He wondered where his sisters were now and what they were doing. After their parents died, Chloe had written to a mail order bride service and married a rancher. Since she seemed happy, his younger sister, Dorcus, decided to give it a try. Being the last one to leave the nest, she had to take their little sister, Gelina with her. Gelina had only been six at the time. Last Brody heard, Dorcus had married a butcher in Cheyenne, Wyoming, and become a mother to her new husband's brood of four children from his previous marriage.
If anyone could handle five children, Dorcus could. Two years had passed since he'd heard anything about her. He wouldn't be surprised to learn she had at least one child of her own by now. One of these days, he'd saddle up old Faro and go look his sisters up.
“Brody?” Marzda said.
“Yes?”
“You wasn't here just now in your head. Where were you?”
“Why, I was thinking about my sisters. Did you know I had three sisters?”
“No. How old are they and where do they live?”
“Let's see. Chloe must be forty now. She's in Texas with her husband. Then there's Dorcus. She's younger than me, about thirty-five, I reckon. She and my youngest sister, Gelina, live in Wyoming.”
“Do you go see them?” Marzda's swinging feet hinted of her growing bordom.
“I haven't in a long time, but I'm thinking I should someday soon.”
“I wish I had a brother or sister. I'm gonna go see if that stray cat is still hanging around outside. Maybe she'll let me pet her.”
“Keep out of trouble. If you see any men coming towards you, get back in the hotel. You hear me?”
“Yes. Don't worry. I ain't… I'm not going to let any men get close to me ever again.”
Brody grinned. It was safer and more comfortable than laughing. He watched her head for the back door and hoped she didn't bring the cat inside. It might have fleas or ticks and they didn't need insects in the hotel.
Damn. Where was Ophelia?
Hester passed Ophelia the plate of sugar cookies. “I think Brody is a very handsome man for his age, don't you, dear?”
Ophelia's head snapped up and she frowned. Why on earth would the woman ask a question like that? “Yes. I'm sure many woman would find him attractive, and he's still young.”
“Cookie!” Teddy, Hester's eighteen-month-old son by her first husband, pulled himself up to the table and reached out a plump little hand.
“Oh, no, you don't.” Hester moved the plate out of the way. “You've had enough sugar. One more cookie and you'll never take your nap. Go play with your blocks.”
For a moment, his face squelched up and Ophelia thought for sure he was going to bawl. Hester picked up one of his blocks and said, “Look, this one has a puppy on it.”
“Puppy?” Teddy's face cleared as he took the block from his mother.
“Wouldn't you like to marry and have a sweet child like him?” Hester asked.
Ophelia laughed. “I think I'm too old for that.”
Hester opened her mouth, but Ophelia forestalled her. “Oh, I know, I'm close to the same age now as you were when you gave birth to Teddy. I simply don't see me doing that. The two children I have are enough for me.”
“They might not be for your husband if he has no children. What if he wanted you to give him a son?”
“Hester, I have no intention of marrying again. Once was enough.”
Hester gave a slight snort. “You're passing up a wonderful opportunity. If I were you, I'd snatch Brody up before some other young woman sets eyes on him.”
“I'm sure many young women have set eyes on him. Maybe the man doesn't want to marry. Did you think of that?”
“All men want to marry at some point.”
Ophelia didn't believe that but didn't bother arguing. “When do you expect Owen home from Salt Lake City?”
“Oh, not for two more days, I imagine. He wanted to visit friends while he was there.”
“Well, I'm sorry I missed him.” She set her tea cup on its saucer on the table. “I'd best get back to the hotel and check on things.”
“You're welcome to discuss your plans for the Gentlemen Only Salon with me, you know.”
Should she? Hester was a woman, after all. Maybe she would be a better source for advice on the matter. “I wanted to see what he thought about turning it into a home for abused women.”
