A Shelter of Hope

by Tracie Peterson

  Simone nodded. “I heard that, too. Still, you can’t fault the man for wanting things nice. I’ve never seen the likes of such elegance. I sure never knew you could have matched sets of dishes like the ones on our tables. We were lucky to have a cup and a plate to call our own.”

  “Ja,” Una said with a laugh. “I have ten brothers and sisters, and most of the time we shared plates between us.”

  “Ten brothers and sisters,” Simone said, trying to imagine what it might be like to have so many siblings. She remembered baby John and how much he had cried. Beyond that, she had the tiniest recollection that there had been twins born to her mother, but they had died very young, when Simone herself hadn’t been very old.

  Una seemed not to realize the effect her discussion had on Simone. She hurried around the room, dressing as she went, then finally came to Simone in order to have her do up the buttons on the back of her dress.

  “I’ll see you later. Don’t forget the thread,” Una admonished and then was gone.

  Simone smiled. It was something she was now given to doing from time to time, and in spite of her fears, smiling felt good. The comfort of the Harvey House routine and the kindness of the people she worked with were beginning to soften the hard encasement she’d wrapped her heart in. For the first time in years, Simone was pushing aside her shield … and truly feeling.

  Dressing quickly, Simone pulled on her blue serge skirt and a worn white shirtwaist that Una had given her. She had long since learned the secrets of tending her heavy black hair and quickly and efficiently wound it into a coil and pinned it high atop her head. The weeks at the Harvey House had been good for her. She had learned much and would continue to learn if given the chance. She felt an eagerness inside to absorb as much as possible—as quickly as possible, for fear that it might one day soon be taken away from her. She had listened to the girls share secrets about their lives, watched and accepted lessons on embroidery, cooking, and etiquette, and found it all so very fascinating.

  Topeka was much smaller than Chicago but more stately and populated than Laramie. It boasted the honor of being the state capital, and even though the capitol building was still under construction, government made its mark on the growing town. Walking from the Topeka depot west to Kansas Avenue, Simone tried to take in everything at once. She wanted to experience this city and know the meaning of belonging to a community. She had spent so much of her life in a solitary existence that she felt like a new creature just come to life.

  Rachel had told her about the opera house and the theater, as well as the various parks, where all manner of entertainment could be enjoyed. There were even plans in the works for several of the Harvey Girls to journey across the river and enjoy Fourth of July festivities at Garfield Park. Marshall’s Military Band would provide hours of music for their enjoyment, the natatorium would be open for swimming, and boats could be rented for rides up and down Soldier Creek. It all sounded so very charming to Simone, and she found herself looking forward to the day with great enthusiasm—at least on the inside. On the outside, she was still given to guarding her feelings and keeping her reactions in check. It would do little good to set herself up for further pain and disappointment. Especially now when the nightmares had stopped and the memories were fading into a numb blur.

  Of course, Jeffery O’Donnell’s return to Topeka on the second of July brought a new realm of emotions to Simone. She tried not to think about his arrival as she walked with a determined purpose toward the busier parts of town. Jeffery might well be her undoing, and Simone knew she would have to be particularly careful when it came to him.

  Thoughts of the mild-mannered man caused Simone to quiver. The image of Jeffery’s sincere face and dark brown eyes invaded her mind. He was one of the first men who had ever looked at her without leering, and even though she knew he found her attractive, Simone was aware of the respect he had for her and wasn’t offended by his attention. On the contrary, she felt overwhelmed by his interest and open desire to seek out her company. She had tried to convince herself that this interest was simply a part of Jeffery doing his job, but several of the girls had told her otherwise. They thought it wonderful that the clearly well-to-do Mr. O’Donnell should have an eye for a lowly Harvey Girl. Most of the girls married into the railroad family by acquiring husbands from the pool of hardworking rail shop and yard workers or various other employees who occupied positions on the Santa Fe payroll. But that Simone should have the attention of a man in Jeffery O’Donnell’s position seemed a fairy tale come true.

  “Simone!” a voice called out from behind her just as Simone reached Kansas Avenue. Turning, she found Rachel Taylor hurrying to catch up with her. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Simone shook her head. “Not at all. If I’d known you were planning to come to town, I would have waited for you.” And she meant it. Simone liked Rachel and appreciated the kindness the older woman had shown her.

  “I wasn’t sure I could find the time to slip away, so I didn’t say anything,” Rachel managed to say between huffing and puffing for breath. “This humidity surely does a body in.”

  “Yes,” Simone agreed. She glanced upward to the billowing white clouds set against a rich sapphire blue. “But the day certainly looks pleasant enough.”

  “It does indeed. Where are you headed?” Rachel questioned.

  “I’m going to buy dress material. I’ve been wanting to make something else to wear,” Simone said, frowning as she looked down at her well-worn outfit. “Una said we could probably manage to put it together in time for the celebration.”

  “Hmm, that gives you till Friday. Four days. That ought to be enough time. Say, I know just the place. Crosby Brothers is up the next block.”

  “And you think they’ll have a good selection?” Simone questioned hopefully.

  “Absolutely. And better yet, the prices will be reasonable.”

