Ten Thousand Charms (9 page)

He looked up, and Gloria saw his face for the first time since that January afternoon nearly five months before. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, raking it from his face. She saw his piercing, pleading eyes, the color lost in the shadows. His nose was large and, she guessed, had been broken at least once. His jaw was strong, as was his chin, which now quivered in betrayal of the strong front he seemed determined to maintain.

“It seems," he continued, “that God brought you here and brought me here for a reason. He took my wife, but he saved my child.”

Gloria snorted. “If God can save your child, why do you need me?”

“Because, sometimes God needs a little help.”

There was a brief moment of almost complete silence broken only by the sound of Sadie softly patting the baby girl's back.

Then, in an instant, everything broke free.

A boisterous cry burst from the bundle at Sadie's shoulder.

John William leapt from his chair and rushed to Sadie's side.

“She's alive!” he cried.

“Well, now,” Sadie said, bringing the baby back to a cradle in her arms and smiling into the scrunched, screaming face. “It wasn't ever a question of her being alive. She is a strong girl. She was just a little sleepy. A little cold. And now,” Sadie looked pointedly at Gloria, “she is a little hungry”

Gloria felt an unexpected rush of milk. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse and then with the ribbons of her chemise. She looked up at John William, who flushed and turned his back. His shyness made Gloria smile. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a man blush.

“Give her to me,” she told Sadie.

Soon, without further question or conversation, the little girl was in Gloria's arms, rooting impatiently as Gloria worked to uncover her breast. The impatient cries continued until Gloria guided the tiny face to the nipple and the hungry mouth latched on as if for life. She looked down at the baby's face, now pink and flushed, and asked, “What's her name?”

John William didn't turn around when he answered.

“We—she wanted to name a little girl Celestia.”

“Celestia?" Gloria said, her voice tinged with amusement. “Such a big name for such a little girl.” She took the blanket that had been used to wrap the baby, draped it over her shoulder, and told John William it was safe to turn around. “What was your wife's name?”

“Katherine,” John William replied.

“Well, then, how about Kate?”

“Yes!" Sadie chimed in. “Celestia can be a middle name. She can be Katherine Celestia, and we—well, you—can call her Kate.”

“Well, that would be fine, I guess,” John William said. He seemed confused, overwhelmed, relieved. “Katherine Celestia MacGregan.”

Just then, another sound joined the room—a soft stirring from the basket on the bed.

“That," Gloria said, “is my son. His name is Danny-—” she stopped short, startled by the emptiness of his name. “Just Danny”

John William reached behind Gloria and took her child up in his arms.

“Hello, Danny,” he said. “Do you mind if I hold you for just a minute? Your mama's busy right now.”

Little Danny replied with a contented coo, and John William returned with him to the chair by the stove.

Soon a new quiet settled in the small room. One of peace, of life. Nobody spoke, not even to Sadie when she silently slipped out the door.

pring ushered life into the small camp of Silver Peak. As snows grew scarce and days grew warm, more and more men arrived to find their fortune in the mine. Two more girls came to claim their piece of that fortune in Jewell's house. Yolanda, a beautiful, dark-eyed spitfire from the Mexican Territory, brought added spice to the group. Donna was a stunning quadroon trained in the brothels of New Orleans. Shortly after she arrived, arrayed in finery and accompanied by five trunks of dresses, Jewell staged an impromptu welcome party complete with sandwiches and beer.

Gloria did not attend the party The cozy meals the women had shared around the table in the house's kitchen were a thing of the past. Yolanda and Donna brought new life to the house, and with it new customers. Men began to litter the parlor shortly after sundown and stayed in a steady stream late into the night. Under Jewell's watchful eye, a small piano was brought up the narrow mountain roads, and music pounded steadily whenever someone could play. The budding friendship Gloria had established with the girls faded as she became what Donna called “the mammy behind the curtains.”

Biddy and Mae visited occasionally, but they much preferred the jovial atmosphere of Jewell's bawdy parlor over the subdued mood of Gloria's cabin. Jewell herself rarely darkened Gloria's door, except for the occasional reminder of what Gloria owed her, and she soon made it clear that Gloria was welcome in the big house only when she was willing to work upstairs.

But Sadie remained a true friend. She brought trays of food from the kitchen and watched the babies so Gloria could get out for an occasional walk or breath of fresh air. She helped Gloria keep up with laundering the endless stream of diapers and dresses, the tiny scraps of cloth strung to dry right alongside rows of petticoats and stockings.

One afternoon, as the women hung the wash on the line, Sadie turned to Gloria and said, “Just how long do you think Jewell is going to put up with this?”

