Promise of the Valley

by Jane Peart

  Brook was an ebullient host, and the dinner party was his version of a Roman banquet. The food was superb; merriment and laughter were as plentiful as the champagne that flowed like proverbial water as frequent toasts were offered and drunk.

  The round table at which they were seated provided accessibility to everyone and much cross talk was possible. As the evening progressed Louis, flushed and excited with the prospect of moving at last into his long-planned house, with a successful future almost assured, became more and more exhilarated.

  In contrast, Addie became more and more remote. Louis, who had been verbally possessive at the beginning of the meal, became engaged in earnest discussion about the best kind of grape vines and methods of production with a local vintner on his left.

  Seated at a some distance from Rex Lyon, Addie was careful to avoid looking directly at him. However, if she inadvertently glanced his way, he seemed to be gazing at her. It was as if they both were aware of something that neither of them understood.

  After dessert—brandied peaches in meringue shells—the plates were carried away and coffee was brought in. Brook rose to his feet again and, tapping his fork on the crystal goblet for quiet, he made a closing speech.

  By this time it was past midnight. After Brook's words, everyone began rising from their places, moving toward the lobby, and preparing to leave. Louis was finishing up a conversation with the man beside him when Freda touched Addie's arm.

  "We didn't have a chance to get to know each other better, as Brook hoped we would, did we? Too much going on!" She gestured to the crowd. "But I would like very much for us to become friends. Would you be able to come visit some afternoon? I could send a buggy for you."

  "How kind of you. Yes, I would enjoy that. I am free on Thursdays."

  "Good, I'll send a note to confirm. Good night." Freda pressed Addie's hand and went to join Rex Lyon who stood at the door as if waiting for her.

  Again Addie wondered about them. Rex had only nodded, acknowledging their previous introduction, but made no move toward her. Of course, Louis had been at her side all evening. Still, Addie felt oddly disappointed that he had not even come to speak to her.

  Addie had no time to dwell on her feelings because Louis leaned toward her, saying, "Estelle is tired and wants to leave, so I can't take you back to the cottage. I'll send a note. I want to bring you out to the house, want you to be our first guest. I want to have some time with you away from all these greedy-for-gossip eyes. I feel we are like goldfish in a bowl here—," he made a wry face, "—especially with your bodyguard nearby."

  He took her hand, held it. He might have continued holding it while looking meaningfully into her eyes if Estelle had not tapped him on the shoulder.

  "Do let us go, Louis." Her voice was heavily laced with fatigue—or boredom? "It is very late, and I'm afraid I'm starting a migraine." Then added in a pained voice, "I'm sure Miss Pride will excuse you."

  Chilled by Miss Montand's steely stare, Addie at once said, "Of course."

  As the Montands left, Addie looked around just in time to see Rex Lyon and Freda go out the door. For some reason she felt ridiculously abandoned.

  Chapter 8

  True to her word Freda sent a note to Addie the day after the party to invite her to spend the day at the Wegner Ranch the following Thursday. Delighted, Addie immediately wrote back accepting the invitation.

  A few days later, one evening just before her card game, Mrs. Amberly sent Addie back to the cottage for a pillow for her back. As Addie re-entered the lobby with the pillow, Brook came out of his office near the reception desk and motioned her over in a curiously secretive manner.

  "What is it?" she asked curiously.

  He looked mysteriously excited.

  "My dear Miss Pride, or Addie, as you've now permitted me to address you." He spoke in a low tone of voice, and Addie felt instinctively he was up to something. "I hope I am not presuming on our friendship when I say I have always ascertained you to be a young woman of considerable courage, foresight, maybe even a little recklessness—or perhaps that is the wrong word. Certainly adventurous. Else why would you have vouchsafed to cross the country via the newly constructed railroad—alone—to accept, sight unseen, a position with an unknown employer and come to this valley hidden in the hills, about which you knew little or nothing?"

