Laundry Lady's Love (Ladies of Sanctuary House Book 1)

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Laundry Lady's Love (Ladies of Sanctuary House Book 1) Page 10

by Sophie Dawson


  “What are you going to do?” Ruth’s eyes held concern.

  “I’m going to find another place to do my work. There has to be someplace. I can afford to rent a spot. I really have too much business for me to handle.” Laura thought for a moment. “Ruth, are you still looking for work?”

  “Yes, I really don’t like working for Mr. Bragg at the train station. The way he stares at me makes me very uncomfortable.”

  “How about you quit there and come work for me? We can work your hours around your other jobs. Maybe after school on the days you aren’t cleaning. I’ve lost track. How many places are you doing now?”

  “Well, I have Massot’s shop and living quarters. I don’t do much in the shop. He doesn’t want me to touch anything. Mainly, I just sweep up the scraps and sawdust. His room upstairs is very spartan. It only takes me a couple of hours.

  “Then I do the bank and the station. Mr. Ritter is very good to work for. He doesn’t care if I’m there while the bank is open, but normally I’m not. That’s when I’m watching John, Troy, Lil’Pen, and Abraham. Troy isn’t all the time, or won’t be once Leah comes back to the shop. Then, Myra will go back to part-time, I think. Next fall when school commences I’ll only have Abraham. The three older ones will start school.”

  “It’s hard to believe they are getting that old.” Laura lifted the pot of ham and beans off the stove and placed it on a trivet on the table. Ruth got the pan of cornbread out of the oven. “What do you think of my idea of hiring you?”

  “Can you really afford to pay me. I don’t want to take money you need.”

  “You wouldn’t be. You’d be helping me. You know how many hours I work. I even iron after supper some just to keep up. That’s something you could do during the day. You do your own laundry while you watch the children, so why not be paid to do some more. We could set up some piece work prices. That way, whatever you had time to do you’d get paid for. If you didn’t get it done during the day, it could wait until the next day, or we could iron after supper. It really would help me out.” Laura grinned. “It would give me a reason to raise my prices too. That and having to pay to rent space.”

  “You didn’t pay Hank?” Ruth asked as she filled the coffee pot with water from the reservoir.

  “We did a barter. His barber and bathing towels washed for the room. Huh, he’ll have to pay me now. Maybe I’ll charge him extra.”

  “Laura, be nice.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Noah Preston looked up from his Bible as the door to his gun shop opened. He was surprised to see Mrs. Duffle standing there looking uncertain.

  “Come in, Mrs. Duffle. What can I do for you?”

  “Um, good afternoon, Pastor. Might I have a moment of your time?”

  “Anytime, Mrs. Duffle. I’m always available. Please come in and close the door. We don’t need to be trying to heat the outside.” He placed a ribbon bookmark on the page and closed the book.

  “Oh, of course, forgive me.” Flustered, she stepped in and shut the door.

  “So, are you wanting a firearm or is this a more pastoral visit?”

  “Neither, Pastor. It’s business.”

  Noah lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Do tell.”

  “You know Red Dickerson has been calling. Of course, you do, you’re one of the men who have to approve the suitors. Well, he asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Duffle.” Noah looked at her. She didn’t look like a betrothed woman to him. There was little happiness in her countenance.

  “Thank you. When I told Ha— Mr. Johnson, he decided that it might not be prudent for me to continue running my laundry service from his back room. It’s too cold yet for me to work outdoors. I was wondering if, with your wife’s approval of course, I could rent your backroom. It would only be until the weather warmed, and I can move back outside.”

  It seemed to Noah that Mrs. Duffle had shrunk just a bit. Or maybe it was her demeanor. Though she stood straight, almost as if she had a rod up her back and not simply a corset around her torso, there was an aura of tension laced with sadness surrounding her. What was going on with her? Noah hadn’t a clue. He would have thought she would be happy with the news of her betrothal.

