Lariats, Letters, and Lace

by Agnes Alexander

  She gasped and covered her gaping mouth with a hand. Gaze riveted on his, she leaned forward. “You’re Perry’s partner? Oh, how is he? I haven’t heard from him in weeks.”

  Walt lifted a staying hand. “Daisy, please let me finish.” He slipped the folded papers from his inside jacket pocket and set them on the table. “When I arrived two days ago, I fully intended to deliver this letter and be gone. I made a promise, and I intended to see it through.”

  The surprise in her hazel eyes was too much, and he glanced toward the street. To the people going about their day—visiting friends, shopping, conducting business—unaware that he was about to break a young woman’s heart. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the waiter bring Daisy’s leftover lunch.

  His chest ached. He was a scoundrel of the highest order. In that moment, he hated Perry just a little for making him deliver this horrible news. Resting a forearm on the table, he leveled his gaze on her face. “Then I saw you in person, Daisy. The image I’d looked at so many times in Perry’s ferrotype had come to life. I couldn’t deny myself that first dance, and then enjoying another. I have to admit the fake accent threw me at first. But I couldn’t resist seeing you, which led to the second night in the dance hall.” He scoffed and waved a hand at the table then at the room. “And here we are.”

  ****

  From the moment she heard the handsome stranger state his name, Daisy couldn’t catch a full breath. What he said echoed in her head, the words muffled and drawn out making no sense. Perry’s partner in the gold claim sat across the table from her. Here in town, he’d seen her for two nights in a row and never once had he uttered her brother’s name. Neither had he given an indication he was a person she might know—even if only by a few references in a monthly letter from her beloved brother. She refused to look at the packet Walt had removed from his pocket. Nothing good was contained within those folded pages.

  Her stomach roiled and tumbled, and she pressed a hand to quiet it. “I don’t understand the deception.” Were those her barely audible words? She cleared her throat and took a sip of tea. “You came to Rough and Ready looking for me but then didn’t tell me who you were.”

  “Daisy…” His dark brows drawn low, Walt reached a hand across the table.

  Shaking her head, she leaned as far back as she could. The pain in his bleak tone told her what she’d already feared. Something terrible had happened to her sweet Perry. Hot tears filled her eyes.

  “Do you wish me to see you to your room?” He jerked his chin upward.

  Several seconds passed before recognition dawned. He thinks I still live here in the hotel. As he would, since she’d never provided Perry with her new address. Maybe she should have written to Perry when her circumstances changed so drastically. He might have abandoned the claim before the agreed-upon year was over, and they could have figured out a different way to achieve their goals. At least, they would have been together. “I don’t believe that’s wise, Mr. Renfrid.” There, she’d used his full name, letting him know how she wished to proceed with this association.

  He snapped back his hand and shot to his feet. After drawing several coins from his trouser pocket and slipping them onto the tablecloth, he grabbed the letter then stepped beside her chair. “I will escort you to the lobby, Miss Daisy.”

  On shaky legs, she stood and reached for her jacket. Turning, she was surprised to see him holding it suspended in air, but she quickly slipped her arms into the sleeves. Then she gathered the paper-wrapped food and her reticule. As much as she’d enjoyed their dances and the touch of his hand at her waist, she now dreaded the feel of his hand at her lower back. Biting her lower lip kept the tears at bay, but she didn’t know how much longer she could hide her anguish. My dear brother is gone.

  They reached the lobby, and she stepped away from his touch and held out her hand, palm up.

  “Daisy, I dislike being the bearer of the news contained within. But Perry was my good friend and partner, and I owed him his final request.” He gestured toward an upholstered settee under the front window. “We could sit here. I’ll stay nearby as you read it. You may have questions that only I can answer.”

  Because she wasn’t sure how far she could get before her legs gave out, she nodded and sank onto the padded seat.

  He settled himself at her side and laid the folded missive in her lap. “Please know I offer my deepest condolences.”