“What do you mean?” Gloria forced a note of innocence in her voice.

“Staying here. Not working.”

“I work." Gloria clipped a diaper to the line. “I'm in there every morning tidying up while you all sleep. I've been doing my part.”

“You know what I mean,” Sadie said. “You are a good-looking woman. You have your figure back. It's spring. The men have come back. They ask about you.” She took a step closer and lowered her voice. “Jewell asks about you, too.”

“I'm just not ready yet,” Gloria said. “MacGregan comes in the evenings to see his girl. I can't very well ask him to watch the babies so I can go entertain a few of his friends. What would he think?”

Sadie stared at her. “What do you think he thinks? He thinks you're
eine Dime.
The girls are starting to talk, Gloria. This is a whorehouse, not an orphanage.”

“Danny and Kate aren't orphans. They have—”

“Parents? Do you think you're that girl's mama? Do you think MacGregan plans to be Danny's new papa? He is using you, Gloria. You are his cow until he can get a real one up here.”

Gloria wrenched her arm from Sadie's amazingly strong grasp. “What do you know about it?”

“I know enough. I know he is planning to leave as soon as he can get a wagon and supplies together.”

Gloria felt as if she'd swallowed a rock. True, she and John William didn't talk much when he came to visit Kate. The times
were often awkward and silent, consisting of his holding his daughter, head bowed low over her tiny body, and low, whispered phrases Gloria could not understand. Then he would leave, tipping his hat and saying, “Thank you, ma'am.” But surely, Gloria thought, if he planned on leaving Silver Peak he would have said something.

“Did he tell you he was leaving?”

“No, of course he did not tell me.” Sadie moved to a second line and started hanging bed linens. “He never darkens the door of the house. Not since that night. But he talks to his friends, and his friends talk to me, and they say he is leaving after the next payout. They say he has promised his cabin to Bud Lindstrom in trade for some tools.”

Gloria looked at Danny and Kate, nestled together in a large basket on the ground. The basket itself sat on a strip of oilcloth so the dampness of the earth wouldn't seep through. They were both awake, and four tiny fists swung aimlessly in the air. They emitted tiny, grunting, happy noises. Gloria estimated that it had been about two hours since they last nursed, and she could feel her breasts growing heavy in anticipation of the next feeding. Kate first, since Danny was a little more patient, a little less pushy than the seemingly insatiable Kate. At first, Gloria worried that Kate would take all the milk, leaving none for her son, but through the weeks she became more and more amazed at the capabilities of her body to meet the needs of both children.

Now, as she looked at baby Kate, her tiny fist brought up so she could suck on her knuckled finger, Gloria was hit with a feeling of loss.

“Why wouldn't he say something about leaving?” Gloria said, more to the sheets than to Sadie. “What about his daughter?”

“Well, I have my theory,” Sadie said.

“Of course you do,” Gloria said, amused.

“I think he is a good man at heart. But he cannot know what to do, alone with a baby. He is the kind of man that—well, let me just say this. Be careful.”

“Careful? Why?”

“Careful that he doesn't take off in the middle of the night and leave you with both of those kids. A man on his own has got no use for a baby girl.”

“He wouldn't do that.”

“Oh no? Men do it all the time. Where is your baby's father? For that matter, where is your own?”

Gloria remembered searching the faces of the countless men who frequented her mother's room, studying their features, trying to find a small bit of herself in them.

“This is different,” Gloria said. “Danny's father is out there somewhere with no idea he has a child. My mother didn't know who my father was.”

“You think because he has made a few visits and held that baby, MacGregan is going to take her off to a farm?”

“He doesn't just hold her. It's like he—” Gloria searched for a word, “like he worships her.”

“Well, he can
worship
her all he wants, but he cannot feed her and she will not be any help on the farm. Is he coming to see her tonight?”

“I suppose. He comes most evenings.”

“Well, then,” Sadie said, clipping the last of the sheets on the line, “you must tell him what you know”

ou're early,” Gloria said as she opened her door to the heavy persistent knock. “Danny and Kate are still sleeping.”

John William normally arrived just at dusk, freshly washed after a day spent in the mine. Often Gloria caught the scent of a harsh soap as he breezed past, barely acknowledging her in a rush to take his daughter up into his arms.

But now it was just late afternoon. The girls hadn't even called her over for supper yet, and the babies were still down for their afternoon nap. She realized that this was a part of her life John William had no concept of. He took no part in the day-today routine of caring for two infants. As far as he knew, Kate spent her days nestled in her makeshift cradle waiting for the hour or so she would spend in her father's arms.