  “I will consult with Vernie, but I’m sure she will not object. Would you like to see the room?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Noah stood and lifted the hinged counter top to allow her through. He waved her to precede him and followed her down the hall.

  Rather than having a center hallway with rooms on each side, his shop was only half as wide, so the rooms lined only one side. When they entered the last room, Laura made a slight gasp.

  “It has two windows,” she said with delight.

  “Yes, a benefit of being on the end of the building.” Noah surveyed the room. He’d seldom been in it. He only used the first two rooms. There was a stove that would work to heat the water. “What else would you need to be able to do your work here?”

  He watched Mrs. Duffle look around. “I will ask Mr. Johnson if I can purchase the bench I’ve been using for my tubs. This room is smaller, and so I’ll not be able to hang as much up. Lines will need to be strung.”

  “Come, let’s look at this next room. I think it would suit your needs also. That room is about the same size. We could set this up as your drying room.”

  “I’m not sure I could afford to rent both rooms.” Mrs. Duffle bit her lip.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure we can come to an agreement. I’m not using the rooms, so you might as well.”

  They walked to the front of the gun shop, discussing the rental price.

  “Thank you, Pastor. I appreciate your help.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am. I’ll talk with Vernie tonight. Come tomorrow, and we’ll settle up and discuss how I can help get those lines strung.”

  He watched as Mrs. Duffle’s eyes filled. What was going on? She should be looking forward to a wedding and the move to Hawk’s Wing Ranch. Instead, she was relocating her laundry business. There was nothing to stop Red and her from marry quickly. She could probably simply quit doing laundry for others. So, why wasn’t she?

  Mrs. Duffle was one of his flock. Having her working in the back rooms of his shop hopefully would allow him to gain insight into what was distressing her so. He’d be praying for her and for his ability to give her aid.

  ~~~~~

  Laura picked up the twisted wet shirt, snapped it open and pinned it to the line. She reached into the basket and grabbed another garment, repeating the process. Over the past couple of weeks, she’s settled into working in the back of the gun shop. Although the washroom was smaller, having the second room to hang laundry actually gave her more space.

  There was one line in the washroom she hung small clothes, handkerchiefs, and such on, but the rest went into the second room which was strictly for drying. She’d set her ironing board up in the washroom as well. Noah had hung several shelves to hold her supplies and flat irons. There wasn’t the large reservoir for water she’d had at Hank’s so she was hauling water more often. Pastor Preston hadn’t thought of carrying water for her, and she’d never mentioned it. The rent he charged her was far too low for her to make such a request.

  Snatching up a pair of trousers, Laura quickly pinned them. She placed her hands on her low back, stretching to release the muscles which were protesting that they needed a break. She needed a break from more than just laundry. Laura felt as if she needed a break from life.

  Everyone at the House certainly needed a break from her. She was making everyone miserable. She seemed to constantly be in a bad mood. Small inconveniences and irritations didn’t seem so. She was snapping at everyone, especially her sons. Just that morning she’d made Mark cry before he left for school. She couldn’t even remember what caused her yell to at him. Whatever it was didn’t warrant the scolding she’d given him.

  The back door opened and the softly called, “Laura,” made her rep
ly that she was in the drying room. Ruth entered, carrying a basket of pressed and folded laundry. They’d worked out having Ruth do ironing with her being paid by the piece. It was something she could do while she watched the few children she took care of. Whatever she got done Ruth was paid for. It had allowed her to quit cleaning the train station for Ira Bragg. The young man made Ruth very nervous, with his buggy eyes watching her every movement.

  “Here’s Clem’s things all finished. Do you want me to bag them up?” Each person who brought laundry to Laura had a large canvas bag with their name inked on it.

  “Yes, please. It’s in the other room.” It was after the café closed, so Blanche would be home allowing Ruth to come help Laura.

  Ruth left and returned shortly with another basket of clean wet garments. She moved to the next line and began pinning up the washed items. They worked in silence for a few minutes. The snap of shaking out each garment the only sound in the room.

  “Laura,” Ruth said finally. “Are you all right? I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” Laura knew why and really didn’t want to talk about it.

  “You just seem out of sorts lately. That thing with Mark this morning. It’s just not like you. It was just a bit of spilled milk. That would never have bothered you before. Why did it today?”

  Laura finished pinning the union suit onto the line before she spoke. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t know, feel as if my insides are trembling all the time. Look.” She held out her hand. “See, it’s not shaking. Not at all, but my insides feel as though they are shaking like an aspen leaf in the wind.”

  “Oh, honey. Do you think you’re getting ill?”

  “No, it’s not that kind of feeling. All I know is that little things bother me. They take on far too much importance. Like Mark spilling the milk.” She gave a sad chuckle. “How often does he do that? At least three times a week? Maybe four? We wipe it up and go on. He’s seven and a boy. He’s going to spill some milk. He even gets a wet rag, wiping it up himself.”

  Ruth grinned at her. “Yes, he does. We’ve trained him well.”

  “He and all the others. ‘Them what makes the mess cleans it up,’” Laura quoted the phrase used at Sanctuary Place in Iowa and brought to Stones Creek.

  “So, why such a fit this morning?”

  Laura felt tears being to fill her throat. “I don’t know. If I did, I’d know what to do to stop it.”

  “Is it Red? Does he make you nervous? Afraid?”

  “No, Red’s a gentleman. He’s a good man. One any woman would be proud to marry. He’ll be a good husband and father.”

  “But he’s not the man you want?”

  The tears slipped down Laura’s face. “No.”

