A Promise to Believe in (12 page)

“I wish there were a way to help them,” Beth murmured.

Her sister plopped the basket down beside the washtub. “I don’t know what we could ever do. I heard it said that they each owe Rafe a bunch of money. They can’t leave until they pay it off.”

“Well, it sounds like slavery to me, and Mr. Lincoln, God rest his soul, put an end to that abomination. I can’t believe it’s legal for Rafe to simply own these women because of their previous debts.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Lacy replied, “but I don’t know what we can do about it. I suppose we could help them run away.”

Beth considered the thought for a moment. “Rafe would only hunt them down. There has to be another way. I’m going to go talk with them.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to go check on the Lassiters’ mare.” Lacy headed off toward the front of the house.

“See how Nick’s feeling, too,” Beth called. She deposited some extra clothespins in the basket and drew a deep breath.

Walking with determination, Beth crossed the distance between Gallatin House and Rafe’s Saloon. She was grateful that it was still early. Perhaps Rafe and his assistant would still be sleeping off their late night.

“Hello,” Beth called and gave a little wave.

Marie looked up but said nothing. Ellie and Regina waved back rather hesitantly. “How are you . . . ladies . . . ah . . . doing?” Beth stammered.

Ellie looked at Marie and then shrugged. “I guess we’re doing fine.”

“I see it’s washday for you, as well.” Beth could think of nothing else to say. She stopped as she drew within five feet of Regina.

The girl seemed very pale, and dark smudges seemed permanently marked beneath her sad eyes. Beth noted her skinny—even sickly looking—form and wondered if Rafe allowed them enough to eat.

“What are you doing here?” Marie asked, coming to join them. She sounded hostile and crossed her arms against her low-cut chemise.

Beth was rather startled at the way the woman’s breasts swelled against the fabric. She wore only this and a shortened skirt that revealed the calves of her legs. Did she not realize how much of herself she was exposing? Perhaps since she was just among women she didn’t care, but Beth found it offensive and looked away quickly.

“I just thought it might be nice to talk to you,” Beth replied.

“Maybe we could have a tea party, too.” Marie’s sarcasm seemed to give Beth strength.

“I was just thinking of that,” she said, smiling. “Frankly, I was wondering if Rafe gave you all enough to eat.”

Marie seemed momentarily taken aback by Beth’s boldness. Then a grin spread across her face. “Are you here to do your Christian good deed—bring food to those who are hungry?”

“Well, if you are hungry, I can bring you some food.”

“We eat enough,” Marie answered. She looked at the other two as if defying them to challenge her statement. Ellie and Regina simply looked to the ground and avoided Beth’s face.

“I know you haven’t been here long,” Beth said, trying to think of something else to talk about. “Winters are hard here. It gets pretty cold.” She looked at the poorly constructed rooms that had been added to the back of Rafe’s Saloon and then back at their scanty, lightweight clothes.

“I’ve been cold before,” Marie said. Her eyes seemed like hard bits of coal as she narrowed her gaze. “What are you really trying to say?”

Beth gave up the pretense of social etiquette. “I just wondered if you have stoves in your rooms. I hope Rafe has provided you with plenty of blankets and . . . well . . . clothes.”

Marie laughed harshly. “Rafe expects us to keep warm other ways, and clothes definitely have no part in it.”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably. “It’s nice of you to ask, though.”

Beth shook her head. “I’m not asking just to be nice. I can’t abide what you’re being forced to do. It’s a sin, you know.”

Marie stepped closer. “You think we don’t know what society thinks of us? I’ve heard enough people preach at me, I could start my own church.”

“If you know it’s wrong, why don’t you just . . . leave?” Beth asked.

Marie made a face and mocked her. “Just leave.”

Ellie stepped forward. “We don’t have a choice, Miss Gallatin.”

“Call me, Beth, and of course you have a choice.”

Ellie shook her head. “I have no one to help me—no money of my own. My husband died, and he was the only family I had. He didn’t leave me a cent.”

Beth frowned and looked at each of the women. “I suppose that may be the case for each of you, but it’s still wrong. God never intended for you to do the things you’re doing.”

“And what would you suggest, Miss Prim-and-Proper?” Marie asked.

