Electing to Love

by Kianna Alexander

  As soon as Prissy was on solid footing, Angel got hold of her arm. "Prissy, what's the matter with you? Why would you even bring that up?"

  Prissy looked a bit chastised. "There was concern from some of the ladies. I didn't want to make a fuss, I swear."

  "What ladies?"

  Prissy directed her eyes at the ground. "I won't name them, but mainly the older women."

  Angel released her grip on Prissy's arm. "Fine. But I'd appreciate it if you didn't subject me to any more questioning, just to satisfy the nosy biddies among us."

  Prissy gave a half-smile. "I won't. Sorry about that, Angel."

  Angel gave Prissy a playful tap against the forehead. She knew Prissy's heart was in the right place. The librarian much preferred being in charge of books over being in charge of people, and was probably just trying to keep the peace.

  With that bit of unpleasantness settled, Angel took her place in the line of women holding signs. With so many of them in Lilly's shop at once, the line stretched across the sales floor all the way back to the back room where Lilly did her sewing and stored her fabrics and notions.

  As for the shop owner, she stood just outside, propping open the door. From her vantage point, Lilly was watching the big clock that had recently been installed on the third-floor facade of the Taylor Hotel. "Alright, ladies. It's eleven thirty."

  Prissy, at the back of the line, called out, "Let's go, Crusaders!"

  The line of women began to move quickly and quietly out the open door of the shop and onto the walk bordering Town Road. Some carried signs or placards, but no one chanted or spoke-at least not yet. They were saving that for their destination.

  As Angel and Prissy left the shop, bringing up the rear of the line, Lilly locked the door and fell in behind them.

  Angel drew her short cape tighter against the slight chill in the air, and kept her eyes focused on the women moving ahead of her. As was typical of this time of day, there were a few people out on the walks, going about their daily business. Those in the path of the column of silent women stepped aside to allow them to pass, while watching with curious eyes.

  As they filed past the hat shop next to Lilly's, the milliner Zelda Graves stepped out. Her "Closed" sign was hung on the door, and Zelda took her place in line behind Lilly.

  Angel knew they made quite a sight, the long line of women marching up the walk in such a sizable group. Today, there would be no circling about in the streets, no holding up traffic; yet they knew what they were planning would have an impact. They moved as a unit, the picture of quiet determination, with a singular goal in mind. They wanted change, and they aimed to get it.

  She remembered her days as a young girl, hearing of her aunt's travels. She and her mother had Lucille led a relatively quiet life on the edge of town, a life that might have been boring without Myrna. She always returned from her theater company tours with wonderful stories of gracing stages in exciting locales and meeting all sorts of interesting people. Myrna had even participated in suffrage marches in New York, during performance tours of the area. Angel liked to think of herself as a product of the influence of the two women who'd raised her. She had Lucille's kindness of spirit, and her Aunt Myrna's sense of adventure. What greater adventure could there be than to be a catalyst for change; to influence the lives of women who weren't even born yet?

  Angel felt the smile spreading across her face as the women crossed Town Road. It would only be a few minutes before they reached their destination, and when they did, the men of town would have no choice but to listen.

  ***

  Gregory thumbed through the reports he'd been filling out for the last hour, checking them over one last time. His stomach rumbled again, this time loudly enough for Thaddeus Stern, his shift-mate, to hear it.

  The light horseman chuckled from his seat at the small table by the door, across from where Gregory sat at the big desk. "Deputy, I think it's time you went for lunch."

  Shaking his head, Gregory stamped the top of the stack and tucked the papers into the desk drawer. "I think you're right, Thad. Do you want me to bring you back something?"

  The younger man shook his head, barely looking up from his own weekly patrol reports. "I went by Ruby's this morning and picked up a sack lunch to go. I'm fine."

  "Alright then. I should be back within an hour." Gregory stood, shrugged his duster on over his shirt, vest, and denims. This morning had been uncharacteristically chilly, and he thought he might need the coat again to stave off any remaining chill. Plucking his black Stetson from hat rack, he placed it atop his head and strode out into the afternoon sunshine.

