Ellen’s cabin still smelled of sickness and death when she opened the door. She walked to the window and threw it open to let in the fresh air. Rummaging through Ellen’s few dresses, she couldn’t find anything she thought was appropriate. Maybe one of her own dresses could be altered to fit. Ellen was shorter and plumper, but surely something would work.
She went back home and sorted through her own things. At the bottom of her chest, she found a blue silk dress she had been saving for a dance or some other special occasion. The seams were wide and could easily be let out. The length wouldn’t matter. She carried it out to the parlor and showed it to her mother, who agreed to see what she could do with it.
Miriam looked on with a supercilious smile. “Useless is what you are,” she said. “Can’t you do anything for yourself?”
Jessica ignored her, but the words hurt. “Can I help do anything?” she asked her mother.
“I do need to put supper on, dear. Could you let the seams out if I show you how?”
Jessica frowned uncertainly. She felt all thumbs with a needle. “I can try,” she said reluctantly. At least it was better than trying to cook supper herself.
Her mother gave her a pair of tiny scissors and showed her how to snip the threads without harming the delicate fabric, but Jessica still spent an hour just letting out all the seams in the bodice, waist, and arms. At last, she laid the dress across the sofa and went to the kitchen. “Thanks, Mama,” she said. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Ooh, madame is willing to soil her lily-white hands in the kitchen,” Miriam sneered.
Jessica was too tired to think of a good answer, so she just shrugged and took the plates her mother held out to her. She began to set the table, all the while aware of Miriam’s resentful glare. She had thought they were getting along better. Why was her cousin acting like this now? She didn’t need this aggravation today.
“I know what you’re planning, and it won’t work,” Miriam said finally.
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Jessica picked up the silverware and began to set it beside the plates.
“You think you’ll catch Clay by taking in Franny. But he won’t be trapped that easily.” Miriam tossed her head. “He told Caleb you weren’t his type.”
Fresh tears clogged Jessica’s throat, and she swallowed hard. She wasn’t about to let Miriam see how her words hurt. Rather then risk having her voice quiver, she said nothing at all but continued with her chore. Irritated that her taunt had gone unanswered, Miriam muttered under her breath and stormed from the room.
“That’s really not why you want Franny, is it, dear?” Her mother’s face was creased with worry.
Carefully, Jessica laid the last setting on the table and turned to face her mother. “Would you really believe that I would do something like that, Mama?”
She had her answer in the flash of uncertainty that crossed her mother’s face. “I’m going for a walk,” Jessica said. She whirled and practically ran from the room. Was that how everyone saw her? As a conniver and deceiver? She hurried across the parade ground to Ellen’s cabin, where she sat at the familiar battered kitchen table. In the peace and quiet there she faced her own nature.
She had done things like that before. No wonder that’s what people thought now. She remembered her unholy alliance with Ben Croftner, and how they had arranged for Sarah Campbell to be handed over to the Sioux. How she had investigated Emmie’s background and threatened to tell Isaac all about how she hadn’t really been married to her first husband. She had done a lot of bad, even evil, things in her life. She wasn’t proud of them, and she didn’t really know why she had done them. At the time, it had just seemed important to win. Saving face and getting what she wanted had once been the most important things to her.
She wasn’t even sure how or when the change in her had begun. Papa’s death had probably been the beginning. Seeing the goodness in Emmie and Sarah back at Fort Phil Kearney had made her yearn to be better herself, even though she had hated to admit it. But the main relationship that had changed her was her friendship with Ellen and Franny. Ellen had been so good, so caring. Jessica wished she could be like her, but no amount of good intentions would bring about such a miraculous transformation. But she would try to be a better person. She would care for Franny, and perhaps somehow atone for Ellen’s death.
She gave a heavy sigh. Life was so complicated, so hard. Where was her relationship with Clay going? That kiss was another thing that had changed her. But apparently it had meant nothing to Clay; he showed no sign that the moment had even touched him. She squeezed her eyes shut, then got to her feet and slowly went back home.
§
The next morning the leaden sky looked as heavy as Jessica’s heart felt. She curled Franny’s hair and dressed her in her best dress. The little girl’s face was peaked and woeful, and Jessica’s heart broke for this small child who had to face such sorrow. She clung to Jessica’s hand, and they made their way to the officers’ rec room where the funeral would be held.
The small room was packed with enlisted men. None of the officers’ wives had come, though, except Jessica’s mother, and Jessica felt a sharp stab of anger that they would continue with their snobbery in the face of this tragedy. Her cousins and uncle’s presence gave her a warm glow of gratitude, though. Maybe this was what family was all about: sticking by one another in times of tragedy and heartache.
The funeral was brief. Jessica tried not to watch Clay, but his grief was evident. He almost broke down several times during the service. Franny cried the entire time. After the service, Jessica took Franny back to the house and tucked her into bed for a nap. Clay had said he would be over after the other funerals. There would be just one mass funeral for the men who had died of cholera, so he shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.
She found it hard to wait. She wanted to keep Franny so badly, but what if Clay said no? Restlessly, she followed her mother into the kitchen. “Did you talk to Uncle Samuel about Franny?” She had a feeling she already knew what he had said. Her mother had been uncharacteristically quiet since they got back from the funeral.