Beth tried to think of a good solution, but answers weren’t coming to mind. “Well, I don’t know exactly.”

“That’s the trouble with you Christian do-gooders. You’re always willing to judge and tell everybody what they’re doing is a sin, but you offer nothing else. You can’t help us—so why don’t you go back to your safe little house and pretend you did your best to change the ills of the world.”

“Marie, don’t be so mean,” Ellie interceded. “She’s just being nice.”

“But nice doesn’t change a thing. She thinks she’s better than us, because she doesn’t have to stoop to our way of living.” Marie looked at Beth and for just a moment seemed to drop her guard. “She doesn’t understand how hard it is or how we’ve tried to find our way out.”

Beth was humbled by the woman’s comment. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

Marie shook her head. “For all the good it does.”

“I think admitting one’s mistake is important,” Beth said quietly. “I know very little of what you’ve endured… I suppose I have made it all sound rather simplistic.”

“But not because you were trying to be thoughtless,” Ellie said, smiling. “You just didn’t know.”

“And since you don’t know anything about it,” Marie said in a tone that froze Beth to the bone, “you really should keep your nose out of it.”

Beth nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I can’t change your situation, but you should know that if you need something, you can come to us. My sisters and I will help in any way we can.”

“You already help by bringing us clients,” Marie said, laughing. “You keep doing your part, and we’ll do ours.” She walked back to her laundry without another word.

Beth tried to think of something she could do to show her goodwill. She wondered if they would like a cake, then scoffed at her own idea. A cake? What in the world would a cake do to benefit these poor women?

“I heard you got one of those hot springs baths,” Regina said in a barely audible voice.

Her words immediately put an idea in Beth’s head. “Yes, we do. Would you three like to take a soak?” Even Marie perked up at this and made her way back to Ellie and Regina. “It’s quite pleasant,” Beth continued. “I have towels, and you could stay as long as you like. We won’t have a stage in until late.”

“You sure your sisters won’t care?” Ellie asked.

“I know they’d be pleased.”

“Let’s go right now while Rafe and Wyman are still sleeping,” Marie suggested. She looked at Beth and narrowed her eyes. “That is, if it’s all right with you.”

“It’s fine. I’ll fetch some towels for you.” Beth smiled and headed to the back porch as the young women darted across the yard to the fencing that surrounded the hot springs pool. She felt a sense of accomplishment, even if it was just to offer these women some simple comforts.

Picking up three thick towels, Beth walked back to the hot springs and wondered what other ideas she and her sisters might come up with to better the lives of these soiled doves.

At the pool gate, she heard the women inside. They were happy. Ellie was commenting on how it was the first hot bath she’d had since leaving Missouri. Marie said she’d never seen anything like it. Regina was saying something that Beth couldn’t quite make out.

“I brought the towels,” Beth said, closing the gate behind her.

The pool had been constructed from a wooden frame built by her father and Harvey. It was about ten-by-ten and was situated with piping that brought the hot water into the pool at a constant rate. On the north side there was a drainage area where the water could trickle over the pool edge and run into a stream that emptied into the nearby river.

Somewhere along the way, her father had added a few benches, as well as a ledge on which folks could put their towels and other things they wished to keep dry. It was here that Beth placed the towels. She turned to the women and let out a shriek.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked. She stood and turned as if something were creeping up from behind them.

“I . . . uh . . . well, you’re . . .” Beth’s words faded. They were stark-naked. Each of the women had left their clothes on the benches. She didn’t want to add to her own embarrassment or insensitivity, so she forced a smile. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all. The towels are here.”

She glanced down at Ellie, who was just turning back to face her. Beth noted a crisscrossing of reddish purple bruises across the woman’s back. Someone had obviously beaten her with a belt or strop. Beth cringed inwardly and bit her tongue to keep from asking what had happened.

Ellie smiled up. “This is wonderful, Miss Gallatin. Thank you.”

Beth nodded and glanced to Marie, who was floating quite shamelessly without thought to who might gaze upon her unclothed body. “I’m glad you like it. I have to get back to my laundry now. Oh, but please do just call me Beth. No need for us to be formal.”

