Brides of Iowa (12 page)

“I spoke with a friend of yours earlier—a young man, Mr. Ty Sawyer. He told me your general mercantile was for sale.”

Gideon nodded. “Yes sir, it is.”

“May I ask the price?”

The man’s inquiry might mean nothing if the bank wouldn’t sell the land he wanted to buy, but Gideon gave him the figure.

Mr. Behr stroked his chin. “That seems like a fair price.”

Gideon watched the gentleman scan the displays of merchandise and examine the rows of bins. “Does that mean you’re interested in buying the place?”

Mr. Behr ran his hand along the counter. “I need to study the feasibility of such a venture. I’ll be in the area for some time, and I’m not in any hurry.”

A glimmer of hope surged. Now if only he could persuade Mr. Sewell to sell him that land …

“Flossie, do think it would be all right if I’d bring my Bible back to the kitchen tonight and read? I don’t have any light at my place.” Tessa hung her apron on the peg near the door as the three women were leaving.

Flossie shook her head. “That ain’t a good idea. Kilgore don’t like burnin’ the lamps for an extra minute, the old skinflint. Iffen he sees the light burnin’ and comes in here to check, he’ll fire you for sure.”

Disappointment slumped Tessa’s shoulders, but she bid Flossie and Tillie good night and made her way out into the alley that led to her humble dwelling. Her feet came to a halt as soon as she turned the corner behind the hotel. Sitting beside the door of the shed was a small crockery vessel with a wooden lid.
Gideon.
She picked up the container and hesitated. Should she march straight to the mercantile this minute and plunk down eighteen cents? She frowned. The store was probably closed by now. Gideon was just being kind, like when he brought the burn salve to Flossie. Humility poked her. God would want her to respond in gratitude and graciousness. Very well. She’d wait and pay him for it first thing in the morning.

The moment she opened the shed door, little trespassers skittered along the wall behind Mama’s cabinet. Nasty critters.

She stamped her feet and thumped her fist against the lid of the trunk. “Shoo! I’m home, you wretched little beasts. You better not have been into my food again.” Her fingers groped in the cabinet to locate her bundle containing a corn muffin, an apple, and the cheese she’d purchased yesterday. Sure enough, there was another hole despite several thicknesses of paper. She touched course crumbs littering the shelf in the cabinet. The miserable rodents didn’t even have the manners to clean up after themselves.

Her stomach shuddered with distaste and at the same time complained of its emptiness. The cheese, apple, and muffin were all she had. She’d simply have to break off and discard the nibbled edges. It was that or go hungry. Whatever remained after she’d eaten would be safely protected in her new crock.

After the long day of standing at the worktable and waiting on the dining customers, her body begged for rest. Despite her weariness, she’d thought about Mama’s Bible all afternoon. Gideon’s invitation to church kindled a spark within her to renew her fellowship with God.

If she couldn’t use the kitchen lamp, perhaps there was another secluded corner where she’d find some light. The hotel lobby was for paying customers, not the likes of her. Tessa could only imagine Mr. Kilgore’s reaction if he found her sitting and leisurely reading like a grand lady. But it was the only place that offered a source of lamplight in the evening.

Well, not the only place. The saloons were open, and though there was plenty of light there, the idea of sitting in a saloon made Tessa’s flesh crawl. The reek of whiskey along with memories of her father’s drinking habits sent shivers of loathing down her spine. Her stomach clenched at the thought of entering a saloon for any reason, even just for the purpose of taking advantage of the light.

She splashed water in her face from the bucket in the corner and ran a broken comb through her hair. If she made herself more presentable, might she dare take Mama’s Bible and sit in the hotel lobby to read?

The Bible clutched under her arm, she walked down the alley toward the front of the building. When she reached the boardwalk and peered in the front window, the first person she saw was Mr. Kilgore. There was no chance of entering unnoticed.

Disappointment struck her again. Why did she think she could elevate herself to the level of the hotel patrons when she was nothing more than hired help?

