“He’s in the lobby waiting for me.”
They came to the stairs and descended to the lobby, where a crowd of guests had gathered at the windows. Jude stood among them, his gaze directed outside.
Elizabeth lifted Rose and pushed through the crowd. “Pardon me.”
A young man moved aside just as Jude turned toward her.
“Is it all right if I go outside now?” Rose asked.
“No, you may not go outside.” Elizabeth held her sister tight and addressed Jude. “What’s happening?”
“There’s no need to worry. It’s just a war dance.”
“No need to worry!” Her voice was louder than she intended and she glanced around her to find several people looking in her direction. She spoke quieter. “A war dance?”
“It’s not really a war dance. They’ve already been to war and now they’re celebrating.” He stepped aside and motioned out the window. “The Chippewa are not here to hurt us. Have a look.”
Elizabeth walked to the window and looked outside. Directly in front of the Northern a large circle of Indians danced to the rhythm of a drum. A man sat on the ground with a drum positioned in front of him and he beat it with a stick. In the center of the circle, three young women held long poles with hoops at the end. These poles were beautifully ornamented with ribbons and bells and scraps of red cloth. In the outer circle, at least a dozen men and women danced in single file, crouching low and then jerking upright, lifting one foot and then the other. They stepped out on their toes and then came down on their heels in a movement that looked awkward, yet mesmerizingly beautiful at the same time. Their leggings and tunics had tassels and other colorful ornaments dangling from them.
“They wear bells on their clothing, so it makes noises when they dance.” Jude spoke from right behind her. “It really is perfectly safe.”
Someone opened the door and a few people left the lobby to stand on the porch.
“Would you like to go out and see it closer?” he asked.
She put her hand to her throat and shook her head. “No, thank you.”
The noise grew more intense and another peek outside revealed that more Indians had joined the dance and now several townspeople had come out to watch.
Sunshine beat down and the dancers began to glisten with sweat. More than one warrior was among them. Their feathers bounced in their hair and their loincloths rippled around their waists. They looked fierce. If this was a celebration, why did no one look happy?
Some had hatchets hanging from ropes at their waists and more than one wore a rifle slung over his back.
Rose wiggled out of Elizabeth’s arms and tugged on her skirt. “Let’s go out and see, Lizzie.”
“No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t want you out there.”
“Are you afraid?” Jude asked.
Everything inside her demanded that she run back to her room, lock her doors and cover her ears until the sound went away. But then she remembered his earlier implication that she was too weak to withstand life on the frontier. This was part of that life. She couldn’t show fear now. If she did, she’d just prove him right—and she couldn’t do that.
She straightened her back. “I’m not afraid.”
Rose’s face perked up. “Then we can go?”
Elizabeth glanced outside and saw numerous children in attendance. “I suppose.”
Jude looked surprised for a moment, but then he opened the front door wider. “After you.”
Elizabeth took Rose’s hand and walked through the door with her chin held high, though her knees were shaking beneath her gown.
He watched her closely, the planes of his handsome face quirking into a half smile—something she chose to ignore.
Instead, she skirted past him on the porch and forced herself to watch the dancers.
After he closed the door and joined her, she asked, “What are they celebrating?”
“Victory over their enemy, the Dakota.”
“Why do they celebrate here, and not in their own village?”
“Little Falls sits in a contested zone between the Chippewa and Dakota. They celebrate here to claim the territory—and, I suspect, to keep us aware of their presence. Do you see the young ladies in the center?”
She nodded. The women were beautiful with their dark hair flowing freely to their waists.
“Each hoop they carry represents the death of an enemy warrior. In this case, there were three Dakota who were killed in their recent raid.”
A shudder ran the length of Elizabeth’s spine.
Rose strained to leave her side, but Elizabeth held her sister’s hand tight. “It’s time to go inside, Rose.”
Jude turned with her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She shook her head, her whole body ill. How could they celebrate killing?
He took a step closer. “Are you all right?”
No, she wasn’t all right. She was terribly frightened. Why had she thought this place was the answer to all her prayers? Things had been so much safer in Rockford. Never once had she seen an Indian victory dance. Here, Jude and everyone else acted as if it was a common occurrence.
She glanced into his face and saw his concern. He truly thought she was too weak for life in Little Falls—and he should know. What other atrocities would she face?
But what were her choices? She had to succeed here, because she and her sisters had nothing in Rockford to return to. She would have to pull herself together. A strong woman wouldn’t behave like this. “I’m fine.” She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to look back at the dancers.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to watch.”
Rose moved her head this way and that to get a better view of the dancers, so Elizabeth picked her up to see over everyone’s heads. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He nodded, but didn’t move away from her. After a few moments, he spoke. “Despite how this looks, they are friendly.”
She didn’t respond. How could she? She had little comprehension of Indian life.
