Ophelia

by Charlene Raddon

  “Dresses are over here, Mrs. Crane.” The salesgirl led her to a corner of the large store where dresses hung in an open clothespress.

  “You know who I am?”

  The look the girl gave her questioned Ophelia's intelligence. “Everyone knows who you are.”

  “I see.” What the girl hadn't said was that everyone was prepared to dislike her, no doubt because of her husband. Although she hadn't expected this reaction, she couldn't be shocked. Mortimer had made no friends here. “While I search through these, could you find me two sets of undergarments for a twelve-year-old, please?”

  “Yes, ma'am.” She walked away, leaving Ophelia alone and decidedly lonely all of a sudden. Somehow, she must earn these people's respect.

  She picked out two dresses, both of simple muslin, one in blue, the other yellow. As she laid them over her arm, the girl returned carrying a pile of white cotton underwear, including petticoats, corset covers, a corset and stockings.

  “She won't need a corset or the cover.” Ophelia took it and laid it aside on a display table. She rummaged through the other things. “These will do. Thank you very much, Miss…?”

  “Jane, ma'am.”

  “You did well, Jane. I appreciate your help.” She gave the girl a smile and saw a question dart through Jane's eyes. “Is there something you'd like to ask me?”

  Jane glanced around. “Well, everyone is wondering, ma'am, if you're planning to live here in Wildcat Ridge.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. You see, I sold my home in Salt Lake City and, since I'm filing for divorce, I decided to move here.”

  Jane frowned. “If you're divorcing Mr. Crane, why would you come to live in his town?”

  Ophelia cast her glance around the room, noting the women watching them. She leaned closer to the girl and whispered her reply with a smile as if conspiring with her. “That's for you to learn in good time, Jane. The whole town will learn soon.”

  The girl flushed. “I didn't mean to be presumptuous, Mrs. Crane.”

  “You weren't. Now, will you help me carry these to the counter, so I may pay for them?”

  Jane took the pile of under things, while Ophelia carried the dresses. An elderly woman came over as they laid the items down.

  “May I help you with anything else, Mrs. Crane?” Milly asked.

  “No, dear. Thank you for being so kind and efficient.”

  Jane shot a Hear that? look at the older woman and went to serve another customer.

  “Welcome to Wildcat Ridge, Mrs. Crane,” the other woman said. “I'm Mrs. Tweedie. Will this be all for you today?”

  “Yes, I believe so, unless you can think of anything else a girl who would fit such garments might need.”

  “Perhaps.” Mrs. Tweedie went to the other end of the long counter, withdrew a box from a shelf and brought it back. “Has she been fitted with one of these?”

  The box read Feminine Hygiene Belt. “Oh, yes. I suppose she must be old enough for one of these. Thank you. That was thoughtful of you.”

  Mrs. Tweedie smiled. “We aim to please.”

  “I'm most grateful. Maybe I should add a brush and comb as well.”

  The aging woman fetched the items and returned, leaning over the counter to speak softly, “Don't fret over the lack of friendliness from other women in town, dear. They look at you and see an adversary they've been fighting for months or years. They simply need to come to know you as you rather than as Mrs. Crane.”

  “I get your meaning, Mrs. Tweedie, and I hope you're right. I am not my husband, or anything like him. No one here has anything to fear from me.”

  “Good to know, dear. Now, would you like these placed on Mr. Crane's tab?”

  Ophelia started to say No, then stopped when she noticed the twinkle in the store owner's eyes. “Why, yes. Do put them on his bill and thank you for the suggestion.”

  “We women must stick together, don't you think?”

  “Indeed. If you'll wrap these up, I'll take them with me.”

  “Of course.”

  On her way out of the store, Ophelia made a point of smiling and nodding at each woman to let them know she held nothing against them for snubbing her.

  She arrived back at the hotel to find Marzda finishing breakfast in the kitchen. She was wearing an old, overly long dress Ophelia had given her. Mrs. Dobbs stood at the sink, washing dishes.

  “Mrs. Dobbs made me scrambled eggs and toast, Mrs. Crane,” Marzda said when Ophelia entered. “It tasted ever so good.”

