Montana Grit

by Ramona Flightner

  Leticia lowered her head and scurried from the room.

  “Yes, run away. Although you can’t hide from the truth!” Fidelia yelled after her.

  “Fidelia!” Annabelle snapped. “Although I wish you to visit me again, if you are going to treat Leticia poorly, I will ask you not to return.”

  Fidelia stilled, the anger in her gaze replaced by disillusionment for a moment. “Of course. You’ll always choose someone else other than me.”

  Annabelle stood in front of her sister, blocking her easy escape from the room. “That’s not true. I hope someday you’ll know that’s not true.” Her astute gaze roved over her sister. “You look terrible. You’re at least ten pounds too thin, and your makeup is too heavy again.” She raised a hand, stilling her movement when Fidelia flinched away from any possible contact to her face. Annabelle frowned. “He’s visited you again, hasn’t he? And he’s abused you again.”

  Fidelia shrugged. “Of course. I knew the Madam’s promise was worthless in the face of her greed.” She reached behind her and sat on the stool. She watched as Annabelle fought tears. “I’m not worth crying over.”

  Annabelle sniffled. “I am the one who determines your worth to me, and, as my sister, you are precious.” She moved to the icebox and pulled out milk. She extracted a cake and cut a thick slice. “Eat.”

  She watched, the worry evident in her gaze as Fidelia gobbled down the cake. “Aren’t they feeding you there?”

  Fidelia shrugged. “The Madam has read that men like thinner women. She’s decided to cut the food budget.”

  “Then who eats the buns I bring every day?” Annabelle demanded.

  “She and her henchmen. She has three now. It’s only on the days you give the basket to one of us that we get any of it.” Fidelia rubbed at her forehead. “I should never have told you that.”

  “If she has three henchmen, why don’t they prevent anyone from harming you?” Annabelle frowned as her gaze took in her sister’s protective posture on the stool.

  “They do from everyone but that one man. The Madam wants his money, and she will do whatever he wants to ensure she receives it. She believes she can always find another whore if the worst happens.” She met her sister’s shocked, irate gaze. “She knows few would mourn the death of a whore.”

  Annabelle took a deep, rasping breath. “I would. I would mourn forever.”

  Fidelia looked at her empty plate, ignoring the terror in her sister’s gaze. “She’s hoping for a virgin auction soon.”

  “A what?” Annabelle gasped.

  “An auction where she sells a virgin to the highest bidder.” Fidelia stooped lower onto the stool. “Only a desperate woman would want one of those men …” She shook her head. “I beg your pardon. I should never discuss such things with you.”

  Annabelle pulled out a stool and sat down. “I like to believe I am not so naive. After all I’m a married woman. I lost my first child, suffering the miscarriage alone. I understand the cruel realities of the world. But I never considered such a thing.” Her hand shook as she set it on the countertop.

  Fidelia reached forward and clasped her hand. “Life is harsh. And unjust. And mean.” She looked around the bakery. “It’s not all cakes and cookies and sweetness.” She blinked as though clearing away tears. “Although the reminder that such things exist is a balm.”

  Annabelle squeezed her sister’s hand, frowning when her sister freed herself from any further contact with her. “Speaking of sweet things”—she raised the knife over the cake as well as her eyebrow—“another piece?” She watched hunger war with fear in Fidelia’s gaze, finally making the decision for her and cutting her a smaller slice. “Here. Eat. I refuse to watch you starve while also suffering beatings so that woman can prosper.”

  “Who was the cake for?” Fidelia asked around a mouthful of chocolate cake.

  Annabelle flushed. “For me. For the family.” She looked down and shrugged. “I’m to have a child. I have tremendous cravings.”

  Fidelia’s fork clattered to the plate, and she stared openmouthed at her sister. “You’re expecting?” Her gaze flitted over her sister, and she sighed. “I should have paid more attention. The signs are there, but I didn’t notice.”

  “We’re just beginning to tell family and friends,” Annabelle whispered.

  Fidelia bit her lip and pushed her plate away. “I fear I will be a useless aunt.”

