Suffrage and Suitors

by Noelle, Jo

  From the middle of the marchers, several men walked forward—Marshal KC, Marshal Wheeler, Judge Milton, and Bernard Newell.

  “The law-abiding fellow you seem to be, you don’t want to stop a legal protest,” Marshal Wheeler said as KC Murray held up a piece of paper. “Now, do you?”

  Millie pulled her courage from inside her shoes and stepped beside Edwin. Her arm grazed his for support and comfort. “’Cause I’ll file charges,” she called. Everything inside her shook with fear, and she was amazed that she was able to press the words out.

  “I’ll stand as the prosecutor against you, Grady,” Mr. Newell said. His hips wore guns that glinted silver in the morning light. His coat was tucked behind them out of his way.

  “And I will throw your carcass in jail until I get around to hearing your case, oh, about next spring or so,” Judge Milton added. “What’s it going to be? You want to rot, or do you want this peaceful gathering to continue to the end of the street?”

  Several of the new deputies also flanked the marchers, their badges shining in the sunlight, their hands near their guns as well.

  The men standing with Archie moved their coats out of the way of their guns, their hands at the ready. Millie was sure no one blinked while staring at the opposing line. Millie couldn’t even breathe. She noticed some movement in the crowds at the sides. People seemed to be stepping back, and some left all together. Even if shots weren’t fired, this intimidation might undermine the vote next week.

  Grady’s mouth pinched, but he didn’t move for a long minute.

  A sudden braying broke the morning silence. “Not now, MayBelle,” Marshal KC said.

  Slowly, a small black donkey walked into the road between the two opposing sides. The donkey’s head bobbed as she moved slowly to the middle of the road, and her tail swished at flies. She dropped to her knees and then to the side of her belly, rolling in the street, kicking up dust. Then she stood and shook like a dog. After bellowing and bucking her rear legs in the air, she started moving out of the road. Neither side flinched in the wait, but Millie hoped they’d had time to think.

  Ab Helm whispered something to Archie. Finally he said, “I wasn’t doing anything. Get on with your march. Means nothing to me.” He and his men walked slowly to the side of the street, but Millie noticed that a couple of the deputies didn’t continue with the marchers but stood on the road behind them, watching to make sure Little Archie was long gone.

  “Votes for women!” they yelled.

  When they reached the newly built theater, the marchers crowded closer. Millie stood on a wagon bed before them. Edwin and Mama M finished the tune they were playing. Then a hush fell over the gathered crowd.

  “In a few days, men will cast votes to decide the fate of Colorado’s women,” Millie yelled. “We’ve marched here today to let them know we care about the outcome of that vote. We care about our state and our town and our homes. Will we be heard or not? Ask yourselves if you still hear the wisdom of your mother or grandmother in the back of your mind, guiding your decisions, though her words are echoing from your long ago past. Men, ask yourselves if your sisters or wife have changed your perspective by sharing what they believe. Would you silence those voices? In a few days, you will cast votes to determine our fate. Please, gentlemen, vote for women.”

  Millie looked around as the crowd clapped and hollered their approval. Her chest was near bursting, and her pulse raced. They broke into smaller groups, talking excitedly about the vote and the future. Millie saw Sterling walking toward her around the outside of the crowd. She didn’t want to sort that out just now. She’d do it later tonight or maybe tomorrow, but she knew she had to do it soon. She was sure both men were courting her, and she didn’t want to lead either of them on a merry chase. Both were fine men. Each of them deserved happiness. Their wives would be lucky women.

  Edwin was aways back in the crowd. He’d watched her with sparkling eyes and clapped heartily at her speech.

  This might be the best time to clear things up, after all.

  Callum helped her down from the wagon, and she approached Sterling. “Thank you for coming,” she said.

  “I’m hopeful that your cause will be successful. Congratulations, Millie.”

  It seemed they both had something to say, but neither one spoke. He didn’t stand particularly close to her. He didn’t look into her face as he had before. She suspected they both knew that their relationship had changed. She wasn’t the woman for him. She would always have her causes, and he might like the next one less than he did this one. But her heart and soul wouldn’t let her stop raising her voice for what she saw was right.

