A Chance at Love (5 page)

Jake sighed unhappily.

Dede got up from her chair, but instead of following her twin out the back door, she stopped in front of her un
cle and confessed, “Bebe's not telling the truth. We didn't decide. We just don't want anybody for a mama but Loreli. That's all.”

He looked into the small brown face that was a true miniature of his sister Bonnie's, and was moved by her honesty. “Thanks, De.”

“You're welcome.”

A moment later she was gone, and he was left with her words:
“We just don't want anybody for a mama but Loreli. That's all.”

Jake ran his hand over his head. Now what? he wondered. He was honest enough to admit the girls were right about Rebecca. She wouldn't make them a good mother. Her joyless outlook on life would stifle their buoyant spirits. He didn't want to come home after a long night away worrying whether Rebecca had strapped the girls, or had them standing in the corner for being themselves. In addition to the hogs that he raised and the crops that he grew, people in the area came to him all the time seeking help for their sick or injured animals. In trying to help his neighbors it was not uncommon for him to be away for hours on end in that capacity, and in his capacity as a delegate for the Republican party. No, Rebecca wouldn't do, and out of all fairness he needed to tell her that so she could get on with her life. In a way, he was glad he hadn't already asked her to be his wife because had they already been married when the girls first arrived this dilemma would be moot.

Jake stepped outside and found the girls tossing corn to the chickens. Suzie, a big brown hen, ruled the pens with such authority that at mealtime the three younger hens—Babe, Myrtle, and Peg—always let her feed first. The
pigs, cows, ducks and other animals gave the old biddy a wide berth as well. They seemed to know that Suzie was as mean as a winter on the plains and would challenge a bull if she got mad enough. Surprisingly, though, she seemed to love the girls. Dede especially. From the moment the girls came to live with Jake, Suzie seemed to sense their troubles and not once had she pecked them, chased them, or treated them as she did everyone else.

As Jake walked over to the pens, he called out to his nieces, “Hey, you two. Do you want to go into town? Maybe get some jawbreakers and some new hair ribbons?”

Their twin faces lit up with joy. “Yes!” they both squealed.

He grinned. “Then go wash your hands, and we'll get going.”

As they ran past him to head for the pump, he picked up the pail of corn and tossed a few more handfuls to the hens. Suzie, evidently having had her fill, stood back and let her companions have the feed. Jake, noting her magnanimous gesture, bowed her way. “Thank you, your majesty.”

Suzie responded by fixing him with a disdainful black-eyed stare.

Smiling, Jake tossed out a few more hands of corn, then went to hitch up the wagon.

One of the first things Jake learned about the girls when they came to live with him was that they loved to sing, especially on a trip in the wagon. Initially their repertoire had consisted of lullabies and silly children's ditties like “Pop Goes the Weasel,” and “Jimmy Crack Corn.” Thanks to blacksmith Arthur Gibson, who was also the organist at
the church, the twins now sang “Amazing Grace,” “Home on the Range,” and “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

They were singing that now, on their way into town, their heads thrown back, boisterously belting out the ringing refrain:
“His truth is marching on.”
Jake couldn't contain his grin.

When they were done, his heart was full as he looked into their shining, happy eyes. They'd come to mean a lot to him in the short time they'd been his, and if they wanted a mama—he'd get them one, come hell or high water.

A
fter breakfast in Mrs. Boyd's small dining room, Loreli, wearing a violet walking dress and a saucy matching that, strolled down the town's main walk—destination, the general store. She was almost out of hand cream. Although she doubted a town of this size would carry the brand she favored, she hoped to find a reasonable substitute.

Loreli received more than a few smiles and tips of the hat from the men she passed, and she smiled right back. She knew she was a good-looking woman, and admittedly enjoyed seeing that reflected in a man's eyes. This being such a small town, she was certain most of the residents knew about her connection to the mail-order brides by now. The men's smiles not withstanding, Loreli doubted their wives would be as welcoming. Local women took an immediate disliking to her. Most seemed threatened not only by her profession, coloring, and clothing but by her bold, independent approach to life. She remembered be
ing run out of a small town outside of Reno by a bunch of Bible-pounding harridans who accused her of planting the seeds of the devil in the minds of the local women. It seemed only the devil would advocate women wanting to vote, a subject that had come up in passing during a card game she'd had with some of the town fathers. Apparently, one of the men had gone home and mentioned the conversation to his wife. By morning, the local correctness society had pounded on the door of her rented room, demanding she leave town. Because Loreli knew she couldn't look to the law for help—sheriffs seldom intervened in such incidents—she packed up and took the next stage.

Now, as she neared the store, she forgot all about those women. Her face brightened on seeing Zora Post, one of her bride friends from the wagon train, coming toward her on the walk.

A gleeful Zora squealed, “Loreli!”

As the two women embraced, the short, brown-skinned Zora said, “I thought you'd already left for California.”

“Missed the train. I'll try it again on Friday. How's married life?”

“It's only been two days, but surprisingly well. His name's Cyrus Buxton. He's very nice.” She gave a wry, knowing smile. “
Very
nice.”

