NoRegretsColeNC (20 page)

Chapter
Fourteen

Hattie
turned to walk away, but not before Molly’s hand came up. The slap caught her
on the cheek and sent her reeling.

“How
dare you speak to me that
way.
”

“I’m
only being honest. It’s never wrong to speak the truth, you know.” She lifted
her chin.

Suddenly
the sheriff was between them, pushing them apart. “What’s going on here,
ladies?” he asked. With the two young women a safe distance from one another,
he tipped his hat and addressed them both with his sternest look. “I won’t have
this sort of behavior from either of you. I don’t know what it’s about, who’s
right, who’s wrong, or who started this little cat fight. I could probably make
a few good guesses, especially on the latter, but that’s beside the point.” He
glared at Molly as he spoke. “It’s over and done with now. I want both of you
to go home, and if I ever see either of you talking to the other, for any
reason…” He stopped and pushed the hat back on his head as he drew in a long
breath. “In fact,” he finally continued, “if I ever see either of you
approaching the other, or one of you looking at the other, I’ll—”

“You’ll
do what, Caleb? Arrest us? Throw us in jail?” Molly sidled up close to the
sheriff. “You’d never do such a thing to either one of us. You’re all talk, you
know.” She reached up, traced a finger along the edge of his jaw, and giggled.
“Hattie Mae and I were just having a little chat, and yes, I suppose I let my
emotions get the best of me, but like you said, it’s over and done with now, so
how about you and I step down the street and have a bite to eat at the café?”
She grabbed his arm and waved Hattie away.

Once
again, Miss Munro was getting off scot-free. Hattie groaned. Suddenly somebody
grabbed her arm. She whirled around, surprised to see Dr. Kellerman standing at
her side.

“What
are you doing here? You and your wife went visiting.”

“I was
called back to tend to a sick child. I expected to find my nurse on duty at the
hospital, not gallivanting around town, getting into trouble.”

As the
sheriff marched off with Molly, her wide hips sashaying as she walked, the
doctor tightened his grip on Hattie’s arm and led her toward home.

“It
wasn’t my fault!”

“I’m
sure she started it, but that’s no call to make a scene, Miss Richards,
especially not in your condition.”

Her
condition! How many times were the good folks of Sunset going to throw those
words in her face?

She
attempted to pull her arm away, but his grip remained firm.

“You
don’t need to hold on to me as though I were a child.”

“All
right,” he replied, letting go. “You were acting like one, you know. Now, it’s
time to put a stop to all the nonsense. It’s time to grow up, accept your
responsibilities, and do the right thing.”

Miffed
by his remarks, Hattie almost spat out a few hateful words, but she knew that
would only prove his point. She was, indeed, acting like a child. Yet how dare
he accuse her of shirking responsibility!

Fuming,
she walked alongside him, hurrying her pace to keep up with his long-legged
strides.

“Go
upstairs to your room,” he ordered when they reached the hospital. “We’ll talk
later when Mrs. Kellerman returns.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Still
fuming, Hattie climbed the staircase and slammed the door to her room.

* * *
*

It was
late afternoon before Dr. Kellerman summoned her to the parlor. His wife looked
up from her crewel work when Hattie stepped into the room.

“Sit
down, Miss Richards.” The physician pointed to a comfortable chair, upholstered
in a lovely floral pattern. Although the parlor always had a warm coziness
about it, the man’s formal bearing indicated that this would be a serious
meeting, not a pleasant social occasion. He cleared his throat. “We’ve put this
off long enough,” he said, turning to Charlotte. “Do you want to handle it,
dear, or are you going to leave it to me?”

“Handle
what?” At once, all of Hattie’s senses came alive, flashing warning messages to
her brain. She jumped to her feet, but the doctor stood before her, blocking
any hope of escape. She pressed her lips together, gave the couple an uneasy
look, and then slowly backed down into the upholstered chair once more. She crossed
her arms over her chest and tucked in her chin, ready to protect herself, her
child, and her uncertain future.

The
doctor bore down upon her. “News travels, especially news of a scandalous
nature. You knew your condition wouldn’t remain a secret for long.”

“I
never said a word to anyone. I don’t know how the ladies in town found out.”
She glared at Charlotte. “Did you tell them?”