  “I appreciate your support and your friendship, Mr. McCormick.” Though she hadn’t meant to, she’d stressed the formal address. She had given him a clear sign where they now stood with each other.

  “As I value your friendship as well, Miss Bing.”

  Finally, they both smiled easily at each other. There were no expectation for either of them, and Millie was truly glad. Her heart had gone to someone else, and the rest of her would follow soon.

  Callum approached, and Millie slid her arm through his. They walked together back to the boarding house. Julianne was standing on the boardwalk outside the doors and waved at their approach.

  “The Fontaines will take you home unless you’d like to wait for me,” Callum said. “Edwin has asked to talk with me.”

  It had been an emotional day. She hoped that their discussion involved her, but she couldn’t stand around idly waiting to see. It might be best not to throw the rest of her heart into turmoil. “I’d like to go with Julianne.” Millie thought that was just what she needed—a little time to talk with another woman. Callum walked into Hearth and Home, and Millie approached Julianne. “Thank you for the ride home today.”

  “You’re welcome. Hugh wants to stay for a while, so it’s just the two of us going to Bachelor. Hugh will ride back with Callum.”

  “That means I’ll get to hold Grace.”

  Julianne passed the baby to her. “She’s all yours.”

  When both of the women were seated in the carriage, Julianne took up the reins and called, “Walk on.”

  As they passed by the bank, Millie noticed Grace’s eyes blinking slowly. The little girl was tired. It had been an early and busy day for her too.

  Julianne said, “You must be happy about today’s march.”

  “Very.” Millie felt relieved to have the rally behind her. She’d had such hopes for it, and she’d done the best she could. Now it was in the hands of the voters and not just the ones in Creede but in all of Colorado. She didn’t have influence anywhere else, but they’d made a good showing in Creede.

  “So many people came,” Julianne said. The evidence was all around them. Horses, wagons, and buggies filled the streets as they left town to drive back up to Bachelor.

  “They did.” Millie hoped it was enough. She wished there was something more that could be done. Maybe there was. Her head turned toward Julianne, but she stopped herself from saying what she was thinking.

  “You’re barely talking at all, Millie. That’s not like you. I’m the one who doesn’t talk much. You chatter. Oh, no. You’re going to start something else, aren’t you?”

  Millie shifted in her seat and pretended to be enthralled by watching the baby sleep, which was precious beyond all. Really, she didn’t want Julianne to look into her eyes and know she was scheming again.

  “You’d might as well tell me now. I’ll find out. In fact, I’ll pull over at Cougar Flat and wait you out.”

  Millie debated whether or not to drag Julianne into yet another scheme. She supposed it was Julianne’s choice. “Fine. I’m going to hand out cookies on Election Day.”

  “Okay.” Julianne didn’t seem worried.

  “Outside the poll.” Millie knew that there might be some who were undecided, and the cookie might tip the scale in her favor.

  “Oh.” Julianne looked back up the road, and Mi
llie waited to see if she would warn her that she’d done enough. It would be a reasonable suggestion. Instead, she said, “I’m with you. I’ll make cookies too.”

  Millie squealed, and Grace wiggled in her arms. She whispered to Julianne, “You won’t regret it.” Julianne looked askance at her, and Millie amended what she’d said, “It will be worth it.”

  The carriage rumbled past Cougar Flat. There was something more on Millie’s mind. “About what you said the other day. About Edwin and Sterling.”

  “Yes?” Julianne drew out the word, her eyebrows raised with anticipation.

  “I’ve made my choice, but I don’t want to imagine things that may not be. The man hasn’t made his feelings known at least not in words. Then again, I don’t want someone to make an offer if that really isn’t what he wants to do.” Millie examined those words in her heart. They felt thin and fragile. Maybe she had been saying them for the last five years and never questioned if she believed them. Maybe it was time to doubt her doubts.