Her mother bit her lip. “I’m sorry, darling, but there just isn’t room to keep Franny permanently. Of course, she can stay until Reverend Cole can make arrangements for her.”
Jessica blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. She had to make them see how important this was to her. But before she could marshal her arguments, someone knocked on the front door. Her heart pounding, she raced to the front door and flung it open.
“Jessica.” Clay took off his hat. His eyes were grave and shadowed with grief. He followed her into the parlor. “Where’s Franny?”
“Napping. She was exhausted from crying.” She showed him to a seat and went to fetch them both a cup of coffee.
“I’ll let you discuss Franny’s situation with Reverend Cole alone,” her mother whispered. “I need to make a call on Mrs. McNeil. She’s feeling a bit poorly. I’ll be back in about an hour.” She took her bonnet and left to make her call.
Jessica took the coffee and slowly walked back to the parlor. She felt a sense of futility and trepidation. Clay wasn’t going to let her keep Franny. She tried to tell herself she was jumping to conclusions, but somehow, she just knew. She handed Clay a cup of coffee, then sat down in the chair facing him.
Clay took a gulp of coffee and stared down into it morosely. “I wish Ellen had some family I could notify about her death, but her parents are both dead and I have no idea where her brother is.” He took another gulp of coffee and finally raised his gaze to her face. “I’ve prayed about your request to keep Franny,” he said after a long moment of staring into her eyes. He set his cup down on the table beside him and stood. “I have a lot of reservations about it.” He paced from the fireplace to the sofa and back again.
“Why? Surely you can see that a little girl needs a woman around.” Perhaps he hadn’t decided against her plans after all. He
r heart began to pound in hope.
Clay nodded. “I know you love her, Red, but love isn’t everything.” He took a deep breath. “She also needs a Christian upbringing, to be taught solid spiritual values, to be introduced to Jesus when she’s ready. Franny needs to know that if she wants to see her mother again, only Jesus can do that for her. Can you teach her those things?”
Jessica tried to speak, but what could she say? She swallowed hard.
He gave a slight smile. “I know you don’t have much use for God, and that’s a very important issue. I don’t want Franny to grow up thinking God doesn’t matter.” He stared at his hands a moment and raked his fingers through his hair. “Another thing is the matter of her support. If you keep her, your stepfather would be the one providing her support. I could help, but he would have the ultimate responsibility. She’d be a charity case, and I really don’t want that for her. So I’ve come up with a plan that might solve all of our problems, but I don’t think you’ll agree. I’m not sure you could even do it.” His tone was ominous.
Jessica jumped to her feet. “I can do anything if it means I can keep Franny with me!”
Clay gave a wry grin. “I don’t think so, Red. The only way I can agree to let Franny stay with you is if you provide her support yourself by taking over Ellen’s job as post laundress. We would have family devotions when I’m here, and when I’m not here, you’ll teach her about God yourself with some lessons I’ll leave for you.”
Jessica gaped at him. “Me? Post laundress?” Her voice rose and ended in a squeak. It was ludicrous! How could he even ask her to do such a thing? “You must be mad!” The strength left her legs, and she sank back into the chair.
“I didn’t think you’d agree, but those are my terms. It’s the only way I’ll agree to let you raise Franny.”
His tone was inflexible, and Jessica knew he wouldn’t budge from his position. But it was ridiculous! Even if she agreed, which she wouldn’t, she didn’t even know how to do laundry!
“If she stayed here, she would just be another burden on your mother. If you want her, you have to be the one who does the work. This is a job you can’t pass off on someone else.”
Suddenly furious, Jessica leaped to her feet and pointed her finger at him. “Now I understand! This is just your way of pointing out how worthless you think I am! You had no intention of letting me keep Franny, did you? You just wanted to humiliate me!” Tears choked her, and she was so angry, she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I’m sorry you see it that way,” Clay said mildly. “But those are my terms.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Well, I won’t do it! And I still intend to keep Franny!” Just let him try to take her.
Clay shrugged. “I’m sorry, Red. I’ll take Franny now.”
“You will not! She’s sleeping.”
But she wasn’t. Her blond head peeked around the corner, and then she ran to Clay. Her face was screwed with grief as he gathered her against his chest. “Hey, muffin. You ready to go home with me?”
She gave a sob and nodded. “I want Molly.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
“When I left her she was lying on the bed waiting for you to come play with her.” He turned around and started for the door.
There was nothing Jessica could do, short of dragging Franny from him bodily. She watched helplessly as he gave her one last penetrating glance before he carried Franny out the door. She stared after him in disbelief, then burst into tears.
She hated to cry. It made her feel weak and out of control, but she couldn’t seem to help herself lately. She suddenly hated Clay with a fierce passion. How dare he sit in judgment on her? This was all because she was beautiful, and he didn’t trust beautiful women. She would be a good mother to Franny. Why couldn’t he see that?
She refused supper and stayed in her room when the family came home. Lying on the bed, she stared at the crack in the ceiling above the bed, and she was still wide awake when her cousins came to bed later. She pretended to be sleeping, though, because she didn’t want to hear Miriam’s smug comments about Clay refusing to let her raise Franny.