Hester's eyes widened. “Why, what a marvelous idea. The world could sure use such homes. Women have so little recourse when they find themselves attached to cruel men or simply out on the streets alone. I've always said, someone should take those women in and help them.”
“Then it wouldn't bother you to have such an establishment here in town?” Ophelia scooted forward in her seat, thrilled with Hester's reaction. “Some of the women who might come seeking help may have been selling themselves to survive.”
“Ophelia, the west is full of women who'd once been in that situation but found their way out of it. I personally know of two women who worked in brothels before marrying and starting a family. People here are freer minded than in the East, thank goodness. They're realists and know how difficult life is.”
“I think you're right about that. One thing on my mind is how to support such a household. I was hoping Owen might have some suggestions.”
“Hm. That is something to consider. The house needs to be self-sustaining. Perhaps the women could make things to sell, jams, jellies, things that can be sent to stores outside Wildcat Ridge. Our population here couldn't buy enough to provide an adequate income.”
“That might work, if they could produce in quantity and find good markets for their products. You've given me something to think about, Hester.” Ophelia finished the cookie she'd been nibbling while ideas raced through her mind. “I'm going to go home now and write some notes. Thank you for the tea and cookies. And for the suggestions. You have been very helpful.”
“No need to be in a hurry. We could discuss this more.”
“And we will, but I feel I should get back now and make sure everything is all right at the hotel.”
“Are you worried about how Brody is healing up?”
“Not really. He seems to be mending well. I worry more about Marzda.” She stood, and Hester followed her to the door.
“Don't forget, I'll want you and Brody to come to supper after Owen gets home.”
Heaven forbid. Ophelia hadn't been in Hester Vaile's home more than two minutes before she realized the woman had decided to matchmake her and Brody, something Ophelia did not need.
As she walked home, she thought about what she'd say to Brody. What if he asked her outright if she'd remembered him? She wouldn't want to lie. She'd have to hope he hadn't noticed the change in her and said nothing about it. Lord knew, her life was complicated enough without love entering the picture.
Love. Now, why did that word invade her head? Was her mind trying to force her to face her feelings?
Chapter Seven
On her way home, Ophelia stopped at the Gentlemen Only Salon. Ruby let her in, suspicion and dislike in her green eyes.
“What do you want?”
Ophelia smiled. It had been a long time since she'd had to deal with women like Ruby, but that didn't mean she'd forgotten how. She pushed past Ruby and headed for the kitchen. “I came to talk to all of you, including Henri.”
Ruby hurried to keep pace with her. “Where's Brody?”
“At the hotel, recovering from a beating some men gave him. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?” The kitchen was empty. “Where's Henri?”
“Don't know.” The woman's eyes narrowed as she flopped down on a chair. “You accusing me of setting him up?”
“No, but I know how customers talk when they're liquored up and feeling good. You happen to hear anything about any plans to teach Brody a lesson?”
Ruby pulled cigarette makings from her bodice and proceeded to roll a cigarette, avoiding looking at Ophelia. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Wha
t you gonna do about it?”
“Nothing, but you might want to apologize to Brody next time you see him for not giving a warning.”
“I never heard nothing.”
Ophelia stared at her. When Ruby didn't so much as blink, she decided the woman must be telling the truth. Going to a door marked Private she rapped her knuckles on the wood.
Henri stuck out his head. “Mrs. Crane. What honor you bestow on me to visit here. What can I do for you?”
“I need to talk with you. Ruby, would you mind getting the other girls?”
Though Ruby did not look pleased, she went.
Ophelia turned to Henri who sat at the table. “Henri, how would you feel about moving to the hotel and cooking there?”
“Is the kitchen as fine as this one?” he asked.
“It will be better after some renovation. Well?”
“Oui. Is fine with me. When you need me there?”
“In a couple of weeks. I'll let you know. In the meantime, I'd like you to come over and look at the kitchen, tell me what you want changed.”
“This I am happy to do. Shall I go with you now?”
