Vegas Sunrise (50 page)

“I haven't seen that house up in the hills yet. It must be a beautiful place to be called Sunrise. Maybe Mama will want to come here and live with me. That would be okay, wouldn't it, Cotton? I'll get her a fancy chair so she can just sit and do nothing. I'll bring her flowers and give her steak to eat every day. I'm going to get her the prettiest dress in the whole world. Fancy shoes, too, and stockings. A pearl necklace, Cotton. I'll rub glycerine on her hands, file her fingernails, and maybe put some polish on them. I don't know what I'll do about Pa. Maybe I'll just let him drink hisself to death. That seems to be the only thing that makes him happy

“I'm going to buy a new dress, Cotton, for the trip. I want Ma to be proud of me when she sees me. I want to thank you for all this good. I promised God I was going to build a church and call it St. Cotton Easter. Maybe the preacher will let me sing on Sunday I'd like that. I'll sing for you, Cotton. You look down on me, you hear. Do you have wings, Cotton? Jeb McGuire said angels have wings and they ring little bells. ‘Course he was drunk when he said that. I like the way it sounds. I have so much to learn, Cotton. I don't hardly know nothing. I'm going to be twenty years old and I'm ignorant as some of them miners who never had any schoolin' at all.

“I know you wanted to be planted here, Cotton, but I been thinking. If I move into that house up in the hills, I won't be able to come here too much. I don't want you gettin' lonely here all by yourself. I'd be willing to dig you up and take you up there. Mr. Waring said there's all kinds of flowers and gardens. I could make you a cemetery and talk to you every day I want you to think about that, Cotton, and when I come back the next time, I want a sign that you think it's okay. If Jeb is right, ring your little bell. It's going to be a couple of weeks till I can come back here. I'll tell you all about my trip to Texas on the train. Maybe I'll have my whole family with me when I come to visit next time. My mama will want to thank you personal like. She has manners, my mama does.

“I need to be going home now. I'll be here on Sunday when they put up your marker. I want you to know, Cotton, I paid for that with my own money, not yours. I don't like to say good-bye so I'll just say I'll be back. The sagebrush smells real sweet today. There aren't any clouds in the sky. It's dusty and dry.” There was genuine concern in her voice when she said, “If there aren't any clouds in the sky, what are you resting on?”

Sallie stood, smoothed down her dress, and did her best to tuck her flyaway blond curls back into place. She sniffed at the sagebrush-scented air before she waved her arm in a jaunty little salute of happiness.

 

Sallie climbed down from the wagon that was loaded with her personal possessions. She savored the moment by squeezing her eyes shut and then opening them slowly, drinking in the sight of her new home. In her life she had never dreamed such a place existed. The flower borders surrounding the house were every color of the rainbow. She bent down to touch the dark soil. It was moist to the touch, and from somewhere she could hear water dripping. The lawn was springy underfoot and damp, greener than a carpet of emeralds. She looked to the left and then to the right. “Now I know why Cotton's granddaddy called this place Sunrise,” she murmured.

She backed up until she was standing between a row of tall stately-looking trees that afforded her a better look at the house, which was now hers. Pristine white columns glistened in the sun. She thought about the tar paper shack she'd lived in with her family back in Texas, a shanty with no windows and a door that had to be nailed shut and stuffed with rags in the winter. The door on this house was stout and beautiful, with tiny diamond-shaped panes of colored glass at the top. A heavy brass handle was just as shiny as the windows. But it was the heavy quarry stone in muted shades of gray and brown that brought a smile to her face. There would be no drafts in this house in the winter.

Sallie meandered around the grounds. Benches circled trees, and stone ornaments of different animals dotted the little path that led nowhere. It was cool and dim, green and lush. She tried to imagine herself sitting in the gazebo with a frosty glass of lemonade, dressed in a frilly pink afternoon dress, with a book in her hand she couldn't read. She giggled. “Oh, Cotton, you should see me now.”

