Birdie's Nest

by Linda LaRoque

  He blushed scarlet. Oops, maybe she’d over pushed her point. “Ladies do not discuss nakedness.”

  She wanted to weep. “Well, I’m not a lady. In my time women wear bathing suits that show more skin than a danged corset.” She waved her hand. “Why, dresses come up to here.” She drew a line across her thigh.”

  His mouth hung open, then snapped shut. Voice low, like someone could hear them over the clomping of the horse, he muttered, “Are you saying you’re a loose woman, Birdie?”

  “No!” He’d never understand no matter how much she explained. “I’m saying, in the future, things are different. Women wear a lot less clothes. For that matter, so do men. If we were on a picnic in the future, you’d be wearing pants cut off above the knee and a cotton knit shirt with no sleeves.”

  He shook his head. “The things you say are too outlandish to believe.”

  “I know, but they’re true.”

  They pulled up in front of the Pacific Hotel and an attendant hurried out to take the reins. Tad jumped down and rounded the carriage to help her alight. Inside, ceiling fans stirred the air. The soft breeze cooled Birdie’s heated skin. Guests coming and going eyed her with curiosity. Tad took her arm and hustled her into the elevator. This hotel boasted the first electric elevator in Waco, but many people weren’t comfortable riding in it and opted for the stairs.

  The elevator operator greeted them as they entered the cage. Tad nodded to the man and gave him their floor number, but his expression was stony when he turned it on her. His nose was swelling and beginning to bruise. Birdie took his hand, squeezed and whispered, “Tad, I'm so sorry. I acted on impulse, but I'm not in the habit of being bossed by anyone except the captain.” She reached up to touch his nose.

  He jerked his head back and muttered, “Don't touch me. It's sore.” He slipped an arm around her waist hugged her close. “Forget about it, Birdie. Just don't do it again.”

  Her temper flared. “Well, don't try to boss me around and I won't.”

  “Birdie—”

  She snapped her mouth shut just as the elevator stopped.

  When they stepped out, Tad stopped a maid in the hall. “Please prepare a bath for Miss Braxton.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  She removed her key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Tad waited until she was inside before striding down the corridor to his room. A few minutes later, Birdie opened the door for the maid. She strode in with a long white robe, toiletries, and several towels. “I’m Sophie, miss. I have your bath drawn. If you’ll come with me, we’ll get you out of this dress and I’ll get it laundered for you.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Birdie glanced down at the stains. “I hope the blood will come out.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem.” Birdie followed the maid down the hallway. She laid the towels and bath items on a table then helped Birdie with the buttons down the back of her dress. Birdie slipped into the robe. “Leave the towels in the bathroom and I’ll get them later. Pull the bell if you need anything and don’t forget to lock the door.”

  “Thank you, Sophie.”

  Thirty minutes later, Birdie sat by the open window brushing her hair. With long strokes, she pulled the strands up and away from her scalp. She dropped her head forward and brushed the curly tresses until they hung over her eyes, then flipped them back. When it settled around her shoulders, she ran her fingers through the long strands giving it as much lift as she could. She wanted it to have some curl, but not too much. Why she worried about her looks, she didn’t have a clue. According to Tad, her reputation was ruined.

  A knock sounded on the door. Birdie rose and opened it. Olivia stood outside, her mouth pinched in a thin line, holding Birdie’s hat and parasol. “May I come in, dear?”

  “Of course.” Dressed in what Birdie assumed was a day dress, Olivia stepped inside and lay the bonnet and umbrella on the bed. Then she moved to sit on the rocker beside the window.

  “Where’d you find my things?”

  “Detective Ethan had them delivered. I guess he assumed you were sharing a room with Bethany and me. If larger accommodations had been available, it would have been nice for all three of us to be together.”

  Birdie wasn’t disappointed at all. She enjoyed Bethany but after a while the young girl’s chatter got on her nerves.

  Olivia patted the cushioned chair sitting adjacent to hers. “Come, sit. We need to talk.”

