The Heart of a Soiled Dove (22 page)

Aurora scarcely remembered Christmas. It had come and gone just as the snow did. She could barely keep up with life. The girls’ housing had been completed and furnished long ago. Aurora shook the spring rains from her slicker and approached the boardinghouse door. The clear and airy laughter inside caused her to smile.

As she looked upon the classes going on in the large open area of the home, she could not help but feel elated and much rewarded. These women were in their element. Carrie Anne beckoned her over to the sewing circle. “Did you bring it?”

The faces about her were eager for the answer and Aurora dug into her slicker, where she’d placed it for safekeeping, and provided the silk and lace. From the delighted responses received, it had been well worth going to town for. It was also well worth the visit with Marshal LaSalle. The town had been more than honored when he gave up his post in Helena to reside permanently in Pine City. But for each time spent with him Aurora was reminded of his affections towards her. Affections she could not return wholeheartedly, but could she settle for less? He knew all about her past and accepted her. He was easy to talk to, he admired her, but most of all, Marshal LaSalle accepted Aurora for who she was. Even as her broken heart lay elsewhere. But what he wasn’t, was Donovan Ramsey.

Aurora laughed softly as the girls quickly ignored her presence, so in tune with their treasures. Aurora made her way to Josie, teaching the ladies letters and words. Employment and Finances were written on the blackboard. This winter had been a good one, not perfect, but satisfying. She strode to the kitchen where Sophia was impatiently correcting Pearl on the business of making applesauce. “No,” she said. “Don’t add the sugar until it’s near done, else it will crystallize.”

Pearl saw Aurora, and immediately bit back a retort to Sophia by biting her bottom lip. Aurora gave her an encouraging smile.
Keep going, you’re doing well.

The women got their spiritual lessons from Aurora’s humble knowledge of the Bible. She taught Sunday school and whenever Reverend John was in town, he held special services for them. The women seemed to get more youthful every day, just as Aurora began to feel old as a spinster. She supposed idle loneliness could do that to a person. Josie left the girls to their tablets and came to Aurora as she was pouring herself a cup of tea. “We’re getting cabin fever.”

“Well, spring is about here. It won’t be much longer. Then we can turn our interests to the pasture.”

“I was thinking about having a picnic.”

“It’s a bit wet for that.” Aurora stirred sugar in the fine cup, thoughts not all together on Josie. The clanking against the china brought a soothing comfort, somehow.

“I don’t mean today. Let’s show off our work here. Ever heard of a bidding picnic?”

The sip stopped at Aurora’s lips and a smile spread beneath the rim. “Show what fine ladies we have, ladies available now for domesticated life?”

“Let’s do it.”

Coming to herself, Aurora replied, “We best get started on some new dresses then.”

Josie turned and interrupted class time, much to Sophia’s annoyance. “Aurora has something to tell you.”

“I am putting forth that we have a soiree of sorts. There is a need for wives out here as you well know.” Some women stood, hands clasping against breasts in anticipation. “We will have a bidding. Josie, Carrie Anne and I will hand pick men from town and surrounding areas to come out, bid on a picnic basket that you’ve made and the highest bidder gets the girl for the day.”

Excitement and giggles filled the room. It was electric and overflowed onto Aurora. This was good. And Josie, the superintendent of sorts said official-like, “So we have much work to do. Special cooking classes will need to be had, and we must fine tune your talents.” she smiled seductively. “We’ve some men to impress.”

Cheers went up and when it settled Aurora announced, “A new dress for everybody!”

Only after finishing her tea and seeing hope springing new in everyone’s pretty faces, did Aurora leave. Her big old lonely house awaited her attentions, or at least the bread in her oven did, and the open book on the side table in the parlor called out to be finished.

The overly hard blow had not been necessary, but the frustration welling inside had to be spent. Donovan brought the ax down again. The wood split and flew from the mangled stump. Another and another. His woodpile was high. He would never burn all of it. Especially with the thaw coming. Sweat streaked his shirtless body and he swung again. This is how it had been all blasted winter. Aurora haunted him at every turn. The hurt look on her face, the way she had walked away from him, making it easy for him to reject her. The hope in Aurora’s eyes when he’d asked to come courting, now killed his heart. It had been love in her eyes, and he’d thrown it back in her face. How could he know what to do with her confession? It’d felt like he’d been punched in the face, rendering him from having a clear mind. He swung again and a blister in his palm broke and bled. He did not care.