  “Are you going to say who?” Julianne’s voice showed she was obviously very curious.

  “It’s hypothetical at this point.”

  Julianne harrumphed and then laughed. “Well, hypothetically then, I suppose you’d want to be sure before you commit to something that might not be,” Julianne said.

  “Of course.”

  “I suggest you make a list—”

  “I made a list of qualities I want in a husband,” Millie blurted. “He has all of them.”

  Julianne patted Millie’s leg. “I was going to say, I think you should make a list of the qualities you want to have in a few years for yourself. If the relationship is likely to help you become that person, it would be the right thing to do.”

  Millie mulled that over.

  A moment later, Julianne added, “You should know, a man may ask a woman’s protector for her hand, and then he may ask a woman to marry him, but both of those things come after the woman chooses the man and makes it clear to him.”

  The buggy topped the last hill, and Millie could see Julianne’s school off to the side of the road. The Fontaines’ cabin would be coming up soon.

  “No need to take me all the way home. I’ll get off at your place.”

  “It’s really no trouble,” Julianne replied.

  “It isn’t far from your home, and I think I’d like the walk today. I’ve a lot to think on.” How can I make my feelings known to Edwin?

  Edwin

  Edwin woke when the ship listed hard to the side, rolling him off his bunk. It had been raining hard when he’d gone to sleep, and he could still hear thunder. His eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to the darkness.

  A woman sat on Salma’s bed, holding her hand. “I didn’t want her to be alone,” she said.

  Edwin didn’t understand why until he approached. Salma’s hair was wet from fever. Earlier that day, she’d complained of being sick and threw up over the rails. She’d thought it was from the rocking of the ship in high waters.

  “I’ll see if someone will come down to help her.” Edwin turned toward the door, but the woman appeared in front of him. Her golden eyes glowed with compassion, and light emanated around her.

  “I’m sorry, Edwin. Your wife is dying. If there is anything you want to say to her, do it now, and then we’ll go.”

  “Who’s going to go and where?” In a flash of sorrow, Edwin’s heart was given the answer, and the woman confirmed it.

  “It’s her time.”

  The woman’s dress was the deepest blue and gray of night, and though there wasn’t a breeze below decks, her dress shifted and flowed around her. She hovered above the floor and floated near Salma, whose breath was barely a whisper although her mouth gaped open for more.

  Edwin wanted to argue or bargain with the woman, but in his heart, he knew she would only tell the truth that surely would happen.

  “Are you Death?” he asked.

  A kind smile overtook her face. “Yes.” The peace and comfort that radiated from her was at odds with Edwin’s desire to rage.

  He knelt beside Salma’s bed. How could this happen? They’d only married a few weeks ago, but they’d been friends for a lifetime. They were moving to America to make something more of their opportunities. It had been their plan for the past three years. “How can I do this without you? I don’t want to.”

  Salma’s eyes shifted beneath her half-closed lids but opened when he held her hand. “Salma, I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

  Salma’s head nodded as her eyes closed again. He moved her hand to his cheek, and her eyes fluttered open. Edwin leaned over to look into her wandering eyes, and for a moment, they fixed on him. Her lips puckered together, and Edwin lowered his to meet them. His promises to her, the dreams they’d built together, their future family dissolved in that kiss, and he let go of hope. His future shattered.

  Her hand slackened in his, and her body slumped to the mattress. A gasp of air escaped, but another didn’t replace it. Panic exploded in his gut. He looked to see if her chest rose with breath, but he couldn’t see through the tears saturating his view. His heart was shredded, bursting with knives slicing outward.

  The angel placed her hand on his shoulder. “She fulfilled her promise to you. ‘Til death do you part.’ You were the love of her life. She takes that with her.” Again, peace flooded from the angel to him, but it felt as if it was delivered with a blow. It was a gift he didn’t want, shouldn’t need. He sat back on his heels and scrubbed his fists over his eyes.

  Sorrow swamped him, remembering words that were spoken at his mam’s funeral. “For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord: whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's.”