  Uh-oh. Here it comes. Birdie might spar with Tad, and any other individual who challenged her, her beliefs and behavior, but she didn’t have the heart to disappoint Olivia. The woman had been kind to Birdie, inviting her into her home, and was doing her best to help Birdie fit in with society. Whether she believed Birdie was from another era was hard to tell, but she had been patient with her.

  With a sigh, Birdie sat. “I’m sorry for my behavior today. It’s just so hard for me to give up what I’m used to.”

  “I understand. Believe it or not, I was young once, too, and fought against the restrictions of society.” She shrugged. “Of course, then I married and had children to think about. Though I might want to resist on occasion, I know I can’t because others depend on me to be a good example and I wouldn’t want my behavior to reflect unfavorably on either Tad or Bethany.” She snorted. “Not that Tad is concerned about how his conduct reflects on us. I about died when that widow woman approached Tad after the race today… in broad daylight. It’s bad enough that he visits her at night on occasion.”

  “I take it you don’t approve of the woman.”

  “Hardly! I know men have needs, but…” She threw up her hands. “Forgive me. This discussion is inappropriate for your ears.” Pushing on the floor with her toes, she set the chair in motion and rocked for a moment. If Olivia knew what all Birdie’s ears had heard and her eyes had seen in her years in police work, the older woman would have a heart attack on the spot. “Birdie, the manner in which you behaved today, and the way Tad responded, gave people the impression you’re a couple.”

  “What? Why would they think that?”

  “Because he picked you up in his arms and then you hit him. It appeared to be a lover’s spat.”

  Birdie sputtered. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “May be, but that’s how it is.” Olivia reached over and patted her knee. “Now, just be sure you don’t give people more to gossip about tonight. They’ll have you engaged and marching down the aisle before breakfast. Not that Tad is a man to be pushed into doing anything he doesn’t want to do, but he likes you and would want to preserve your name and standing in the community.”

  “That will never happen. No one will push me in to getting married.” And she’d in no way allow a man to marry her to save her reputation. It would be for love or not at all. Not that she didn’t think Tad a handsome man, because she did. When she got married, it’d be to a man who considered her his equal, one who didn’t boss her around. She snorted. Tad was as bossy as they come.

  “I know you’re a good girl and adapting to our ways must be hard. But, you must if you want to be happy here.”

  “I’ll try.”

  * * *

  Tad found his gaze returning to Birdie. She was lovely in the mauve dress she’d worn when he fished her from the Brazos. Her hair was lifted on the sides and held up with combs, which allowed curled tendrils to fall down in soft waves. Candlelight caught on the varying colors of her tresses, emphasizing the blue of her eyes.

  Bethany caught him staring and grinned. She looked from one to the other and back at him. “How come—”

  Guessing the direction of his sister's thoughts, he interrupted. “Birdie, your hair is an unusual color. Did you inherit it from someone in your family?”

  “Yeah,” added Bethany, “I’ve been curious too.”

  “Actually, if I tell you, you’ll think I’m terribly wicked so maybe I better keep it a secret.”

  Bethany’s eyes rounded. His mother’s stare of horror spoke volumes, but she was speechless.
>
  Tad couldn’t believe what she’d implied. “Are you saying your hair color is not natural? That you dye it?”

  “Yes.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “It’s common in the future for women to dye their hair, to get perms—a treatment originally called ‘permanent waves’ to make it curly. Some wear it very short, as short if not shorten than some men.”

  His mother gasped. “Why would they do that? A woman’s hair is her crowning glory.”

  Tad had to agree. He loved running his figures through a woman’s hair. His mind had wandered to Birdie’s often enough and had wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Dyed...? He couldn’t believe it.

  “Yes, I know that’s what this generation believes, but many things have changed.” She pulled a strand of her hair out and examined it closely. “My natural color is a medium blonde. Every four or five months my hairstylist adds what are called high lights and low lights—high are a lighter color and low are a darker color. They give my hair more texture.”

  “I like it, Birdie,” said Bethany. “Maybe when I get older I can color my hair.”

  “You’ll do no such thing, young lady.”

