Once they made their way into the street, the setting sun continued beating on her head. Whistling softly, Ned used an alternate route to drive the brougham to the boardinghouse. When he acted like this, attuned to her inner feelings, protecting her, she could almost forget the things he wanted to do that threatened her independence. Part of her, more than she wanted to admit, hated to hurt him, to strain the relationship growing between them. Then she remembered the way his patronizing her had dimmed the shine from her new life. She couldn’t afford to be that dependent on any man ever again.
They reached the boardinghouse before she worked up the courage to tell him her decision. The porch swing invited her to enjoy a few stolen minutes with Ned, but they would be vulnerable to watching eyes. Ned must have sensed her unease, because he guided her around the side of the house where beautyberry bushes hid them from passersby but kept them within sight of the house windows.
Ned dropped his hand from her elbow. “You’re upset with me. I’m ready to listen.”
Birdie took a deep breath. How could she explain her abhorrence of depending on a man when she couldn’t quite explain it to herself? “This is something I have to do by myself. Not with your help or Miss Kate’s. God’s help, maybe.” She allowed herself a small smile.
“But you yourself want to help your friends. We—I—care about you. You’ve come so far in the past year, all on your own. It’s all right to accept a gift.”
“I can’t explain it.” Birdie shook her head. “If I had the money to pay you back today, I would give it to you. But I spent it already, on the fabric I bought yesterday. I won’t accept any payment for the long johns or the eggs until I pay you back.”
“It’s not that much.” Weak, Ned, that’s weak. Tell her you refuse payment of any kind.
“I’ll check my records to make sure of the amount.” Her face relaxed a little bit. “But I’ve counted it over and over, every penny and nickel and dime.”
Ned counted to ten. He could list any number of reasons, from spiritual to practical, to prove her wrong, but God’s small voice told him to let it go. Staying silent was difficult when all he wanted to do was to take Birdie in his arms and beg her to let him help. “It’s no hardship, you know. God has blessed my business.” A previous discussion popped into his head. Following up on her suggestion could do no harm. “My business has picked up, and I could use a clerk to help me. Would you like the job?”
Before he finished voicing the question, color raced into Birdie’s face and she backed up a step. “Not me. I’m busy sewing. But one of the girls is real good with numbers, and I think she’s ready to leave. As soon as…” The same defeated expression he had seen on her face earlier returned.
“Would Miss Clanahan be interested?”
The expression on Birdie’s face gave Ned her answer before she spoke. “She’s shy, in spite of everything she’s been exposed to. She’s handy with a needle, though. She’s already helping me with the long johns.” A small smile lightened her face.
As long as the women lived with Aunt Kate, they wouldn’t go hungry. Ned thanked the Lord for that much. “I will let you do this, Birdie. But don’t you try to repay me one penny more than one cent apiece. You’re not the only one who keeps records.”
The window curtains twitched, reminding Ned of how long they had lingered outside talking. The sky had deepened to the dark blues of twilight. A single strand of red hair dangled across Birdie’s forehead and cheek. His fingers itched to tuck it behind her ear, but before he could untangle his fisted hand, she found it and took care of it.
“Thank you for standing up to that man tonight.” Birdie played with the strings of her sunbonnet, and he wished she would remove it and reveal her glorious hair. “I will see you in the morning, when I bring the eggs.” A frown line creased the bridge of her nose. “The next time Miss Kate needs eggs, send her to me. Please. She should know she only has to ask.”
Ned nodded in resignation. Even when he and Aunt Kate came up with the idea of her buying eggs from the store for the diner instead of asking Birdie for more, he had known this day would come. “I will.”
“Until tomorrow, then.” Walking away, she removed the bonnet from her head, and the final golden fingers of sunset set her head afire.
Miss Birdie Landry might not accept his money. But there had to be something more he could do to help.
God would show him the way.
Chapter 8
How’s this one?” Ned held up an empty jar from the top shelf for Gladys’s inspection.