  Annabelle grabbed her sister’s hand. “No, you will be a wonderful aunt. I will want my baby to know you. To know Aunt Fidelia.”

  She scoffed. “Yes, let’s visit auntie in the whorehouse. I’m sure that’s what your husband’s always wanted for his child.” She stood, knocking over the stool behind her. “I wish you well, Anna. You’ve found happiness.”

  Annabelle jumped up, racing after her sister. “Dee,” she rasped, grabbing her arm. “You don’t have to return there. You never have to return there. We would help you.”

  Her sister turned a deadened gaze to Annabelle. “Your desire to help is six years too late, Anna. Thanks for the cake.” She wrenched her arm free and slammed the door shut behind her.

  Alistair entered the General Store and waited as Tobias attended to another patron. He listened for the door to close behind the customer before he focused on Tobias. He smiled with grim satisfaction as he saw his glower caused Tobias to pale. “I’m most displeased with how I heard ye treated my wife today.”

  Tobias raised his chin in defiance. “She got the treatment she deserved.”

  Alistair slapped his hands onto the counter, causing the glass to rattle in the case. “No, she didna. She got the scorn and derision of a bitter, angry man. Ye be careful, Tobias. Ye are no’ the only mercantile in town any longer. We have other options where we can purchase our goods from.”

  Tobias gave a derisive snort. “Your wife said much the same. I’m not worried.”

  “Ye should be. Yer aunt and uncle help keep ye afloat with their bulk purchases for the café. ’Tis no great secret. However, even their patience for how ye are treating the townsfolk is runnin’ thin.” He smiled with satisfaction as he saw Tobias grimace.

  “They are loyal to family.” He swiped at a sweaty brow.

  “Ye’d better hope they remain so.” Alistair stood tall. “I have no regard for a man who preys on the weak, who bullies women, and harasses those he knows have no one to champion them.” He leaned forward as though imparting a secret. “It doesna make ye a man. Nor does it prove ye strong.”

  “What do you want?”

  “The order my wife placed. And for ye to ken I’ll be paying close attention, Tobias. As will all the MacKinnon men.” He watched as Tobias hefted boxes of supplies from the back of the store and dropped them on the ground near the counter. “Would ye have helped my wife had she come alone?”

  When Tobias shrugged, Alistair shook his head in disgust as he lifted a heavy box and walked out the door to a waiting wagon. He repeated the trip three times before paying the bill and leaving the Merc, stopping by the family home to pick up Hortence, and then heading to his new home.

  Leticia stormed out of the bakery, intent on returning home. She walked down the back alley behind the main street buildings, with few lingering outside in the midafternoon heat. She stopped short when a man blocked her path. “If you would excuse me, sir,” she said.

  He matched her sidestepping movements and laughed as she flushed with aggravation. His brown eyes gleamed with malice as he saw her discomfort. “I thought you would soon join the beauties at the Boudoir, rather than run away with that useless scoundrel.”

  She shivered at his words. “I’ll never go to the Boudoir.” She stiffened her spine and raised her head. “I’m a married woman. Alistair MacKinnon will be displeased to hear of your mistreatment of me.”

  He laughed. “Speaking with a lovely woman is not a crime.” He reached forward as though to stroke a finger down her arm, and she jerked away from his touch. “Jittery. That can soon be … worked out
of you.”

  She shuddered at the word worked. “You have no reason to be upset with me, Mr. Jameson. Your sister would never have success with my husband.”

  He laughed as he loomed over her, lowering his face so his whiskey- and coffee-tinged breath wafted over her. “My sister will never have success with any man. I hope my mother realizes that and allows her to earn money for us some other way.”

  Leticia blanched at Walter Jameson’s blatant disregard for his only sibling. “I would think you’d protect your sister.”

  “She’s a stupid, fat woman. She’s none of my concern.” His lascivious gaze roved over Leticia’s body. “Whereas you, … you are quite fascinating.”

  She glared at him, hating the quiver of fear that raced through her at his look. “I am nothing to you, sir.”

  He nodded. “Not yet,” he murmured. “Not yet.” He moved to stand in the shadows, and Leticia wasted no time racing past him as she rushed for home.