“No. When you get a chance.”
Chattering softly, Ruby led the three women into the room. They sat down, curious eyes peering at Ophelia.
“You kickin' us out?” The darkness of Pearl's skin showed through the filmy gown she wore. Large copper hoops hung from her earlobes.
“No.” Ophelia stood at the head of the table so she could see them all. “But I am shutting the salon down. When it is reopened, it will be as a home for women.”
“A home for women?” Ruby frowned. “What does that mean? What kinda women?'
“Women like you, wives running from husbands, any woman who has no home, no money and doesn't want to whore to keep eating.”
The girls glanced at one another, appearing stunned.
“Never heard o' such a thing,” Pearl said. “You gonna feed and clothe these women or is this just your way o' opening your own whorehouse?”
“It will not be a bordello. Men may visit the house but any woman who takes one upstairs will be asked to leave. The goal is to provide shelter and aid to women who need it, including children. However, they will need to support themselves and this establishment.”
“An' jest how you 'spect them to do that, if'n not on their backs?” Pearl asked.
“That is something I'm working on. It will depend on the willingness of the women who come to reside here, of course. If they want to escape their past lives badly enough to earn their keep, it will work. All women who come here will be welcomed. Any unwilling to work or who causes trouble will be told to move on.”
“But what kind of work would we have to do?” Emerald combed her brown hair with her fingers, sprinkling dandruff on the table in the process.
“As I said, I haven't figured that out yet. Making and bottling jams and jellies, maybe. Sewing quilts, making scented candles, whatever we can come up with that we can sell to stores, primarily in Salt Lake City, since that is the nearest large city.”
“I'd be willing to try it,” Amethyst said. “I'm sick of what I'm doing now. Wouldn't be doing it at all if I had any other way to survive.”
At fifteen, the blond girl had yet to gain that bored, desperate look so many prostitutes acquired. She would look right at home on a farm or in a schoolroom.
“Do you know how to read and write, Amethyst?” Ophelia asked.
“Yes.”
Ophelia passed her gaze over the other women. “What about the rest of you? Can you read?”
“I can't,” Pearl said. “Ain't no one willing to teach a black girl nothin'.”
“Well, at Safe Haven, women will be offered a chance to learn to read, write, do sums, perhaps how to sew, knit, anything that might help her to earn a living for herself.”
“That's what you're going to call this place?” Ruby asked. “Safe Haven?”
“I believe so.” The name had just popped into Ophelia's head, but she liked it.
“I think it's nice.” Emerald sounded wistful.
Ruby snorted. “So, how much time do we have to decide what we're gonna do?”
“Two weeks, maybe longer. It depends on how much time it takes to figure everything out. I'm telling you now, so you'll be forewarned and can make plans.”
“That's decent of you,” Emerald said.
“Oh, stop kissing her butt,” Ruby snapped at her. “She ain't doin' us any favors.”
Ophelia took a deep breath to avoid speaking in anger. “If moving on to another bordello is what you decide to do, I'll do what I can to help you.”
Ruby laughed. “What d'ya think you could do? You got big connections or something?”
“I know a few people. Don't underestimate me, Ruby.” She turned back to the other girls. “Now, I need to return to the hotel. If you have any questions, you can find me there.”
Pearl stood up. “I don't need no time to make up my mind. Don't need to ask no questions either. If all I gotta do to keep living here is make jam or sew quilts, I ain't going nowhere.”
“Glad to hear it, Pearl.” Ophelia smiled, genuinely pleased. Not only was the girl beautiful, she had a brain. All she needed was an education and opportunity.
“There you are.” Brody rose lazily from the bench in front of the hotel where he'd been sitting. “I had begun to think you'd abandoned us.”
Ophelia came to a dead halt, cursing silently. She wasn't ready to face him yet. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I haven't seen you all day.”
“Were you looking for me?” Had he realized she'd remembered him and been lying in wait to force her to face up to it?