  The big clock on the Taylor hotel showed the hour to be about a quarter past noon. He crossed the street at the intersection when vehicle traffic allowed, moving north along the plank walk bordering Town Road.

  When he came to Ruby's, Ridgeway's only restaurant and the last business on the northernmost border of town, he saw a gaggle of folks standing outside. While a crowd was pretty typical of lunchtime at Ruby's, he couldn't recall ever seeing this many men waiting outside. Aside from that, they weren't in an orderly line. Instead, they were all lined up along the front of the building, like children peering in the windows of a candy store.

  Gregory moved closer to see what all the commotion was about, and as he did, he picked up on the faint sound of female voices. Are they singing? If they were, he couldn't guess why; this was hardly the time and place for a choir rehearsal.

  He tapped the shoulder of a man leaning against the door of the place. The man turned around, and he saw that it was young Levell Davis, who sometimes worked at Buck's Barbershop as an apprentice.

  "Levell, what's going on in there?"

  Levell spoke hurriedly as he relayed what he knew. "It's the womenfolk. They been in there the whole lunch hour so far, singing and chanting. There ain't a seat to be had!"

  The young man stepped back and allowed Gregory to see for himself. As he looked inside through the glass pane at the top of the restaurant door, he could see the women, doing just as Levell had said. They occupied every stool at the lunch counter, and every seat at every table in the place. At the moment, they were chanting loudly, "We Hunger for the Vote!" Among them was Angel May, who was seated atop the lunch counter. Her denim clad legs were crossed demurely, but her manner was boisterous as she hoisted a sign that read "Let Us Vote" over her head.

  The few men who'd made it inside were standing in the middle of the female contingent, all of them vying to get near the lunch counter. A few of them were leaning against the door as they waited, which prevented anyone else from entering.

  He stepped back from the door and pressed his hand to his forehead. Of all the trouble making, disruptive, fool-headed things to do. The men in Ridgeway and the surrounding towns worked hard, toiling all day to feed their families. The last thing they needed was this gaggle of crazy females keeping them from getting a decent meal.

  His stomach growled again, and he made up his mind. Pushing his hat forward on his head, he squared his shoulders. "Alright, stand back. I’m going in there."

  Those gathered outside back away, and Gregory pounded on the door. The men inside turned around, and seeing the deputy sheriff there, stepped aside. Gregory swung the door open and entered, his eyes focused squarely on Angel May.

  He raised his hand and his voice, shouted over the din. "Enough!"

  The chanting ceased, and the women put lowered their signs and placards. All eyes fell on him.

  Satisfied that he had their attention, he kept his gaze on Angel as he spoke. "Now see here. I realize you women think you've got a cause to defend. But these men have been working hard and they deserve to get a meal. Kindly clear outta here now, or I'll haul you all in for disturbing the peace!"

  The men in the room cheered, but the women groaned.

  Ever the firecracker, Angel May piped up. "You can't do that. The jail won't hold all of us." Her eyes flashed with the challenge.

  In response, the lad
ies cheered and applauded.

  He held up his hand again. "Stifle, all of you!" Then he addressed Angel. "It's true the jail won't hold all of you, Miss Lane. But it'll hold you just fine."

  Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't haul me in again!"

  In response to her statement, he strode across the room to where she sat on the counter. "I can, and I will." He took the bracelets from his belt loop, and while her eyes shot daggers at him, he secured her wrists.

  "I'm not going back to jail, Deputy." She turned up her nose, made a show of ignoring him.

  Gregory noticed how quiet the restaurant's interior had grown. Since he knew everyone was gossiping about him and Angel May courting, he decided to use this opportunity to let them all know she'd get no special treatment.

  So, with everyone present watching, he grasped her at the waist, lifting her off the counter.

  She uttered an outraged shout. "Put me down, you jackass!"

  "Gladly. But you will be coming with me to the jail. Put up anymore fuss, and I'll carry you there, and add a second charge for resisting arrest."

