by Megan Besing
“But…there must be someplace I could stay. I’ll find work. I’ll save every penny. I’ll earn my own train fare out of Spalding.” She gripped the back of a chair, a pink flush covering her cheeks. “I know my situation isn’t your worry, but the sooner I can get a job, the sooner I can be out of your life.”
“Miss Erickson, I’ll provide the tickets as soon as harvest is in. Train fare isn’t your concern.”
“Yes, it is.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve brought trouble on all of you.” Her gaze swept past him to rest on Sarah. “I know I can make my plans succeed.”
Sarah shook her head. “Spalding isn’t like the towns you’re used to. With all the miners coming through on their way to Idaho, you’d be exposed to a rough element.”
Grief jolted through Daniel at her words.
She must have noticed his expression. “I’m so sorry!” She rested her hand on his arm. “Please forgive me.”
“Of course.” He berated himself for his weakness. Whenever he thought he’d conquered his memories, they rose up, snakelike, to attack. He took a deep breath and looked down at Sarah’s worried face.
“Can I impose on you another night? I don’t know what else to do.”
Miss Erickson moved around the table and stopped in front of him, hands clasped at her waist. Tendrils of pale blond hair curled loose around her ears. Up close, her eyes were the blue of a sun-warmed lake.
“Mr. McNabb, there’s no need to speak as though I’m not in the room. If Mr. and Mrs. Halliday will have me, I’d be pleased to spend another night here. Beyond that, we’ll see.”
Speechless, he tugged at his collar, aware of the heat that suffused his face. Despite her soft voice, this little lady could probably hold her own with prospectors who swarmed through Spalding.
Sarah clapped her hands. “It’s settled, then. Helena stays.”
“Thank you.” Daniel and Miss Erickson spoke in unison. Her lips curved in a smile when she glanced up at him.
“I do appreciate the effort you’ve made to help me. I won’t forget your courtesy.”
“Yes. Well…” Feeling dismissed, he nodded at Sarah and then stepped out into the dusk.
Miss Erickson claimed if she found work she’d be out of his life soon. Now he wondered if he wanted her out of his life at all. Perhaps he’d been too hasty.
After breakfast the next morning, Helena returned to Beth’s room. The cabin had settled into a lull with Grant and Beth outside helping Mr. Halliday, and Sarah mending a shirt at the kitchen table.
Helena pondered her limited wardrobe. Mr. McNabb still had her trunk, which left her with either her green pleated travel suit or the brown and gray plaid everyday dress she currently wore. She shook her head. To make the best impression, she’d have to wear the travel suit despite the promise of another warm day.
Her black boots tapped the floorboards when she reentered the living area. Sarah glanced up, eyebrows raised.
“What on earth! You’re going somewhere?”
“To Spalding to find work. I’ve made up my mind. Once I save enough, I can leave for Spokane Falls. I saw the city from the train on the way here. It’s much bigger than Waters Grove and bound to have opportunities for lodging and jobs.”
Sarah stood, dropped the shirt on the tabletop, and gave Helena a one-armed hug. “Please don’t feel you’re in the way here. We truly enjoy your company.” She chuckled. “When I was a girl in Illinois, visitors might stay for weeks at my folks’ farm. You’re welcome for as long as you wish. Daniel promised he’d buy your ticket home after the wheat harvest.”
“I don’t want him to do that. I plan to buy my own ticket and be gone before harvesttime.” Helena leaned against Sarah’s shoulder, relishing her motherly touch. “My coming here has cost him enough already.” She took a step toward the door. “Spalding is only two miles east, isn’t it?”
“Two miles through dust an inch thick. If you wait until noon, Will can give you a ride in the wagon.”
“You’re kind to offer, but I don’t want to take him from his work. I’m used to walking.”
The road to town followed a straight line east, bordered by undulating hills covered with tufts of green grass. Small yellow sunflowers, purple lupine, and a cone-shaped white flower Helena didn’t recognize flourished on the prairie. Few trees dotted the horizon.
