“Your husband has a few broken bones, which I will set, but my main concern is his back. It was crushed when the ceiling fell in on him. We won’t know for a few days if it created permanent damage to his spinal cord.”
Mrs. Stratford pressed her fingers to her mouth and whimpered.
The doctor nodded at Jed. “Glad you’re here, Reverend. I’m a firm believer in prayer.”
Before he opened his bible, Jed turned to Mrs. Stratford. “Can you send a note to my house for my wife and tell her I will be here for some time. I don’t want to leave until I see Mr. Stratford awaken.”
Mindy gave the stew one more stir and then moved back to the kitchen table where she was struggling to cut out the pattern for a new shirt for Jed. She’d never made a stitch of clothing in her life, but she wanted to do this so she could surprise her husband. He’d been very patient with her—well, most of the time—and she wanted to show her appreciation, and also tackle another skill that she needed to learn.
The last two dresses she’d added to her closet had been bought by Jed at the mercantile in town. She knew it was expensive to buy clothes, as well as the bread they’d continued to purchase each day since her baking skills hadn’t improved much. At least she could cook a meal now. They’d had oatmeal for breakfast, and would have the stew for dinner at noon.
When she’d returned from the green grocer with the vegetables for the stew, Jed had been gone. He oftentimes left the house to visit a member, or take care of some church business, so it wasn’t unusual for him to disappear like that.
She studied the shirt pieces and was pretty sure they were all there. All she had to do now was sew them all together. If she got good enough at this, maybe they would be able to one day buy a sewing machine she’d seen at the Nelson’s house. Her spirits lifted at the thought of finishing the shirt, and the smell of the stew on the stove.
“Ouch!” She stuck her finger with a needle as a knock sounded at the front door. She laid the shirt piece down, and sucking on her finger, made her way to the door.
“Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Peterson.” She held in a groan when she saw the woman on her front steps. Lordy be, the woman never left them alone. Mrs. Peterson clutched a piece of paper in her hand, with a smirk on her face. Three other women stood behind her, one of them with a similar expression the two others staring at their feet.
“May we come in, Mrs. Nelson?”
Everything in Mindy shouted, “No! Go away and leave me alone.” Instead, she opened the door farther. “Of course.”
As they marched past her, Mindy got a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something was wrong, and she was sure this visit wouldn’t turn out well. “Can I offer you some tea?”
Mrs. Peterson raised her chin and sniffed. “No, thank you. This won’t take long.” She settled herself on the sofa and waved at the other women to take seats also. Unsure why, but feeling it was necessary, Mindy decided to remain standing.
“Well, Miss Cinnamon O’Brien, what have you to say for yourself?”
“What?” Mindy’s dry mouth could only whisper the word.
Mrs. Peterson waved the paper she held in her hand. “I thought there was something fishy about you, with your inability to perform common household tasks.” She pointed a finger at her. “I’ve been watching you.”
“Mrs. Peterson, I am not sure what it is you are accusing me of.” Although she felt like fleeing from the disapproval of the women sitting in her parlor, she refused to turn tail and run. And anyway, where would she go? This was her house, after all.
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “What are we accusing you of?” She glanced from one woman to the other. “Can you believe her nerve?”
The two women who had been starting at their feet, slowly looked up at her, but instead of righteous indignation, she saw pity, and uneasiness. Apparently, at least these two had been dragged into this by Mrs. Peterson.
“So you know my name before I married. What has that to do with your visit today?”
“Don’t get smart with me, young lady.” She shook the paper again. “I wrote to a friend of mine in Dodge City. We now know your own mother is a whore! And you were raised right by her side in a house of ill repute.” She stopped, allowing the words to ring off the walls.
Mindy took deep breaths, reminding herself it would not be considered good manners to fling herself onto the woman and yank her hair out by the roots. “I don’t understand what that has to do with me.” She was annoyed that her voice shook.
“Oh, don’t you?” She rose, and walked toward Mindy, forcing her to back up, or be plowed over. “You worked as a saloon girl, doing god knows what in the back room of the Lady Gay.” She snorted and turned to the other women who now watched her with horror. “Apparently the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, Mrs. Peterson, but all I did in the saloon was serve drinks. Nothing else.”
“Oh really.” She walked in a circle, giving everyone time to consider her next words. “Then you don’t remember attacking a well-respected mayor of Dodge City, causing him serious injuries, and then ending up in jail?”
Mindy sat, her shaky legs no longer able to support her. Why was she surprised? She had known this was coming. She was not good enough to be a preacher’s wife, and certainly not good enough to have such a wonderful husband as Jedediah Nelson. It had only been a matter of time before her dreams had come crashing down around her.
“We are here, Miss O’Brien, to warn you that we will not tolerate you having anything to do with our church. And to think you, a fallen woman, thought to teach our children about the bible!”
Her accuser pulled on her gloves and motioned for the other women to rise. “We will be on our way now. Just remember what I said. We expect you will stay far away from the church. The likes of you are not wanted.” They all trooped to the front door. Not turning back, they left the house, closing the door with a bit more enthusiasm than Mindy would have thought necessary.