She was at the front door now. Should she lift the heavy brass knocker? Should she fit the huge brass key into the lock? She was saved from making a decision when the heavy door creaked open. A plump woman, wearing a white apron and a braid of hair that circled her head like a halo, smiled. “Please, miss, come in. Joseph will see to your bags. I am Anna. I cook and clean. My husband tends the gardens and takes care of the animals. Come, come, let me show you your new home.”

“Can you open the windows?” Sallie asked.

“But of course. Would you like me to open them for you?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, I would. I want to see the curtains flutter in the breeze. Do all the windows have screens?”

“Yes. I do not open them because Joseph and I don't use the house. We live in one of the cottages in the back. Is there anything you'd like me to do for you now?”

“I'd like to see my room and maybe take a bath. If you don't mind, I'd like to walk through the house myself and look at things.”

“It is your house, Miss Coleman. Do you have anything in particular that you'd like me to make for your dinner?”

“It doesn't matter. I do like pie, though. Sweet pie. Very sweet.” She smiled wickedly and patted her hips. “I like gravy and potatoes. I like most anything.”

“Joseph has a garden he tends. I can the vegetables for the winter. We have a wonderful cold cellar. The special room is in the back. Joseph has a key. He'll turn it over to you at supper. Is there anything else I can do for you? Would you like me to draw your bath?”

“No, thank you. I want to do all that myself. Later on we can discuss your . . . duties.”

Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, she was acting like a grand mistress. How wonderful it felt! She sobered almost immediately when she thought about how her mother waited on other people and wore herself down to nothing more than skin and bones. Sallie made a promise to herself that she would never take advantage of anyone who worked for her. Cotton always said you should treat people the way you yourself wanted to be treated. He was right. She'd learned so much from Cotton.

Sallie walked from room to room, her lips pursed in a round circle of approval. She didn't know how she knew, but she was sure that this house looked like houses in Boston. All of the shiny dark furniture must have belonged to Cotton's grandmother or mother. The rugs were thin, colorful, with fringes around the edge. Some were round, most of them square. There were big ones and little ones. Her mother was purely going to smile and smile when she described the brilliant bird in the center of one particular rug. But always, in each room, her gaze settled on the windows and the lace curtains.

She chose a room at the end of the long hallway that overlooked the lush green gardens. The small balcony leading off the dressing room made her squeal in delight. She loved the French doors and the fine wooden floors. The high four-poster with the three-step stool with its canopy of lace made her grin from ear to ear. “I can't hardly believe this,” she whispered to herself. Two giant closets rested side by side on one wall. Plenty of room for her ricky-ticky saloon gowns and feather boas. A dresser with flowered marble drawer pulls on all nine drawers caused her to suck in her breath. She didn't have enough underwear to fill the deep cavities. She walked around the room, finally sitting down on a sky-blue satin chaise longue that looked like no one had ever sat in it. Well, she was going to sit in it every day.

Now it was time to open the windows. She pushed the lace curtains aside, stretched her arms to push and tug at the window, and reached down for the wooden screen. She waited for the lace curtains to billow inward. When nothing happened, Sallie rustled the curtains. Still they didn't move inward. She was so disappointed she wanted to cry She marched over to the bed and climbed up. She sat, determined to wait as long as she had to, until the curtains moved.

Maybe she should lie down and rest her eyes. Within minutes she was sound asleep. The afternoon passed quietly, and she woke when she felt a warm movement of air. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, uncertain if she was truly awake or not. A smile that rivaled the afternoon sunshine stretched across her face when she saw the lace curtains dance in the breeze. “Ohhhh,” was all she could think of to say “This is the happiest day of my life,” she said aloud. “Thank you, Cotton, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Sallie forgot about the step stool and slid off the bed, landing on her backside. She laughed then, peals of joy, as she kicked out with her legs, banging the heels of her shoes on the carpeted floor.