Thoughts of her had plagued him every last dark month of winter. Thoughts of Marshal LaSalle calling on her. He swore into the clear sky and beat down upon his victim of kindling. This time the ax stuck in the stump and he wrestled with it. Finally defeated, he slumped beside it, panting, sweating. Discontent formed anew. Why did she have to house those women? Why did she have to be one of them herself? If she hadn’t been, he would have courted her. It seemed that life was bent on making nothing but misery for him. First his mother, and no sooner than he let down his guarded heart – he got hit with her past? He couldn’t look at Aurora after she shared what must have been the most difficult thing to say. She was only being honest, so he would know what he was getting. He’d wanted to say something, but his mouth had gone still, he’d felt paralyzed, and it had been too late before he could fix his reaction.

His throat needed water. Donovan eyed the ladle in the bucket, heard first the rider, then saw it was Roman. Swearing again, he rose to drink. All he wanted to do was sit in his misery. Was that too much to ask?

He saw Roman eye the wood strewn across the lawn, showing that Donovan was not himself. If he had been, each and every piece would have been cut to precision, stacked in good order.

“Carrie Anne says the girls are going to have a picnic basket bidding.”

Donovan eyed him sorely. “So?”

“It’s by invitation only.”

“As if I would go, Roman.”

Roman shifted on his horse. “
You
weren’t invited.”

“Then what are you bothering me for?” Donovan’s hand clenched and he tossed the ladle as if the water disgusted him.

Carefully hiding his smile, Roman said, “Carrie Anne wants you to come.” He was given Donovan’s back walking away from him. “You are a miserable cuss. You know that, don’t you?”

“Who cares what I am.”

Roman dismounted and stalked him. “Just come for Carrie Anne. She’s making a basket for Aurora. She doesn’t know it.”

He halted. “Why doesn’t she make her own basket?”

“She won’t.”

Irritated to the core, he swung around, almost violently. “It doesn’t concern me.”

“She won’t make a basket because she would only want you to bid.”

Now that was humorous. “What about her marshal? The Reverend, or Luke for that matter?” His laugh was cruel. “Aurora has no shortage of suitors, so I hear.”

“Carrie Anne believes if you bid on Aurora’s basket, she would be happy again.”

Donovan slid on his shirt. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t do it. You know what she was before she came here. That’s not for me.”

“You have no tolerance for anything. Who are you to…?”

“Watch your words, Roman.”

“Don’t tell me to watch my words.” He shoved Donovan.

So, he’s angry with righteous indignation, eh?

Donovan wanted to slough it off but Roman continued, “Your ma was always looking for ways to hurt pa. She was intent on it and you know it. Aurora is different. It was that or die of starvation.”

Digging a finger into Roman’s chest Donovan warned, “Shut-up. Don’t you lay a hand on me again. What would you do, Roman? Knowing that Carrie Anne lay with countless men before you – maybe even enjoyed it?”

That seemed to do it. Roman hauled his fist back and slugged Donovan’s face. A lip cut open and warm blood dripped down his chin. Donovan touched this blood with his finger and shook his head at Roman. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Fists knocked against flesh, the water bucket spilled to the ground, pooling into the dirt, making mud. Smacking sounds echoed and the tussling roused the animals. In between pounding, Roman continued on with his point. “Give… her… a chance.”

Ugh
, Donovan took a blow to the stomach. All the energy spent earlier on chopping wood, to Roman’s advantage, had almost depleted him. Realizing Roman spoke the truth about his ma was just as bad as getting licked, as he was now. With bruised pride, Donovan raised his arms in capitulation. Roman spit blood and heaved air into his lungs. Donovan watched him through an eye on its way to swelling. His ma
was
loose, rebellious against his pa, cared nothing for anyone but herself. Was there really a difference? Wasn’t one whore the same as another? Selling themselves for pleasure and money. Yet Aurora saw them differently. Was even sacrificing herself, her reputation and all, for
them
.

Donovan sat on his porch step, away from Roman who was leaning over the water bucket, splashing the water’s coolness against his cheek. Innocent is what Aurora looked when he first met her at the mercantile. Was that truly who she was? Donovan considered himself to be a good judge of character and had pegged her as genuine, proper. One would have never guessed she had lain with countless men…. He couldn’t do this. How was he supposed to give of himself and not have images draining his mind? Could he ever conquer that?