Mindy fidgeted with the piece of Jed’s shirt, numbness stealing over her. A lone tear dripped onto the piece of fabric.
She had no idea how long she sat in the parlor, but once her mind cleared, she knew exactly what she had to do. She’d brought shame to Jed. The women who had invaded her home told her they would not allow her back into the church. No more bible classes with the children. She was a Jezebel, and her presence here only harmed her husband.
She wiped her face with the sleeve from the shirt she’d attempted to make for Jed. Glancing at the clock, she figured she had enough time to pack her few things and take the noon train back to Dodge City. Where she belonged. Not in a nice town, with decent people who wanted a church free of sinners, and a righteous person to teach the bible to their children.
Certainly not her.
Before she could give herself time to dwell on her decision, she hastened to the bedroom, threw her things into a suitcase, and struggled to write a note to Jed.
I’m so sorry, Jed. But I knew this wouldn’t work. I told you from the start I was not cut out to be a preacher’s wife. Please don’t hate me.
Love, Mindy
Love, Mindy. Yes, now that she was about to walk away, she realized her idea of keeping her heart safe from Jed had been a stupid idea. Of course she loved him. From the first time he’d taken up for her on the school play yard, she’d loved him. Being married to him, living with him day in and day out, having him love her each night with his body had only made that love stronger. What a fool she’d been!
She slipped her wedding ring off, and placed it on top of the note. With a quick look around their little house where she’d had such hope, she turned, gently closed the door and walked to the train station.
9
Jed left the Stratford house feeling a lot better than when he’d arrived. Once the man woke up, he insisted on sitting up in bed, relieving them all of any worries about injuries to his spine. He had a broken arm, and a broken wrist o
n the other arm. His legs had been crushed and battered, but no bones had been broken, so he would be on the mend in a few weeks.
He’d also suffered from a headache, but luckily his head had only been grazed when the ceiling collapsed, with most of the weight landing on his arms and legs. All in all, Jed felt as though his prayers had done a lot to comfort his wife.
The walk home didn’t take long, but he frowned as he turned the corner of the church and headed to his house. Since it was well past seven in the evening, and Mindy should have been waiting for him, he was surprised to see no lights. His concern increased when he opened the front door and smelled something burning.
He lit an oil lamp by the door and carried it to the kitchen, where he lit another lamp and pulled a pot of scorched food from the stove. Where was Mindy?
Placing his hands on his hips, he surveyed the room. Everything looked normal. Once he entered the bedroom, he knew something serious had happened. Things were missing from the top of the dresser, and from underneath the bed. He opened the wardrobe and all of her dresses were gone.
His heart began to thump, and his stomach muscles knotted. He returned to the parlor and then he saw the piece of paper lying on the table. In the scant light it looked like her wedding ring sitting on top of it. Next to the note was Mindy’s bible.
With shaky hands, he opened the paper and read.
She was gone.
He collapsed into a chair and placed his hands on both sides of his head. What the devil had happened? And why did she all of a sudden feel as though their marriage wouldn’t work out? He ran his palm down his face and tried to calm himself enough to think. There was only one place Mindy would go. Back to Dodge City.
He checked the small china bowl on top of the dish closet in the kitchen, and counted the money. Enough was missing that she could have bought either a train or stage coach ticket.
Mindy, my love, what were you thinking?
Of course, he had to go after her. But first he intended to get to the bottom of this. Since the next day was Sunday, he would conduct his service, and then Monday he would catch the eight o’clock in the morning stage coach, or the noon train, which would get him into Dodge City around eight at night.
There was no doubt in his mind where he would start to get answers to this puzzle. Clutching the paper in his hand, he strode out the door, across the street, directly to Mrs. Peterson’s house.
After a long day of traveling, Mindy clutched the handle of her suitcase and stared at the faded sign on the building where she’d been raised, ‘Miss Pennyworth’s Pleasure Palace.’
Home, sweet, home.
She pushed open the back door of the building and entered the kitchen. It looked the same, smelled the same. Three women sat at the table, obviously getting ready for the night’s work. “Miss Mindy, what are you doin’ here? I thought you moved to Colorado with that preacher husband?” Aggie Smith, one of the ‘girls’ who had helped raise her, held a cup of coffee between her hands.
“Yeah, well, that didn’t work out.” She slumped into one of the chairs.
Aggie’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re lookin’ to work here? None of us is wanting to compete with no pretty young face like yours.”
Mindy shook her head. “No. I just want to see if my ma can put me up for a few days until I can get my old saloon job back. Or another one if I’m still not wanted there.” She looked around. “Anyone know where Ma is?”
“She ain’t come down for supper yet. Probably still up in her room.”
Mindy picked up the suitcase. “I might as well get this over with.” She took the back stairs to the third level where the girls slept when not on duty. The second floor’s bedrooms were all for ‘business.’
She knocked briefly. “Yeah?”
The room smelled the way she’d always remembered. Stale tobacco and whiskey. Her mother sat at her dressing table, putting on the face paint that she hoped would hide all the wear and tear her face had suffered over the years. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hi, Ma. It’s nice to see you, too.”