  “How nice of her to do that for you. Did you sleep well?”

  “Like I was dead. I'd forgotten how nice it was to sleep in a real bed. I'll try to get up earlier from now on though. I want to earn my pay.” Marzda jumped up and wrapped her arms around her.

  For a moment, Ophelia didn't know what to do. No one had ever hugged her before, except men who wanted something from her. And, of course, her children. No one had ever given her better hugs than Eliza and Dominic. Touched, she gave the girl a squeeze and let go. “You're welcome. I have one favor to ask though.”

  “What's that?”

  “Call me Ophelia. Take these to your room and try them on. When you've changed, come to my room so I can see how they fit.”

  “Clothes? Are they clothes?” Marzda began tearing at the packages.

  Laughing, Ophelia stopped her. “I said to take them to your room.”

  “Oh, let her see what you got,” Angie Dobbs said. “I want to see too.”

  “All right. Open the packages, then we'll go upstairs so you can put them on.”

  “Yay!” The girl ripped open the largest package, revealing the two dresses. “Oh, ma'am, I ain't never had nothing so nice before. They must have cost a lot. You can deduct it from my pay.”

  “No need for that. These will be your uniforms to work in. There are aprons as well, and caps for your hair to keep the dust out. And, Marzda…”

  “Yes?”

  “Don't say ain't. That is poor English.”

  Marzda blinked at her. “Everybody says ain't.”

  “I don't. I haven't heard Mrs. Dobbs say it either. It's a word educated women don't use.”

  “But I ain't… I mean, I haven't had no education.”

  “You will. Every afternoon, we'll meet in my room for lessons in reading, writing and sums.”

  Most children would look disgusted with that announcement. Marzda grinned. “Yes, ma'am. I'd like to get educated.”

  “You'd like to be educated.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It's all right. You're learning.”

  Suddenly, tears leaked over Marzda's eyelids down her cheeks, and she threw herself into Ophelia's arms again. “I love you, Ophelia. And Mr. Duvall too. He's my hero.”

  Amused and touched, Ophelia returned the hug then held the girl away from her. “Thank you. I'm very honored. Now, go get dressed.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Marzda gathered up the packages and raced out of the room.

  Angie filled two cups with coffee and set them on the table. “You have time for a quick cup.”

  They sat and sipped at the dark brew.

  “You have amazed me, Ophelia,” Angie said. “You're nothing I expected you to be. I bet you were a good mother.”

  “You'd have to ask my children that.” Ophelia stared into her cup. “I miss them terribly. My son, Dominick, just left for school in Pittsburgh before I traveled to come here. And my daughter, Eliza, was married five months ago.”

  “You can visit them. We can handle things here if you leave for a while.”

  Taking another sip of coffee, Ophelia said, “I'm hoping Eliza and her husband, Edmund, will come here now and then too. And Dom can come on holidays.”

  “I'm sure they will.”

  “I'd best get upstairs. As fast as that child moves, it won't take her any time to change.” Ophelia stood and put her cup in the sink. “Thank you for the coffee and the understanding, Angie.”

  “You're welcome. I'll be at
the front desk if you need me.”

  Ophelia nodded and headed for the stairs. Marzda already stood at her door in the yellow dress when Ophelia arrived.

  “Don't I look beautiful, Ophelia? I feel like a princess.”

  Marzda's figure was more developed than Ophelia had guessed. She unlocked her door and led the girl inside. “You'll need a larger size, I'm afraid. The dress is too tight through the chest.”

  “It doesn't feel tight,” the girl objected.

  “Did you put the shift on underneath?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes, and the petticoat as well. I'll get you a larger dress when I can get back to the mercantile. We don't want men staring at you.” Taking the girl by the shoulders, she turned her toward the mirror in the door of the wardrobe.

  After one look, Marzda said, “Oh,” and pressed her hands against the small breasts poking at the fabric of her bodice.

  “It will look better with the shift underneath,” Ophelia told her then directed her gaze to Marzda's bare feet. “What about the shoes? Did you try them?”

  “No. I was too eager for you to see me in the dress. I'll do it now.” Off she raced.