“Their enemies are the Dakota in southern Minnesota, not us,” he continued. “They fight back and forth. The deaths they’re celebrating are the restitution they’ve gained for the death of three of their warriors from a few weeks ago.” He put his hand on the small of her back. “I really am sorry I frightened you. Would you like to go back inside?”
His touch surprised her—not only because he reached out to comfort her, but because it was so tender.
His brown eyes were full of compassion, and a strange feeling stirred within her. “It wasn’t your fault—and I really am all right.”
He dropped his hand back to his side and cleared his throat. “The last time they danced—”
The dancers stopped hopping and jumping, and threw up their arms. With a wild cry, they gave three of four whoops, placing their hands over their mouths and taking them away quickly.
Elizabeth grabbed Rose by the shoulders and was about to race into the hotel when they returned to the normal rhythm and continued shaking and moving in the circle.
The longer they stood there, the harder it was to watch the Indians dance—especially when Elizabeth allowed her eyes to wander to the women holding the poles in the center of the circle. “It’s time to go back inside, Rose. I need to help Martha with supper.”
Rose’s bottom lip protruded, but she didn’t put up a fight. They went back inside the hotel, Elizabeth’s whole body shaking with the pulse of the drum. She doubted she’d be able to sleep peacefully tonight.
She looked over her shoulder and found Jude watching them. He offered a reassuring smile and then pulled the door closed, staying outside to watch.
They had only known each other for two days, but already she sensed in him a kindness that was hard to come by
in a world that had treated her poorly. The letter she’d hidden in the bottom of her trunk still troubled her, but there had to be a good explanation. Surely she had read more into it than was intended.
At least that’s what she continued to tell herself.
* * *
Nearly everyone had come out to watch the Indians dance, as they usually did. Jude stood by and watched for a few more minutes, speaking to friends and neighbors. Several Chippewa who lived and worked in Little Falls were participating in the celebration.
The traditions of the Chippewa never failed to amaze Jude, even if he didn’t fully understand them. They had taken the lives of three Dakota warriors because they were avenging the blood of their fallen men—but it meant the Dakota would now seek revenge for the three who had died this very day.
He felt bad that Elizabeth had been so shaken by the dancers—and that he’d been the one to explain the reason for the celebration. He had touched her back in a spontaneous gesture to comfort her, yet the contact had made him all too conscious of how she affected him. Even now, his hand still tingled and he had to rub it to ease the sensation.
The night before, as he’d stood in the ballroom and watched her dance, he’d enjoyed himself far too much. Hopefully one of the gentlemen had made an impression on her. No doubt several would be coming by to court her and Grace. He expected a full dining room for all three meals until both were married.
He sighed and looked back at the dancers. He should go inside and fix the hinge on the kitchen door that Martha had been bugging him about for almost a week—yet he needed some space from Elizabeth until he could clear his head.
Jude walked east on Broadway. The streets were quiet, with everyone watching the dance. Many of the storekeepers had even closed their shops to go and observe the scene. Even though there had been other dances like it, they never failed to amaze the citizens of Little Falls.
Movement down an alley caught Jude’s attention.
A group of four men entered the back door of Harper’s Emporium; one of them cast a glance over his shoulder to the opposite end of the alley.
Jude pressed against the side of a building, hoping he had not been seen.
It was hard to make out the faces of the men, but he had a feeling he knew who they were. No doubt Hugh and his men were using the distraction of the Indian dance to loot the store.
Anger seethed inside Jude’s chest. Roger Harper was a good man who worked hard. Something like this could close his store and force him to file for bankruptcy. It was hard enough to keep a store open with the economy as tight as it had been for the past two years.
Jude wasn’t armed, but he couldn’t stand back and let this happen to another business owner in Little Falls—especially in broad daylight. He refused to let fear stop him from doing what was right.
He approached slowly, not wanting to startle the men, knowing they probably had weapons.
One of the men exited the store with a bag over his shoulder.
“What’s going on?” Jude asked.
The man jumped and pulled his pistol from his holster. “What do you want?”
Jude put up his hands to let him know he wasn’t armed. “I’d like to know what you’re doing.”
Hugh stepped out of the store next, his fingers hovering over his pistol. “It’s none of your business, Allen.”
Jude slowly lowered his arms. “Maybe it’s not, but Roger Harper is a friend.”
Hugh stared at Jude for a minute and then motioned his head toward the other man. “Mick, go inside and clear everyone out. We’re done for now.”
Mick put his pistol back into the holster and disappeared inside.
Hugh took a step toward Jude. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but I’d advise you to keep it to yourself.”
“I know exactly what I saw.”
“Do you?” Hugh was so close, his stale breath filled Jude’s nostrils. “I’ve seen a few things myself.”
Jude frowned as the other three men filed out the back door of Harper’s Emporium. Each man carried a sack slung over his back. One or two cast a glance at Jude as they walked calmly down the alley toward their waiting horses.