When morning came, she hadn’t slept at all. She heard the six o’clock call for reveille and slipped out of bed. She would do it. There was simply no other way. Clay wasn’t about to change his mind, but she would show him what kind of backbone she had. She quietly dressed and slipped out of the house to find him. She thought he would be at Ellen’s cabin, and the light shining through the window proved she was right.
Clay opened the door almost instantly at her knock. He stared at her for a moment and then gave her a slow smile. “Couldn’t sleep, Red?”
She brushed by him without answering, then turned to face him. “I’ll do it.”
His jaw dropped, but he quickly recovered. “It won’t be easy,” he warned.
“I don’t have any choice.”
“Sure you do.” He frowned and thrust his hands in his pockets. “You can be sensible and go back to your mother’s house and forget all about this nonsense.”
“That’s what you’d hoped I’d do, wasn’t it? You thought I’d never agree to your little test, and you could just do as you pleased with Franny.” She poked a finger in his chest. “But I can take anything you throw my way, Clay Cole. I’ll prove to you that I can do whatever it takes to provide a home for Franny.” She shoved past him and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Now get out of my house and leave me in peace.”
Clay stared at her, consternation written across his face. He closed his mouth, picked up his hat, and turned to the door. “Franny didn’t get much sleep last night, so you might let her sleep in this morning. I’ll notify Colonel Edwards that you will be accepting the position. There’s plenty of laundry waiting to be done, so you’d better get to work.” He clapped his hat on his head and shut the door behind him.
Jessica stared at the closed door, then around her at the tiny cabin and the duffel bags full of dirty laundry heaped in the corner. What had she done?
seven
The strong smell of lye and soap hung like a moist veil in the heavy air. Jessica blinked against the sting of the fumes and tried to encourage the fire by poking at it with a stick. It responded momentarily with a flare of flame, then settled down to a dull glow again. How did one go about getting the stupid thing to burn, anyway? She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and sighed as she turned toward the door to check on Franny.
The little girl still slept, and Jessica breathed another sigh, this one of relief. Since Clay had left an hour ago, she’d piled the logs in the stove and fetched bucket after bucket of water. But the fire refused to burn hot enough to dissolve the soap properly, and her determination was fast deserting her. She felt like bursting into tears at the enormity of the task. She had never washed a single article of clothing in her life and really didn’t know the first thing about how to start. She wasn’t even sure she had put the right amount of soap in the water; she had just dumped until she thought it smelled strong enough to clean. She wished she could consult her mother, but Franny was still asleep, and she couldn’t leave her alone.
How had she let Clay manipulate her into this fix? She poked at the fire again. It responded this time by sending out small flames that began to lick eagerly at the piled wood. She gave a smile of triumph and dumped the first gunny sack of clothing out onto the ground. She’d seen Ellen soak the clothing in the big tub, but other times she’d seen her scrubbing things on an old washboard in the smaller tub. Which came first?
While she stood contemplating her chore, Miriam came by with Anne Dials, the young wife of Lieutenant Billy Dials. Both young women stopped and looked at Jessica in amazement.
“What on earth are you doing?” Miriam demanded, leaning against the fence.
“What does it look like?” Jessica pushed the hair out of her eyes again. “I’m the newest laundress for Fort Bridger. I told you yesterday I was going to do this.”
Miriam’s mo
uth opened like a fish, but no sound came out. “I didn’t believe you were serious!” she gasped finally.
Jessica looked at her with irritation. “Does it look like I’m joking?”
Anne giggled behind her hand, and Miriam reddened. “Wait until your mother and my father hear about this,” she announced with a toss of her head. “You can’t do this. It’s embarrassing!” She whirled and stalked away. Anne followed with a last pitying glance toward Jessica.
“Tell Mama I need to see her!” Jessica shouted after them. The contempt in Anne’s eyes had stung. Jessica had been too defiant and angry with Clay earlier to remember how lowly a laundress was in the eyes of the women here. Angry heat rose in her face. She didn’t care what someone like Anne Dials thought about her.
The water was bath-warm when her mother came hurrying across the parade ground. “Miriam told me what was going on over here,” she gasped. “You can’t do this, Jessica. It’s much too hard for you. You’ve never even washed a single article of clothing!”
“I’ll learn.” Jessica stirred the soap and explained the deal she had struck with Clay. Her mother was silent throughout her narrative, but Jessica thought a hint of a smile might have come and gone on her mother’s face. What was there to smile about? There was nothing remotely funny about this situation. She scowled at her mother and turned abruptly toward the pile of laundry.
“Can you explain how I’m supposed to do this wash?” She kicked at a pair of dungarees at her feet. They were heavily stained with grass and mud. How was she supposed to get those stains out?
Letty fluttered her hands. “Oh, dear. Let me see what to tell you first. Put the clothes in the pot to soak some of the soil loose. Then you agitate them with this.” She pointed to a paddle against the wall. “Other stains have to be scrubbed on the washboard.” She stayed for about an hour and showed Jessica what to do.
The Heart Answers (Wyoming Series Book 3) Page 8