“Perfect.” Gladys accepted it and tied a bow in a red-and-white check around the mouth of the jar. On the outside she pasted a sign drawn on fine drawing paper that simply said: BUTTONS. She giggled. “Birdie will never guess what you have in mind. And she can’t complain about this.” She gave the jar a prominent place between the cash register and a container of lemon drops on the front counter. “Between Aunt Kate, Mrs. Fairfield, and me, this jar will be full in no time at all.”
“And the button count will be a real contest. Everyone will win.” Ned climbed down from the ladder. “I hope people will want to help.”
“Mr. Keller has enough money to make things happen. In fact, he wants to be the first contributor. I’ll buy some buttons, and you can put any change into Birdie’s account.” She pulled a ten-dollar bill from her pocket and studied the array of buttons with the sewing notions. “I know she loves pearl-like buttons, but they’re a little more expensive. So I’ll get wooden buttons in all different sizes and shapes, as well as in all different colors.”
As soon as Ned counted out the buttons, Gladys dropped them into the jar, where they hit the bottom with a ping. “You said you have some buttons at home that you wanted to add?”
Emptying his pockets, Ned dropped a dozen or so buttons of assorted colors into the jar. “If I find more, I’ll add them.”
Gladys tacked another sheet of drawing paper next to the jar.
BUTTON CONTEST. BRING ANY BUTTONS THAT YOU HAVE AT HOME AND ADD THEM TO THE JAR. ON JULY 1st–3rd, GUESS THE NUMBER OF BUTTONS IN THE JAR. THE WINNER WILL BE ANNOUNCED DURING THE INDEPENDENCE DAY FESTIVITIES. GRAND PRIZE: A BAG OF LEMON DROPS AND A YARD OF YOUR FAVORITE FABRIC
“I never would have thought of lemon drops.” Ned popped one in his mouth.
“The children will be excited. They’ll pester their mothers, who will remember the buttons. Mrs. Fairfield said they’ve done the same kind of thing at church. Get the children to come and the adults will follow.”
Ned scratched his head. “Did it work?”
“It must have.” Gladys shrugged. “She wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”
The bell rang, and the door swung open. “Oh, you have a customer.” Birdie spoke so quietly that Ned could hardly hear her.
“It’s just me, Birdie, come on in. I wanted to talk with you anyhow.” Gladys winked at Ned. “You’re just the right person to help with this campaign.”
“What is that?” Birdie came to the front. “Fifteen eggs today.”
She waited while Ned counted them. “Fifteen it is.” He nodded at the button jar. “I’m asking folks to bring whatever extra buttons they have, ones that they find on the ground or that they took off a shirt after it wore out.”
“There are some in here already.” Birdie leaned over and studied the contents of the jar. “You’re off to a good start. Let me check and see if I have any. If I do, I’ll bring them with me tomorrow.”
Behind Birdie, Gladys smothered a laugh. “So you want the lemon drops?” She let out her laugh this time.
“If I win, I’ll give the candy to Ruth for her schoolchildren. And fabric always comes in handy.” She tapped on the countertop. “I expect to have three pairs of long johns ready by Friday if anyone inquires after them.”
“That’s good.” Ned nodded. “You’re getting a lot done with Miss Clanahan’s help.”
That brought a smile to Birdie’s face.
“God is al
ready using you to accomplish the mission He called you to do. I’m happy for you,” Ned said.
Birdie’s smile dimmed. “I don’t think there’s enough sewing for more than the two of us. Girls leaving the life need so much—clothes, jobs, a home.” She fixed her gaze at a point far away down the street, out to the farms lying east of town.
Gladys said with a smile, “I have an idea about finding jobs.”
Birdie spun around. “What’s your idea?” Turning to Ned, she said, “Gladys was the one who suggested the mission projects idea for our group. She’s a bit of a dreamer.”
Gladys laughed and hugged Birdie in a sisterly embrace. “I hope you approve of this new idea.” She glanced at Ned for confirmation to speak, and he nodded. “Actually, this is Haydn’s idea. Ned here needs help in the store a few hours a day.” She lifted her hand and started counting on her fingers. “I’d like to stop working at the diner after I get married, so Aunt Kate will need help. Mrs. French just had twins; she could use an extra pair of hands. There are other people who are willing to pay a small salary for someone to help them out.”
