Shameful Celia (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 3) (3 page)

“
I
’ve never been married
because I’m too busy sorting everyone else’s life out.” He glowered at Mrs. Hershey. “This woman is in need of lodging. I’ll speak with you later about the details.”

She smiled strangely, her attention drifting between us. “I’ll go see about Doctor Baker. Don’t trouble yourself with that.”

We were nearly out the door. “Thank you. We’ll be in the restaurant after I get the key from Buddy.” His hand fell to my back. “Off we go.”

“Thank you again, sir. I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

“It’s my job to take care of people,” he murmured.

Strolling past the nave of the church, my eyes skimmed over empty pews, noting light green walls with ornate, white trim. “This is pretty.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

The pews were stained oak, the wood new smelling. “I’m fond of church, cause I love to sing. Haven’t been in ages, though. I had to put the horse down after she injured her foot. Walking ten miles in my condition made everything a chore and a half.”

“I can imagine.”

“How long have you lived in Boot Creek?”

“Five years.”

Leaving the church, we emerged into the yard, with a busy thoroughfare just beyond the white picket fence. Several people strolled by, paying us little notice, although a few greeted the pastor.

“Hello, Kinsley. How goes it, preacher?” asked a rough-looking man in a wrinkled tow shirt and vest. A six-shooter hung from each hip.

“It’s good, Lamont, and you?”

“Things are as fair as can be expected.” He eyed me. “Who’s this ragamuffin?”

“She’s new to town.” He steered me onward, not wanting to stop to talk. “Have a good day, Lamont.”

“You too, pastor.”

“Ragamuffin?” I muttered. “I guess I must be a sight. Haven’t seen a mirror in years. Don’t know what I look like, really.”

“It’s of little consequence.” We neared the Men’s Emporium, which was an enormous two-story building with wide windows. We did not enter from the front, as Nicolas led me down a narrow alleyway to the back. “The living quarters are only accessible here. Buddy doesn’t want the tenants going through the store.”

“Oh.”

The rear of the building faced what looked like a warehouse. “A garden.” Someone had fenced in an impressive array of vegetables, the greenery brimming with tomatoes, beans, broccoli, and carrots.

“This belongs to the Wexler’s.” A high fence surrounded the garden; the latch had been secured with a heavy-looking lock.

“Looks mighty good to me. Best looking garden I’ve ever seen.”

He held open a door. “Mrs. Wexler gives away what they can’t eat. She’s a generous woman. I’m sure she’ll offer you produce sooner than later. It’s a shame to let perfectly good food spoil. I’ve eaten plenty of tomato sandwiches.”

“Gosh, I sure hope so. I love tomato sandwiches.” We stood in a small entryway, facing a staircase. “This looks clean.” The wooden walls held hints of rain damage.

“I’ll get the key. Wait right here.”

I stared after him, thinking he was possibly the most handsome man I had ever met.
He’s just being kind because he’s a preacher. Don’t go getting any strange ideas about him, Celia.
“I’m not,” I whispered to myself. “He’s a breath of fresh air, though.”

“Pardon?” Nicolas approached, smiling. “You say something?”

“I just think the air smells awfully nice around here, sir.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I suppose.” Pointing to the stairs, he said, “After you.”

Grasping the banister, I took the first step. “Thank you.”

The second floor revealed a short, dark hallway with several doors on either side. Nicolas unlocked a door on the end, exposing a blackened interior. “I’ll just open the curtain here.” Pushing aside the heavy drapes, light streamed in, falling across a thin carpet. The sparse furnishings included a small bed with a slightly stained mattress and a dresser. “It’s not much, but I’ll bring you some linens. I’ve a maid that comes twice a week to wash things.” He glanced at my dress. “She could take care of your clothing, as well. No charge.”

“I can’t remember the last time this was washed.”

He nodded. “Yes, it could use some … freshening up.” Moving towards the door, he said, “Let me show you the water closet. It’s for the tenants to use at will.”

“What’s a water closet?”

“I’ll show you.” At the end of the hallway, he opened a door. “This is a water closet. Mrs. Wexler spared no expense here. We’ve indoor plumbing and a working loo.”

My mouth fell open. “You don’t say.” I gazed at the copper tub encased in a carved wooden cabinet. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“No need to go out to use the privy.”

