Until Tomorrow

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Until Tomorrow Page 23

by Rosanne Bittner


  Addy smiled. “Who wouldn’t?”

  Grant laughed lightly, sure he was impressing this woman with his wealth and knowledge. Addy Kane was beautiful and young, and he wanted her. Once she saw real gold, realized what a catch he was, surely she would give consideration to his attention, in spite of the fact that he was so much older than she. He’d had plenty of affairs back in Chicago, both before and after his wife died, with women who were impressed with his wealth and status. Surely Addy Kane was no different. Marriage was something he wasn’t sure he ever wanted again. He liked women too much. But Addy didn’t need to know that, and here in Central there was a scarcity of women, especially young, pretty, available ones like Addy. Perhaps, if he saw her enough, led her to believe there was a future with him, he could at least get this one into his bed and not have to sneak around to get satisfaction from the whores in town. Besides, if women like Ethel Brown had their way, Central would be rid of its prostitutes. Then what would he do? If things went well with Addy Kane, maybe he’d have to marry her, just to have a woman in his bed at night. That wasn’t such a bad prospect. She had a lot of good years in her yet. She would certainly make a beautiful and proper wife for a man like himself.

  Seventeen

  Addy watched the smiles and smiled in return, but she could feel a definite chill in Jessica Sage’s parlor, where the wealthy women of Central gathered for their “circle” meeting. She had met most of them two nights ago at her reception, the wives of the male schoolteachers, the wives of Central’s most prominent businessmen; and she was introduced to a few additional women new to her acquaintance. She met Esther Jonesboro, wife of Dr. Creighton Jonesboro, one of only two doctors in town. The other was Doctor Jonathan Brooks, and his wife, Roslyn, was also at the meeting. Elizabeth Howley, a recently-widowed seamstress with her own business in town, was also present; and there was Marianne Conrad, wife of Clarance Conrad, who owned several businesses, including a men’s clothing store.

  Many of these women had school-age children, whom Addy would be teaching. She wanted to believe that was the reason these women were scrutinizing her so closely today, but she could not help wondering if there wasn’t more to it than that. Some of them seemed to be literally studying her, and it felt as if she was answering the same questions over and over about where she was from and why she had come to Central.

  “And there has been no man in your life since you were widowed?” Ethel Brown asked. The question came with a teasing smile, but Addy saw the hint of warning behind the woman’s puffy eyes. She already knew Ethel did not like her one whit, remembered the remark she had made to her husband the night of the reception. She could just see all these women fainting dead away if she told them the truth about Cole.

  “No,” she answered. “I was too busy helping my mother try to keep the family business going. When it folded, I worked two different jobs just to make ends meet. When I learned of my father’s death, and then later after my mother died, I just didn’t have the heart to take an interest in anything but figuring out how to go on.”

  She noticed looks of true sympathy on some of their faces, and several looked at Ethel with frowns of scorn, as though they were upset with something she might have said earlier. Had the woman been saying things about her behind her back? Why did there have to be people like Ethel Brown, nosey biddies who enjoyed tearing other people down?

  Jane Rhodes, a waif of a woman with ash blond hair and blue eyes that seemed too big for her bony face, set a cup of tea on a table beside her. “Well, if you haven’t been around men much these past years, won’t it be difficult to have to teach alongside six men? I’m sure they’ll be watching everything you do. Wouldn’t it be easier to do something truly feminine, like being a housekeeper, maybe working for Beth in her seamstress work?”

  Addy knew the woman’s husband was completely against a woman teaching. She suspected he had given his wife instructions to try to discourage her. She looked around at the sea of faces, some pleasant, some not so pleasant; thin, heavy, gray-haired, many younger … all watching her carefully, gauging her every word.

  “Being female doesn’t mean I can’t do what I want as far as an occupation,” she answered. “It will be very gratifying to teach. It is something I always wanted to do. I am not concerned with what the other teachers think. I can only do my best, and I assure you, I am very capable. The very fact that I have no one to be concerned about but myself is beneficial. I can devote all my time and attention to your children.”