Roman sauntered over. “The fact that you are sitting here, contemplating, tells me that you want to be with her. Consider this, have you never made a mistake in all your born life? Judge not, brother.” Roman turned then, and in obvious pain, mounted his horse. It didn’t seem to matter to him, though. He’d managed to pummel Donovan into surrender, leaving him alone to ponder his own decisions in his very own blemished life.

Makeshift benches were set across the sprawling lawns. A stage built by Roman and Donovan’s men was front and center. Smiling with pride, Aurora made her way between the benches of men sitting in anticipation of the event.

Josie gained everyone’s attention by gliding across the stage. She’d outdone herself in a dress of elegant blue material that glistened in the sun and appeared to sparkle like diamonds. Aurora had given her a long rope and Josie had taken up every inch of it. No matter, it had been worth it all to see her on the stage smiling broadly into the eager faces before her.

“Welcome, gentlemen.”

A loud whoop erupted and the robins newly settled in a nearby tree flurried away from the excitement. She held out her hand for Aurora to join her on stage. “You know who Aurora Young is.”

The cheering erupted even louder.

“She is the reason we are all here.” Josie side-squeezed Aurora and instructed the crowd, “For the record, these women are coming out in trust. Do not steal that away from them. They are ladies now. We have hand chosen each of you because you are dignified. Respectable.” She eyed each one, then jested, lightening the atmosphere, “Well, most of you anyway.”

The men laughed at that.

Josie continued, “We expect the winners to treat the ladies as such and there can be no physical contact. You knew this when you agreed to come and we have the good Reverend here to keep you all in line. Is that understood?”

They nodded uniformly and Aurora almost laughed. They looked like a bunch of little boys high on adventure. She glanced behind the makeshift curtain where her girls were hidden and agreed with Josie. She too, was very protective of them all. When Josie announced they would get started, Aurora stood tall. “I need to say something. None of this would have been possible without the loving devotion of Josie, Sophia and Carrie Anne. Of course, I cannot neglect my men.”

The crowd roared and she blushed. “I meant my partner, Roman.” She looked at him with adoration. “He is my right hand, my foreman. He made all of this come to pass with the physical labor of the ranch hands from here and the Double R.” She wished she wasn’t reminded of the Double R at this moment. It set a heavy mood upon her that would need to be tamped down for the rest of the day. “Without further ado, I’ll dismiss myself now and give Josie back the stage.”

Aurora placed herself in the front seat and set the moneybox on her lap. This was more exciting than she could bear. And as each of her girls paraded themselves and their pleasing smiles and glamorous dresses across the stage, her heart was surely going to burst with the pride of a mother.

The response was simply overwhelming. She was putting gold into her box, bills ranging up to two hundred dollars and more. The men were far too generous, but as she looked up and saw Pearl, nervous, blushing, innocence reconciled to her youth, she knew that no amount of money would be enough. They were no longer for sale. This was all about showing off that they are like their mothers, aunts and sisters, and could perform all of the same domestic duties that they did and more. This money would be used for their futures.

It was soon time for Josie’s basket and so it was Aurora’s cue to take over. Not all of the single men in attendance had winning bids and Josie was the last. Her heart felt for those not getting a girl, but there just weren’t enough to go around. In the end, Josie went for a whopping two hundred and seventy-five dollars. She made her way down to the winner, a refined looking gentleman, and sat next to him.

Aurora said in closing, “Please accept our gratitude to all for participating. For those of you who did not come out ahead, please help yourselves to the buffet at my home. For the rest of you, enjoy yourselves today, for tonight there will be a dance.”

Before she could venture from the stage, Carrie Anne came out with a lovely basket. Confused, Aurora sought out Roman. Why was his wife out here? Timid Carrie Anne walked out, boldly proclaiming, “Not so fast, gentlemen. We have one more basket to be bid upon.”

Aurora murmured to Carrie Anne, “I don’t understand.”

