by Carol Cox
“Ah, yes. The little girl from the ranch. I’m sure this will be a great change for you.” Her eloquent look said she doubted Catherine would be up to the challenge. “Follow me, please.”
Catherine bit back a hot retort. She was part of the business world now, and such remarks had no place here. She followed Miss Trautman through the archway and down a hall to a spacious room where two young women worked diligently at their typewriters.
“This is your new coworker, Catherine O’Roarke,” Miss Trautman announced without preamble. Turning to Catherine, she added, “These are Enid and Irene.”
The women glanced up long enough to send quick smiles Catherine’s way, then resumed clattering away at their machines.
Miss Trautman led the way to a desk in the far corner of the room. “This is where you’ll be working. Wait here a moment.” She returned to the door and called, “Mattie, please come here.”
When the receptionist arrived, Miss Trautman told her, “Miss O’Roarke will be taking on the responsibility for writing advertising copy. I’ll watch the reception desk while you explain the nature of her work to her.”
A pleased expression spread over Mattie’s face. She turned to Catherine. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to have someone take over this job. It fell into my lap when Ruthie left, but I just don’t have a talent for it.”
Miss Trautman sniffed in evident agreement with Mattie’s statement then left. Mattie watched until the door closed behind her then turned to Catherine again. “Ruthie couldn’t seem to stay on Miss Trautman’s good side. To tell the truth, though, we all have trouble with that.” She ended on a muffled giggle.
Enid glanced up from her typewriter. “And if you don’t want to wind up like her, you’d better watch what you say around here.”
“She’s right, you know.” Mattie lowered her voice to the faintest whisper. “That woman has ears like a fox. You have to be careful not to say anything to set her off.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Catherine tried to recapture her earlier optimism enough to respond to the twinkle in Mattie’s sharp, dark eyes. “I’d better get started, then. What exactly am I supposed to be doing?”
“Here, let me show you.” Mattie walked to a bookcase set against the wall near Catherine’s desk and stood on tiptoe to pull a bound volume from the top shelf. Hefting the heavy book in both hands, she set it on the desk with a thump and opened the cover to reveal pages filled with clippings of ads arranged in scrapbook style. “You’ll be writing copy for ads like these. The company places them in the papers back East to draw investors.”
“I see,” Catherine said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.
“If you want my advice, I’d suggest you spend today just going through the book and reading the copy here to see the kind of thing we’ve already done and familiarize yourself with the different properties Southwestern represents.”
Catherine found herself nodding. “That’s a good idea. I wouldn’t have the slightest notion where to start otherwise. How many ads do we have running at any one time?”
“More than you think you can handle, but never enough to satisfy Mr. Showalter. We’re entering new markets all the time.” Mattie made a face, and Catherine laughed. Mattie might not be a fashion plate, but her down-to-earth way of putting things made Catherine feel a little more at home.
Mattie straightened some pencils on the desk then looked up. “Miss Trautman said something about you living on a ranch. Is it near here?”
“No, the T Bar is up near Prescott.”
Mattie’s eyes grew round. “Oh, then you’re a long way from home. When did you get into town?”
“Just last night.” A sudden wave of homesickness caught her by surprise. Had it only been a day since she bid her family good-bye at the depot?
“You’ve hardly had time to get settled, then. Where are you staying?”
“The Bellmont Hotel.”
“The Bellmont?” Mattie echoed. “You can’t afford to stay there very long. Those prices will eat you alive. Unless, of course, you’re used to spending that kind of money. But if you are, then what are you doing working here?” Her saucy grin took any sting from her words.
Catherine remembered the sinking feeling she had the night before when the desk clerk told her the room rate. The Stapleys had recommended the Bellmont as a respectable place, well suited for a young woman. But apparently respectability came at a price, one Catherine wouldn’t be able to afford for long.
She looked straight into Mattie’s friendly eyes. “The truth is, I can only stay there another night or two. I’m living on my savings until my first payday, and that won’t last long at the rates they charge. I need to find someplace cheap but decent. Do you have any suggestions?”
Mattie’s face lit up. “There’s a room available at my boarding-house. It isn’t anything fancy, but the price is right and the food is good. Would you like to stay there?”
A wave of relief made Catherine’s knees go weak. She plopped down into her chair and smiled up at Mattie. “I’d like that very much. Thank you.”
Mattie winked at her. “I’d better get back to the front before Miss Trautman has a conniption. Come see me if there’s anything you don’t understand. I’ll go with you to your hotel after work and help you move your things to Mrs. Abernathy’s house.”
“Don’t I need to meet her first and give her a chance to see if she approves of me?”
“She’ll approve, all right.” Mattie’s confidence left no room for doubt. “She’ll be glad to have you there, and you’ll love her. Mrs. Abernathy is a fine Christian woman. You’ll feel right at home.”
Catherine stole a glance at the two other women after Mattie left, but they kept their heads bowed, hammering away at their machines. She pulled the book of clippings in front of her and began to study the advertisements.