“But most people won’t want to have a saloon girl helping them, will they?”
“We won’t know if we don’t ask. Pastor Fairfield is preaching about being salt and light in the world, so God is already preparing our hearts.” Gladys bounced up and down in her excitement. “And Haydn would like to write articles about each girl.”
Birdie shook her head sharply.
“Listen to her before you say no.” Ned heard the pleading note in his voice. When she wouldn’t accept his help, he had hoped she would accept a suggestion from one of the other circle members.
“Haydn will use aliases. He’d love to tell their stories, but that is up to each lady. And he won’t describe them either, so no one will be able guess who is who.”
“I don’t understand. How does this help them find jobs?” Birdie hadn’t run away yet. Ned took comfort in that.
“The focus of each article will be the life story of each woman, with perhaps a mention of the work they would like to do.”
Birdie shook her head thoughtfully. “A lot of the girls are in that place because they don’t think they have anything to offer. But maybe I could match the services needed and the girls’ skills, since I know them.”
“Yes!” Gladys clapped her hands.
“What if they don’t want to speak with Mr. Keller?”
Birdie was weakening! Ned cheered internally.
“He would tell you what questions to ask, and you could tell him the girls’ answers. We don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Mrs. Fairfield will speak with the people needing help to make sure none of the women encounters another Nigel Owen.”
Birdie shivered, and Ned touched her shoulder. When she didn’t shrug his hand away, he left it there as he breathed a prayer. Please say yes.
“I’ll ask them.” Her smile highlighted light pink dimples in her cheeks. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. Thank you.”
Birdie splashed cold water on her face to wake herself up and pulled her hair back in a simple bun. Michal had already donned her new dress and was running a brush through her hair.
They heard a knock, and Miss Kate spoke through the door. “May I come in?”
“Yes,” Birdie said.
The doorknob turned, and savory aromas accompanied Miss Kate into the bedroom. She set a steaming bag on the bed. “Ham biscuits and sausage rolls. I made extra, so you can take them for the other girls to eat.”
For her landlady’s sake, Birdie would try to eat. If everyone in Calico had Miss Kate’s kind heart, Birdie wouldn’t have any doubts about their plans for helping the girls.
But then, if everyone in Calico had Miss Kate’s kind heart, the Betwixt ’n’ Between would have gone out of business years ago. A piece of advice Mrs. Fairfield gave Birdie jumped into her head: look at others with God’s eyes. That was the only way she could find her way to forgive men like Owen, men who had used and abused her.
“God sure has His hand on you,” Miss Kate said. “The way Shannon came to church on Sunday, after the night she must have had. And then you could ask her to invite everyone who wanted to, to come to the meeting this morning.”
The very hour of the meeting—four in the morning—spoke to the desperate circumstances of the women. It was late enough for the saloon to have closed down and its employees to be settled in their beds. And it was early enough that the girls hoped to leave without attracting Owen’s attention.
Michal was already eating a biscuit. “This is delicious, Miss Kate. The girls will enjoy your home-cooked food.” She ate every bite as if she didn’t know when she would receive another meal. Meals were a haphazard affair at the Betwixt ’n’ Between, cold leftovers snatched whenever they had a moment. Some girls turned to drinking their meals. Ones with an alcohol problem, like Michal’s best friend, Susanna, would face even greater challenges than Birdie had if they were able to escape their present circumstances.
“Your three friends are all waiting in the kitchen. I gave them a bite to eat. Come on down when you’re ready.” The door shut behind Miss Kate as she left. For a woman of ample proportions, she was able to move quickly and quietly.
Birdie tied her blue sunbonnet over her hair and helped Michal into her cloak. Michal was still fearful to leave the safety of the boardinghouse. She hugged the bag of sandwiches and rolls close to her chest under the cover of her cloak.