She hurried back to her washing and tried to put the scene from her mind. She’d read stories in the past of public bathhouses. In Roman times, it was especially popular, but she found it rather shocking nevertheless.

Picking up one of Mr. Bishop’s white shirts, Beth could hear his instructions once again. He acted as though she hadn’t the first clue about laundry. “Well . . . maybe I am rather careless,” she murmured. She glanced at the pile of shirts and then smiled. “Accidents happen. Who can say what might happen to Mr. Bishop’s precious shirts?”

“I can see you’re still hard at work,” Gwen said as she came from the direction of the chicken coop. “The hens are laying well, finally. We have plenty of eggs now, and I believe I’ll make a pound cake.”

“Sounds wonderful. We’ve not had one for some time.” Beth pushed the white shirts into the boiling water.

A shriek of laughter came from the direction of the pool, causing Gwen to start. “What was that?”

“Oh, I invited Rafe’s girls to soak in the pool. I hope that’s all right. They . . . well . . . we were talking, and I felt so sorry for them. I just wanted to do something nice.”

Gwen smiled. “I think that’s wonderful. Of course it’s all right.”

“I can’t imagine being stuck in a place like they are,” Beth said softly. She stirred the shirts and sighed. “It seems so hard—so unfair. We have it so much better than they do.”

A thoughtful expression crossed her older sister’s face. “It’s true. We should definitely count our blessings. Our future is not nearly as bleak as theirs.”

“But our future could be,” Beth replied. She put aside the laundry paddle and looked at Gwen. “Do you ever think about that? I mean, if Pa hadn’t left us this place, we could be just as bad off.”

“I know.” Gwen placed the basket of eggs on the ground. She stretched as she straightened and shook her head. “Do you ever think about a different life?”

“I think about it,” Beth admitted. “All I’ve ever really wanted was to stay in one place. Pa dragged us all over the earth, it seemed. Sometimes when we’d be somewhere for a couple of years, I’d get hopeful that we’d never move again. Then he’d up and decide we were heading for some other part of the country.”

Gwen nodded sympathetically. “I know. We left many good friends behind.”

“It’s true. If I could ever have hated Pa for anything, it would have been that,” Beth admitted. Then she immediately realized her words and added, “Of course, I couldn’t have hated him.”

“Of course not, but it was a hard life at times.”

“Not as hard as what those girls have to face,” Beth admitted. Feeling a sense of relief in her father’s inability to move them to yet another location left Beth awash in guilt.

“Do you believe that we’re doing the right thing?” Gwen asked.

Beth looked at her older sister and cocked her head to one side. “What is this really about?”

Shrugging, Gwen reached once again for her basket. “I don’t know. I just worry that maybe we should sell the place and move on.”

“Sell to Rafe?”

“He seems to be the only one interested.”

Beth couldn’t believe her sister was even considering such a thing. “Well, I’ll never sell my share to Rafe. Besides, like I said, I’m glad to be in one place for a while. I, for one, do not intend to move again for a good long while.”

“But you and Lacy might suffer for something that was completely my fault.”

“What was your fault?”

“Pa getting killed. If I hadn’t sent him out there—”

“He’d have gone anyway. He always liked to go talk with the Lassiter boys. If you hadn’t given him a reason to go, he would have come up with his own.” Beth walked to her sister and touched Gwen’s arm. “You aren’t cursed. You have to forget all about that nonsense. It’s not true. It doesn’t exist.”

“But plenty of people were cursed in the Bible. There are a lot of examples of it. You can’t just say that curses don’t exist.”

“Maybe they exist, but I don’t think they apply to you,” Beth said. She could only pray that Gwen would let go of the past and the things she’d been told. “I think when you belong to Jesus, you don’t have to worry about curses. I’m not sure, but I’m thinking the Bible probably says as much.”

“Could be. But, Beth, if you ever feel that I’m a danger to you, I won’t be offended if you ask me to go.”

Beth shook her head and hugged Gwen close. “That will never happen. We are family.”

“Thank you. I love you so dearly,” Gwen said as they pulled apart.

“I know you do. I love you, as well. Now I must get back to work. I have Mr. Bishop’s shirts to finish.”

Gwen frowned. “I’m sorry you have that extra work. Would you like me to take it over?”