  "Just what are you leading up to, Brook?" Addie asked warily, recognizing his persuasive methods in full force.

  He put one hand to his heart, affected an innocent expression. "Up to something? Me? You think I'm about to make a preposterous proposal?"

  "Perhaps," Addie said doubtfully.

  Brook's eyes twinkled. "What makes you think so?"

  "The grand inventory you're making of all my supposed virtues, which, I must say, you are grossly exaggerating."

  "All right, I'll tell you straight out. I'm thinking of initiating a new treatment here, one that will not only be beneficial to my guests' health but may have amazing rejuvenating effects."

  "Rejuvenating? Don't tell me you've discovered the Fountain of Youth right here in Calistoga?" Addie demanded in mock amazement.

  "Well, perhaps not precisely. However, our mineral water is widely accepted as having positive health potential and restorative qualities. My idea will combine those benefits with an ancient Indian cleansing and purification ritual."

  Addie put her head to one side and speared Brook with a suspicious look. "And what has this got to do with me? And my so-called adventurous spirit?"

  Brook hesitated a split second, then said in a rush, "I want you to be the first to benefit from it."

  Addie gasped, "You want me to be your guinea pig?"

  "That's hardly the word for it."

  "Well, I don't know what else you'd call it."

  "I'm offering you a chance to be the first woman—the first non-Indian woman—to experience this treatment, to reap its myriad benefits."

  "You're serious, aren't you?"

  "Quite." He paused, watching for her reaction, then continued. "I want you to tell me honestly what you think of it, whether you feel other women coming here would enjoy it, be happy about the results. If you agree, then I believe I'll have something to offer here at Silver Springs Resort that not even the most famous expensive resorts of Europe can offer people in search of health, renewed vigor, and beauty." He paused again. "Will you help me by taking the treatment?"

  "What does it involve?"

  "A mud bath. Now don't look shocked—," he cautioned her. "The baths are a mixture of the purest organic soil and volcanic ash and mineral springs water. The Indians of this valley came here for hundreds of years to bathe in the natural hot springs. The healing qualities are world renowned." He held up both hands as if to ward off any protest on Addie's part. "It will be absolutely private. The native Indian woman I've consulted will be there to assist you. She knows every phase of the routine. Addie, I promise you it will in no way cause you any embarrassment or discomfort. In fact, you'll feel absolutely marvelous."

  Addie looked at Brook suspiciously.

  "Trust me, Addie, I wouldn't suggest this if I weren't sure you'd enjoy and benefit from it."

  "When will this great experiment take place?"

  "Since it will be—at least, for the present—our secret, I suggest we plan it for the same time as Mrs. Amberly is having her treatment at the bathhouse. That will eliminate any questions on her part and any explanations on yours. You'll not be under any pressure and be able to relax and enjoy it."

  "I don't know, Brook—"

  "Believe me, Addie, you will love the results."

  "I'll think about it—"

  "What's to think about? I promise you a unique, pleasurable experience. Just say you will."

  "Oh, Brook, can't it wait? I'm in a hurry, Mrs. Amberly's waiting for her pillow, and—"

  "Please, Addie, I assure you, you will thank me for giving you the opportunity—"

  "Oh, for pity's sake, Brook!" Exasperated, Addi
e laughed. "All right! I give in!"

  "Great! Thank you. Tomorrow I'll come for you at the cottage and escort you myself," Brook said triumphantly and went out the front door, whistling.

  Suddenly Addie had the feeling of being observed. Turning, she saw that Mrs. Amberly was standing in the archway of the card room. How long had she been there watching? Watching her with Brook. As usual, Brook had used wild gestures to make his point, talking with his hands as he tried to persuade her. She had probably been equally emphatic in arguing against it. How must the scene have looked? What kind of interpretation might Mrs. Amberly have put on their conversation? Addie could only guess.

  "What kept you so long?" Mrs. Amberly scowled.