  Simone smiled. Rachel Taylor was a fair-minded woman with a keen sense of organization, and she kept a watchful eye on her girls like any good mother would.

  They walked up the avenue in companionable silence, and only after crossing Fifth Street did Rachel point to the building marked Crosby Brothers. “Here we are,” she said, taking Simone by the arm.

  They passed the day in girlish laughter and amiable friendship. Simone had never known a time when she had enjoyed herself more. It still amazed her that people could be so openly friendly and pleasant. When lunchtime came Rachel insisted on buying Simone a treat, and together the women sat down and continued to share about their lives.

  “I wish you wouldn’t have spent so much on lunch,” Simone said, thoroughly enjoying her fruit salad. It wasn’t as good as Henri’s, but it would do.

  “You needn’t worry about that,” Rachel told her with a smile that reinforced her sincerity. “You won’t get paid for another week, and I know you’ve already spent most of your money.”

  “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t needed to buy black shoes when I first arrived here,” Simone commented, remembering her mad dash around town to find an inexpensive pair of shoes that would meet the Harvey House demands.

  “But everything else has been pretty much taken care of,” Rachel countered. “You can’t say that Mr. Harvey doesn’t know how to take care of his people.”

  “That’s true enough.”

  Rachel polished off a piece of sponge cake and sat back to study Simone. “You are a good worker, Simone. I’ve been very pleased with your performance, and in a short time you’ll no doubt be leaving us.”

  “Leaving?” Simone felt her chest tighten. She was just becoming comfortable with her surroundings, and now Rachel talked of her leaving.

  “Most of the girls move on. After all, Topeka is a training house. Still, I do manage to keep a few regulars. Maybe you’ll want to be one of them.”

  “I’d very much like to stay,” Simone replied. “I’ve heard some of the girls talking about other places, but honestly I’d rather not go.�
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  “Some want to be nearer to their family. Isn’t there someone you’d like to live closer to? Perhaps a grandmother or aunt?”

  Simone panicked. She hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn. “There’s no one. I have no family,” she answered quietly.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll understand,” Rachel began, “but I wondered if you might tell me how your parents died?”

  Simone felt the joy of the day leave her in the wake of this prying question. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “I know how it is to lose someone you love,” Rachel stated softly.

  Simone choked on her iced lemonade. Loved? Well, in truth, she had loved her mother and brother. But her father was another matter entirely. She had never loved him and had never known love from him.

  Rachel patted her back. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I just want you to know that I understand. I lost my father shortly before coming to Topeka. He was killed in a rail yard accident. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing him. We were very close.”

  “You were?” Simone asked as though it was an uncommon thing.

  Rachel smiled and her eyes took on a faraway look. “Yes. I was an only daughter and he doted upon me as most fathers might. He spoiled me terribly—always buying me little gifts and letting me do things my mother would have never allowed.”

  Simone felt sick inside. The lemonade seemed to sour in her stomach and spoil the contents of her lovely lunch. She put her hand to her abdomen and tried hard not to appear in the least bit upset.

  137 “Are you all right, Simone?”

  “It’s just this heat.”

  Rachel pulled out her pocket watch. “We should be making our way back. No sense getting sunstroke. I’ve already spent longer away than I should have. Come on. If you need to, you can lean on me.”

  Simone shook her head. “I’m not that bad off.” She picked up her brown paper package and smiled. “Thank you for a lovely day and thank you, too, for the lace. I would never have considered spending the money … not that I had it to spend.”

  Rachel laughed. “A girl needs to look pretty for special occasions. Hopefully you and Una will be able to whip that dress into shape in time for the celebration. And who knows, Mr. O’Donnell might even stick around to attend the festivities with us.” She grinned knowingly.

  Simone nodded and waited until Rachel turned to lead the way back to the Harvey House before letting out her breath. How many more times could she manage to avoid talking about her parents and what had happened? But as she had done since first leaving her cabin, Simone pushed her fears aside and barricaded them away where they couldn’t hurt her. She liked the peace and contentment she experienced here, and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her position with Fred Harvey’s company.

  Later that night, Simone lay in bed rethinking the events of the day. She felt a comfort that she could never remember having known before. Was this what it was like to be happy? She thought of her life and of the horrors that had once haunted and confronted her on a daily basis. In the security that surrounded her at the Harvey House, the memories were slowly fading from her mind, and even the ordeal of Garvey Davis didn’t seem quite so intimidating. She felt responsible for what must surely have been his death, but she also knew it was selfdefense. At least, that was how she was choosing to view the deed. Davis would have forced himself upon her, and while her father considered them married, Simone could not accept that this man would take her to be a wife when she neither loved him nor had the benefit of a proper ceremony.

  She glanced across the room to where Una sat, faithfully writing to her mother. What joy it must be to have that kind of love between mother and child, Simone thought. Her gaze passed to the bedstand and the old Bible that had once belonged to Winifred Dumas. For reasons beyond her understanding she had placed it there upon arriving in Topeka, and there it had sat until this moment.

  “I will always love you, Simone,” she could nearly hear her mother saying. “I will come back for you. You will see.” How badly she had wanted to believe that promise.