  ~~~~~

  Red walked into the gun shop. “Morning, Pastor.”

  “Morning, Red. What brings you to town today? As if I didn’t know.” Noah grinned at him.

  “Well, I want to chat with Laura a bit and have some errands to run for Juanita. She’s not satisfied with what’s stocked in the way of airtights. Seems there ain’t enough canned peaches, tomatoes, and grapes to suit her.”

  “How are the Valdez’s? They settled in?”

  “Seem to be doing well. Juanita’s running the house well. Food’s tasty too. Her tamales melt in your mouth until they light it on fire.” The men chuckled. The Mexican couple had recently been hired by Hawk Connor as a housekeeper and stable master on Hawk’s Wing Ranch. “I’m getting better at speaking Spanish. Alberto speaks English pretty well, but Juanita doesn’t speak it very much. She understands mostly what you’re saying but not always. Makes for some difficult times and funny happenings.”

  “I believe Laura’s in the back. Thank you for giving me permission to call her by her first name. Seemed rather awkward to be calling her Mrs. Duffle all the time when she’ll be Mrs. Dickerson soon. Have you set a date yet?”

  “No, she wants it in the spring. That’s fine with me. No hurry. Might even wait until school’s out. Easier for the boys not to have to adjust to heading to town each day until school commences in the fall.”

  “Head on back. I appreciate you coming through the gun shop and letting me know you’re here. We’ve got the men dropping off and picking up their laundry through here now too.”

  Red nodded and ducked under the counter rather than lifting it to pass into the back area and headed down the hall. “Laura,” he said as he neared the rooms she used. He always did so now after he’d scared the living daylights out of Laura one time when he came into the room without alerting her.

  “In here.” The voice came from the far room where she did the washing and ironing. He went in. She was twisting some piece of clothing to get most of the water out before putting it through the wringer she’d recently purchased. Then he realized it was some man’s union suit. That’s what he’d come to talk with her about.

  “I didn’t expect to see you today. What brings you to town?”

  “Pastor asked the same thing. Errands for Juanita, and do I need an excuse to see you?”

  She smiled at him. “I don’t suppose so, but you don’t often come to town.”

  “I’m working, ma’am. Can’t come and do that at the same time, mostly.”