Both women laughed.

Still grinning, Loreli tossed back, “Did anyone get a chance to talk with Belle before she left?” Loreli's young wagon mate had been taken advantage of and impregnated by one of her father's clerical colleagues before the trip to Kansas. Belle had been very afraid that the groom she'd contracted to marry in Hanks would send her back
to Chicago once he discovered she was carrying another man's child, but he hadn't.

“She's doing fine, far as I know. She and the husband will be living on a place about fifty miles north of here. I'm going up to help out when the baby comes.”

It saddened Loreli to think she might never see her young friend again, but it pleased Loreli to know that Belle had married a man who truly cared.

Loreli could see some of the local people looking on curiously as she and Zora continued to talk. A few women hastily averted their eyes, as if the faces of Loreli and Zora might blind them.

Zora must have noticed the women's action's too. “I've heard there's a bunch of biddies not happy with our arrival here. Calling us hussies for agreeing to marry men we'd never seen.”

“Ignore them. I always do.”

“Oh, I plan to. A good number of the brides are living within spitting distance of each other—we'll make our own way.”

Loreli grinned. “I raised you all well, it seems.”

Zora nodded. “That you did, constable. That you did.”

During the brides's journey from Chicago, Loreli had been voted the constable. It became her job to settle disputes, preside over meetings, and keep everyone pulling together. She'd even foiled, single-handedly, a group of nasty outlaws intent upon doing the women harm.

Zora then said, “Too bad you won't be around to eat at the restaurant I'm going to open, though.”

“A restaurant?”

Zora beamed proudly. “Yep. You know I always
wanted to own one, and now, with my new husband's help, I can.”

“That's wonderful,” Loreli exclaimed. Zora's pepper pot had kept the brides fed during the month-long trip to Kansas. “Where's the restaurant going to be?”

“Cyrus owns a small plot on the edge of town. We've decided to build it there.”

Loreli was impressed by Zora's big plans. “I hope it'll be so successful there'll be people lined up from here to Kansas City wanting to get in. Just be sure to serve those old biddies burnt crow, though.”

Zora laughed. For the next few moments they talked about the fates of the other brides, and then it was time to part.

“Listen, I have to get going,” Zora said. “Cyrus is waiting for me over at the bank. He's a clerk there.”

As the two women shared a farewell embrace, Loreli whispered emotionally, “Take care of yourself, Zora. Tell the others I send my love.”

“I sure will, Loreli. You take care as well. And leave those men some of their money once you get to California.”

Loreli laughed. “I'll think about it.”

As a waving Zora strode off toward the bank, Loreli felt as if a very important part of her life would be left behind when she boarded the train on Friday, and it made her uncharacteristically sad. Shaking off the sudden pang of melancholy, she went into the general store.

She spotted the short, balding Bert Green first off. He was wearing an oil-cloth apron over his shirt and trousers, and was leaning over the counter talking with an older, brown-skinned woman wearing an ugly blue bonnet.
When Green looked up and saw Loreli, his face took on what was for her a familiar expression of panic. Loreli simply shook her head. She'd be willing to bet he hadn't expected to see her in the light of day. In small towns like this, a gambling woman was only one step up from a saloon whore, and it was obvious from his reaction that he didn't want to acknowledge their previous association. Loreli sighed at the unfairness of it all, but since there was nothing to be done about it, she gave him a short, impersonal nod, then took a slow walk around the place to see what he stocked on his shelves.

Stepping around a big wooden pickle barrel, and another barrel holding crackers, she made her way past canned goods, potted meat, dress goods, guns, and feed. In the ladies toiletries section, she found quite a variety of hand creams, but not her brand. He did stock bottles of Lundborg's perfumes, and the sight of her favorite scent, Alpine Violet, made her smile. She carried the perfume and a jar of the hand cream to the counter, where two women were now being waited on by Green. The older woman wearing the ugly bonnet had been joined by another lady, who must have purchased the red-checkered headdress she wore in the same place.

Intending to patiently wait her turn, Loreli stepped in behind them. As she did, the two slowly turned and made a big show of critically eyeing her up and down, from her violet hat to her black high-heeled boots. Their silent disapproval echoed as loud and as clear as the dismissive snort they emitted before turning back to Green.

A bit peeved, Loreli wondered if the two were part of the biddy-contingent denouncing the new brides. From the sour looks on their pursed, prune faces, she'd be will
ing to bet they were. “And good morning to you too, ladies,” Loreli drawled sarcastically. She saw their shoulders stiffen. Evidently they hadn't planned on their rudeness being challenged. Loreli added, “Lovely day, isn't it?”

She heard them fumbling to mumble something appropriate.

Loreli turned her cold golden eyes on Green. He met her gaze nervously, as if worried about being exposed, but Loreli had no such plans. “Is this the correct price?” she asked him, holding up the bottle of perfume for him to see.

He stuttered, “Uh-uh, yes, it is, Miss. Would you like to purchase it?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Forty-seven cents, please.”