After the first mile, perspiration trickled down her temples. As far as she could see, there wasn’t a spot of shade anywhere on her route. One more thing to get used to out here.
Waters Grove had lived up to its name, with tree-lined streets stretching in every direction. She shook her head at the memory. Waters Grove wasn’t home anymore.
Once she neared Spalding, the jingle of harnesses and rattle of wagons smothered the silence of the prairie. She stepped up onto a boardwalk lining a street crowded with false-fronted businesses. Signs outside the buildings advertised a laundry, a lawyer’s office, and a market. As she walked farther, she spotted a café.
After stepping into shade offered by an overhanging roof on a mercantile, Helena noticed a sign on a drugstore across the wide street advertising liquors, groceries, and mine supplies. Noise from a saloon blatted through a set of swinging doors nearby.
“ ’Scuse me, lady.” Two men pushed past her from the open door of the mercantile. They carried wooden boxes to a wagon tied at a hitching rail then turned and reentered the building. Helena wrinkled her nose at the heavy smell of sweat that followed them. She stepped to one side and watched as they finished loading their wagon, unhitched their team, and joined a steady flow moving east on Spalding’s main thoroughfare.
After a moment’s decision, she backtracked to the café. Time spent cooking for her father and brother ought to qualify her for work in a kitchen. She entered, darting a quick look around the room. Faded blue-checked cloths covered four long tables. Matching fabric covered the single window. A chalkboard on the wall advertised the day’s menu—beefsteak, fried potatoes, boiled greens. Coffee included. The only thing missing was customers to eat the food.
Puzzled, she turned toward the rear of the dining area at the same moment the door to the kitchen opened and a skinny man wearing stains on his shirt from the day’s menu frowned at her. “Breakfast’s six to nine. Dinner’s at noon. Come back then.” He took a step away then cocked his head at her. “You’re dressed mighty fancy to be walking around Spalding this time o’ day. You new here?”
Helena squared her shoulders. May as well ask and get it over with. “Yes, sir. I’m looking for a job and wondered if you need a cook.”
“No need to call me ‘sir.’ Name’s Oliver Austen, but folks call me Oily, for some reason. And I don’t need a cook.”
She pasted a small smile on her lips so he wouldn’t see her disappointment. Silly of her to walk off the street and think she’d find work immediately. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll be on my way.”
“Wait. Can you serve tables?”
“Yes.” Hope tingled up her spine.
“Girl I had quit on me yesterday. Plates and cutlery need to be set out. You want to start now, I’ll give you a dollar a day.” His gaze traveled from her silk bonnet to the pleated hem of her skirt. “Best wrap a towel around yourself and dress better tomorrow. And take off that hat.”
A genuine smile lifted her lips after he returned to the kitchen. At a dollar a day, she’d have enough for a ticket to Spokane Falls long before harvesttime.
“Hey, girlie, come ’ere. We’re outta potatoes.”
“Over here, beefsteak’s gone.”
Helena hurried to answer the man who hollered for potatoes. When she reached over to lift the empty bowl, he leaned back in his chair and ran his hand over her hip. “You’re a lot better lookin’ than the last one Oily had in here.”
Ignoring his comment, she jerked away from his reach then turned toward the men who wanted more beefsteak. Try as she might, she couldn’t avoid the hands that grabbed at her. Men dressed in dusty denim and stained work shirts
filled seats at all four tables.
Nausea rose in her throat as the odor of greasy fried meat combined with sweat circled the room like a thick fog. She returned to the kitchen with dragging steps and plunked the crockery platter and bowl next to the range.
Oily shook his head. “I counted them steaks—one apiece. No more.” He shoveled several scoops of browned potatoes onto both the bowl and platter. “This’ll fill ’em up. Pour more coffee. Be time to close soon anyways.”
The men grumbled when she returned without beefsteak, but apparently they were used to Oily’s ways and piled the fried potatoes on their plates. Carrying the oversize coffee boiler in both hands, Helena approached the tables, shuddering when men patted her backside as she leaned over to pour their coffee.