  They seemed pleased with her answer. Hester gave her a re-assuring smile, but many of them kept looking back at Ethel Brown, as though they needed her permission to be friendly. Something was definitely amiss, and Addy resented not being asked about whatever it was directly, not being allowed to defend herself because she had no idea what it was that bothered them.

  “It does seem strange that a woman so young and lovely as yourself has had no suitors and no male attention in all these years,” Ethel said, again trying to dig something out of her about men.

  Addy met her eyes squarely. “I have had invitations. I simply did not accept them. I would much rather talk about your fine city, Mrs. Brown.”

  “Yes, let’s get to the real reason for this meeting besides meeting our new school teacher,” Hester spoke up, glad for the chance to change the subject for Addy’s sake. She rose, looking around at everyone, an array of elegant day dresses, hats and gloves. “We have discussed this many times, and the Register has written articles calling for the banishment of prostitution. We have even discussed parading in front of Sassy Dillon’s Hard Luck Saloon.” She rolled her eyes and put her fingers to her lips. “Do I dare even speak the woman’s name in Jessica’s parlor?”

  Several women snickered, but in spite of Addy’s own dislike of Sassy Dillon’s loud mouth and her occupation, she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her at the moment. After all, she wasn’t hurting these women. Addy didn’t like talking about people behind their backs, and she highly resented the fact that these women had earlier apparently been doing the same thing with her. Ethel Brown had been spreading some kind of gossip that had caused them to be cool toward her, apparently wary of her background, especially when it came to men.

  “I think we should picket,” Jessica put in.

  “It could be dangerous,” Jane Rhodes added. “That’s a bad part of town, and the miners who frequent Sassy’s place won’t like us trying to get rid of the women there. They’re bound to put up a fuss, maybe speak some awful profanity, make fun of us, maybe even threaten us.”

  “We had better ask Sam Watson to stand by in case of trouble,” Susan Howard put in.

  “Ha!” Ethel smirked. “We all know the sheriff wants those women there as much as the rest of the men. He’s got no wife, no family, and my husband says he is seen at the Hard Luck often himself when he is not on duty.”

  “There are also prostitutes over at the Wildcat,” Beth Howley spoke up. “And that Hurdy Gurdy across from the Register. Should we picket all three places?”

  “At least the Register would support us,” Hester said.

  “What do you think of our idea?” Ethel asked Addy. “Do you have any objection to trying to rid our town of its painted women?”

  Addy saw the look in the woman’s piercing, dark eyes, as though to hint that perhaps there was something to her own past that resembled women like Sassy Dillon. “Of course not,” she answered. “Prostitutes have long been banished back East. I suppose in a mining town, where there are thousands of homeless, mostly single men, such women are in demand. But their presence can only lead to crime and disease, I suppose, even to the corruption of the younger men whose youthful curiosity can lead them down the wrong path.” She paused, then added, “I had the misfortune of riding here from Denver in a stagecoach I had to share with Miss Dillon.”

  Several of them gasped.

  “You rode all the way up Clear Creek Canyon in the same coach with her
?” Ethel exclaimed.

  “I had no choice. She was simply one of the other passengers, and I didn’t know her name or occupation. All I am saying is that she was vulgar and rude; but at the same time, since she is apparently a businesswoman in this town, perhaps we should talk to her privately first, ask her if she would be willing to leave without public embarrassment, or if she would consider just eliminating prostitution. Surely she could keep her saloon open just for drinks and such. I doubt that in a mining town it is reasonable to think we could eliminate saloons all together.”

  There came a few snickers, but Ethel Brown remained sober, still studying Addy intently. “Do you condone liquor, Mrs. Kane?”

  Addy thought about Cole, the way he had of burying his own troubles in drink. “No. I am only saying that in a town full of drifters and hard-rock miners, saloons are a necessary evil, or a lot of the men needed for working the mines will leave. I am sure most of your husbands imbibe now and then. Men seem to think such things are important.”

