“Thanks. I’ll head back first thing in the morning. I need to wire a friend. I can take the girls with me if you’re really going to talk to Rebecca.”
“I am, so taking them with you would be appreciated.”
“I don’t mind in the least.” She then turned to glance at him. “See, we can be civil.”
He met her eyes in the moonlit dark. “I suppose we can.”
Jake could sense the currents building between them, and fought to keep them from muddling his mind. “I put clean sheets on the bed when I changed my wet clothes. You can turn in anytime you like.”
“Thanks,” she said sincerely.
“Good night, Miss Winters.”
“It’s no sin to call me by my given name, you know.”
Jake felt the eddying currents rise higher.
She told him, “Repeat after me—Loreli.”
He smiled faintly, then said quietly, “Loreli.”
Saying her name for the first time affected them both, but neither made mention of it.
For a moment there was silence, then he said, “Now, your turn, say, Jake.”
Loreli responded quietly, “Jake.”
Jake’s heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to his loins. Pushing himself to remain unmoved, he replied, “Good night.”
He stepped off the porch and took a few steps toward the barn, only to have her call out. “Jake?”
He turned back. Telling himself that her standing in the moonlight was not the most beautiful thing he’d seen in all the world, he asked, “Yes?”
“You’re a great cook.”
He couldn’t stop his chuckle. “Thanks,” he told her. Their eyes were locked and Jake stood there for a moment caught by her beauty. The longer he stood there, the harder it became to move. Finally, shaking himself free of her spell, he resumed his walk to the barn.
Later, Loreli lay on a too-hard bed, looking up into the dark and thinking back on Jake Reed. Hearing him say her name had triggered a wanting inside herself that was as surprising as it was disturbing. She wasn’t even sure she liked him, but something in the way he’d said her name…Loreli might have chalked up her reaction as imaginary were she unfamiliar with the concept of wanting a man. She wasn’t. She’d been celibate by choice for almost two years, and so far it hadn’t been a problem, but being with him tonight seemed to emphasize just how long the two years had been.
As women sometimes do following such an admission, Loreli wondered what kind of lover he’d be. Fast, slow? Was he the kind of man who’d place his lady’s pleasure above his own or one of those who saw women only as vessels for a man’s needs?
She decided it didn’t matter one way or the other, because she and Reed would never be lovers, so she turned over and closed her eyes. She drifted off to sleep hearing him softly calling her name.
Thursday morning, Jake waited until Loreli and the girls had driven to town before mounting up to ride over to Rebecca’s.
After answering his knock upon the door, she stepped onto the porch. Her greeting was cool. “Good morning, Jake.”
He took off his hat. “Rebecca.”
“What brings you out so early? The girls need watching?”
He shook his head. “I came to tell you—well—I’m getting married a week from Saturday.”
She tightened visibly. “What?”
“Rebecca—I’m sorry.”
“So the rumors are true? It’s that Winters woman, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She searched his eyes, then asked bluntly, “Why her and not me?”
He fiddled with his hat for a moment, trying to come up with a lie, then chose to go with the truth. “The girls.”
“The girls,” she stated skeptically. “You let two eight-year-olds decide your future?”
“It’s their future too, Rebecca.”
“I know they don’t like me, but to let them influence you this way? The woman’s a gambler, for heaven’s sake, Jake. What will people say?”
“Whatever they like, as long as they don’t say it to the girls.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Pa said you’d never marry me. I kept telling him he was wrong—that you’d come to your senses—but you’ve lost your mind completely.”
He didn’t argue with her. He wanted her to get it all out, because once she did he didn’t plan to discuss the issue with her ever again. “I apologize for hurting you, but it wouldn’t’ve worked out, you and me.”
“Why, because those girls didn’t like being around someone who believed children should be seen and not heard?”
“Yes, and neither did I,” he added pointedly.
His frankness caught her by surprise. She recovered quickly. “Then you’re right. Your tossing me over for a whore confirms you aren’t the man for me.”
“She isn’t a whore.”
“How do you know? You met her a few days ago, she could be anything.”
He didn’t argue. “Are we done here?”
“Apparently, we are.”
Jake knew she was angry with him, but there was no cure for her distress short of making her his wife, and he wasn’t going to do that. “I’ll be heading back now, Rebecca. Again, I’m sorry for causing you pain.”
“Good-bye, Jake.”
That said, she went back inside the house.
Jake remounted Fox, and rode away.
It was midafternoon before Loreli and the girls returned. They found Jake seated on the porch in one of the old cane chairs. He looked grim, but his countenance brightened when he saw the girls.
“Hello, Uncle,” his nieces called as they ran up onto the porch.
He kissed each girl and asked, “You ladies get all of your business taken care of?”
Loreli followed the girls up the steps and pulled off her soft leather driving gloves. “Sure did. Wired my housekeeper in Philadelphia about having some of my belongings shipped here—”
“Can we go play?” Bebe asked. “Loreli bought us some new jacks.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Jake told her with a smile.