Once Oily locked the door after the last patron left, Helena sank onto a kitchen chair and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so tired. Her slim black boots were fashionable for train travel, but after three hours on her feet her toes throbbed. The thought of the walk back to the Hallidays’ cabin loomed ahead like a judgment.
“Soon as you wash them dishes, you can go.”
Oily had told her she was to serve tables. He didn’t say a word about scullery work. Helena surveyed the lopsided stacks of greasy crockery piled next to a basin. Beneath her makeshift apron, she tightened her hands into fists.
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter 6
Helena limped along the road leading to the Hallidays’ farm. The route, which appeared so promising that morning, now seemed endless. Dusty flowers, limp grass, no birds.
She knew when she relayed the day’s events to Sarah, the first thing the older woman would ask was, “Did you pray about it?”
She kicked at a pebble on the road. Once again, she hadn’t prayed. Like the ticket to Spalding, Oily’s offer seemed like a gift from heaven. And like the ticket, perhaps the offer was a test. Then she thought of the silver dollar in her handbag and lifted her chin. What’s done is done.
A cloud of dust arose far down the road. As she squinted into the sun, the shape of a horse-drawn buggy emerged from the glare. She recognized Daniel McNabb’s horse—a chestnut with black points.
She picked up her pace and strode purposefully ahead, ignoring the pain in her feet. Mr. McNabb didn’t care about her problems. She’d acknowledge him with a wave and keep walking when he passed by.
As the buggy drew abreast of her, he jerked up on the reins. “Whoa, Ranger.” She jumped out of the way when his horse sidestepped at the sudden stop.
“Miss Erickson? What are you doing out here?”
“Walking to Hallidays’.” She kept her voice matter-of-fact, as though a walk to his neighbors’ cabin in the heat of the afternoon was nothing unusual.
He leaned toward her from his perch on the buggy seat. “Get in. I’ll take you there.” A frown creased brows over deep-set eyes the color of melted chocolate.
Her heart gave an extra thump. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he felt concerned for her welfare. “But you’re going in the opposite direction.”
“That’s easily corrected.” He patted the leather upholstery. “I’d help you up, but I need to hold the horse steady.”
As soon as she seated herself next to him, he guided the animal in a wide half circle and headed west, holding the reins loosely in his broad hands. The rolled-up sleeves on his shirt gave her a glimpse of his strong forearms. She forced herself to look away. Mr. McNabb was simply being kind, nothing else.
He tipped his head in her direction. “It’s not my business, but why are you out walking on such a warm day?”
“You’re right, it’s not your business.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted her sharp tone. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
A slight smile lifted his lips. “Forgiven. Now will you answer my question?”
“I went to Spalding to find a job, and I succeeded. When you came along, I was on my way back to the Hallidays’ cabin.”
Silence hung between them for a moment. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her where she went to work. Her job in the café was far from what she’d hoped for.
“Where’d you go to work?”
She lowered her head and mumbled, “A café next to the market.”
“Oily’s place?” He straightened on the seat, staring at her. “You didn’t.”
“I did. I told you I would earn my own train fare.”
“Yes, but Oily’s?” His jaw tightened.
The warmth between them cooled to studied politeness. When they arrived at the Hallidays’ cabin, he tied his horse to the rail and helped her from the buggy. Her heart jolted when his calloused palm wrapped around her hand. She swallowed hard, summoning all her willpower not to squeeze his hand in return.
She moved toward the cabin then paused, using the hitching rail as a barrier between them. “I notice my trunk is no longer in your wagon. As soon as it’s convenient, would you please bring it to me? I have need of my belongings.” Her words were an understatement. After a hot day wrapped in her green wool travel suit, she didn’t intend to wear the garment again until she boarded a train for Spokane Falls.
Mr. McNabb leaned against a buggy wheel, his face flushed. “I set the thing in the barn yesterday and then clean forgot it.” He scrubbed his chin with his fist. “I’m sorry. I’ll get your trunk here after supper tonight.”
“Thank you.” She walked toward the door, her sore toes forgotten for the moment. Tomorrow morning she’d wear one of the cotton dresses she brought from Waters Grove, along with comfortable shoes.