“No,
Hattie, I promised to keep your secret, and I did. Some secrets have a way of
coming to light, though. Women are quick to notice even the slightest signs.
It’s often easy to put two and two together.”

“I’m
not ashamed—”

“You
should be,” Dr. Kellerman pointed out. “You’ve dishonored the sacredness of
young womanhood, and worse, you seem to enjoy flaunting your wantonness.”

“Flaunting?”
Hattie’s ears burned. She’d done nothing to
flaunt
any wantonness. For that matter, she didn’t feel she possessed any wantonness.
As usual, Dr. Kellerman was aggrandizing the whole situation, making her out to
be the wickedest, most sinful woman who’d ever been put upon the earth. Not so.
In fact, it was so far from the truth, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you
find this amusing?” Charlotte
asked,
her voice
uncharacteristically gentle.

Dr.
Kellerman gave her no opportunity to reply. “It’s no laughing matter.”

“Sir, I
think—”

Again,
he cut her off quickly. “I’d hoped you would see the light sooner. It would
have been much easier had this been taken care of before the truth got out.
Now, there’s no way to salvage your reputation. The best that you can do now is
to remove yourself as quickly and quietly as possible. Once the baby has come
and you’ve regained your strength…” He let out a heavy sigh. “This is hard for
me, Hattie.” He now reverted to her given name. It added an emotional urgency to
his words. “In so many ways, you’ve become like a daughter to us.” Abner
lowered his head.

Hattie’s
heart ached. “I know you’re disappointed in me.”

“You
made a mistake.
A dreadful mistake.”
Charlotte came to
her. “That doesn’t mean we don’t care about you. We promised to help you, and
we will.”

“I’m
not asking for help.” Hattie squared her shoulders. “I’ll be all right. I can
deal with whatever happens.”

“No,
you can’t.” Abner shook his head. “We won’t let you deal with this alone.” He
crossed the room, opened the drawer of a small desk in the corner, and drew out
a thick envelope. “All the arrangements have been made. Tomorrow morning, we’re
taking you to Sunshine Women’s—”

“A
maternity home?
No.” Hattie stiffened. “I won’t go. I’ve already told you that I’m not giving
up my child.”

“It’s
the only choice you have.” Charlotte stared down at her hands. “You can’t stay
here any longer, Hattie. We can’t allow you to work here now. You need to
listen to reason. Take it from one who knows. You can’t keep your child. You
can’t raise your child alone.”

Tears
welled in Hattie’s eyes. “How can you do this to me?”

“We’re
doing it because we want the best for you.”

Dr.
Kellerman looked old and tired. “I’ve got some money for you.” He tapped the
envelope. “It will be enough to take care of all your expenses, and then some.
When the baby comes, you’ll be able to make a new start, and I can write a
letter of recommendation for you, help you get enrolled in a nursing school.
Isn’t that what you
were wanting
to do with your life?”

Confused,
Hattie barely managed to nod. “Yes, but that was before…”
Before
she became an expectant mother.
Before she realized how much having a
child would mean to her. “Everything’s different now.”

“It’s
going to be all right. You don’t have to sacrifice your dreams.” Charlotte
walked to the desk, picked up the envelope, and carried it to Hattie. “You’ll
need to sign these papers.”

“What
do they say?” Hattie could guess the contents. She didn’t want to touch the
hated envelope.

“This
will give you information about the home where you’ll be staying.” Charlotte
sighed, pulled out the packet, and glanced at it. “You’ll be identified only as
Miss HMR, so do be certain you take nothing with you that
has
your full name.”

“That’s
ridiculous.”

“It’s
for your benefit.” Charlotte continued perusing the document. “You won’t be
allowed to have any personal items of clothing, but suitable garments will be
provided for you. No money is allowed, either, so what we’re giving you will be
turned over to the director of the home. She will place it in safe-keeping for
you and give it to you when you’re released. As Abner has already told you, the
medical expenses have been covered.”

“I
don’t want to go. I don’t want to give my baby away.”