She edged closer toward the front of the hotel. Perhaps there would be enough light coming from the window. She no sooner opened the book and found the broom straw she’d used to mark her place than the front door opened.

Mr. Kilgore stepped out and struck a match on the post to light his cigar.

She shrank as close to the shadow of the building as she could. He puffed away for a moment, and the noxious smoke floated in her direction, burning her eyes and throat. She tried to hold her breath, but as the smoke slithered around her, a cough escaped despite her effort to be invisible.

“What do you think you’re doing there, girl? You can’t loiter around here,” Mr. Kilgore’s voice boomed. “Employees use the side entrance. My clientele doesn’t need to see the likes of you dawdling by the front door. Run along.”

The stares of passersby and Mr. Kilgore’s glare gave her feet wings. The cool night air blew against her burning face as she scurried down the street. She didn’t stop until she was well away from the hotel.

Tinny piano music and coarse laughter accosted her ears. Just ahead on the boardwalk, patrons of the Blue Goose saloon came and went by way of the swinging door. There was certainly plenty of light coming from those front windows. Tiptoeing inside the establishment undetected seemed as unlikely as slipping past Mr. Kilgore in the hotel lobby. The longer she stood in the shadows staring at the saloon’s glow, the more she longed for a place where she could sit and read the passages Mama had underlined.

She sidled up next to the window and leaned against the building. She’d dropped the broom straw when Mr. Kilgore bellowed at her, but she had little trouble finding her place. The page was so dog-eared and its edges so worn from use that it had to be one of Mama’s favorites. The yellow glow from the window fell across the words her mother loved.

“The L
ORD
is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him…with my song will I praise him.”

Tessa doubted the discordant music coming from the saloon was the kind of song the psalmist had in mind, but she was reminded of the songs her mother taught her from the time she was a little girl. A sweet hum of memory seeped into her mind, and the words of Mama’s favorite hymn caressed her heart.

“Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature…”

Tessa tried to recall the rest of the words, but the noise from the saloon was so loud and distracting it was impossible to block it out. How Papa would laugh if he could see her now.

She pushed the thought from her mind. She was here to take advantage of the light. There would be time to recall those precious memories of hymn singing with Mama later. Maybe when she went to the mercantile to pay for the crock, she could also purchase a candle so she could read in the privacy of the shed. Regardless, she was determined to use this time to satisfy her hunger for worship. She read further down the page. Some of the psalms were familiar. She remembered her mother reading them to her.

“Thou art my hiding place….”

The idea of God hiding her comforted her heart. She read it over again. Was a promise that precious meant for someone like her? Did she dare claim it? She closed her eyes and envisioned God covering her with His hand.

“Looky here. C’mere, little darlin’.” A hand seized her arm and yanked her from her reverie. The unshaven face of a man she didn’t know loomed before her. His menacing eyes swept up and down her frame. “You ’n’ me’s gonna have a little party, honey.” His sour breath was so vile she nearly retched.

Her heart pounded, and her mouth was devoid of spit as the lecherous brute tightened his grip and pulled her toward the swinging doors. She planted her feet squarely, pulling away from the drunken man with all her strength. When she opened her mouth to protest, nothing came out except a raspy hiss.

G
ideon knocked on Miss Pearl’s door as the crickets and cicadas were tuning up for an evening serenade. When she opened the door, Gideon noticed small, pinched lines around her eyes and a lock of gray hair that had escaped its pins.

“Hello, Gideon. Come in.”

“Evening, Miss Pearl. I’m sorry to come by so late, but I needed to let you know we’ve run into a problem. Cully said we’re missing some parts for the stove. I sent the order today and stated it was a rush order, so I’m hoping it won’t take too long.”

The woman brushed her hair back as she nudged Gideon toward a kitchen chair. She sliced a large piece of gingerbread and set it in front of him with a glass of milk. “I’m certainly ready for Tessa to come and take over the baking.” Miss Pearl sat opposite Gideon with a cup of tea.