“Surprise! This basket belongs to Aurora Young.” She held it out for her friend to hold and made haste from the stage, leaving Aurora unsure and alone. If she could only crawl under the stage.... What could she do? It was Roman who held the bidding. She had no time to be angry at Carrie Anne, or Josie and her mischievous look, but she would be sure to let them all have it later. At present, she had to maintain some sort of decorum through this humiliation. After all, she was the hostess.

For once she was thankful Donovan was not around. What would he say to this? His judgment would be damning she was sure. He and his scowling, unapproving face. His handsome, handsome face. They were at two hundred and fifty before she realized who was even bidding for her company. Luke! He did not have this kind of money. What was he doing? She wanted so badly to tell him he could dine with her that very night, and for free. Oh, this was awful – only to get worse. Marshal LaSalle was overbidding Luke and she read determination in Luke’s fiery eyes. He was going to bankrupt himself and she was by far not worth it. Aurora searched his face in a pleading gesture to stop.

It made sense now why the marshal hadn’t bid upon any others. He must’ve known about this. She looked to Revered John. He looked amused until he realized that she was not. She saw him make way to Luke, and she silently prayed he’d put a stop to this madness.

“Two Ninety,” Luke bid.

“Three hundred.” Marshal LaSalle was being relentless. The audience was going wild, egging him onward – everyone loved the marshal and clearly wanted him to have Aurora for the day.

Luke’s face turned red with anger and frustration. Finally, there was enough silence for Roman to say, “Going once, going….”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars.”

The air tingled. An uncertain shadow lingered, silencing everyone. Donovan’s deep voice echoed in the hushed crowd. Aurora swayed. His face was set. She could not read if this was a good sign or not. He would be sure to misunderstand this whole ordeal. She’d only ever wanted him – not to be auctioned off to just any man. Her face flamed at his heated observation of her discomfiture.

Marshal LaSalle called out, “Four hundred.”

Donovan did not give him the time of day, kept his steady gaze on Aurora. “Five hundred.”

She could no longer take it. “Stop it. Please!”

The marshal held up his hand. “I know better than to go up against Donovan. You win.” He bowed out before Aurora and shook Donovan’s hand. “Good luck man. She is a hard woman to earn affections from. Lord knows I’ve tried all winter.”

Aurora was stuck there, planted as if her roots were buried deep into the stage.

With a stopping heart, she watched as Donovan made his way to her slowly, like she were prey. He said nothing, merely set her basket to the ground and led her away.

It dawned on him where to take her, where the first voice of calm had visited them an eternity ago. She followed his lead. Soon they topped Aurora’s favorite hill, now a cemetery. Donovan’s face was pained when he noticed the burial spots. This is what she lived for, for these women. He pulled her down onto the dewy grass.

“You convict me,” he said. Contrite, angst ebbed from him. His pride had been wounded.

“I don’t mean to… it’s not my place to.”

Grabbing her hands, he placed them to his chest and closed his eyes, as if he were wrapping her hand around his heart. “You live so selflessly. Without judgment. How can anyone measure up to you?”

She looked at his mouth, at his self-doubt. “I am nothing.”

“You possess my thoughts, that can’t be nothing.”

“You possess mine.”

“I have fought falling in love with you Aurora. What you did in the past…. I tried to justify this by fighting it. I know that’s not who you are. In fact, it makes you stronger, much stronger than any one of us.”

“Don’t compare me.”

He dropped her hand and stood. “That’s what I’m talking about. You say you are nothing yet you brought them here to start a new life.” He pointed to the meadow where the girls’ school and home stood. “No one does that.”

A smile curved on her lips. “It is never too late for anyone to change,” she said. “Not even for you.” She rose to stand next to him. In a boldness that only Aurora could bring, she hooked the tips of her fingers against his. Time froze. All he need do was respond in kind and she would know.

It was his time to confess. “My ma prostituted herself for no reason other than she wanted to hurt my pa. He lost our money and she repaid him by robbing his dignity. He died in sorrow. It’s more than a man should have to take.”

“I am not your mother. I survived then, I’m surviving now. God has healed me. He can heal you too.”

His fingertips curled over hers. A warm rush filled him. “I want to find that healing which you, Roman and the Reverend speak of.” He paused a moment before saying, “You are something, Aurora Young.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Would you still have me call on you then?”

“On my honor I will never hurt you, Donovan.”

“I already know that.”

They moved simultaneously and were in each other’s arms. Surrendering of thoughts and devoted love merged.