  When she arrived there, she went upstairs and slammed the door shut to the room she shared with Alistair. She shrugged out of her dress and moved to the ewer, pouring out cold water to wash. Her hands shook as she scrubbed clean before donning another dress. She set the day’s dress to be washed and then collapsed on the bed.

  A while later she woke to Alistair caressing her cheek. “Love,” he whispered as he bent to kiss her forehead. She gasped and wrenched away from him. He froze, watching her with confused, guarded eyes. “Leticia? What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head, her gaze wild as she panted in an attempt to catch her breath after waking in a panic. She watched as he departed, and she collapsed back onto the bed, crying into her pillow. A moment later, she heard the door open and close, soft boot steps, and then the bed dipping near her hip.

  “Leticia”—he softly stroked her arm—“I made sure wee Hortence is settled for now. Will ye tell me what is the matter?”

  “I … Will you hold me?” she whispered, holding up an arm as she lay on her side. She heard him kick off his boots as he settled onto the bed. Soon she was hauled up against him, nestled in his arms. After a few minutes, the quaking receded, and she relaxed in his arms. “I thought I had begun to be accepted in town today. Women at the Merc stood up for me against Tobias.” She sniffled. “I’m such a fool.”

  “Ye’re the furthest I’ve ever seen from a fool,” he soothed. He rocked her back and forth.

  She was silent for many minutes, silent tears coursing down her cheeks as her fingers played with a button on his shirtsleeve cuff. “I never encouraged him.”

  He stiffened underneath her, although his caresses to her back and arms remained gentle. “Did someone hurt ye?” he rasped.

  “With words,” she murmured. “Walter Jameson was in the alley behind the bakery today. He said he was disappointed I hadn’t been forced to the Boudoir for survival. That he would have enjoyed seeing me there.”

  “Bastard,” Alistair hissed. “No one has the right to speak to ye in such a manner, my love.”

  She curled into him. “I fear many will doubt the legitimacy of our marriage for some time. Too many disapprove of divorce, and others are eager to believe the worst of me.”

  He kissed her. “Nothing can be done except give them time. We know the truth. Our family accepts the truth. That is what matters.” He kissed her nose. “Hortence is happy.”

  Leticia curled into him as she fought a sob. “Yes, she is.” She took a deep breath. “I saw Annabelle’s sister. She too believed I belonged in the Boudoir. Said she would always hate me for escaping my fate.”

  Alistair made a deep noise in his throat and tugged her closer. “She’s a jealous, spiteful woman who canna see the good fortune of having her sister move to this town and attempt to help her escape her miserable reality at the Boudoir. She’s intent on making everyone else around her wretched. Don’t give her the satisfaction, Lettie.”

  Leticia let out a deep breath. “I couldn’t help but wonder at all we don’t know about her, my love.” She raised her head and met his worried gaze. “At the root of it all, I think she is jealous of me. Of the life I have, and she can’t stand that I have this life when she doesn’t.”

  Alistair kissed her head. “The thought of ye at the Boudoir is more than I can handle.” He leaned into her palm as she stroked his cheek. “I ken she’s jealous and that it makes her mean, but she doesna have the right to upset ye. Or Anna.”

  Leticia rested her head on his chest. “I fell asleep and dreamed of life in the Boudoir. I thought you were a man come to pay for his time,” she whispered.

  He groaned as he tugged her closer. “I promise ye that ye will never live there. Ye’ve family now. We will always care for ye.” The tension in his hold eased as she relaxed again in his embrace, only to be interrupted when his stomach rumbled loudly.

  “I didn’t make supper,” she whispered.

  He laughed as he eased her out from under him and rose, reaching a hand down for her. “I know. I picked up the supplies from the Merc, and they await sorting in the kitchen.” He traced a finger down her cheek. “Although I did put the things away in the icebox.” He grinned as his stomach grumbled again. “Come. Let’s go to the café. We can have our first home-cooked meal tomorrow.”

  He linked their hands and walked with her downstairs, calling for Hortence who played in her room. Leticia fixed her hair and smiled as Alistair hefted Hortence to his hip as they departed for the café.