  “Of course,” Hester answered. “It’s too bad. I know it would be impossible to eliminate saloons all together, but at least drinking and gambling do not spread diseases. And by staying away from saloons ourselves, we can avoid those vices. The trouble with the prostitutes is that we cannot always avoid them. They roam about town, are allowed to shop where we shop, eat in public restaurants. We are often forced to have to stand or sit next to one, and it is very disturbing. The fact that you, Addy, had to ride up here in the same coach with Sassy Dillon is an example.” She looked at the other women. “The Register will support us if we march.”

  “Then I say let’s do it,” Jane Rhodes said. “Some of those crib girls have been caught stealing, which only shows that crime comes with their sinful lifestyle. It is abhorrent that Madame West’s crib house is blatantly set up on Eureka Street, where all kinds of shops and businesses also are located, as though her own place was a legitimate place of business. Just a few weeks ago we read about two dance hall girls who got in a fight over some miner, right out in a public street, tumbling and scratching and screaming! Can you imagine?”

  They all clucked and groaned and shook their heads. “Perhaps our public outcry will get rid of at least some of them,” Ethel spoke up. “It’s a start. I don’t feel Sassy Dillon or any of the others deserve any private talks or warnings. The best way to get rid of them is to make them a public spectacle.”

  “Yes, something must be done,” Marianne Conrad added. “We all know that crime is on the increase. Now that the mines are better established with reputable owners like Grant Breckenridge and Mr. H. M. Teller, there is no necessity for the riff-raff who first came here to look for gold. The miners now are mostly men just here for jobs, some with families. It is time to weed out the scoundrels and blacklegs who come to Central City simply to prowl about robbing houses and stores and threatening decent women. We have no doubt that some men come here simply to flee the law someplace else.”

  Addy’s heartbeat quickened at the remark. Cole was one of those men.

  “Outlaws and homeless men find refuge in the brothels,” the woman continued. “If we rid ourselves of the whorehouses and dance halls, and make a law against prostitution in the saloons, we will at the same time rid ourselves of thieves and the like.”

  “Saturday then,” Jessica Sage told them, “early afternoon, when there are more miners in town after the shift changes. They should know that just because they’re here to work in our mines, they cannot run this town to the point of shoving prostitutes in our faces!”

  “All right. Saturday it is,” Hester said. “That gives us three days to prepare some signs. You will join us, won’t you, Addy?”

  Again Addy felt the pressure of having to abide by the whims of these women. “Of course,” she answered not really sure if it was her right to try to chase someone out of a town where she didn’t even feel at home yet herself.

  The room was filled then with excited talk among all the women, discussions of what to wear and what their signs should read. Ethel Brown rose and walked over to sit down beside Addy on a love seat, smiling with victory at the club’s decision to march. She turned to Addy, scanning her quickly with her dark eyes, as though to decide whether or not she was properly dressed. Addy suspected the woman was also trying to find a flaw, something she could use to say against her to others, perhaps that her dress was worn and of poor quality, which it most certainly was not; perhaps it was too fitted and showed her curves a bit too brazenly, which it did not; or maybe she could find some other flaw.

  “Tell me, dear, how was your outing with Grant Breckenridge yesterday?”

  Addy folded her hands in her lap. “It was quite nice. I’ve never seen a real gold mine before. I learned things I never knew.”

  “And Grant was a gentleman, I presume?”

  Addy thought it an odd question. “Of course.”

  Ethel nodded. “I supposed he would be. All of us would like to see the man find another wife and not be so alone. We could see at the meeting night before last that he was quite taken with you. Will you see more of him?”

  It’s none of your business, Addy wanted to respond. Once she was better established here, she would find it easier to tell people like Ethel Brown exactly what she thought of their nosey attitudes. “I’m not sure,” she answered. “I accepted an invitation to dine with him tonight, but it is nothing serious. I am more concerned right now with my teaching position. I have no romantic interest in any man, nor do I care to have one.” What was that look in Ethel’s eyes? It was as though the woman could see right through her.