  “All I ask is for you not to watch me while I read this.” She waited for his nod and then the turn of his head toward the registration counter before she broke the wax seal with the letter “S.” Unable to stop herself, she paused to rub a finger along the wavy line of the initial. Perry’s last letter. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the paper and read:

  “My Dearest Daisy, Well, I guess I’m not as invincible as I always bragged.”

  Her throat tightened, and she let the tears flow.

  Stupid me, thought I could keep on sluicing during a rainstorm. But the sniffles that resulted turned into lung fever. Doc here at the camp says there’s nothing for me but the Lord’s good will. I’m so tired and feeble that Walt has to do all the work himself. I sleep most of each day now, and when I dream, I dream of our snug little book shop. Don’t disappoint me now, little sis, follow your dream. Be smart with your money, and do what I couldn’t help you do. Get away from the gold fields. They are the worst kind of poison on earth. Choose the place that’s right for you and make it even more special by your sweet presence. My love will always be with you. Be brave. Your loving brother, Perry.”

  Blood pounded in her ears, and she felt sick. She sobbed and turned toward the corner containing a green leafy potted plant. A warm hand pressed a handkerchief atop her clenched fist. After mopping at her wet face, she pivoted and glared at Walt, who leaned forward with an elbow on his thigh. Almost as if he blocked her body from view. “How could you not send for me?”

  His head rose, and he looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. “What?”

  Grief overrode her sensibility, and she pounded a fist at his shoulder. “You were too busy digging gold, but I might have nursed him back to health.”

  His jaw dropped, but he recovered and enfolded her in his arms. “Shh, Daisy. Calm down.”

  “No.” She shoved away from his embrace and jumped to her feet. “I won’t. If you were truly Perry’s friend, you would have done more to save him. Walter Renfrid, I never want to see you again.” A lump lodged in her throat, and she couldn’t speak. She dashed down the hallway and out the back door of the hotel. Ignoring the surprised looks tossed her way, she kept running until she reached the rooming house and pounded up three flights of stairs.

  Once inside her room, she threw herself on her bed, curled into a ball, and sobbed until her throat was raw. She cried for the boy with the wild gleam in his eye, always looking for his next adventure. She cried for the young man who no longer would be there to support and protect her. But mostly, she cried for the dear brother who would never figure out what he wanted to do with his grown-up life.

  Madge sat close and rubbed a hand on her back. “Whatever’s happened, Daisy, I’m sorry.”

  Daisy couldn’t talk. She clutched her pillow to her chest and just nodded.

  “I’ll tell Mr. Seppanen you’re not well tonight. But that you’ll be there tomorrow night, right?”

  Barely giving a thought to her job, Daisy could only nod in response. Nothing mattered but getting through the devastation of this horrible, heartbreaking loss.

  Chapter Four

  Hushed whispers from the other side of her privacy blanket woke Daisy. Her roommates, armed with well-meaning intentions, would not let her grieving last much longer.

  Daisy squinted her swollen eyes, allowing in the weak sunlight. Her eyes throbbed, dry from unending bouts of sobbing. The same thoughts that haunted her the previous night still swirled through her mind.

  With no hope of achieving the future she wanted, Daisy wondered what would become of her. The notio
n that her job as a dance hall girl could extend for uncounted years sent her diving under the quilt. Right then, she made a vow to remain no more than two months in Rough and Ready. When the weather grew warm, she’d move away…somewhere.

  She could return to her family’s farm in Pennsylvania and be subjected to her parents’ narrow-minded idea of what choices were right for her life. A shudder shook her body. That choice would be unfair to Perry—for she’d never hear the end of what a big mistake their little escape had been.

  Maybe she should move to Sacramento and get lost in the population of a big city. Surely a single woman would be hired to work in a mercantile there. Maybe even in a book store.

  Her vow to move in two months was as much as she could decide today. Now, if only she could force herself to leave the safe cocoon of her bed. “I’m awake.”