  “Are you better, Mama?” Hortence whispered. “Papa told me that I needed to play quietly while he soothed you.”

  “Oh, I’m all better, little love,” Leticia said. “I needed a little rest and then to speak with your papa.”

  Hortence reached her hand out to her mother, shifting from Alistair’s hold to her mother’s. “Remember what you told me, Mama. Words only have power if you give it to them.”

  Leticia shared a long look with Alistair and then kissed her daughter’s head. “We all need to be reminded of that lesson, my little darling.”

  They arrived at the café, and Alistair followed his wife and daughter inside. He smiled at Irene who fussed over Leticia and then whisked Hortence away to the kitchen.

  Harold winked at them as he filled their water glasses. “We can’t do much by way of a wedding present, but we can give you a dinner for the two of you.”

  Leticia flushed. “I spent plenty of time separated from her, and Alistair and I had time alone in Helena. Once she’s had her visit with Irene, I’d like for her to have dinner with us.”

  Harold nodded. “Of course.” He pointed to the board propped against the wall. “You have two options for this evening.” He waited as they read them before he whispered, “I’d recommend the trout.” After Leticia and Alistair agreed with his suggestion, he wandered away to speak with other customers before delivering their order to Irene in the kitchen.

  Alistair played with his wife’s fingers. “All is well, love. Eating dinner at the café only helps the townsfolk accustom themselves to seeing ye with me again.”

  She smiled and traced his thumb with one of her fingers. “School starts soon. The new teacher is to arrive any day.” She bit her lip. “Do you think he will truly bar Hortence from attending?”

  Alistair heaved out a deep breath. “No’ if I have anythin’ to say about it. But it would help if some of the parents were friendly toward ye.”

  Leticia shrugged. “I don’t know what we can do.”

  Alistair’s smile was wry as he flushed. “I had a run-in yesterday with Mrs. Jameson. She was irate we had tricked her and that I had used her daughter so shamelessly.” His eyes flashed with anger. “It took all I had not to do her bodily harm when I think about how she gave that man money so he’d leave town with ye.” He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

  She stroked his hand. “She’s a mean, bitter woman, who wants to hurt us because we escaped her net. Just as Cailean did with Annabelle.”

  “Aye
, but she can still harm wee Hortence, and that I canna allow.” His brown eyes were molten with their fury. “I advised her that we’d have a reception in a few weeks’ time. To thank the town. I think that would be a way to reestablish ye here.”

  She flushed before giggling. “I promised the same to the women in the Mercantile.” Her eyes shone with mischief. “Although I’d said it would be in a week.”

  “The timing isna what is important. What matters is that we have the reception and invite everyone. Including the Jamesons.”

  She shuddered. “Why should we invite them?”

  Alistair’s gaze was cunning. “To show we are above their pettiness. And to make it known, through stories and whispers in the right ears, all that she did in her attempt to separate ye from yer daughter. And from me.”

  Her smile broadened. “You want to use the town’s inherent addiction to gossip against her?”

  “Aye, why no’?” He shrugged. “She shouldna be the only one capable of manipulatin’ the feelings of those in this town. We should have a say.” He squeezed her hand. “With any luck, the new teacher will be here, and he will see how you are esteemed by those in this town. At the very least, he’ll doubt any nasty rumors he hears about ye.”

  Leticia sighed with relief. “I know Anna will make us a cake. Let’s say two weeks from Saturday. All we must do is post a flyer at the livery, café, and bakery, and the whole town will know within a day.”

  Chapter 19

  Two weeks later Leticia arrived at the bakery earlier than usual. She entered the back door, dragging a sleepy Hortence alongside her. After tucking her into the cot in the back room, Leticia joined Annabelle in the kitchen. “I don’t know why I insisted on coming in early. There isn’t much I can do to help you.”

  Annabelle laughed. “I disagree. Stir this for me while I start on another cake batter. My mother always said it had to be stirred at least one hundred times to ensure it rose properly.” She grinned. “You can have the arm exercise today!”