  “That’s why I was surprised to see you. You are hardworking.” She twisted the unmentionables and placed them in a basket on the floor half-filled with other bundles. Reaching into the rinse water, she drew out another garment. This time a pair of denim pants.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk with you about. Your work, not mine.”

  “Oh?” Folding the pants over she held them over the rinse tub and began twisting the dripping mass as water poured out into the tub and down her forearms. Her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows, but he could see they were wet.

  “I’m not sure I like you doing men’s unmentionables. Doesn’t seem real proper for a woman to be handling other men’s…” he waved at the twisted red union suit.

  “Comes with the territory, cowboy. Can’t very well do a man’s laundry without doing those.” Laura ran the pants through the wringer.

  “That’s what I mean. I’d like you to stop doing laundry for other men.”

  “I can’t very well make a living not doing men’s laundry. I don’t have women customers. They do their own laundry.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but it just don’t seem proper. At least you’ll be quitting once we’re married. Men won’t come to the ranch to bring their washing to you.”

  “Maybe not, but there are the cowboys on the ranch. I can do theirs. I’ll still like earning my own money. It’ll contribute to our standard of living too.”

  “I make enough to support you and the boys, Laura.” His voice had an edge to it. Didn’t she think he could provide for her? The thought bruised something inside of him.

  “It’s not that. I know you wouldn’t have come calling if you couldn’t. Like I said, I like earning my own money. I can put some away for the future. If there’s something I want, I won’t have to use household funds to buy it. Won’t have to ask for money to buy it. I had to with Alan.”

  “But…” he began.

  “No, Red. You don’t understand. There’s no way you can. I need to continue with my business, even on a more limited scale. When Alan died, I had nothing but what was in the wagon. I couldn’t find work. I had about six dollars, not enough to keep me and two very small boys for very long. I nearly had to become a soiled dove because no one would hire me. If Nugget Nate Ryder hadn’t had one of his Callings and come to the town I was in, I would have very likely resorted to that just to feed my children. I can’t let that happen again.”

  Red watched as Laura became more and more agitated. She was pacing, wringing her hands, not looking at him. Then, she stopped in front of him.

  “Can you guarantee you won’t get killed in your work or by disease? Do you have enough money in the bank, so I won’t have to worry about it if you do?”
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  “Well,” he began.

  “I didn’t think so. You can take your improper for a woman to wash some man’s unmentionables and throw it in a hog wallow!”

  Laura brushed by him, going out of the room. He heard the back door open and close, leaving him standing, staring at the red lump of some man’s underwear.

  ~~~~~

  Laura flung herself across her bed and buried her head in her pillow. She hadn’t thought of that time of grief and worry after Alan’s death in a long time. Red’s concern about her doing men’s underwear in her washing had brought the fear rushing back. Until he’d told her to quit, Laura hadn’t realized how important her continuing to take in laundry, even on a reduced scale, was to her.

  She’d been very careful with what she earned. She knew, to the penny, how much she had in the bank. There was a ledger with each transaction recorded, all her income and expenses, both business and personal. Laura carefully budgeted for every purchase she made, and there was a tally listed as she saved for the rotary washing machine she hoped to purchase.

  Always, she earmarked a percentage of her earnings that couldn’t be touched as savings for the future. There would come a day when she couldn’t work anymore. Laura planned to have enough saved to live on, and maybe to leave for her children when she passed. Never again would she be destitute if she could help it. Red not wanting her to wash men’s clothing didn’t hold a candle to her being self-supporting.

  Also, having to ask for a bit of money for every purchase had always bothered her. Alan had held tight control of all their funds. He made the money, so he had the right to determine how it was spent. Laura wasn’t a spendthrift, by any means, but purchasing the boys some penny candy or herself a new handkerchief, on occasion, shouldn’t have to require permission from her husband. Having funds of her own would eliminate that.

  The law gave everything she had to her husband once they married unless the man agreed to allow her to keep it. Laura hadn’t thought about it before, but she was going to insist her bank account stayed in her name, even if it was a new name.

 

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