“No, of
course, you don’t
want
to do it, but
that’s precisely the point. Hattie, don’t you see how out of touch you are with
the reality of the situation? You’re living in this make-believe world,
thinking that you can somehow manage on your own. You’ve got these crazy
notions in your head but you don’t realize how selfish you’re being.” She made
disapproving
tut-tuts
as she peered
down at Hattie’s belly. “Look at what you’ve done. You’re pregnant. You’ve
engaged in socially-unacceptable behaviors. That, in itself, proves you’re
unfit to raise a child.”

“You
raised your children on your own.”

Since
learning the truth about the doctor and his wife, she’d come to see the couple
in a much different light than before. Hattie found it disconcerting when they
chose to counsel her on proper behavior as though they, themselves, were
paragons of virtue.

Even
though she showed due respect to the physician, she no longer held him in the
same high esteem as before. He was a good man, and he deserved recognition for
his ability to treat sickness, but she could not revere him as she’d once done.
As for his wife, Hattie felt more disgust than pity. She knew Charlotte’s life
had been difficult, yet she could have made better choices, in Hattie’s
opinion.

“Yes, I
raised Tom and Sally, and I did a piss-poor job of it. I gave them a life of
poverty and hardship. I burdened them with the stigma of my sins. I beg of you,
Hattie, don’t do that to your child.”

Hattie’s
head pounded. Some of what Charlotte said made sense…didn’t it? Or had she
become so lost, so out of touch, as the woman put it, that she could no longer
distinguish between right and wrong?

“Get
some rest tonight,” Dr. Kellerman advised, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll leave at dawn tomorrow.”

“Abner, help Hattie to the desk,
please. The inkwell’s filled. Show her where she needs to sign.
It’s
best,” she suggested, “that we get this all taken care
of now.
Less to deal with tomorrow that way.”

Hattie drew in a breath. With one
simple stroke of a pen, the child she carried would no longer belong to her.
She felt helpless. As a little girl, she’d been surrounded by caretakers at the
home, adults who knew all the answers to all of life’s problems. She’d listened
carefully and had always taken their advice to heart.

“Necessity
never makes a good bargain,” she muttered. But, then again, what would Benjamin
Franklin know about having babies…or giving them away. Her hand trembled as she
took the pen.

She
woke early the next morning, long before the sun was up. The Kellermans were
still sleeping, as well. Alone in her upstairs room, Hattie walked slowly
about, taking it all in and committing it to memory. This room had given her
happiness with its wide windows that let in the bright sunlight, its gleaming
white walls, and its cheery polished floors and colorful braided rugs.

Yes,
she had been happy there, and she’d found meaning and purpose to life while
working for the Kellermans. Her true joy, however, had come with Willie. He’d
taught her to believe in herself, to speak her mind, and to do what she knew in
her heart was right.

She had
no regrets about their liaison.

Neither
would she make apologies. Up to that time, her life had held few pleasures. She
would never begrudge the joys she’d found in Willie’s embrace, the delights
she’d known in his touch. Let the women of Sunset speak ill of her. She would
forever cherish the memories of the desires Willie had sparked within her. All
the while she’d thought it her duty to restore
him,
he’d been the one who’d truly brought her to life, the one who had shown her a
world she’d never known existed.

She
would not be sorry.

Placing
a hand to her belly, Hattie Mae
sniffled
back
uncertain tears. No reason to cry, she told herself. No reason other than being
a woman, having a new life growing inside of her, being wholly at the mercy of
her body and its crazy new demands upon her.

Would
her new home—wherever it might be—offer her the same solace, the same
cheeriness, the same belief that each new dawn held promise, that each new day
gave reason to expect the best?

Yes, of
course.
For those things came from within her.
Hope
arose not from a ray of morning sunshine streaming through a curtained window,
but from the joy that lived in her own heart. A positive outlook on life didn’t
require colorful rugs underfoot or charming pictures on the wall.

Her
doubts receded. She was leaving behind nothing of value.

Except
Willie.

Hattie
sighed and wondered again if she were making the right choice. He had proposed.
Why had she turned him down? She loved him, after all. She was carrying his
child.

But he
wasn’t ready for marriage. His heart held too much anger, too much bitterness,
and far too little forgiveness.

With
valise in hand, Hattie closed the door behind her.

* * *
*

The
wintry winds of December nearly knocked Willie off his feet as he stepped out
from the law office onto the street. Since returning to Sunset with his mother,
he’d resumed clerking for George Whitmore. It was impossible, though, to
concentrate on either work or study.