  But her mother hadn’t come back. She would never come back. With a sigh Simone closed her eyes and allowed sleep to drift over her. Life seemed such a contradictory existence. Some people had all the good things—love, family, friendship—while others knew only sorrow and misery. She’d already spent seventeen years in the latter group, and now Simone longed to embrace the other side … the happier group. The group where children were cared for in love and tenderness, where people did not hurt each other and set out to destroy all hope.

  SIXTEEN

  JULY SECOND DAWNED muggy and warm with the promise of even higher temperatures to come that afternoon. Simone joined her Harvey sisters on the floor of the dining room, serving first one customer and then another. The black uniform was unbearably warm, and the high-necked apron felt as though it were tightening around her neck. Longing for a breeze to offer the slightest bit of ease, Simone lingered for several moments by the open window. But it was to no avail. The air hung heavy and still. She thought of the crisp mountain air and the home she’d grown up in. She’d always taken for granted that everyone lived in a climate such as hers. But even the mountains with their cool, refreshing breezes couldn’t make Simone wish to go back to what had once been.

  Moving around her station, Simone tried to forget how warm it was. “Do you need anything else?” she sweetly asked a young mother, burying her thoughts of Wyoming.

  The woman shook her head, glancing from the plate of one child and then another. “No, I believe we’re just fine. My husband would probably enjoy more coffee,” she added. “He just stepped outside for a moment.”

  Simone nodded. “Of course. I’ll have it right here.” She turned to the four men who sat opposite the woman. “And what about you gentlemen? Will there be anything else?”

  “Are you by any chance on the menu?” one scrawny-looking man asked. He reminded Simone of a man she’d known in Uniontown, and the thought made her stiffen.

  “I assure you that I’m not,” she stated coolly. She felt uneasiness mingle with the beginnings of a headache.

  “I told you that you weren’t her type, Gabe,” another man joined in. “She’s my type.” The men laughed as though sharing a great joke.

  When no one suggested needing anything else, Simone left them to continue with their comments and went to retrieve the coffeepot. Her head began to pound in earnest, and she didn’t know if it was the heat or her taut nerves that caused the pain. She loved working at the Harvey House, except when rowdy characters, such as the two customers she’d just dealt with, showed up. Usually the house manager kept those types under control, but by the time Simone reported it, the train would be ready to depart and the unruly men would be on board.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Una asked her softly. “You look kind of flushed.”

  Simone picked up the pot of coffee. “I’m fine. Just dealt with a couple of lewd characters.”

  “Ja, there surely seems to be a lot of them.”

  Simone nodded and returned to the table with a fixed purpose. She wouldn’t let the men and their comments destroy her peace of mind. She just couldn’t allow that. Men had been pushing her around and dominating her life for as long as she could remember. Perhaps it was the reason she refused to deal with them, along with God. God had always been spoken of as her heavenly Father. Well, she didn’t think much about the word father in either its earthly or heavenly form. Maybe this carried over into her feelings toward men in general. Men were demanding. They always expected something of her, and it was always something directed at bettering their own lives or pleasuring themselves. Only Jeffery seemed to show any signs of being different.

  Refilling the coffee cups of those who asked for more, Simone felt extremely relieved when the fifteen-minute warning was issued. And then, before she could focus on any further comments, the room emptied and the train pulled out of the d
epot, taking her crude customers with it.

  After that, some of the townsfolk came for breakfast, as well as a good number of railroad men. Simone cleared her tables quickly and efficiently, replacing dirty linen tablecloths with freshly cleaned and pressed ones. This was the rule for customers in the dining room, whether they were railroad workers or bank presidents like Cyrus K. Holliday, the founding father of the Santa Fe. Simone liked the idea of everyone receiving equal treatment. Even the lowliest person could find themselves respected and honored in Fred Harvey’s eating establishments. The day wore on, and just as it had been foreseen by more than one person, the temperatures rose to an unbearable high. At first, Simone thought she might faint from the heat. She found herself polishing silver by an open window and, finding little relief, thought she might collapse. Then, just when she thought she could stand no more, Henri called for her to come to the kitchen.

  If the dining room had been hot, then the kitchen was a veritable inferno. Simone picked up a china plate and actually used it to fan herself. Not that it helped.

  “The orders were just brought to me for the luncheon group,” Henri told her. “We are going to need another table set up in the dining room. There are more people than we can fit.”

  Simone massaged her aching temples with one hand while fanning herself with the other. “Why so many?”

  Henri shrugged. “Ah, who can say? Perhaps your American holiday has them hurrying home to celebrate?”

  Simone smiled. “Perhaps just as many will travel by rail on Bastille Day, no?”

  Henri laughed and motioned her to the door. “Hurry now. It won’t be long before the whistle will sound.”

  Simone nodded and put down the plate to go in search of Rachel.

  She found her easily enough, conversing with the head waitress about a mismanaged station.

  “Miss Taylor,” Simone began, “Monsieur Flaubert tells me that the telegraph has indicated additional passengers who will be taking their meal in the dining room. He suggests we make room for an extra table or two.”