“I sure am looking forward to this.” I ogled the contraption on the loo. “I hope I don’t break anything. It looks complicated.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Now, let me get your bedding.”

Wandering to a mirror that hung over a ceramic bowl, a woman with grayish skin and dark eyes stared back at me. I hadn’t seen myself in years, and shocked, I could only stare. The unhappy realization came hard and fast. I was not especially pretty, nor clean.
You are a ragamuffin.

“Gracious be, I’m a sight.” Most of my hair remained hidden beneath the bonnet, but the strands near my forehead were a dullish brown. “Maybe I shouldn’t look in mirrors.” I turned the other way, feeling disheartened by what I had seen.

“I’ve got your things.” Nicolas appeared in the doorway. “Let’s make your bed, so I can take you across the street for a bite to eat.”

“You’ve been really nice to me, sir.”

“It’s nothing.” He grinned. “It’s my job to help those in need. You’re not the first person I’ve assisted, Mrs. Wellington. You won’t be the last.”

I followed him to my room, watching as he made the bed, accomplishing the task quickly. A simple looking blanket and a thin pillow now lay upon the mattress.

“Thank you.”

“Let’s grab a bite. I’m starving myself.”

“I can pay for the room. I got some money from selling my land.”

“Don’t trouble yourself about that right now.” He moved towards the doorway. “Let’s have a meal, and then I’ll introduce you to Mrs. Wexler. She’ll want to meet her newest tenant.”

“Who lives here besides you?”

“An elderly lady and a young couple with a baby. You’ll meet them all shortly.”

“All right.”

He led me to the staircase and down, exiting via the back door. “Walking through an alleyway to get to and from your house isn’t exactly dignified, but that’s what living in town’s all about, I suppose.”

“I don’t mind it in the least.” The space between the buildings looked litter free, and I had not seen a single rat.

After emerging onto the street, he guided me across to the hotel, where a restaurant occupied the first floor. It being late afternoon, there were few people in the dining room, and the waitress seated us immediately. Never having eaten in such a fancy place, I felt awkward, wondering if everyone had turned to stare at me, because I felt a prick of discomfort.

A menu came my way. “Thank you.”

The waitress wore a crisp white apron. “The special today is Porterhouse Steak with cress and chip potatoes. The soup of the day is Onion.”

My mouth watered. “I’ll have the special. That sounds real nice.”

“I’ll have the chicken with mushrooms.”

“Oh! That’s delicious too.”

He grinned. “You can have a bite, if you wish. I'm not all that hungry.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have coffee,” said Nicolas.

“What is there to drink?”

“We’ve got hot chocolate, mulled cider punch, grape juice, lemonade, sarsaparilla, and ginger beer.”

“I’ll take the mulled cider punch, please.”

She smiled politely. “I’ll give the cook your order.”

After she had left, I gazed at Pastor Kinsley, finding his attention elsewhere. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?” Those intriguing blue eyes focused on me.

“I was born in Cass County, Missouri. I’m the middle child of fifteen brothers and sisters.”

I snorted. “Gosh, that’s a lot.”

“Yes, my family was rather large.”

“Is that why you left, to escape them?”

“No, that’s not why I left.”

“What brought you to Boot Creek?”

“After I finished seminary school, a friend of mine was heading west. I thought I’d join him.”

“For adventure? Did you think you might kill some Indians?”

“No, Celia. That’s not the reason.”

“Most of the Indians are gone now anyway. I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the government, but I think it’s shameful what they did.” I lowered my voice. “I don’t agree with the Indian Removal Act. It led to nothing but wars and senseless killing.” This was a topic I felt passionate about, hating the policy that had been signed into law by President Andrew Jackson. “If you ask me, they could’ve handled that better.”

Now I had his complete attention. “It was inevitable. It’s tragic, but there’s nothing stopping westward expansion.”

“Chief Justice Marshall said the Cherokees were their own nation. They were here long before us white folks showed up. My grandparents came over from Ireland. My ma was Irish. Most people came from somewhere else. It’s wrong to toss people off their own land.”

“You do hold some strong opinions, Mrs. Wellington.”

“Lloyd got the newspaper once a month. I’ve had some schooling, so I can read just fine. I used to read them papers back to back, even the advertisements for soap and baking power.”