Gideon took a gulp of milk. “The challenge will be getting her to agree to our plan without thinking she’s taking charity.”

“Charity? Why, that’s silly. She’ll be working for her room and board by doing the baking for me. And what a blessing that will be!”

Gideon let out a rueful chuckle. “She’s got a streak of pride, and that’s for sure.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and recalled Tessa’s response when he urged her to take the food crock. He wondered if she’d found it on her doorstep yet. “She won’t take anything that she can’t pay for or thinks she hasn’t earned.”

Miss Pearl rolled her head from side to side and reached up to massage the back of her neck. “Do you think she’d agree to move in here right away while we’re waiting for the stove parts?”

Gideon forked up a piece of gingerbread and paused with the tempting morsel balanced an inch from his lips. “I’d like nothing better than to move her in here tonight. But if we have every detail of the plan in place before we present it to her, it will make it harder for her to say no.” He shoveled the large bite of gingerbread in his mouth and washed it down with another swallow of cold milk.

The thought of Tessa working herself into exhaustion every day at the hotel with nothing more than a ramshackle shed to call her home troubled him more deeply than he cared to admit. Gideon shook his head. “Every time I think of her over there in Kilgore’s kitchen, I could bite a horseshoe in half. I don’t like the way he treats her.”

“Henry Kilgore is a scoundrel, and that’s a fact.”

Gideon snorted and sank his teeth into the last bite of gingerbread. “I’ve got to get going. Martha will be wondering where I am.” He rose and moved toward the door but stopped abruptly. “Say, Miss Pearl, do you have any of Maggie’s kittens left?”

“They’re out on the back porch. Take your pick.”

He crossed the kitchen to the porch.

Three kitties curled up, overlapping each other in a basket. Maggie assumed a regal pose beside them and switched her orange-and-white tail while she surveyed him with aloof detachment.

Gideon scratched the top of the mother cat’s head. “You have some mighty pretty babies there, Miss Maggie. Would it be okay with you if I take this one with me?” He stooped down and gently eased a sleepy white kitten with orange patches into his arms.

The kitten, which was the image of its mother, immediately nestled against his chest.

“Much obliged, Maggie. I promise your baby will have a good home.”

The mother cat craned her neck as though telling her offspring good-bye and curled up with the remaining kittens.

Gideon returned to the kitchen and held up his choice for Miss Pearl’s approval.

“That one’s real playful. Martha will like her.”

Gideon grinned and rubbed the kitten’s chin. “She’s for Tessa. I hope this little one will be a good companion for her.”

Miss Pearl arched an eyebrow as she walked him to the door. “Why not just leave the kitten here? Tessa will be moving in here shortly.”

Gideon lifted his shoulders. “She has an urgent need for a cat’s hunting abilities.”

Miss Pearl shuddered and frowned. “Ooh, Gideon, we need to get her moved out of that awful shed and over here as soon as possible.”

“Believe me, I wish I could convince her this very minute. I telegraphed the order and left word for the agent at the freight depot in Dubuque to notify me as soon as the parts are on their way. I’ll let you know when they arrive. Thanks for the gingerbread and this little mouser.” He tucked the kitten inside his shirt as he descended the stairs and headed home.

Just as he turned the corner, his attention was drawn to the boisterous activity across the street at the Blue Goose Saloon. The raucous shouting and bawdy revelry shattered what should have been a peaceful evening. His irritation mounted when he thought of the immorality taking place inside. He skewed his face into a frown. Some of that activity seemed to be spilling out onto the boardwalk. Then his feet froze in place.

Tessa?
Was that Tessa out in front of the saloon? The man she was with left her and staggered back into the saloon while Tessa disappeared into the shadows, but the noise emanating from the place prevented Gideon from hearing anything they might have said to each other. The feelings he’d kept telling himself were purely friendship exploded in his chest, and something twisted in his gut. Did Kilgore convince her to take the saloon job?