Renewed excitement bubbled up inside her. She held a meaningful job in the territorial capital, right in the thick of things. And from the descriptions of the company in the ads, Southwestern Land and Investments was poised to play an important role in Arizona business matters in the days to come.
Wouldn’t the folks back home be impressed when she told them about her wonderful job? Thanks to Mattie, she’d also be able to let them know she would be taking a room with a fine Christian landlady. Perhaps she would pen a letter home that very night.
A stimulating job, a respectable place to stay, and a new friend. Not bad for her first twenty-four hours on her own. With a contented sigh, she bent over the clippings and resumed reading.
Before long, she found herself engrossed in flowery descriptions of business properties and irrigated farmlands. The more she read, the more her excitement grew. This wouldn’t just be a job; this would play a vital role in Arizona’s future. She would be a part of history in the making.
❧
“Friday at one, then. That will be fine. Thank you very much.”
Mitch put the telephone earpiece back on its hook and reached in his pocket for his pencil. Another interview to jot down on his rapidly filling calendar. He should feel jubilant at the reception his idea was getting among the subjects for the profiles he planned.
He went back to his desk to scribble a note about the time and place, then rested his elbows on the desktop and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. All he felt right now was tired. Just plain dog tired.
He had to hand it to Lucas Dabney; that idea about writing the profiles had been a stroke of genius. And Dabney pulled out all the stops on cooperating with this venture, giving pointers and assigning Mitch to stories with a political focus. His own father couldn’t have given him more encouragement and support.
Now if he could just figure out how to squeeze another twelve hours into each day.
After spending a full working day chasing the stories his boss so thoughtfully handed him then working late into the night on his articles for the eastern papers, he’d begun to
wonder just how long a man could get along on three or four hours of sleep each night.
It didn’t matter. An opportunity of this magnitude might never come again. He didn’t intend to be guilty of spurning a God-given chance to further his career.
One of the office boys threaded his way through the desks in the large room. “Got a letter for you, Mr. Brewer.” Without slackening his pace, he gave a flick of his wrist and spun an envelope onto Mitch’s desk.
Mitch stretched his arms wide and rolled his neck from side to side before picking up the letter. Wedging his finger underneath the edge of the flap, he ripped it open and pulled out the single sheet of paper.
He glanced at the signature at the bottom of the page and grinned. Alex Bradley—he hadn’t heard from his friend up north in quite a while. Mitch propped his feet on his desk, deciding to take a welcome break and find out what Alex was up to.
Dear Mitch,
Long time, no hear. Hope things are going well with you. I’ll get right to the point of this note. Do you remember me talking about that little spitfire I grew up with? Well, the little spitfire has turned into a woman with a mind of her own, all grown up and quite capable of taking care of herself—or so she keeps saying to anyone who’ll listen.
My point in telling you all this is that she’s managed to land herself a job down your way. If you think this is leading up to my asking you for a favor, you’re right. Would you mind checking up on her for me? I’m sure you can come up with a plan to do it in such a way she doesn’t suspect I sent you. And that’s important—make no mistake about it. Who knows what she’d do if she thought I put you up to this! You don’t need to go to any great lengths. Just make sure she hasn’t gotten herself in some kind of mess. If she has, I know her well enough to know she’d be too proud to ask for help after her declaration of self-sufficiency.
In all probability, she’s getting along just fine, and I’m acting like an overprotective big brother, but the truth is, she really is like a little sister to me, and I hate to think of her being down there all alone without anyone to watch over her.
I don’t know where she’s living, but her job is with the Southwestern Land and Investments Company. When you’ve found out what her situation is, write and let me know how she’s doing, will you?
By the way, I came across a copy of a collection of Billy Sunday’s sermons. Have you had a chance to read them? If so, I’d like to compare notes and get your views on his method of spreading the gospel. Wouldn’t it be something if we could all have an impact like that!
Thanks in advance for checking up on my “little sis.” Her name, by the way, is Catherine O’Roarke. Hope to hear soon that all is well and my concerns are groundless.
Regards,
Alex
Mitch stared at the letter a moment, then folded it neatly along its creases and tapped the corner on his desk. He’d known Alex for several years, long enough to be sure he wouldn’t ask something like this unless he really felt it necessary.
But when was he supposed to find time to run this little errand? A knot of tension formed in his chest. He had more than enough to handle just trying to do interviews and write articles in between job assignments.
He went over the letter again. From the sound of it, this girl had plenty of spunk to be able to handle herself nicely. Moreover, she wouldn’t be likely to welcome a stranger sticking his nose into her business.
Mitch sat upright and slid the envelope under his blotter. When he got a free moment, he’d write Alex and tell him how busy his life had become. Surely he would understand.
What if it had been his own sister, back in Indiana? He tried to think how he’d feel if she took a notion to move to the city on her own. With a sigh of resignation, he pulled the envelope back out and unfolded the letter. Where did Alex say this girl would be working? He scanned the page.