Time for her bath. She looked around for the doorway and saw her bags and boxes stacked neatly to the side. Anna must have unpacked while she slept. The door to one of the closets was slightly ajar. The garish saloon dresses looked out of place. The feathered hair ornaments she wore with her colored boas rested on the top shelf. They, too, looked out of place. A warm flush crept up to her neck and cheeks. She checked the dresser and wasn't surprised to see that her worn underwear and stockings filled only half of one of the drawers. She wished she had been the one to unpack her belongings. The flush of shame and embarrassment that someone else had seen her threadbare underwear deepened. Her shoulders stiffened. Everything was clean and mended. There was no need for shame.

 

In the huge, galvanized tub full of bubbles, Sallie leaned back, one long soapy leg extended. She eyed the red polish on the tip of her toes. Decadent! “Who cares!” She scrubbed and rubbed with a cloth that was softer than feathers until her skin was red. The length of toweling was just as soft, and long and wide enough to wrap completely around herself. She loved the way it made her feel. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her blond hair curled in ringlets around her ears and neck. She smoothed it back until it was slick against her head. When she wore her hair pulled back like this she looked older, more experienced. When her curls tumbled about her face she looked fifteen.

She thought about her mother again as she dressed. Her mother's hair was like her own, but dull and usually greasy. She wore it pulled back from her sweet face with a string. Sallie was going to buy her a pearl necklace and some earrings. She'd take some of the soap that smelled like roses and wash her mother's hair and fix it the way the ladies in town wore their hair. She knew how to do these things now. Her mother was going to be a queen, and her little sisters would be princesses. She could make it happen now that she had all the money in the world.

Tomorrow she was going back to town. Tonight, when she got ready to sleep in the high bed, she was going to make a list of things to do when she got there. She wasn't going to wait one minute longer than necessary before she returned to Texas to see her family.

Sallie felt every inch the grand lady when Anna served her supper in the dining room at the long table with the huge centerpiece of fresh flowers. The meal was hearty and heavy—thick steak, fried potatoes, gravy, sliced tomatoes, and bread spread with real butter. She thought about the thin gruel and the hard bread spread with lard that she'd eaten when she lived in Texas. Well, that was never going to happen again. Never, ever. She dug into her rhubarb pie with a vengeance and asked for a second helping. When she was finished with her meal she asked for Joseph.

“Ma'am, how can I help you?” he asked respectfully.

“I want to go back to town tomorrow, early, before the sun comes up. I plan on . . . going to Texas. I'm not sure when I'll be back.”

“Would you like me to take you in the automobile, ma'am?”

“Why, yes, I would purely love that. Where did Mr. Easter get an automobile?”

“Won it fair and square in a poker game. I learned to drive it all by myself. Mr. Easter didn't want no part of something on four wheels with an engine. He said it was the devil's own machine. I'll be ready at sunup.”

“So will I,” Sallie responded smartly. “How hard was it to learn, Joseph?”

“Not hard at all, ma'am. I could teach you when you get back. You need to practice so's you don't run into no trees and scrub along the way.”

“You need to wear a hat, miss,” Anna said. “Your hair will look like the end of a broom if you don't. Dust and sand get in your eyes. Joseph wears special spectacles when he drives that machine.”

“Will you be wanting to see the secret room now?” The old man held out a key ring with a large brass key dangling from the end.

“Yes, I would, Joseph. Thank you for supper, Anna. It was real good, specially that pie. Who pays you your wages, Anna?”

“Mr. Waring. He comes up here on the first of every month. In the winter he pays us for three or four months at a time. Will you be thinking of changing that, ma'am?”

“No. But, maybe he should be paying you more now that I'm going to live here and you will have more duties. I'll speak to him. If you want someone else to help you, I can ask in town.”

“I would have no objection to someone helping out. Joseph and me, we ain't young'uns anymore. Our bones creak a bit. Whatever you think best, ma'am.” Sallie nodded, and followed Joseph out of the dining room.

“This be the room, miss.” Joseph held out the key and withdrew discreetly. Sallie waited until the old man was out of sight before she fit the key into the lock. The door swung open. She stepped into a huge, bare room with no windows. Sallie held the lamp high in order to see better. Against the wall was the largest safe she'd ever seen. It went from floor to ceiling, an iron monster, shiny black with a huge silver eye in the middle and a thick iron handle.