The girls disappeared around the back of the house, leaving Loreli and Jake alone.
“Housekeeper?” Jake asked querulously.
“Yes. Her name’s Olivia Oliver…. How’d your morning go?”
He offered a brief shrug. “It’s done.”
Loreli’s stare caught his eyes when he looked up. “So, you talked to her?”
“Yes.”
Loreli doubted he’d unburden himself to her, but she made the offer anyway. “If you want to talk—”
“I don’t.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
For a moment silence came between them, then he said, “You were right about the girls needing all the things you purchased.”
Loreli was surprised, to say the least. “What brought this on?”
“I looked at it from their point of view.”
“I see.”
“Rebecca accused me of having lost my mind for looking at life through their eyes. Told me I shouldn’t let eight-year-olds decide my future.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That that was why I couldn’t marry her.”
Good answer, Loreli said to herself.
As if talking to himself, he continued, “Thought I’d be able to look past the things about Rebecca I didn’t care for, and that she’d change once she got to know the girls better, but…”
Their eyes met.
“I’m sorry,” Loreli replied genuinely.
“Don’t be because truthfully, I’m not.” Then he added earnestly, “Maybe I have lost my mind in choosing you, and maybe I didn’t plan this out real well, but the girls seem happier than they’ve been since coming to live with me. That means a lot.”
“Yes, it does,” she agreed.
Then as if he’d revealed too much of himself and his feelings, he changed the subject. “Are you staying for supper?”
Loreli suddenly
wanted to know more about the man he kept hidden beneath the marble façade, but doubted the two of them would ever grow close enough for her to do so. “Am I invited?”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess I’m staying.”
After supper, Loreli helped the girls with the dishes, then, while they ran off to finish their game of jacks, she went to find Reed. He was out by the barns repairing a busted slat in one of the animal pens. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the dark hard muscles of his arms. From his handsome mustached face to his chiseled physique he was gloriously made. When she neared, he stopped hammering and looked up.
Gloriously made, she echoed inwardly. Composing herself, she said, “I’m heading back to town. Thanks for supper.”
He straightened to his full height, “You’re welcome.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Can you cook?”
“Not a lick.”
He stared.
Loreli shrugged. “It’s the truth. No sense in lying about it. I can’t cook beans.”
“Why not?”
“No reason to learn, I guess.”
“All women cook.”
“Says who?” she asked, crossing her arms.
He left that alone. “Do you sew?”
“Nope.”
“Can?”
“As in vegetables and fruit?”
“Yes.”
“No,” she answered, as if he’d asked her something ridiculous.
He threw up his hands.
Loreli told him. “Look, Reed, you knew I wasn’t a conventional woman when you met me. Why are you surprised that I’m not all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know, maybe I was hoping you had some domestic in you.”
“Domestics clean houses. I buy them.”
He shook his head and she swore she saw him smile, but there was no trace of it when he asked, “Are you coming back tomorrow?”
“I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. The girls will never complain.”
“What about you?” It was a loaded question and Loreli knew it.
He bent and pulled the broken slat free. “It’s the girls you’re here for, not me.” He paused and straightened, then dusted off his gloved hands on the legs of his denims. “This’ll be a marriage in name only, remember?”
Loreli met his eyes, then asked boldly, “No marriage bed?”
He shook his head, saying, “No.”
“We’re adults, Reed, anything is possible.”
“That isn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it just isn’t.” He picked up the replacement slat and began to hammer the ends into the gap left by the broken one.
Loreli watched him hammer for a few moments. Feeling more frustrated than she wanted to admit, she asked him, “Is this your way of ending the conversation?”
“You’re a smart lady, Miss Winters.”
“I thought you were going to call me Loreli?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” That said he went back to hammering.
Simmering, Loreli gave him a chance to say more, but when he seemed bent on ignoring her presence, she spun on her heels and walked away.
As Jake watched her storm off, the man in him appreciated the righteous sway of her sassy hips. He agreed with her—anything was possible, but their sharing a bed was out of the question; a man as simple and as inexperienced as he had no business in a bedroom with a woman made from sapphires. After being around her for the past few days, he was convinced that her claims of not being a whore were true; however, he was equally convinced that she knew her way around a boudoir a whole lot better than he did, and therein lay the problem.
That night, as Loreli lay in her bed at the boardinghouse, she and her slightly bruised ego decided that something had to be wrong with Reed to dismiss her so out of hand. Didn’t he know she’d been called one of the most beautiful women anywhere, and that she was supposed to be the one doing the turning down, not him? Jake Reed apparently had no idea that men flocked to her side wherever she went, or that on those very rare occasions when she did say yes, there were no commitments or ties? Loreli could never remember being faced with a man who appeared to have no interest in her at all. It wasn’t natural, or at least that’s what her ego maintained. Maybe it was a religious issue, she mused, or maybe something was wrong with him, her ego added again. The last thing she wanted to admit was that there might be something wrong with her, but that’s the impression he left her with. Did he still believe she made her living by working on her back?