Ignoring the two tight-lipped biddies, Loreli handed over her money for the perfume and the hand cream. Green gave her back the change, which she placed in her handbag. “Thank you,” she said.

“You're welcome,” he returned, smiling falsely.

Loreli again shook her head at the hypocrisy in the world, then turned to leave. She'd met many Bert Greens in her day, and would probably meet many more before the Lord called her home, but it didn't mean she had to like it.

Her mood immediately brightened at the sight of the twins sauntering into the store.

“Loreli!” they squealed in unison. They ran to her, wrapping their little arms around her waist and clung to her for all they were worth. A laughing Loreli bent to hug them as well. “How are you?”

When Jake Reed walked into the store that's how he found them. Loreli and the girls froze. It was obvious from the tight set of his jaw that he didn't like the picture they presented. His frigid eyes met Loreli's. Still holding the girls, she straightened, intending to give him a good piece of her mind if he said one out-of-line word.

He spoke coolly, “Girls, why don't you have Mr. Green show you his new hair ribbons. I want to speak to Miss Winters outside.”

The girls looked up at Loreli with worried eyes, and she reassured them in soft tones, “It's okay. Go see about those ribbons. Your uncle and I need to talk.”

The girls turned to go, but not before looking back at their uncle, then again at Loreli.

Mr. Green came out from behind the counter and said kindly, “Come on with me, girls. Just got a new shipment of pretty new ribbons yesterday.”

Loreli and Jake faced each other across the floor like gunfighters in the street at high noon. The biddies were openly staring.

Jake gestured to the door. Loreli stepped outside.

Hand on her hip, she waited for him to begin.

“You know the girls are set on you being their mother. You also know you can't be, so why are you teasing them like this? All this hugging and running into you is not helping them.”

“They pounced on me like they hadn't seen me in six years,” Loreli replied coldly. “What was I supposed to do, cuff them and send them on their way?”

His eyes flashed angrily.

Loreli told him, “Being mad at me is not going to change how those girls feel.”

“You can't be their mother.”

“Who said I wanted to be?”

The air between them fairly crackled.

He made a visible show of calming himself. “Look,” he began—both he and Loreli could see passersby viewing them curiously, but ignored them—“this mother thing is very important to them.”

Loreli waited. “And?”

He ran his hands over his hair. “And…I don't know what the hell to do about it.”

Loreli went silent for a moment. “At least you're being honest with yourself. First time?”

He shot her a quelling look.

She raised her hands in innocence, “Sorry. Man like you doesn't impress me as needing to be honest.”

“Why not?”

“You've got life all figured out. Arrogance, is how I believe Mr. Webster's dictionary defines it.”

“And you're not?”

“Of course I am. I'm a woman in a man's world. I have to be arrogant. What's your excuse?”

“I'm a Colored man trying to hold on to his land.”

Impressed, Loreli searched his eyes. “You're not as thick-headed as I thought, Reed.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Please do.”

It was his turn to search her eyes. “Is there anything that scares you?”

“Sure. Lots of things.”

“Such as?”

Loreli paused. He was arrogant enough to believe he had a right to ask something so private, but she was gutsy
enough to tell him the truth. “Dying alone. What scares you?”

“Not raising those girls the way my sister would have wanted them raised.”

His honesty made Loreli wonder why he'd revealed such a truth to her, a woman he'd known only a few days. On the other hand, she'd revealed a truth about herself and could find no reason as to why. She did know that they'd just exchanged tiny parts of their souls. As a result, something touched her inside, but she wasn't sure what it was.

When they glanced up, the twins were standing in the store's doorway, watching them. Bebe asked, “Can Loreli have supper with us tonight, Uncle Jake?”

Loreli answered before he could reply, “I can't, pumpkin. I've made other plans.” She hadn't really, but Jake was right, she needed to distance herself so the girls would stop wishing on her. She didn't want to analyze how pushing them away made her feel. “So give me a hug. This'll probably be the last time we see each other. I'll be heading off to California on Friday.”

Both girls gave Loreli a hug, and she hugged them in return. When they stepped back, she touched each head lovingly, then stuck out her hand to Jake. “Pleasure meeting you.”

Her gesture seemed to throw him a bit. There was confusion on his face as he looked first at her outstretched hand and then back up into her sparkling eyes.

Loreli couldn't resist teasing him. “Not accustomed to shaking hands with a woman, Reed?”

His eyes emotionless, he grasped her hand and shook it. “Have a safe trip, Miss Winters.”

He gently herded the twins back into the store, leaving Loreli to watch their departure wistfully.

 

“Uncle Jake, were you mean to Loreli?” Dede asked Jake on the ride back home.

Surprised by Dede's uncharacteristic boldness, he glanced her way and replied, “I don't think so.”

As if she needed further explanation, Bebe asked him, “Why can't Loreli be our mama?”

He didn't hesitate. “She's not a proper lady.”

“Why not?”

“Well, she's a gambler for one.”

Dede asked, “What's a gambler?”

“A person who plays cards for a living. That's not a job a woman should have.”