  Edwin gasped, wanting to stop this somehow.

  Death leaned over the bed, slipping her hands beneath Salma’s body.

  “No!” roared within his mind and filled his ears, but his lips couldn’t form the word. His throat couldn’t make a sound. He was incapable of understanding or stopping the Lord’s work. Eternity sat on him, weighing him to that spot.

  Gently, Death lifted Salma’s spirit out of her body and cradled her in her arms. As the angel hovered near the ceiling, she said, “Edwin, you will love again. You still have much to do with your life. Live.”

  “You’re holding my life,” he whispered to his dark room, waking from the dream with sweat on his brow. He sat on the edge of his bed and took several deep breaths. Many times before, he’d relived his wife’s passing. In his grief, he’d forgotten the angel’s message—until tonight.

  His heart pounded against his ribs. Millie was unmarried—that seemed a miracle. A prayer rose unbidden. “Thank you, Lord.” Callum was willing to entertain his pursuit of Millie. It was time to find out if she’d have him. He’d been living a pale version of life. It was time for a change.

  He prepared the bagged meals and sold them before he readied himself for Sunday services. His kilt sat folded in the clothes press. It represented all the things about family that he wanted to preserve and create going forward. He took it out again and began pleating it. He was going to show his change today.

  He arrived at the church in Bachelor and found Callum alone in the chapel. As soon as he entered, he saw Callum look him over as he walked toward Edwin, his eyes lingering on the bagpipes under his arm.

  “Welcome,” Callum said. His arm was full of hymn books.

  “Thank you. I wondered if I could play a song for the service.”

  “I think that would be a pleasure for our little group,” Callum replied. “And after service today, might you be talking with Millie?” He continued placing the hymnals on the benches.

  “I’d like to.”

  Callum shook his head. “Our congregation members tend to stick around. It’s the one day they get for fellowship. It’s not likely you’ll find her alone.”

  Edwin’s other option was to talk with her when she dropped off the treats for his sack lunches
the next morning. That wasn’t conducive to romance, though.

  Callum placed the final book and stopped before Edwin. “Millie makes a pie for Sunday evenings. I think today’s is apple. You’re welcome to come back at six to share it with us.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be there.” Soon he would be relieved of the burden of keeping his love for Millie a secret from her. He hoped she suspected its depth, but he wanted to make it known.

  The door opened behind him. Millie and a family walked in. The surprise on her face changed to delight. Edwin hoped his future was filled with her broad smile. She made her way up the aisle to the front row, only pausing momentarily by Edwin, and he quickly followed to sit beside her. The next minute, Sterling entered. Edwin thought about the last time he’d come, and Sterling McCormick had sat on her other side. Today, he walked straight to them and shook Edwin’s hand.

  He bowed his head in greeting “Good day, Miss Bing.”

  “Hello, Mr. McCormick,” she answered.

  Then to Edwin’s surprise and pleasure, Sterling sat across the aisle and behind them. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and Edwin welcomed another little miracle.

  Although the two of them didn’t touch at all, the air was thick with wanting between them. Edwin wasn’t sure what the sermon was, but he thought he heard Reverend Bing read, “‘With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love.’” That was exactly what Edwin planned to do and to get on with it soon.

  At the end of the meeting and before the last prayer, Callum invited Edwin to play for the congregation. He moved the blowstick to his mouth and inflated the bag as he stood, resting the bass drone on his left shoulder. His fingers lifted and fell instinctively over the holes to play Amazing Grace. He knew the song by heart, freeing his attention to watch Millie’s reaction.

  First, a small smile played across her lips as she recognized the tune. It stretched and broadened, and her head leaned a little to the side. Just as she had at the march, she looked at him, her eyes roving from his plaid socks to the kilt around his waist, to the lips he puckered around the blowstick, and to the Balmoral bonnet he wore. Then her eyes locked on his. If he hadn’t played that song to the point of it being a memory in his muscles, he might have frozen right then, caught in her gaze. He thought he saw enough desire there to match his own.