“I see.”

“I do love to read. If I ever get enough money, I’m buying a book or two. I’ve read a book before, but I had to hurry on account that it belonged to my pa’s friend. We were at their place for supper.”

“You read a book in one sitting?”

“Yes, I did. It was awfully good too.”

“Do you remember the name?”

“Yes, of course. ‘Rip Van Winkle’.”

“You read that in one evening?”

“I started after supper. It was less than two hundred pages. So I read about fifty pages an hour. I think we left around ten.”

He sat back in the chair, eyeing me. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Expecting what?”

“It just goes to show you shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover.”

Then it dawned on me what he meant. “I look a fright, I know. I can’t help it. I’m always trying to improve myself, but it’s hard when you don’t have any money. I’m hoping I’ll end up on my feet soon enough. I know there won’t be too many men who’ll want to raise somebody else’s baby, but I really need to find a daddy for this little boy.” I patted my belly.

“Little boy?”

I nodded. “I know I’m having a boy.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” I smiled brightly, delighted that I had his full attention and he hadn’t chastised me for some of my radical ideas. Lloyd would berate me sideways and upside down for implying the government dealt wrongly with the Indians. I spied the waitress approaching carrying a tray laden with something that smelled delicious. “Oh, my stars! So much food in one place.” My happiness could not be contained. “It’s like Christmas, Pastor Kinsley.”

The waitress placed the dishes before us. “I do believe I’m going to enjoy watching you eat,” he chuckled.

I wasn’t able to speak, having thrust a heaping forkful of beef into my mouth, listening to him offer up a prayer before he reached for his fork. “Mum … oh … mum ... ”

I
collapsed onto the bed
, the springs beneath the mattress creaking. “I’ve never been so full in my entire life.” But it felt glorious.

Pastor Kinsley stood in the doorway. “You’re welcome.”

“The baby’s kicking up a storm. He’s squirming all inside me. He’s so happy for the food too. You should feel it. He’s gotten so big, I can feel him turning all the way around inside there sometimes.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Lifting myself onto an elbow, while holding my head in the palm of my hand, I gazed at Nicolas. “You’re a very nice man. I sure am astonished you’re not married. I can’t imagine a girl refusing you after a meal like that.”

Before he could say anything, a woman appeared behind him. “Here are the towels, sir.”

“Thank you, May.” He handed them to me. “For your bath.”

“I can’t wait to try that newfangled, indoor plumbing. It’s a treat to use the privy without worrying about falling in.”

“It’s a novelty, all right. You’ll find soap and things for washing. I’m going to leave you now, Celia. I’ve some matters to contend with, and I need to find Mrs. Hershey. You’ve yet to see a doctor.”

“Oh, the baby’s just fine. He’s happy as a clam with all that food.”

He nodded, grinning. “Try not to drown in the bath, will you?”

“I can’t swim. I sure hope I can keep my head above water.”

“And lock the door. You don’t want someone walking in on you. It’s a communal sort of thing, so you should be mindful of that. Always knock before entering as well.”

“Good advice.”

“I’ll see you soon then.”

“Will there be an enormous supper?”

“I’ll talk to Mrs. Hershey about that. I’m not sure what she’s got planned. Your meals will have to be arranged, since this is not a room and board arrangement. I have a small kitchen and so do the other tenants, but this is the smallest apartment in the building.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t look so crestfallen, Celia. We won’t let you starve.”

“I’ve always starved. A meal like that would’ve seen me for three days easy.”

His smile dropped. “I’m sorry to hear that. You need nourishment. You’re carrying a baby.”

I shrugged. “We’re pretty hardy.” I reached into my mouth, feeling the hole near a molar. “I lost a tooth last month. It just fell out all on its own without any prodding or anything. That sure was strange.”

“Lack of nutrition.” Now he frowned in earnest. “I’ll be back later, Celia. You go have your bath.”

“Thank you kindly, Nicolas. When I go to church on Sunday, I’ll be in the front pew, and I’ll sing your praises to everybody. I’ve never met a kinder man in my life.”