Southwestern Land and Investments. Mitch sat up at stared at the paper in his hand. The company belonged to Nathan Showalter, one of the businessmen he planned to interview. In fact. . . He shuffled through the papers on his desk. Ah, there it was. His interview with Showalter was scheduled for tomorrow at eleven.
The tense knot loosened its grip. He could check up on Alex’s friend without a bit of trouble. His conscience would be clear, and it would barely make a ripple in his already tight schedule.
Four
More than three hundred days of dazzling sunshine a year and virtually frost-free winters guarantee the likelihood of two, or even three, harvests per annum. Water from the mountain stronghold housing Roosevelt Dam eliminates a dependence on rainfall, truly making this a paradise for the farmer.
Catherine read the rest of the clippings on the page, her excitement mounting with every paragraph. Whoever would have imagined describing the barrenness of the surrounding desert in such captivating terms? But the more she read, the more she could believe in the promise contained in these lines.
Maricopa Farms. She jotted the name down on the list she had started compiling during the afternoon, marveling at the varied interests Southwestern controlled. All the different names had been nothing more than a meaningless hodgepodge at first, but she was finally beginning to sort them out in her mind.
After spending the day immersed in study, she now had a sense of the style used in the advertisements, the ways of phrasing used to show the properties offered in their best light. By tomorrow, she should be able to pick up where these left off and write copy that was just as good or maybe even better.
A shadow fell across her desk, and Catherine hunched her shoulders. What now, Miss Trautman? The woman had done nothing but hover over her all day. Just like that brindle cow of Dad’s that had to make sure the other cows knew she was the boss. Catherine gritted her teeth and kept her eyes focused on the volume before her. Maybe if she appeared absorbed in her reading, the woman would go away.
The shadow remained where it was, and Catherine heard a low, masculine cough. She looked up, startled to find a slender, well-dressed man standing on the far side of her desk.
“Good afternoon.” A smile lifted the ends of his mustache and crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes. “I’m Nathan Showalter.”
Catherine moved her lips, but no sound came forth. What had she been thinking? Her first day on the job, and she’d just been abominably rude to her new boss. She jumped to her feet. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t realize. . . .” Her voice trailed off. She dropped her gaze, acutely aware of how foolish she must seem in his eyes.
Mr. Showalter motioned her back to her seat and leaned against the corner of her desk. His smile never dimmed. “I’m glad to see you so absorbed in studying our advertisements. Your job will be of immense importance to this company. But I’m sure you can handle it. Your qualifications looked fine, but I was especially impressed by the way you expressed yourself in your letter. That’s exactly the kind of style I was looking for.”
Catherine cleared her throat and clasped her hands atop the book to keep him from seeing her fingers tremble. “Mattie told me some of what the company is doing, and I’ve picked up more details from my reading.”
“Good idea. That’s an excellent way to prepare yourself.” He stepped over to a map that covered a large portion of the adjacent wall, pointing out projects whose names she recognized from her daylong study. “Most of these are in the works. The others are ready to set in motion as soon as we acquire the necessary properties. But they’ll happen. It’s only a matter of time.”
Catherine rose from her desk and stepped over to join him where she could see the map more closely.
“Give us a few years and enough investors, and we can turn this place into a veritable Garden of Eden!” Mr. Showalter tapped the map and gave a self-effacing laugh. “Forgive me for running on so. I’m afraid I let my passion for all this get the best of me.”
“No, you’re absolutely right.” Catherine caught her breath in a quick gasp and gripped her hands together. “What greater opportunit
y could there be to boost Arizona than to show the rest of the nation the possibilities that exist here?” She glanced up at her boss and saw him staring at her thoughtfully.
She broke off, flustered. “I mean, I’ll do my best to portray Southwestern’s projects in a most favorable light.”
Nathan Showalter nodded slowly. “I’m sure you will. Your enthusiasm is exactly what we need.”
❧
“Southwestern Land and Investments has holdings of more than ten thousand acres, did you know that? Oh, of course you did. You’ve been writing those ads longer than I have.” Catherine shoved her trunk up one of the steps at Mrs. Abernathy’s boardinghouse while Mattie tugged at the other end.
“It’s just amazing, the things that are planned for developing this area.” She bumped the heavy trunk up another step and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. “This place is going to be a regular Garden of Eden some day.”
She braced her feet on the step and shoved at the trunk again. “Did I tell you Mr. Showalter himself stopped by my desk and spent quite some time telling me about his plans?”
Mattie laughed and pushed a loose strand of hair off her face. “Only about forty times in the last half hour. You’ve hardly stopped to draw a breath since we left the office.”
Together they got behind her cumbersome trunk and heaved it up the final step to the landing. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so excited! This job is going to be better than anything I ever imagined.” Catherine eyed the distance down the hallway to the room assigned to her. “I’ve learned so much about the business already, in just one day. We’re part of something really big here, Mattie, do you realize that?”
Together the girls pushed the trunk the final few yards down the hall and through the door into Catherine’s room.
“What I realize right now,” Mattie said, “is that moving that big old case of yours has nearly done me in.” Without waiting for an invitation, she flopped across Catherine’s bed.