“I know a thing or two about your maids.” Hugh’s voice became low and threatening. “And I know a few people who don’t like what you’re doing. I’d watch your step. All I’d need to do is mention your name to the right people and no one in your hotel would be safe.”
Jude tried not to show Hugh how close his words came to their mark. The women under his protection had no one in the world to trust but him. He couldn’t put them at risk. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? I’d especially watch out for Jack Dew.” Hugh narrowed his eyes. “He suspects what you’ve been doing and he said he’ll kill you if one of his ladies goes missing. No questions asked.”
Jude would never admit anything to Hugh—but he couldn’t back down now, either.
“Roger Harper doesn’t deserve to be robbed. He’s a hardworking man with a family to support—”
“My men got families to support, too.”
“At least Roger is doing it honestly.”
Hugh took a step forward. “You really want to mess with me?”
Jude clenched his jaw, anger and frustration warring within his chest. “Keep your men away from the honest folks and we’ll have no trouble.”
“Keep your mouth shut and we’ll have no trouble—and neither will your prostitutes.”
“They’re not prostit—”
Hugh turned away and mounted the one remaining horse, drawing it to the side to face Jude. It pranced on anxious feet and Hugh had to hold the reins tight. “Say hello to Grace for me. I look forward to seeing her again real soon.” His smile was anything but gentlemanly as he spurred his horse down the alley.
Jude hadn’t realized his fists were clenched until they began to ache.
He strode out of the alley and walked back to the Northern. There was little he could do to bring justice to Hugh Jones for what he’d just witnessed. If he told the sheriff, it wouldn’t be dealt with, and if he told Roger Harper, the man was liable to take the law into his own hands and get hurt in the process. Whether Jude said something or not, everyone would know who was guilty.
A few guests still stood in the lobby, watching the dancers from a safe distance, so Jude pulled Pascal aside and spoke quietly. “I need you to be extra vigilant. Don’t do anything that would make the ladies worry, but keep your eyes and ears open to suspicious activity—all right?”
Pascal nodded. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep those ladies safe.”
“I know you will.” Jude clapped the man on the shoulder and walked down the hallway into the parlor that connected with the ballroom.
He closed the door and crossed the room to where his piano sat, waiting to be played. He lived a simple life with simple pleasures. Every spare penny he earned went into his hotel and mission work. But there was one thing he owned that had cost him a great deal of money.
His piano. The instrument that brought him more joy than almost anything else. He played it almost every night, especially when he was upset. As a boy growing up in a brothel in St. Louis, he hadn’t had the luxury of going to school like other children. His mother had been a prostitute and he’d never known his father. The only male figure in his world was the brothel owner, who had been distant.
Jude had dreamed of getting his mother out of the brothel and into a home of her own, promising himself that as soon as he was old enough he would get a good job and provide for her. But she died at the hands of a drunken client when Jude was twelve. With no education and no other family but the women who worked at the brothel, Jude had quickly taught himself how to play the piano so he could stay employed. His piano skills had made him irrep
laceable to the owner.
Jude sat on the stool and laid his fingers on the cool ivories. He wanted to play, but he was afraid he’d disturb everyone, so he just touched the keys.
If he had been a single man with no one to protect or worry about, he would have done all he could to make Hugh pay for his crimes. But he had the safety of everyone in the hotel to consider. Having Clarence’s daughters under his care was a little different than the others. Their innocence and faith in him was something he didn’t want to lose.
Elizabeth’s trust was a gift he wouldn’t take lightly, either. After he had offered to let her and her sisters stay, she had looked at him differently, as if he was the first man who had done her a kindness in a long time. When she looked at him he wanted to stand taller, do better and be stronger. He’d never felt that way about anyone in his life. It had always been him against the world and he hadn’t worried too much about trying to impress anyone. Now...now he wanted her to think highly of him—and to like him.
Jude pressed down on the piano keys in frustration. He had no business entertaining any thoughts about Elizabeth Bell. She would never approve of his mission work, and besides that, he had nothing to offer except for a hotel that she could rightfully claim a share of, anyway. His last name wasn’t even his. It had been the name of the man who owned the livery near the brothel where he had grown up. The man had been kind to Jude once—only once—and it had meant everything to Jude, so he had used the man’s last name. If Elizabeth knew the truth about him, she would never look at him the same way again. He was destined to be single for the rest of his life. It was the fate he’d accepted when he answered God’s call to rescue prostitutes.
Someone needed to marry Elizabeth, if for no other reason than so Jude could stop thinking about her.
Chapter Six
Five days later, Elizabeth held the thick hotel ledger in her hands as she walked down the hallway to the first room at the top of the main staircase. It had taken her almost a week to go over the accounts in fine detail and come up with a budget that would help them cut costs and earn more income. It had been hard to find the time between cooking, cleaning and entertaining the young men who flocked to the hotel every evening, but she had worked late each night and sneaked in moments throughout the day.
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