Ma shrugged. “I thought you hied off with your nose in the air to some new life with the preacher boy.”
“It didn’t work out. I guess you were right.” She twisted a piece of hair as she watched her mother, wishing once again she was different. Wishing Ma had a real life, a husband, a home. Went to church on Sundays.
The building would probably collapse on her head.
“Dammit, girl, you know I was right. You ain’t never accepted your place in life, Cinnamon.”
“Ma, you would think you’d want better for your daughter.” She sighed. “And don’t call me Cinnamon.”
The woman spun around in the chair. “Honey, there ain’t no reason to wish for better. Better don’t follow people like us.” She turned back and regarded her through the mirror as she painted kohl on her eyes. “You go see Miss Pennyworth. She’ll give you a place. Even though the others don’t want to admit it, we’re getting old. There’s fewer and fewer men looking for a tumble with us. They want new girls.” She dropped the kohl pencil and smiled. “You’d make yourself a good bit of money. Maybe one day open your own place.” She winked.
Mindy swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat. “No, Ma. I don’t want to be a whore.”
Her mama shrugged again. “Suit yourself. Just keep chasing them dreams. Cause that’s all they are, girl. Dreams.”
“Can I stay here for a few days until I get a job?”
She traced her lips with a red pencil, then leaned back, checking in the mirror, moving her head right, then left. “Don’t make me no never mind. You can curl up on the floor again. Just don’t go gettin’ in my way.” She looked at her through the mirror. “And don’t you go preaching at me, or you’ll find your sorry ass out on the street.”
“I left my bible in Colorado.”
“Good. Don’t need no one sprouting that stuff around here. Bad for business.” Once more she became interested in finishing her make up. “Well, go ahead and drop your things. If the Lady Gay won’t take you on again, there’s a new place two blocks up, The Long Branch Saloon. You might want to try there.”
“Thanks, Ma.” As Mindy turned to leave the room, her ma called her back. “What?”
Ma looked at her through the mirror, an expression on her face Mindy had never seen before. “I’m real sorry it didn’t work out, Mindy. I was wrong to suggest you get a job here. You’re a good girl, and I believe you will have a better life one day.”
Mindy’s jaw dropped. “For real?”
Her ma almost looked embarrassed at having said something nice. “Yeah, for real. Then you can take care of your old mother when she needs to retire.”
Mindy raised her chin in the air. “I will take care of you, Mama.”
“You probably would. You were always a fool.” She turned back to the mirror and continued with her makeup.
The Lady Gay also looked and smelled the same. Same stinky cowboys drinking up a storm, same bartender wiping the bar with a dirty cloth. Her former co-worker, Marina, still dodged eager hands while serving drinks. A new girl, her face flushed, seemed to be having a hard time handling the drinks and the customers. She looked about ready to drop her tray and run. Maybe Mindy could get her old job back.
“Well, well, look who’s back here. If it ain’t the former jailbird and preacher’s wife.” Silas, the same bartender, shouted above the din from behind the bar. A bunch of drinkers turned and stared at her. Whistles and invitations to take a walk upstairs had her stomach sinking. How she wished she didn’t have to do this again.
She dragged her feet to the bar. “Is Stuart around?”
“You think he’s gonna give you your job back?”
“Don’t look to me that the new girl is gonna last.” She gestured with her chin at the girl who was now slamming the glasses down like she planned to push them through the table. “I don’t think she has the knack for drink serving
.”
“She’s the third one since you left. I’ll check with Stuart. Come back in about a half hour.”
Mindy nodded and left. With the little bit of money left from her train ticket, maybe she’d treat herself to a meal.
The next morning, Jed tugged on his shirt sleeves and adjusted his jacket. Today he would give a sermon that might very well be his last as a preacher. When he left Mrs. Peterson’s the night before, he’d been so angry he’d almost ripped the door off its hinges when he’d returned to his house. The old, interfering, malicious woman, had riled him so. If she’d thought he’d been angry last night, she would be surprised by his comments today.
“Good morning, Reverend,” Miss Miller greeted him as he approached the church. Giving her a curt nod, he continued on. Although it was not Christian-like, he had to hold onto his anger. His bed remained unused last night as he’d spent most of the night thinking about today’s service. Once the sun rose, he was ready.
He entered the back door of the church and knelt to pray. He hoped the Lord would forgive him the harsh words he intended to speak to the congregation. But they needed to be said. Steeling himself for what was to come, he stepped into the sanctuary and moved to the pulpit.
“Good morning,” his voice rang clear. Something must have shown on his face because his audience seemed more alert, more on edge. Very little fidgeting, and rapt expressions.
He cleared his throat, and looked at the pianist. “Miss O’Neill, will you please escort the children from the church and entertain them outside for a few minutes? I will let you know when you can return.”
The children climbed over their parents to gather in the front. Miss O’Neill led them out the side door. Once the door closed, and silence once again reigned, Jed cleared his throat, and stared at the gathering. “For those of you who are unaware, my wonderful wife, Mindy Nelson, who I love very much, was raised in a brothel by the prostitute who was her mother.”
Prisoners of Love Books 1-3: Adelaide Cinnamon Becky Page 19