  "I'm sorry," was Addie's only reply. Why should she explain when clearly Mrs. Amberly had seen that Brook had delayed her.

  Mrs. Amberly grabbed the pillow and waddled ahead of Addie back to her waiting card partners without so much as a thank you.

  Addie thought she had become used to her employer's surliness. Nonetheless, she still resented it. She hated the feeling of having to account for every action. She knew she had to accept she was Mrs. Amberly's employee and all that went with it. But she didn't have to like it.

  Addie went into the card room and seated herself not far from the card players. She took out the needlepoint she brought along to pass the time on these interminable evenings. She felt upset. Not because she had agreed to participate in Brook's experiment—although that might turn out to be a foolish mistake. It was her own ignominious situation that she chafed against.

  Paid companions were not unlike the governesses Addie had observed growing up. Many Southern families sent their sons up north to be educated, but for their daughters they hired Northern governesses. Even as a young girl Addie was sensitive to their ambiguous position in the wealthy households in which they were employed. They were neither fish nor fowl. They took their meals with the family but were not treated as either relatives or guests. Mostly they were ignored. Even their influence in the schoolroom, where they should have received respect, was minimal. Southern parents, for the most part, considered their daughters' education of minor importance. A girl's future depended on making a good marriage, becoming the bride of someone in their class. That was her priority. Her attendance at a party or ball at a neighboring plantation always took precedence, even when it meant weeks of no lessons. This often left the poor young teacher wandering like a lost soul by herself in a deserted schoolroom or empty house. Governesses were never invited to accompany their charges to any of the parties or other events, nor were they ever included in the ones given at the home where they were employed. Addie had often looked at these women with pity, never dreaming that one day she would be in a similar position.

  Recalling those days, Addie realized now these young women were probably of good family, perhaps even from backgrounds as privileged as her own, but fallen on hard times so that they were forced to earn their living. Certainly these Northern women were better educated than most of their Southern sisters. They probably had a wealth of ideas, interests, and intelligence to contribute to social occasions. Yet they were pushed into the background for years—the best years of their lives.

  How sad to be within sight and sound of pretty clothes, parties, music, dancing, and good times and not be allowed to enjoy them. They probably had been the same age as Addie was now, or perhaps even younger! After all, once you passed twenty-five you were on the brink of spinsterhood, and, if unmarried, a few years later you would be considered completely without hope!

  Worse even than being relegated to the sidelines of social life would be—especially for someone as independent and proud as Addie—being obliged to be conciliatory, never expressing an opinion. Governesses must have lived under the constant fear of offending and being dismissed. That would have been a real threat if, like Addie, they might have had elderly parents or relatives dependent on part of their small salaries.

  That was her own problem, the Sword of Damocles hanging over her own head. If she lost her job with Mrs. Amberly, it would mean the difference between the few comforts the money sent Aunt Susan and Uncle Myles provided or deprivation.

  What a lot she was learning, understanding, now, if that was any consolation! Didn't Shakespeare write "sweet are the uses of adversity"? Perhaps this year would be richer for its very poverty than she could have predicted.

  The next morning after Mrs. Amberly had gone for her regular treatment, grumbling as usual to one of the bathhouse attendants, Addie waited anxiously for Brook. He arrived almost immediately as though he had waited for the coast to be clear. He was in a jovial mood as he walked with her to the far end of the grounds where the last guest cottage was located, and there he left her.

  "All right, Addie, everything's all set." He took her hand and raised it ceremoniously to his lips and smiled. "Enjoy!"

  With some trepidation Addie went up to the cottage door and knocked. Almost immediately it was opened by a short bronze-skinned woman with straight dark hair drawn from a center part into a braid down her back.

  "Good morning, Miss Pride. My name is Oona," she said in a pleasant, low voice. She smiled as she motioned Addie inside. The interior of the cottage was nearly empty. It was one of the most recently built ones, and it was not furnished like the others.