Loreli had no answers, and as she drifted off to sleep, the questions continued to swirl.
Before turning in for the night, Jake went to check on the girls. As he watched them sleeping so innocently, he knew that marrying Rebecca would not have been in their best interest. Yes, they would have grown up to be god-fearing and polite, but he wanted them to be that and more. The world was expanding. Times were changing, and women of all races were beginning to do more than cook, clean, and sew. They were now doctors, heading up newspapers, running businesses. They were working in factories and making everything from shoes to clocks, and wanting to be paid the same as men. Domestics clean houses. I buy them! Loreli had said. That’s what he wanted his sister’s girls to have, that kind of confidence and spunk. Of course he didn’t want them to grow up and become poker players; he preferred they marry and have a family, but Loreli was right again—what if they didn’t find husbands or even want one? In that case they would have to make their own way in the world, and he wanted them prepared. He was the only family they had, and once he died and passed on, they’d have only each other to rely on. No, Loreli Winters might make him a laughingstock when word got out that he was marrying her, but he didn’t care. As he’d noted earlier, the twins seemed happier, and that meant more to him than anyone would ever know.
Content with himself and his decisions, he tiptoed out of the room and closed the door softly behind him.
In town the next morning, Loreli went to the bank to see if her money had been successfully transferred. Inside, she saw the smiling Cyrus Buxton, and to her surprise, three of her friends from the wagon train: Gertrude “Trudy” Berry, Fanny Ricks, and Ruby O’Neal.
After sharing hugs with everyone, Fanny, the youngest, said to Loreli, “We thought you were goin’ to California?”
“Nope, still here. Probably be here for another year or so.”
The three friends appeared puzzled. Trudy, who’d left her life as a washerwoman to become a mail-order bride, asked, “A year?”
Loreli nodded. “Are you three in a hurry?”
None were.
“Let me check with Cyrus about something, then let’s find a place where we can sit and talk. I have a doozy of a story to share.”
They all nodded and waited for her to conduct her business.
Loreli’s quick discussion with Cyrus Buxton confirmed that her funds had been wired from her bank on Thursday, and that everything involving the transfer had gone smoothly. Her own flush account brought to mind the dire straits faced by the farmer Peterson. She’d been moved by his plea for the well-being of his five children. She made a note to speak to Reed about the family when she saw him later. Maybe there was a way for her to help Bebe and Dede’s friend Carrie. Loreli thanked Cyrus, then exited with her friends.
Since Fanny lived in town, the four women went to her house. Fanny’s new husband, Ben Leslie, was a Pullman porter. According to Fanny he’d left this morning and would be gone for twenty-one days. The women made themselves comfortable on the house’s side porch, and there, seated in the early morning shade, shared glasses of lemonade and swapped stories of their new lives.
Loreli asked Fanny, “So, how’s life with your new husband?”
The happy look on Fanny’s young face told all. “Just wonderful. I miss him already. Loreli, he’s the first man I’ve ever known besides my father who thinks it all right for a woman to be smart.�
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Loreli was pleased. Fanny, an Oberlin graduate, had signed on to the wagon train because, according to her, the men she knew back home in Illinois thought her too intelligent to marry. Loreli was glad Fanny’s new husband appreciated his young wife’s strong mind. Too bad he had to leave so soon after the wedding.
Trudy and Ruby also related good news. The men they’d married appeared to be fine individuals as well. Loreli knew some of the wagon-train women must be unhappy with the men they’d chosen as husbands, but she was glad that the women she’d grown closest to weren’t counted in that group. Trudy was married to a man named Samuel Taylor. He was a farmer and the local undertaker. He and Trudy lived on a farm west of town. Ruby, a former schoolteacher, was happy with her pick as well. Her husband, a farmer named Vernon Parker, had an empty barn on his property that Ruby planned to turn into a school.
A bit confused by Ruby’s plans, Loreli asked, “Isn’t there a school here already?”
“There is,” the statuesque Ruby replied, “but according to the girls—oh, did I tell you my Vernon has two daughters, twelve and eleven?”
“No,” Loreli replied, smiling with surprised delight. “Do you three get along?”
“No cat fights yet. They’re studying me and I’m studying them.”
Everyone smiled.
Ruby continued. “I guess his first wife left him and the girls to go live somewhere else. Vernon said she didn’t like the life here. Too slow. Anyway, the girls say the teacher, Mr. Hazel, doesn’t believe in teaching females—”
“What!” the women shouted in unison.
“That’s the most ignorant nonsense I’ve heard in some time,” short dark-skinned Trudy declared.
The others nodded with vigorous agreement.
Ruby said, “I agree, so I’m going to teach my girls myself. If there are any other girls who wish to attend my classes, they’re welcome. I’m going to call it the Ruby Parker School of Progressive Education for Women.”
“Good for you,” said Fanny. “Count me in if you need teaching help, Ruby. My certificate from Oberlin allows me to teach, and I’m real good with little girls.”
A Chance at Love Page 10