This compliment seemed to embarrass him. “That’s not necessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He exited the room, while I grinned like a happy cat, feeling as full as a tick. “Things are looking up, Noah. We’re in like flint. I’m gonna do whatever I can to give you a nice life. I’m sorry for starving you before, but I promise not to do that ever again. It’s gravy and potatoes from here on out.” I slid from the bed. “Now, I gotta take a bath. I guess I must stink something awful, but I don’t really smell it. Other people seem to, I suppose.” I shrugged. “I don’t put much stock in soap and water, but I feel obliged to give it a try. It certainly can’t hurt.”

Having locked the door to the water closet, I was amazed to discover that not only was there cool running water, but hot as well, although it felt lukewarm. I filled the bathtub halfway, stepping out of my clothing, as I did not wear a corset and the drawers had already fallen to the floor. They had once been white with frilly trim around the legs, but the trim had frayed, and the fabric looked nearly tan now.

Stepping into the tub, I glanced at my protruding belly, noticing it was far lighter in color than my arms and legs. I grasped a bar of lemon-scented soap and a cloth and scrubbed from top to bottom. It felt slightly abrasive, the suds stinging my skin, but it did the job admirably well, because the water had turned grey.

Releasing the stopper at the bottom, I watched as the water escaped, disappearing to nowhere. Then I rotated the knob, allowing for more water, and continued to scrub as best I could. I cleansed my face as well, and then my hair, using a bottle someone had left near the washbasin. The contents smelled of lavender and the clear-like fluid lathered after I poured it on my head. The water had turned gray again. I shivered now, because I had used all the warm water available, yet I remained determined to continue until I was as clean as possible.

Once satisfied with the effort, I pulled out the stopper and watched, mesmerized at how the tub emptied itself. I could easily grow accustomed to indoor plumbing. Stepping from the bath, I dried thoroughly and donned the only clean dress I possessed. In my room, I managed to brush the tangles from my hair while yawning. Although the effort had exhausted me, I soon discovered how comfortable the bed felt, as I laid my head upon the pillow and closed my eyes. An insistent knock woke me some time later, and I struggled to rouse from the blissful slumber.

“Hold your horses.” Opening the door a crack, I glanced out. “Pastor Kinsley.”

“How are you?”

“Fine. I’m clean now.”

He smiled. “I’m happy to hear it.”

“I didn’t drown. Didn’t even come close.”

“Mrs. Hershey will be glad.”

Opening the door further, I stood before him in bare feet. “Did you speak to the doctor?”

“He’ll see you tomorrow.”

“All right.” I had closed the drapes earlier. “It’s dark in here. I won’t be a minute.” Pulling on the heavy material, sunlight streamed in. “There. Now we don’t have to talk in the dark.”

“That’s quite an improvement.”

“Pardon?”

“Your hair is lighter than I thought. I see some red in there. It’s a very pretty color.”

I had not expected praise. “Gosh, it’s a mess.” It hung past my shoulders in tangled waves. “It’s still damp.”

“The reason I’m here is that I’ve spoken to Mrs. Wexler. She’ll see you soon to welcome you to the residence. I told her about your situation, and she understands fully.”

“I’ve been thinking. I need a job. I can’t live here and not pay for a darn thing. I can’t do that.”

“Don’t worry about it right now. It’ll all work itself out.” He pulled something from his waistcoat. “And this is for you.”

A book came my way. I read the title, “‘Vanity Fair’”.

“Yes, I think you might like it.” He grinned. “It’s a bit of a satire of English society. I found it vastly amusing. I hope you will too.”

Astounded at having been given a book, I hardly knew what to say. “Oh, my. I can’t believe it. It’s so pretty.” The leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands. “I won’t keep it long, I swear.”

“There’s no need to rush. You may read it at your leisure. It’s how books are meant to be enjoyed. You shouldn’t have to hurry through something in a few hours. Savor it.”

My grin broadened. “Oh, I will.”

“Why don’t you make yourself presentable, and I’ll introduce you to Mrs. Wexler. Then we’ll see about dinner.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s just Nicolas.”

Grinning, I gaped at him. “As you wish.”

“Come to my room when you’re ready.”

I closed the door with a flourish, nearly giddy with excitement. I longed to fling myself upon the bed and read, but it would have to wait until later. Hurrying to fix my hair, I managed to scrape it into a messy bun, stuffing it inside the bonnet. After tying my boots, I was ready to face the possibility of another hearty and delicious meal, my belly grumbling noisily.