The cat
was out of the bag, so to speak, and damn it! He was talking in adages same as
Hattie Mae had done, and where in the hell was she?

He
limped along the icy walk, clutching at the cane his mother insisted he use. He
hated it. It made him feel like a feeble old man, but if it saved him from
slipping and falling, it was worth the humiliation, he supposed. Another of the
prices he had to pay for all his misdeeds.

As he’d
done each evening for the past week, he headed toward Abner Kellerman’s
hospital, not for any medical advice or treatment, but for yet another attempt
to see Hattie. He understood her reasons for remaining hidden, but to his mind,
he had every right to see her, to check on her condition, to share this event
with her.

Abner
and Charlotte Kellerman were wrong to deny him.

But…supposing
he
did
need medical help? Willie
grinned, pleased with his own cleverness.

Instead
of going around to the residence as he usually did, that evening he rang the
bell at the hospital entry. He couldn’t be turned away there…at least, not without
giving him grounds to stir up a hell of a lot of trouble. Folks around Sunset
were reluctant enough to visit the hospital. Let word get out that the doctor
was picking and choosing whom to treat, and Dr. Kellerman could close the doors
and board up the windows.

Mrs.
Kellerman eyed him with disdain when she saw him. “We’ve told you, Willie—”

“My
leg’s been hurting me.
Thought it would be good to have the
doctor take a look at it."
He lifted the cane and rapped it on the
floor. “Can’t get around too well, I’m afraid.”

“The
hell you say.” Charlotte might behave like a proper lady around others in town,
but she didn’t bother putting on the act with him. He knew too much about her.
Or maybe she just didn’t consider his opinion of her to matter. “I know why you’re
here, Willie.”

“Of
course you know. I just told you.
The leg.”
He pointed
to it. “Are you going to call the doctor, or do you plan to look at it
yourself? Should I take off my pants?”

“Have a
seat. I’ll get Dr. Kellerman.”

“Maybe
you could send a nurse in to help me get settled.”

“We no
longer have a nurse. Excuse me. I’ll be back with the doctor.”

Willie
had just taken his seat when Charlotte spoke. Never mind his bad leg. He flew
off the chair and grabbed the woman by the arm.

“What
do you mean? Hattie’s not working here now?” Rational thought took over. “No,
of course she isn’t still working. It’s good for her to rest.”

Charlotte
stared down at his hand. “Let go of me, Willie.”

“Yes,
of course. I’m sorry.”

“And
the leg’s still bothering you? You didn’t have much trouble getting up.”

“Mrs.
Kellerman, please. Sure, the leg does bother me, but you’re right, of course.
That’s not why I’m here. I want to see Hattie. Is that too much to ask?” He
dropped his hand from her arm.

She
must have taken pity on him. “You know, Willie, I did put in a word for you. I
tried to persuade her to do the right thing and marry you. She wouldn’t
listen.”

“Maybe
if I keep asking enough times, she’ll finally consent. Please, may I see her?”

Charlotte
shook her head. “No, you can’t. She’s not here.”

“Not
here?” The words didn’t register. “What do you mean? Where else would she be?”

“She
left Sunset.
About a week ago, in fact.”

“And?
Where did she go?”

“I
can’t tell you.”

“You
must. I have to know. I have to find her and bring her back.”

“I
don’t know where she is, and that’s the honest truth.” Charlotte’s clear blue
eyes held a touch of sadness, enough to convince Willie that she was being
straight with him. “We made arrangements for her at a home. Dr. Kellerman gave
her quite a bit of money, as well, money he intended for her to have…later,
when everything was resolved.”

“After
she gave up the baby?
Is that what you mean?”

Charlotte
nodded. “Hattie did sign the papers, Willie. She took them, took the money, and
she left on her own. But she didn’t go to the home. We contacted them. Of
course, no names are allowed, and she could have registered using any initials
she chose.”

“No,
she wouldn’t do it. Hattie would never give the child up.”

“It
would be best for everyone if she did, Willie.”

The
thought of Hattie surrendering her child—
their
child—sickened him. Suddenly he doubted Charlotte’s veracity. She knew where
Hattie was. These reformed do-gooders had packed her up and carted her away.