  Footsteps pattered close, and the girls peeked around the edge of the blanket. “Good. We have tea and biscuits and honey waiting.” Madge offered a smile.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. No more crying. Daisy knew having food here in the attic meant her friends had risen at least thirty minutes earlier to dress and get downstairs to prepare even this simple meal. “Give me a couple of minutes to toss on my wrapper and slippers, and I’ll join you.”

  Avoiding the small mirror hanging on the wall, Daisy brushed out the tangles from a restless night of sleep. She braided it and hung it over a shoulder. After taking care of her basic hygiene needs, she pulled on her ragged wrapper and scooted her feet into the knitted blue slippers. Shoulders back and chin held high, she emerged from behind her privacy blanket.

  Harriet and Madge waited at the small table, two bright spots of color in the main room—Harriet wearing a green-striped dress, and Madge dressed in pink calico.

  “Thank you for providing breakfast.”

  “We had to do something.” Harriet gave a curt nod. “Even your cupboard is empty.”

  “Sorry for being nosey.” Madge shrugged as she slathered a pat of butter on her biscuit. “I guess a trip to the mercantile is on this morning’s schedule.”

  A nod proved to be an adequate answer. Daisy managed to eat a biscuit and a half and two cups of watery tea. By forcing herself to engage in their conversation, as insipid as it seemed at first, she discovered she could think of something besides Perry for several minutes at a time.

  An hour later, she dragged herself back to her space to make herself presentable for a shopping trip. The brown skirt and yellow striped blouse was her last clean outfit. When they returned, they’d have to string the rope from the outside overhang and wash a few things. Daisy tucked the last pin into her hair bun as she walked around the blanket. “I’ll need to pick up a bar of Pears Soap.”

  “Ugh, laundry night.” Madge faked fainting back into the chair then cracked open one eye and giggled.

  A smile erupted, and Daisy was grateful for her friend’s comic nature. Especially now. “I’m sure I’m not the only one with clothes that need washing.”

  “You’re right, of course, Daisy.” Harriet straightened from stacking the plates and cups and placing them on a tray. “We’ll all pitch in.”

  As she lifted her coat from the coat stand, Daisy heard the crinkle of paper. That’s strange. She remembered stuffing Perry’s letter under her mattress right before falling asleep. She patted the outside of her coat, felt a bulge, and reached inside the pocket to grasp the folded paper. The plain white packet was labeled with one word—Daisy.

  “What’s that?” Madge walked close, her eyes aglow.

  “I don’t know.” But she had her suspicions about who it was from. Walt. Did she want to hear anything that man had to say?

  “Aren’t you opening it?” Harriet stood several feet away but her gaze was focused on the packet.

  Daisy pried at the triangular flap and the glue separated with a series of tiny cracks. As soon as she saw handwriting, she cupped her hand around the paper. On the underside of the flap was written:

  From the moment I first heard Perry read your letter, I wanted to meet you.

  Her breath hitched. Pulling apart the other glued flaps revealed a red heart edged with white paper lacing. At the pointed end was pinned a tiny bouquet of pink paper roses. Inscribed across the heart in bold strokes was a poem:

  You live in my thoughts and in my heart

  However far I may go;

  This Valentine's Day, I cannot deny

  I care more than you might know.

  Walt

  She frowned. Why is that handwriting so familiar?

  “Your face has gone ashen. Please, Daisy, tell us.” Madge nudged her arm.

  “Not more bad news, I hope.” Harriet came to Daisy’s right.

  “A Valentine from Walt.” A really lovely message that had her flummoxed. Had he guessed how upset she’d be to learn about Perry and merely wanted to soften her pain? Or were the words somehow true that he’d wanted to meet her all these long months?

  “How sweet. I haven’t received one of these since my school days.” Madge stretched out a hand and traced the scalloped lace edge with her finger. “May I?”

  “Sorry, but no.” Instinct made Daisy step back out of reach. “The message is private. At least, for now.” She met her friends’ gazes, silently pleading for understanding. “Give me ten more minutes.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she dashed behind her blanket and moved to the chest. From inside, she pulled out the battered cracker tin where she stored all of Perry’s letters. After untying the ribbon, she spread them on her quilt, keeping them in order by the dates. Comparing only the handwriting of the addresses, she realized Walt had been writing the letters for a little longer than the past two months. A period that coincided with the onset of Perry’s illness.