  "If you will disrobe, miss," the woman suggested gently.

  "Disrobe?" echoed Addie thinking perhaps she had better not. "Why?"

  "For the treatment. For the mud bath." The woman parted plain white canvas curtains and revealed a tublike wooden structure filled with a dark gray mixture from which a vapor was rising causing herb-scented steam to fill the small room.

  Addie swallowed. "I'm to get in that?"

  The woman smiled, her teeth very white against her swarthy skin. "Oh, yes, miss. It's very nice," she assured her. "May I help you undress?"

  Addie had half a notion to bolt out the door but then she remembered Brook's reassurances together with the fact that she was rather pleased he considered her progressive enough to try something as new and startling as this.

  Shyly Addie let the woman unbutton her blouse and assist her out of her skirt and petticoats, chemise and pantaloons. She then wrapped Addie's hair in a soft cotton towel and showed her how to place herself into the tub. First to sit on the wooden ledge, then holding onto handles on either side, to swing her legs over. Slowly Addie felt herself sink into the warm, gritty, moist "mud," which was, the woman told her, a mixture of mineral water, volcanic ash, and various natural herbs. The woman then packed it around and over her body from her neck to her toes. To Addie's absolute astonishment it felt wonderful.

  There was a curved pillow cradling her neck and head, and Oona placed a folded cool cloth over her forehead and eyes, saying soothingly, "Now, just relax."

  At first the weight of the warm mud seemed to press too heavily on her bare body. Gradually, however, Addie did lose all track of time and seemed to drift and float. She could almost feel all the knots of tension that had become a constant in her life—since becoming Mrs. Amberly's flunky—seep away in a kind of glorious euphoria.

  "Time now to get out," Oona said just as Addie felt she was almost going to sleep.

  Getting out was a bit harder than getting in had been, but with Oona's help Addie managed. The mud still clung to her body, and Oona led her over to a wooden stall where, with a hose, she freed her from most of it.

  "Now, miss, you bathe." She opened a door into a rather Spartan bathroom and assisted her into a deep white porcelain tub filled with the bubbling mineral salts water. With a large sponge Oona scrubbed her back then handed the sponge to Addie for her to do the rest of the cleansing herself. This part of the treatment felt great too, stimulating and energizing. Maybe Brook actually had happened on an idea that would become a unique part of anyone's visit to the resort.

  Oona soon reappeared and held out a huge towel for Addie to wrap herself in as she stepped out of the tub. "You lik
e?" Oona asked hopefully.

  "Very much."

  "Now time to rest." Oona led her into another room where there was a small cot. She helped Addie stretch out, then she placed a light blanket over her, tucking it in on all sides, as one might tuck in an infant. Again a cool damp cloth, wrung out in some sweet scented water, was placed across Addie's eyes and forehead. Then Oona left quietly, leaving Addie to sleep dreamlessly.

  Addie wasn't sure how long she had been there when she felt Oona's gentle touch awakening her.

  "Sorry, miss, but Mr. Stanton told me to have you back to your cottage by noon."

  "Oh, my goodness! I can't believe I spent the whole morning like this!" Addie leaned up on both elbows, feeling a little dazed as Oona helped her into a sitting position.

  "I help you dress," offered Oona, and Addie saw she had brought her clothes into the room.

  Walking back across the grounds toward the cottage she was surprised to see a dark green one-horse carriage in front of her cottage. As she approached, Louis Montand got out and started toward her.

  "I've been looking everywhere for you!" he said with a slight frown of annoyance. "I was afraid I'd missed you. I was just about to try driving up and down the streets of town searching for you."

  "I was....," Addie began, wondering how she could possibly explain where she had been or what she had been doing for the last hour.

  Then she saw Brook striding toward her. As he came up to her his glance was roguish. "My, but don't you look especially radiant this morning, Miss Pride," he greeted her, grinning from ear to ear. "Indeed, I would say positively glowing, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Montand?"