  Tad could see Birdie enjoyed shocking them. Heck, he didn’t know what to think. Was she a harlot? No, she wasn’t. He knew some women colored their hair in the privacy of their own homes and would be horrified if anyone found out. It was something he could see Lucy doing and flaunting. But, Birdie acted as though it was an everyday occurrence, that it wasn’t unusual. He peered at her hair closely. It was very pretty, natural looking. Had Birdie really traveled back from a future era? He liked that theory better than putting her in the same category as Lucy. No, they were not the same.

  Grin mischievous, Birdie put her arm around Bethany and squeezed. “Maybe we can talk your mother into letting you get an earring in your nose.”

  Tad couldn’t tell who squealed louder—his mother or Bethany. Bethany slapped a hand over her nose and giggled. Birdie laughed out loud and Tad added a guffaw.

  “Stop it now! We’re causing a scene.” Mother’s voice demanded obedience but her lips twitched in rebellion. Sure enough, others in the dining room were staring. She leaned forward, closer to Birdie. “You are teasing us, right?”

  “Unfortunately, no. It’s horrifying to see what some of the younger generation do to their bodies. Piercing their tongues, their belly buttons, and… other areas.”

  What other areas could she be talking about? He could only think of a few body parts that protruded far enough… no, surely not. His gaze whipped to her.

  She smirked. “Of course not.”

  He blew out a breath. How could someone do that to their body? Better yet, why?

  Mother shook her head. “I am flummoxed and can’t imagine such a custom. They actually use earrings?”

  “Yes. Mostly studs.” She held up her fingers about an inch or less apart. “You know … a little post with diamonds, or silver balls.”

  “Dear, I’ve thought hard the last few days about some of the things you’ve told us… and… I have to admit, they sound crazy.” She reached across the table and clasped Birdie’s hand. “But I know you’re not crazy. I just don’t know what to believe.”

  “I know the things I’ve told you are hard to picture in your minds, to deem true. If our situations were reversed, I’d feel the same as you.” She pushed food around on her plate with her fork, than laid it down. The utensil clanked against the china. “So much has happened in the last past one-hundred-twenty or so years. Olivia, if you’re worried about my hair color being noticed by others, I can go up and put it in a bun and cover it with something.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. If anyone asks, we’ll just say something in the river turned it different colors and you’re waiting for it to grow off.”

  Tad snorted. “Then we’ll have all the young misses in the area jumping in the Brazos to create the same effect.”

  His mother shot him a chilling glare.

  He swallowed his laugh. “You think they’ll believe that story?”

  Mother sat up straighter in her chair. “Doesn’t matter whether they do or not. I believe it and they’ll not question my word.” She shook a finger at Birdie. “And you, young woman will leave that beautiful hair alone. I may not understand everything about you and what’s at work here—you being with us and all—but I know you’re a good person, and I’ll not have anyone treating you otherwise.”

  When Mother spoke, her word wasn’t disputed. Usually. He hoped Birdie wouldn’t be breaking with tradition.

  Chapter Nine

  Birdie had never seen the Brazos lit so beautifully. Lights strung around the bandstand and along the bridge glowed dimly, their reflection bouncing off the rippling surface of the river. Surely those weren’t candles—maybe tiny lanterns. She leaned forward to see more closely. “Are those electric lights?”

  “Yes. Aren’t they lovely?” Olivia beamed with pride. “Soon they’ll have the entire bridge lit up on special occasions.”

  Wow. Who knew they had electric lights in 1890? It’d be easier to imagine if she was in New York, but this was Texas. Birdie knew the hotel had the electric elevator and some electric light, but never dreamed they’d use them for decorations. Maybe they had Christmas tree lights now too. Obviously, her early Waco history was lacking.

  The strains of a waltz wafted toward them on the breeze. Tad pulled the buggy into line behind several others. He jumped out and helped them down before turning the vehicle over to an attendant. Birdie resisted a giggle—just like valet parking in the future.

  Olivia and Bethany lifted their skirts, and shook them, smoothing out wrinkles. Birdie glanced down at her own frock and decided she better do the same. Would she ever get used to all the frou-frou?