After I left the room, I encountered Mrs. Hershey in the hallway. “Hello.”

“There you are. Have you rested?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m to take you to dinner.”

“I was supposed to go to Pastor Kinsley’s room. He told me to meet him there.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Here he is now, my dear. We’re going to dinner, and I want to introduce you to my husband.”

“Oh, how nice.”

Pastor Kinsley approached, smiling. “I see you’re here already.”

“I am,” said Doris. “Let’s go out. This hallway is dreadfully dark.”

“After you, ladies.” He gestured politely.

As I passed, he smelled lovely, having donned some sort of woodsy cologne. I drew closer, longing to inhale the fragrance, but I was forced to walk ahead, not being able to linger. Once we had left the building, Mrs. Hershey turned to me.

“Heavens to Betsy! I could hardly see a thing inside, but you look much improved, Celia. I thought you were gray, but your skin is peaches and cream, isn’t it, Nicolas?”

“It is indeed.”

“And hair shot through with gold and reds. It’s very pretty.”

I had never received so many compliments, feeling my cheeks flame. “Th-thank you very much.”

“I really don’t see any reason why this pretty young lady can’t find a husband, even in Boot Creek. I knew there was promise there. I’ve some clothing I found in a trunk just today that might fit you. They belonged to my daughter, Milly, before she left for school. I doubt she would mind in the least, if you were to wear them.”

“I would, but I don’t think they’d fit.”

Mrs. Hershey sighed. “I know, but they would after you have the baby. I’ll talk to Teresa Butterfield at the mercantile and see if she has some larger dresses for you to use now. You can give them back when you don't need them anymore.”

We walked towards the street, the hues of evening darkening the avenue. Shops had closed their doors and the shades had been drawn. The din of the saloon could be heard—the laughing and singing of male voices.

“That’s far too kind, but I’ve got two good dresses. I just need to wash one.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear. If you wish to secure a husband, you’ll have to present yourself in the best possible light. Once I’ve got you trussed up finer than a Christmas turkey, it won’t be long before you’re at the church saying wedding vows.”

I glanced at Nicolas to assess his reaction, finding that his profile appealed to me. A shorn, blondish beard graced his cheeks, while a trimmed mustache grew above the lips. A slightly crooked nose did little to detract from the handsomeness of his appearance. He seemed to sense my appraisal, because he turned to look at me.

“It sounds like she’s got you all sorted, Celia.”

“Yes, it does.” We would dine at the hotel restaurant again, because we neared the building. “I do love eating here. The portions are generous.”

Pastor Kinsley held open the door. “Ladies.”

“Thank you. I see my husband!” Mrs. Hershey darted down the entranceway, past the counter where a startled worker gaped. “Darling. Come meet Boot Creek’s newest resident.”

The rotund man in a snug fitting frock coat scowled. “You need to stop this mail order farce at once, Doris. No more catalogue women, you hear?”

“Oh, stop it, Ralph. I’m providing a valuable service to needy young ladies and lonely men. And it gives me something to do when I’ve completed all my social obligations.” She pivoted to look at me. “Don’t be shy. Come meet my husband. This is Mayor Hershey.”

Nicolas encouraged me to go forward. “He won’t bite.”

“H-hello.” I nodded to him.

“She’s as big as a house!” he exclaimed in a slightly gravely voice. “What in the blazes have you gone and done now, woman?”

Doris smiled tentatively, chagrin written all over her face. “I’ve gotten into a little bit of a muddle, but I do believe Pastor Kinsley will help us out.”

“I will?” Nicolas glanced between us, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “How so?”

“The providence of the Lord will reveal all in good time.” Doris clutched her husband’s arm. “Now, let’s eat. We shouldn’t keep Celia standing so long. It’s terrible for her circulation.”

I met Nicolas’s gaze, my heart skipping a beat or two. He said nothing, his eyes roaming over my face. Then he guided me towards the dining room, where a smart set of people had gathered dressed in silks and satins, the women in elaborate headgear and the men just as well heeled.

Everyone seemed to turn to watch us, all talking ceasing. I swallowed my nervousness, feeling entirely out of place.