  She made a sound of disgust. "Fine. Just set me down before I sock you and get a third charge."

  He set her feet on the floor, and eased up to the counter with one hand on the chain between the cuffs.

  Ruby, the proprietor, stood there with her jaw hanging open.

  Addressing her, Gregory said, "Could you wrap me up a ham sandwich and an order of Saratoga chips, please? I'll take it with me."

  Still staring, Ruby nodded. "Sure thing, Deputy."

  He called out behind him, "Form a line behind me for your orders. And ladies, make yourselves scarce before I round you up."

  All present did as he asked. The men started to form an orderly line behind him. The women grumbled as they left their positions and filed out, freeing up the tables and stools.

  While he waited for his food, he hazarded a glance at his angry prisoner. She swiveled her head, refusing to make eye contact with him. Her lips were pursed tighter than the lid on a mason jar. Parts of him wanted to chuckle at her pouting, but he held himself in check.

  When Ruby handed him the small canvas sack containing his lunch, he turned and gave the chain a tug. "Alright. Let's go."

  "Hmph." Still refusing to look at him, she followed him out of the restaurant. They moved in tandem down the street and back across to the sheriff's office.

  Inside, Thad jumped up from his seat. Seeing the sour faced Angel, he asked, "Could you use a hand, Deputy?"

  Gregory nodded. "Open up the first cell so Miss Lane can cool her heels."

  Thad grabbed the keys from the wall behind his table, and did as he was asked. Gregory escorted his angry companion into the cell, released the handcuffs, and then stood back as Thad locked her in.

  The young light horseman replaced the keys on the nail in the wall. Thad looked between Angel's angry face, and Gregory's indifferent one. Then, he asked, "Would now be a good time for my coffee break?"

  Gregory chuckled, knowing Thad had picked up on the tension between him and Angel. "Go on, Thad. Be back in quarter of an hour."

  Once Thad strolled out, Gregory sat down at his desk, set on finally feeding his growling stomach. He removed the sandwich from the bag, unwrapped the linen surrounding it, and took a bite. As always, Ruby's ham was tender and well-seasoned, and nestled between two thick slices of her heavenly, butter-laden bread.

  From inside the cell, Angel cleared her throat.

  His seat behind the big desk allowed him to see directly into her cell, which was to his left. Only a strip of flooring about six feet wide separated the desk from the cell block.

  When he'd swallowed the bite of food, and washed it down with some water from the canteen he kept at the desk, he turned her way. "Something you need, Miss Lane?"

  She released a bitter laugh. "Sure, Deputy. What I need is to know why I was fool enough to say I'd court you."

  He shrugged as he chewed another bite of the sandwich. "Don't know. Had you had much to drink that day?"

  She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. "Oh, is this amusing to you, Gregory? You find this funny?"

  "A bit."

  "If I weren't locked in here, I'd wallop you good."

  "Then I'd just have to call the sheriff in, and have you hauled off to Oakland to see the marshal."

  She harrumphed, folded her arms over her chest. "You're such an ass."

  He looked at her sitting there, with the fabric of the tight denims clinging to her shapely hips, and the frilly red blouse she wore revealing the graceful curve of neck and collarbone. Even wearing that sour puss, she was a beauty. "I know you're angry with me. But I have a job to do, you know."

  "There was no reason to arrest me again. You didn't give me time to..."

  "Time to what? Talk my ear off about how women ought to have the vote? I've had my fill of that, thanks."

  She sat back against the wall and lapsed into angry silence.

  He raked his gaze over the lines of her face, so tense with frustration. She believed in her cause, he had to give her that much. Though she was currently a prisoner, that fact didn't stop him from wanting to rake his hands through the dark riches of her hair, and kiss her pouting lips until her anger melted like sugar in a steaming cup of coffee.

  "You're beautiful when you're angry, Angel."

  She rolled her eyes his way. "I'm not speaking to you, Gregory Simmons."