Better yet, she’d see Mr. McNabb one more time today.
Sarah and Helena stood side by side, peeling vegetables for a stew simmering on the range. After splashing her face with cool water and changing into her brown and gray plaid dress, Helena felt somewhat renewed after the hours at Oily’s. So far, Sarah hadn’t asked about her day, other than to cluck her tongue when Helena limped past her into Beth’s room to change her clothes.
She gripped the knife she held, wondering how to broach the subject of lodging. Now that she’d found work, she’d need a permanent place to live until she left for Spokane Falls. Her throat tightened. This cabin and this family already felt like home.
Sarah dropped carrot chunks into the pot then drew two chairs away from the table. “Let’s rest for a few minutes. I’m burning with curiosity. You said you found a job. Where is it?”
After experiencing Mr. McNabb’s reaction, Helena lifted her chin before replying. “I was hired to serve tables in a café next to the market. Breakfast and—”
“Not Oily’s!”
“Well, yes.”
Sarah grabbed Helena’s hands. “That’s no place for a lady. He hires girls who like to…let’s say ‘flirt’ with the men. His patrons expect to take liberties.”
Her encounters with Oily’s customers played across Helena’s mind. From the other woman’s words, she realized allowing the familiarity the men displayed was the reason Oily paid so well. Her stomach churned.
“I need the money he pays me,” she whispered. “I’ll only have to put up with the men for a couple of months.” As she spoke, she felt her words fall around her like flames, singeing her conscience. Tears trickled over her cheeks. “Oh, Sarah, what am I saying! I left an unhappy life in Waters Grove, and now I’ve created something far worse here.”
She fled to Beth’s room and curled up on the bed, burying her face in the pillow to muffle her sobs. Oily expected her at six tomorrow morning. She cringed away from the thought of serving breakfast while allowing herself to be fondled by anyone who wanted to touch her.
The first prayer she’d uttered since her mother died burst from her lips. “Lord, help me!”
Daniel led his horse into its stall and poured a measure of grain into a trough. Without intending to, he glanced toward the empty stalls at the rear of the solid log structure. Although six months had passed, Daniel still expected to loo
k up and see his brother caring for their draft horses. One decision that could never be taken back had changed everything.
He raked his fingers through his hair and strode to where he’d left Miss Erickson’s trunk inside the open barn door. The memory of her crimson face when he saw her limping along the road wouldn’t leave his mind. It was a wonder she hadn’t collapsed from the heat.
One thing he’d say for her, she was determined. The kind of woman needed out here. As quickly as the thought arose, he dismissed the notion. He said he’d pay her fare back to Illinois, and he’d keep his word, no matter how much her ivory skin and cloudlike hair haunted his hours.
If he had enough money, he’d pay her fare right now rather than see her serve tables at Oily’s. Everyone in Spalding knew the stories about that place, yet in her innocence she’d walked into Oily’s web.
He grabbed her trunk and heaved it into the back of his buggy.
Helena savored bites of her dried-apple pie. After her afternoon at Oily’s, the sweet treat helped dim the memory of men and greasy food odors. Mr. Halliday lifted his gaze from his plate to give her an appreciative smile.
“Sarah tells me I have you to thank for this pie.”
“I’m happy to help. I feel I’ve done so little to thank you for allowing me to stay here.”
Smile lines creased his weathered cheeks. He lifted his fork in a salute. “Pie like this, you can stay as long as you want.”
Sarah shook her head at him. “Will, you make it sound like you never get dessert.” Her chuckle took the sting from her comment.
“Guess I better mind my tongue, eh?” He winked at Helena.
Silent mealtimes with her father and brother left her unsure of how to respond. Helena couldn’t remember a time when her father had winked at her, or teased her as Mr. Halliday did. She drew a breath. “Well, sir—”
“Sorry to be late.” Mr. McNabb stood framed in the open doorway. “Got Miss Erickson’s trunk out in the wagon.” He tipped his head toward her. “Tell me where you want it and I’ll fetch it in.”