  The older woman announced, “Tad, you escort Birdie. Bethany will walk with me.”

  Tad winked, eliciting a grin from her. The scoundrel. Did he know how handsome he was? Of course he did. He took her hand and tucked it around his forearm. “Do you like to dance?”

  “I love to dance.” She lifted the hem of her dress to keep from tripping as they walked down the slope towards the crowd. “It’s such a surprise to see the electric lights. I didn’t know electricity was widely used in this period.”

  “It’s not. Having it at the grandstand and across the bridge is an extravagance. As you can imagine, we’re proud of the bridge and the commerce it brings to Waco. The city council felt electricity on this occasion was justified.” He waved toward the dancers. “But as you can see, we still must rely on coal oil.”

  They were close enough now to see that lanterns hung from poles set up around the plank dance floor. “I don’t remember seeing the dance floor earlier.”

  “A group of men gathered late this afternoon and laid the two by fours. Cameron Lumber provided the boards. After the dance, the floor will be disassembled and returned to the yard. Monday morning the used lumber will be sold at cost.”

  “That’s very nice of him.”

  “Sure is. Good advertisement too. Events like this bring town folks closer together.”

  Cohesiveness—that was something, in her opinion, the modern world needed more of. Smaller towns were more community minded. No, that wasn’t fair. Larger towns worked hard to do good works with cancer walks and food pantries to name a few.

  They stopped at the dance floor. Tad clicked his heels and bowed over her hand. “May I have this dance?”

  She smiled and dropped a slight curtsey. Ugh! A curtsey! She was losing her mind for sure. Tad took her in his arms and all humor evaporated. It wasn’t often she danced with a man taller than her, and Tad was. Her head fit perfectly just under his chin. The soft aroma of his spicy cologne or hair pomade invaded her senses; the warm skin of his neck tempted her lips. It would be easy to tilt her head just so and place a kiss under his chin. He was a tempting man and exuded sex appeal. Get a grip, Birdie! A man wasn’t in her future right now, at least not until her go
al was achieved. No need to tempt nature. She eased back a little, but he pulled her closer.

  “Relax.” His breath rustled the hair above her ear and she shivered. “Mm, you smell nice.” He tugged her closer. If she wasn't mistaken he placed a kiss against her hair.

  Her heart thumped in response and she blurted, “You do too.”

  Tad startled and missed a step. Did the muscles in his arm tense? She thought she heard a soft groan but couldn’t tell over the strains of I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen. Her response must have shocked him. Ladies of this time weren't as honest with their thought, but she wasn't about to change to fit in. He was a good dancer, and she relaxed as he led her around the floor, which had been lightly covered with sawdust, so their feet slid easily as they twirled to the haunting ballad.

  The song ended and they stepped apart. The audience clapped for the band, and they added their applause as they walked to the side. “They’re very good.”

  “Yes. Our symphony is getting prestigious in the area. A few members travel to San Antonio on occasion to sit in with the orchestra there.”

  Birdie supposed modern Waco had an orchestra, but her activities ran more toward high school and university athletic activities. Aunt Patty often bemoaned Birdie’s lack of interest in the arts. “I’m impressed. Do you often attend?”

  “Nah, but mother and Bethany do.”

  The music, a lively song she didn’t know, started up, and Tad took her hand. Before they could enter the group of dancers, Detective Ethan stopped in front of them and tipped his hat. “Evening Birdie, Tad. Birdie, may I have this dance?”

  “Of course, Detective.”

  He glanced at Tad as if to ask permission.

  Tad nodded.

  Birdie wanted to blurt she didn’t need anyone’s consent but decided it best to keep her mouth shut.

  “Do you think you could call me by my given name? Detective is rather formal.”

  She chuckled. “I’d be happy to if I knew it.”

  He grinned. “It’s Lloyd.”

  “Well, Lloyd,” She nodded toward the dancers. “I’m not sure I can keep up, but I’ll do my best.” As they joined the couples, Birdie glanced back over her shoulder. Tad moved into the throng of people visiting on the grass. She’d have enjoyed another dance with him.