  "Ah, but you just did, my dear." He got up from the desk, sidled over to the cell.

  Their eyes connected.

  He winked at her.

  She gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

  Nonplussed, he waited, watching her.

  A hint of a smile crossed her face.

  "Is that a smile I see?" He teased her, his hands gripping the bars.

  "Gregory..." her tone chastised him, yet still held a hint of humor.

  "Maybe I can win your heart yet." He winked at her again.

  The reddish color rising in her cheeks, along with the way she covered her mouth to hide her smile, gave away that her mood had lightened somewhat.

  "I'm not going to ask for bail this time. Your friends can keep their money."

  She seemed relieved to hear him say that. Uncovering her mouth, she said in a wry tone, "Your mercy knows no bounds, warden."

  He chuckled. "Just be glad of it, Angel."

  Their gazes connected again. She lowered her eyes, batting the long, dark fringe of her lashes in the most appealing way. The gesture reminded him of why he'd asked her to court him. She was a firecracker on the outside, but inside her there was a soft, feminine treasure, one he hoped to reveal.

  He was so caught up looking at her that he didn't notice Thad returning from his break. When the young man cleared his throat, he turned to see him standing in the doorway, grinning.

  Gregory furrowed his brow. "What's so funny, Thad?"

  "So, it's true. You and Miss Lane are..."

  Gregory shook his head as he finished the statement. "Yes. Angel and I are courting. Since when do lawmen participate in idle gossip?"

  Thad only grinned wider as he retook his seat behind the small table. "It's all over town, Deputy. In a place like Ridgeway, gossip is near impossible to avoid."

  He knew Thad was right.

  When he glanced back at Angel, she raised her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. "Any chance of a prisoner getting an early release for good behavior?"

  Shaking his head, he went for the keys.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  Letting herself in the back door of her apartment, Angel slipped inside and closed the door behind her. It was nearing the dinner hour, and she dearly hoped her aunt was out, perhaps with the ladies of her quilting circle, or the bible study group she often attended.

  She took slow, quiet steps over the braided rug toward her bedroom. She heard no sign of her aunt's presence, only the muffled sound of a few conversations coming from the saloon up front. />
  She placed her hand on the knob of her bedroom door.

  "Angel May, you may as well quit sneaking around and face me, Missy."

  Angel sighed, her shoulders slumping as she turned toward her aunt's voice. "Aunt Myrna, I thought you'd be out."

  Myrna emerged from behind the bamboo screen that separated her sleeping area from the parlor, with a look of censure on her aged face. "Nonsense. It's Thursday evening and I have no place to be but home. Now what's this I hear about you being arrested again?"

  Her shoulders slumped, and she hung her head. "I was protesting with the Crusaders, and Gregory decided to abuse his authority and haul me in for disturbing the peace."

  Myrna folded her thin arms over her chest, rustling the fabric of the voluminous silk kimono she wore. She'd brought the garment back from a tour of the Orient. "That's not what I heard, Angel. Eugenia says you goaded him."

  Angel rolled her eyes. Eugenia Taylor's lips never cease their flapping. "Well, I may have, but only a little."

  Myrna wagged an aged finger in her direction. "Angel, you're tempting fate. You know that if you're arrested three times on the same charge, the town charter says you're to go before the marshal in Oakland. Is that what you want to do?"

  "No, but I..."

  Her aunt cut her off. "Then for goodness sakes, stop provoking the man. Find another way to bring him around to our way of thinking. You two are courting, aren't you?"

  She nodded, knowing there was no sense in denying it. She and Gregory were apparently the talk of the town. Even some of the other Crusaders had made their interest known, by way of the not-so-subtle questions they'd peppered her with.

  By now, her aunt had moved into the parlor area, and was making herself comfortable on the settee. “Then I suggest you use your feminine talents to persuade him, because I don't want to see you get into any more trouble."

  She took a seat next to her aunt, looked into the dark eyes of the woman who'd helped her mother raise her. Surely, she wasn't saying..."Aunt Myrna!"