“Yes, I was. I thought you'd come to see how I was doing after my battering. Want to check my wound?”
“No, I'm sure it's doing fine after the care Doctor Spense and Mrs. Dobbs have given you.” She edged toward the door.
Brody captured her hand and she froze in place. “I still have no energy. Come sit with me.”
He sat and drew her down beside him.
“I have things to do,” she protested.
“You always have things to do. I need to talk to you, Ophelia.”
She leaped to her feet. “I can't now.”
The door snapped shut behind her as she fled into the hotel, evading his grasp. She made it halfway up the stairs before hearing the door open.
“When will you talk with me?” Brody called up to her.
She closed her eyes in frustration, her gloved hand clinging to the balustrade. What should she do? She couldn't avoid him forever. They lived in the same building. Short of packing her bags and leaving Wildcat Ridge, she saw no way to avoid the confrontation awaiting her. Breathing deeply, she answered over her shoulder. “Tonight, after supper.”
“All right. I can wait until then.”
That evening, she invited Mrs. Dobbs to have supper with her. Brody came along, seeming to assume he'd be welcome. Ophelia didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. The conversation at the Crystal Café was sporadic and stilted. She sighed, knowing it was her fault. She couldn't settle down, her nerves as taut as wet rawhide left in the sun. They talked mainly about the changes she was making to the hotel.
“I saw the new sign,” Mrs. Dobbs said. “Andy hung it this morning. I really like it.”
“I do too,” Brody said. “Very clever to have him make it in the shape of a bed. What sort of sign will you have for your women's shelter? Have you chosen a name for it?”
“Safe Haven.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Dobbs said. “That's perfect. Coming up with a sign for that will be more challenging. I suppose a bed might be appropriate for it too, but you'll want something different from the hotel.”
“I haven't really decided on a design yet,” Ophelia said, toying with the roast beef on her plate. She'd eaten only a few bites. Brody's plate was clean.
“What about a
lock and key?” he asked.
“That's not a bad idea,” Mrs. Dobbs said. “I tried to think of something, but my mind is blank. My, I'm full. I guess it's time to get back to the hotel.”
Garnet came and took their plates away. Glumly, Ophelia sat there, putting off the time to leave.
“Come on, Ophelia.” Brody stood and held out his hand to help her up.
She accepted it and, once standing, regretted it immediately. Brody didn't move back, and she found herself almost in his arms.
“Time to face the music,” he whispered.
She jerked away. “I've no idea that you mean by that.”
“It's a phrase used by soldiers. Disgraced officers being 'drummed out' of the army had to 'face the music'.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
He gave her an annoyingly smug smile. “Shall we leave?”
Having nothing to say to that, she marched out the door. She didn't bother to pay for her meal, having arranged with the owner to run a tab to be paid at the end of the month.
Mrs. Dobbs, appearing somewhat confused, stood aside as Ophelia stormed out the door. The return walk was quiet. Even the people they passed on the boardwalk fell silent as if sensing trouble. As soon as she entered the hotel, Ophelia raced up the stairs to her room. Brody followed. When she went to close her door, he inserted his foot, then his whole body.
“What do you want, Brody?”
He glowered at her. “I want to know if you've remembered me yet.”
Her grip on the knob slipped and she had to grab for the edge of the door to stay standing. Brody stood his ground. No more than a few inches separated their faces.
Ophelia's heart somersaulted. The thud of the blood in her veins sounded loud in her ears. For a long moment, she and Brody remained as if frozen and all manner of thoughts raced through her mind.
Gold. Within the ordinary brown of his eyes danced flecks of gold. Had she ever noticed that before? How could she have ever seen them and forgotten? His lips parted, and she caught a glimpse of the rosy tip of his tongue. His breath smelled of coffee and the lemon meringue pie he'd had for dessert, tart and sweet at the same time.
Ophelia Page 7