  Chuckling, Ophelia shook her head and sat down to wait for her to return. Brody had surprised her by rescuing the girl. He could have been badly injured. Three ruffians who would think nothing of raping a twelve-year-old girl wouldn't hesitate to kill a man who interfered. Perhaps she had misjudged him.

  “They fit,” Marzda shouted before she wheeled into the room and came to a halt. She held up one foot then the other. “See?”

  “Yes, I do.” The shoes were black button-up shoes. Ophelia pressed on the toe to see if the girl had any growing room. “You'll need new ones next year.”

  “Oh, but these are so lovely. Surely they'll last longer than that.”

  “It's not their durability I'm concerned with, Marzda. I believe you'll outgrow them.”

  “My old shoes were awful tight, 'cepting they had holes that gave me a little more room. These feel much better. But I ain't… I haven't had to get bigger shoes in the last year.”

  “Until now, you mean.”

  “Yeah, until now.”

  Rising, Ophelia said, “How about we go downstairs, and I'll show you how to dust the furniture?”

  “I already know how to dust. I did it for my ma before she died.”

  “Good. I'll simply put you to work then.”

  An hour later when Brody came upon them in the lobby, he watched for a few minutes before joining Ophelia sitting by the fireplace.

  “She appears quite efficient,” he said. “A hard worker too.”

  “I think she'll do fine.” She studied him. “I looked over the books. The hotel is not earning much profit. I'm sure the Gentlemen Only Salon isn't either, but I'll need to check their ledgers as well before I make final decisions.”

  “The books are in my office here. I take care of them,” he said, standing also.

  He showed her where they were and left her to peruse them. The profit margin for the salon was worse than for the hotel. That justified the idea she'd been tossing around in her mind.

  Returning to the desk, where Brody stood chatting with Mrs. Dobbs, she said, “The salon is doing worse than we are here. Mrs. Dobbs, remember when I talked about setting up a meeting with the whole town? I think I need to do that as soon as possible.”

  “Would you like to discuss your plans before going public with them?” Brody asked.

  “I had thought to consult Owen Vaile.”

  “He's pretty busy. But if you feel safer talking to him, it's up to you.”

  Ophelia groaned inside. She'd hurt his feelings. Did she care? Darn it, yes, she did. She glanced at the clock. “All right. It's nearly time for supper. Why don't we discuss it over a meal?”

  An elderly couple came down the stairs, nodded to them and went out the front door. The hotel only had half a dozen guests. Ophelia intended to change that.

  “Very well. Are you ready to go now?”

  “Yes.”

  He opened the door and followed her out. “I had a chance to speak to Owen earlier. As near as he can determine, Mortimer hasn't learned yet of your presence here. He's dealing with a labor dispute at the Gold King II, thanks to Braxton Gamble who has allowed the union into the Arrastra Mine.”

  Good. Mortimer deserves all the disputes he can get. “Thank you for sharing that news.” They crossed Elm Avenue and continued up Front Street. In the gully, Moose Creek tumbled and roared, overflowing its banks with snowmelt. She paused at the sight of two small boys standing on the edge throwing rocks into the raging water.

  Before she could act, Brody strode to the edge of the gully. “You boys come up out of there. If you fell in, you'd drown for sure.”

  “I can swim,” one of them called back.

  “Not even I could swim effectively when the current's that swift. No one could. It would simply carry you away.”

  They dropped their rocks and grudgingly climbed back up to the road.

  “Good boys.” Brody ruffled their hair as they trudged past them.

  Watching them go, Ophelia said, “First, you rescue a girl from thugs. Now, boys from a rampant river. I had no idea you were such a hero.”

  “You know more than you think, Ophelia.”

  He walked on toward the café, leaving her standing in the street. Had she hurt his feelings again? His statement had not been an idle one. She'd detected anger and resentment in his tone. Why? She'd been complimenting him, not criticizing.

  After a tense and somber supper, Brody accompanied Ophelia to City Hall to speak with the mayor.

  “Mrs. Crane.” Hester bounced up from her chair and came around the desk to greet her. “I'm so glad you came. It's an honor to meet you at last.”