“I’ll
find her.” Willie turned, snatched up the cane he’d left resting against the
chair, and shook it in the air. “I don’t care how long it takes, how far I have
to go, or what I have to do. I will find her.”

Mrs.
Kellerman shook her head. “No, you won’t, and I’ll tell you why. She doesn’t
want to be found.”

Fighting
to keep his temper in check, Willie stomped out of the hospital. Cane in hand,
he hobbled his way down from the porch. His anger grew.

Damn
it, why was he the last to know? Why hadn’t the Kellermans told him straight
away that Hattie was gone? For that matter, why didn’t Hattie come to him and
let him know she was leaving?

She doesn’t want to be found.

In no
mood to return home and listen to his mother’s usual litany of complaints,
Willie headed instead for the Red Mule. He hadn’t had a shot of whiskey in
months, and damn, but his throat was parched.

In his
head, he could hear Hattie’s voice. She’d sure enough give him a stern
lecture…if she were there.

“You’re
not here. That’s the damned problem.” He muttered the words aloud, ignored the
odd looks of passersby as he turned up the collar of his jacket, and marched
down the street.

Not
that he meant to get drunk. No point in that. A man could pay a visit to a
saloon, jaw with his friends a bit, have a sociable drink—or two—and then head
home, sober. A shot of whiskey would calm his
nerves,
help him figure out what to do next. Maybe a second shot might even dull the
pain a bit.

Who was
he kidding? The aching in his chest grew worse moment by moment. His heart
pounded. He sagged against an icy storefront, almost doubled over from the
agony.

“You
all right, mister?”

A young
boy—probably no more than eleven or twelve—tapped him on the shoulder. “Want me
to go get Doc Kellerman?”

“No,
just get the hell away from me.” He shoved himself up. “I’ll be all right.”

“You
don’t look all right.” The boy squinted at him. “Hey, you’re that old drunk,
aren’t you?”

“What?
No. I’m not old. And I’m not a drunkard.”

“Yeah,
you are. The one what nearly got
yourself
killed last
spring. I was there. I saw it happen.”

“So,
you want a reward or something?” Willie straightened his shoulders and lifted
the cane. “Just go away. Leave me alone.”

The boy
shook his head and trudged away through drifts of snow lining the streets.

Willie
lumbered on, and moments later, he pushed his way through the swinging doors of
the Red Mule saloon, his throat dry, his nerves taut, and his heart still
aching.

“Jake
Walker,” he called, nodding toward the saloon’s owner. “I need a word with
you.” The man had connections. Walker knew somebody who knew somebody in every
town in the state. More than once, folks had called upon the man to help track
down an old friend, a family member who’d gone off and not returned, or a loved
one. “I need your help.”

* * *
*

Despite
his best efforts, Willie’s hopes of finding Hattie grew dimmer with each
passing day. He contacted homes for unwed mothers. Records were private. No
names were used.

No word
came in response to Jake Walker’s efforts, either. Willie had given him all the
information he could, but it wasn’t enough. It was a wide, wide world. Hattie
could be anywhere.

He went
to the post every day, hoping there might be a letter waiting from her.

She doesn’t want to be found
.

Charlotte’s
words rang over and over in his head.

He
couldn’t work, couldn’t keep up with his studies, couldn’t do much of anything
other than inquire about Hattie.

Before
the month was out, he’d quit his job—Whitmore was about to dismiss him
anyway—and his afternoons and evenings were spent at the saloon. He didn’t have
much money, but there were always prospectors from the nearby mines or rowdy
cowboys who liked to throw a few coins around and buy drinks for the house.

Little
by little, he was slipping back into his old ways. He saw it happening, but he
didn’t know how to stop it.

Without
Hattie, what difference did it make how he lived his life?

At
least he had a place to sleep. The house in Denver had sold, and his mother had
paid Tansy Godwin weeks in advance from the settlement she’d received. He’d
finally figured out that his mother and father had ways to keep in touch. Even
though she had no idea where he was, she knew he was dying. Consequently, she
ignored Willie and his problems. Her concern was only for her husband. She had
nothing left over to give to her son, and that suited Willie just fine.