  Was that why the letters also became more frequent before the Christmas and New Year’s holidays then tapered off? Gradually, the syntax had changed and the vocabulary expanded. She should have read between the lines to see the scribe had changed.

  Impulsively, she hugged the Valentine to her breast, as if she could imprint the words on her heart. Then she extended her arms and again read through the note and the poem …twice. In the words of his poem, she recognized a kindred spirit, a lover of language, another individual who might understand her wishes for owning a book shop. “No.” Her body went rigid as she remembered the way they parted.

  “What?” Madge barged around the blanket and clamped her arms over her chest. “You are so bad at hiding your feelings, Daisy Shaddock.” She glanced at the bed and turned back, a brow arched.

  Harriet stepped close to stand by Madge.

  As succinctly as possible, Daisy explained about the previous day’s scene at the hotel, how she’d sent him away but neglected to learn where he might be staying. “I have to talk with him. Will you help me find Walt?” If he is still in town.

  Grinning, both friends nodded and dashed off to gather their coats and reticules.

  Sure that they’d run into him while on their errands, Daisy directed them toward the mercantile where they each bought their necessities. Then they strolled along the entire boardwalk on both sides of Main Street. But not one sighting of Walt. Panic set off a fluttering in her stomach. Reacting to Madge’s accusation, Daisy fought to keep a calm expression. “We’re doing this wrong.”

  “How can we stroll wrong?” Madge stopped and pinched her lips tight.

  “We need to walk near places Walt might go, not where we normally go.” Daisy remembered back to their conversations to see if he’d given the slightest hint of where he’d been. “Yesterday, his beard was shorter so he must have visited a barber shop.”

  “Or the bathhouse. Both of those businesses are on Elm Street.” Harriet turned down the closest alley. “Let’s cut through here. It’s faster.”

  Over the next hour, the three women exhausted the possibilities. They walked past the saddler, the doctor, the dentist, the cobbler, three mid-range hotels, and four
boarding houses. With her spirits in a nosedive, Daisy stopped. “We’ve done enough. He must have left town. We need to hurry back home and get our laundry done before time to report for work.” Maybe he’ll come to the dance hall.

  That evening as she prepared for work, Daisy took a few extra minutes to roll hanks of her hair along the sides of her head before weaving them into the mass that she twisted into a chignon. She clipped one of the paper flowers from the Valentine and pinned it on top of the roll over her right ear. Surely, he’ll realize I yelled at him from grief.

  At the dance hall, her hopes were dashed when Walt wasn’t there at the point Mr. Seppanen declared the hall open for customers. After that, the hours dragged. Luckily, after months of moving to the same musical numbers, she could respond like she actually was dancing. Her partners were varied, and many tried to evoke a smile. But she couldn’t fake happiness when her heart was torn apart. First, Perry and now, Walt could be gone from her life. Comprehension that her harsh words sent Walt away for good weighed heavily on her thoughts.

  Loud voices from the doorway drew her attention, and she gasped, her pulse racing.

  Walt towered over Mr. Seppanen, pointing in her direction as the older man shook his head. Another bill changed hands, and the owner nodded.

  Then Walt turned and strode toward her, his bright gaze steady on her face.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” Daisy waved a hand to her side, barely able to get out the words. “Madge, the one in the green dress, will give you a free dance to make up for this interrupted one.”

  “All right, miss. Glad to see you found your smile again.” The scruffy man shuffled off toward the chair under Madge’s placard.

  Then Walt stopped right in front of her and held out his left hand.

  She knew her cheeks were blushed as pink as the flower in her hair, but she didn’t care. He was here. “A dance costs a dime, sir.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I just paid for the entire last hour of your night.”

  No one had ever done that before. She slipped her gloved hand into his and raised her other hand to rest on the outside of his shoulder. “Then I suppose we should dance.”