  “Thank you. I'm sorry I didn't get over sooner, and today, I've come for a reason other than to say hello.”

  “Is there something I can help you with?”

  Ophelia liked Hester Vaile immediately. She was a no-nonsense woman who didn't waste time on trivialities. “Actually, I wanted to ask if you could recommend a building where I could address the entire town. I want to put everyone at ease about my moving here and assure them that they have nothing to fear from me.”

  “An excellent idea, my dear. Come and sit down. Let's discuss this.”

  They sat opposite the mayor at her desk, and Hester took out a hand-drawn map of the town. “We have the school house, of course, but it would be rather crowded.”

  “What about the opera house?” Brody asked.

  Hester's face lit up. “What a good suggestion. It's perfect. Large enough to hold every citizen and with a stage and podium. Plus, everyone will be able to see you. When do you want to do this?”

  “Soon,” Ophelia said, toying with the hem of her glove. The thought of facing the entire town suddenly seemed threatening somehow.

  “Why don't we do it on a Sunday evening? Priscilla Gamble comes down from the springs to teach Bible school and conduct an abbreviated service. Her father was the minister here before the mine disaster. We're seeking a new minister but have had no luck so far.” She leaned closer. “Perhaps men of religion find it uncomfortable being so high in the mountains and closer to God.”

  Hester had a delightful little giggle Ophelia found cheerful and amusing. No wonder Owen fell in love with this small woman. Hester had more energy and spunk than a woman her age should have. Ophelia wished she had the same bright outlook and amenable attitude. The two of them were of an age. She suspected they might become fast friends and looked forward to spending more time with her.

  “So no one uses the opera house on Sunday evenings?” she asked.

  “Oh, no. We did hold some celebrations there last year, but none so far this year.” She took a ledger from a drawer and opened it. “Let's see what's available. The opera house is used for everything from church to quilt-making. Looks like this is a busy week. How about a week from Sund
ay? Will that be soon enough?”

  “Yes, that will do.” She'd have preferred getting it over with, but the delay would give her more time to prepare. “I'll plan on being there a week from Sunday at seven in the evening.”

  “Good. I'll spread the word. You might want to pop across the street to the newspaper office and speak to Dinky Moon about putting out a special issue of the Ridge Weekly. He does that sometimes when people want to get word about something to the whole town.”

  “I'll do that. Thank you for the suggestion.” Ophelia rose, as did Brody and Hester. “I'd best be going now. I have a good deal to do.”

  Hester came out from behind her desk and took Ophelia's hand in hers, patting it like she might a child's head. “I look forward to hearing what you have to say. Perhaps next week we can get together for an hour or so to chat.”

  “Yes, Let's do that.”

  Brody said goodbye and they walked across the street. Dinky Moon was an attractive young man and his wife, Thalia, delightful. They agreed to put out a special issue of the paper for a very reasonable cost.

  After leaving the newspaper office, Ophelia said, “What a nice couple. They seem so happy.”

  “Yes. I understand they've had their problems though, mostly before their marriage. Dinky was sort of the town drunk until Thalia took him under her wing and convinced him to quit drinking.” He gazed up at the sky where clouds gathered, threatening a storm.

  “She must be quite a strong woman then.”

  “You'll find more strong women here in Wildcat Ridge than anywhere else, I'd venture to say.” He brushed a finger over his mustache as if checking for crumbs. “Having to fend for themselves for several months after their men died in the mine explosion forced them to be strong.”

  “I can well imagine.” Ophelia felt more certain than ever that she'd made a good decision moving here. Perhaps some of these women's strength would rub off on her.

  Chapter Five

  The week went quickly. Choosing furnishings from a catalog, getting new wallpaper hung, draperies made, and other details kept Ophelia occupied. The storm delayed the delivery of furniture, and Marzda's lessons took up the afternoons. Sunday came faster than she'd hoped. Walking to the opera house with Brody, Mrs. Dobbs and Marzda, she felt unprepared and as nervous as a whore in a preacher's bed, worried the ceiling would cave in on her for her sins.