Birdie’s bag held only one item: the dress she had been able to finish. Only a single dress. Two more dresses were done except for the finishing touches—buttons and lace, matching thread for some invisible seam work. So little to show for so much work. Since she was now paying double for room and board—even though Miss Kate protested against it—she needed longer than she’d hoped to finish paying Ned back.
Candles cast a soft light on Birdie’s friends’ faces. Ruth hugged Michal as if they were longtime friends and introduced her to Annie and Gladys. Michal glanced up briefly from underneath the cover of her hood. “Glad to meet you.”
“We are honored that you let us come.” Annie’s smile invited the world to join in. “Between the four of us, we hope we can address any concerns the ladies have.”
Ruth gathered their dishes and put them in the sink. “Let’s leave so we can be there when the others arrive. My mother is already at the church, ready to greet any early comers.”
Her friends’ kindness brought warmth to Birdie’s heart but did little to ward off the chill of the early morning. She was grateful for the shawl draped around her shoulders. They walked in silence, Ruth, Gladys, and Annie surrounding Birdie and Michal, until they turned in the direction of the church side of the town square. A small light testified that someone in the parsonage was awake. “Papa said he would pray for us during our meeting,” Ruth said.
So many people had helped to make this happen. Besides the sewing circle, Miss Kate, Pastor and Mrs. Fairfield, and Lieutenant Arnold had participated.
Ned. Birdie refused to think about him right now. One by one the women slipped into the side door of the church. Mrs. Fairfield rose from her seat on the front pew, embraced Birdie, and turned to Michal. “And you must be Michal. A shiny new jewel in the crown of our Lord. Please know how welcome you are here in our midst.”
Michal colored, and Birdie remembered how uncomfortable Mrs. Fairfield’s outspokenness had made her at first.
“And what is that I smell? Breakfast from Aunt Kate?”
“Ham biscuits and sausage rolls.” Michal handed them to the pastor’s wife.
“Excellent! I brought over a pot of coffee and some biscuits, but Aunt Kate’s food is such a delight. Now, come this way. The room will be slightly crowded, but no one can see us in there.” Mrs. Fairfield opened the door to the same room where Birdie and Michal had first taken refuge. “I’ll stay out here in case anyone comes along later.”
Birdie took the lead, entering the room first.
One step inside transported her back to the Betwixt ’n’ Between. Unwashed bodies, cloying floral scents, whiskey, cigar smoke—all of those smells and more, with girls in varying degrees of undress. She shut her eyes and stopped just short of pinching her nose, long enough for the unpleasant memories to diminish. Once again she repeated those beautiful words about God’s love to herself. For I am persuaded, that neither…things present, nor things to come…shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Mrs. Fairfield had added “nor things in the past.” God wouldn’t hold her past against her after she asked Him to forgive her. Something about her sins being buried in the deepest seas. She lifted her head high in the love of her Savior and prepared to meet the women He had called her to help.
Chapter 9
Ahandful of women crowded next to each other on the far bench. Naomi. Orpah. Both names, Ruth had told her, came from the book of Ruth in the Bible. Shannon, who was ready to leave today. Susanna, a Southern belle pushed west by the Civil War and its aftermath. She had taken Birdie under her wing, protected her as much as she could, and comforted her after customers got too rough. Michal had told Birdie that Susanna had also taken the blows dished out by Owen when Birdie ran away. Tears at the memories burned Birdie’s eyes, and all her earlier fears fled, replaced by a courage unknown to her.
She glanced at the second bench, left free for the church ladies. She turned her back on the empty bench and laid a gentle hand on Susanna’s shoulder. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
Eyes blurry from a night of excess peered at the sunbonnet on Birdie’s head. “Birdie, ’sthat you?”
Here, in this room, Birdie had no need to hide herself. She removed the bonnet and shook her hair around her shoulders. “It’s me, Susanna.”
“I always did say your hair was like the sunrise.” Susanna lifted a tentative hand, and Birdie leaned forward, letting her friend run fingers through her hair. “All that color without help from the henna bottle. You’se a lady now.”
Calico Brides Page 18