“I’m a pragmatist at heart. I’ve seen more than enough destitute women in the streets of this town to know where this is going.”
“Not if I can help it.” She cut into a piece of meat vigorously. “I will not admit defeat before the battle has begun. I’m collecting a list of eligible bachelors as we speak, and I plan to arrange meetings soon enough. There are socials during the week and church functions after the service on Sunday. There are plenty of opportunities for men and women to meet.”
“Good thinking,” said Nicolas. “Although the pickings are rather slim. Who would you put at the top of the list, Doris?”
“I would … consider Harvey Wood. He’s a fine man with a—”
“That you say!” chortled Mr. Hershey, his belly heaving as he laughed. “Harvey Wood? There’s a reason his wife left him. I don’t think you want to expose Mrs. Wellington that sort of trouble.”
Mrs. Hershey’s mouth hung open. “Whatever do you mean? He has a fine job working at the post office, and I can’t see any reason why he wouldn’t be suitable for Celia. Is there something I need to know about his character? If there is, please speak up.” The men at the table remained mute, Nicolas stabbing at a carrot with a fork. Mr. Hershey reached for a glass. “Cowards. I suppose I’ll have to cross him off the list then, but I still maintain he’s perfect for Celia.” She glanced at Nicolas. “What objection do you have to Mr. Wood?”
“None.”
“That’s a lie. I can tell from your expression that you’re hiding something.” Her tone held hints of chastisement, but she wasn’t really angry. “For shame. You people are absolutely no help.”
“I hate to be blunt, my dear,” said Mr. Hershey. “But Mrs. Wellington’s condition will be a rather large hindrance in procuring a husband. I’m sorry to have to put it out there in such a manner, but there it is.” He glanced at me. “No offense, young lady. I’m sure you’re a marvelous person, but you do come encumbered, and most men don’t wish for such a thing.”
“I know.”
“Let’s speak about something nice,” said Nicolas. “Doesn’t Mrs. Wellington’s skin glow in the candlelight? When I first met you, I could’ve sworn you’d been baking in the sun for years. All it took was soap and water to reveal that lovely complexion.”
This declaration caught Mrs. Hershey’s attention, her eyes darting between us. “Yes, indeed,” she agre
ed heartily. “She is a very handsome woman. I’m entirely glad you noticed, Nicolas.” Her mind appeared to be churning with ideas, while her husband rolled his eyes.
“Excuse me a moment, will you?” The Mayor got to his feet. “I want to have a word with Sheriff Ballew.” He dropped the napkin on the table.
Once he left, Mrs. Hershey said, “I wonder if I should be so bold as to add you to the list of potential suitors, Nicolas?”
He had taken a sip of wine, coughing. “Oh, that’s not necessary, Doris. Thank you.”
Having finished the fish, I dabbed at my mouth with a napkin, eager to hear what would be said next.
Nicolas’s smile had vanished. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Why not? You’re one of the eligible bachelors in town. Everyone’s wondering when you’ll marry. You’re here to set an example. Don’t you think finding a wife and having a family would go a long way towards that end?”
“You sound like my mother now.”
“How old are you, Nicolas, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Mrs. Hershey,” he said sternly. “I am not the one you’re matchmaking. It’s Celia Wellington who’s in need of your services. I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you very much.”
“But are you? Wouldn’t you want a pretty little thing like Celia to keep you company? She’s awfully fond of eating. I’m sure she’d learn to cook your favorite meals and keep your house nice and tidy. In time, you might find you have common interests. Most couples don’t even realize they’re in love until three years into marriage.” She smiled. “If not longer.”
“Where in tarnation did you hear that?” He wasn’t truly angry, because his eyes twinkled.
“I overheard it at a ladies’ luncheon. Oh, it doesn’t matter. I really do think I should add you to the list.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?” I had refrained from speaking until that moment, but curiosity had gotten the best of me.