  “Well, perhaps Grant will change your mind,” Ethel told her. “He is, after all, quite a catch for a woman alone. You don’t know anyone else in this town?”

  Addy felt her cheeks growing a little hotter. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “On, I just felt sorry for you being so alone, that’s all,” Ethel answered.

  Addy did not believe her. “Thank you for your concern,” she said. “I believe I’ll get myself another sandwich.” She rose and walked to a table where the refreshments had been laid out.

  Ethel watched her, lips pursed. Why would you lie about not knowing anyone else in town, Mrs. Addy Kane? she wondered, unless it’s someone who could tell us a few things about you that would cause you to lose your job? She would get to the bottom of this, one way or another. Already a letter was on its way to Unionville.

  Grant showed Addy into Sadie’s Diner, a pleasant restaurant that he complained was not nearly as elegant as some of the dining establishments there now were in Denver. “Did you get to see much of Denver when you stayed over there?” he asked, pulling out a chair for her.

  “No, I was much too tired. I just wanted to clean up and rest.” Addy sat down to a table spread with a white cloth and surprisingly fine china and silverware for such a rugged town.

  “Well, maybe some day I can take you back there and really show you the sights. I have some businesses there also now, but I like it up here—high, exciting, still rather uncivilized. It gives a man a challenge, but I don’t suppose women enjoy such challenges.”

  Addy removed her gloves as he walked around the table to sit across from her. “I don’t mind. Actually, having a school is just one way to help civilize a town. If I can be a part of that, then I will be doing my share to help.”

  A waitress in a white apron approached them, offering coffee or tea. Addy ordered tea, Grant coffee, as well as water. The waitress left printed menus.

  “I’m surprised you ordered water, too,” Addy told Grant. “I have learned that up here, water, coffee and tea, can all be quite expensive.”

  Grant smiled. “Nothing is too much for you, and I don’t exactly need to worry about money. The reason it’s so expensive is that all our drinking water has to be hauled up here from Denver. Clear Creek is too polluted from sewage and from the runoff from mining operations. Its name doesn’t exactly suit the conditi
on of the water. Of course, where you and I come from, no one worries about having water. Everything is different out here, so dry and barren.”

  “I am amazed at the determination and perseverance of men bent on getting rich, putting up with so many inconveniences,” Addy told him.

  Grant laughed lightly. “Like I said, some men enjoy the challenge.” He studied Addy appreciatively, already having trouble sleeping at night for the want of her. She looked lovely this evening in a pale orchid dress with a matching cape and a small, feathered hat. He had enjoyed showing her around town. “Is it true some of the women are going to picket the Hard Luck saloon and some of the other hurdy-gurdy establishments?” Secretly he hoped it wasn’t. He’d had some good times with some of those girls, whom he paid well to keep their mouths shut.

  Addy felt embarrassed. “I’m afraid it is. I will be participating myself. I didn’t have much choice in the matter, but I don’t feel it’s quite right, considering I am such a new citizen of the town myself.”

  “It’s hard to say no to women like Hester Collingswood and Ethel Brown, isn’t it?” Grant said with a grin. “It certainly is.”

  “Well, you had all better be prepared for some pretty crude remarks from those women, and from some of the miners who don’t want to see them go. You’d better have the sheriff handy.”

  “We intend to.” Addy scanned the menu, still unable to feel comfortable with Grant in spite of his gentlemanly manner.

  “I recommend the steak,” he told her. “They have wonderful steaks here. They get them from—” He stopped short and looked past her toward the doorway. “Well, I believe I’ve just found the man I’ve been looking for.”

  Addy’s back was to the door. She turned to see who he was talking about, and a man wearing a badge stood at the door with another man whose tall frame and the six-gun he wore on his hip made heads turn. Addy could feel the blood draining from her face. It was Cole Parker.

 

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