Soiled Dove (9 page)

“We should be in Pueblo tomorrow about midday.

I spoke to the conductor earlier and he assured me we were making excellent time. I’m sure you’ll be glad to be able to walk around again. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said with a wisp of a smile. “The bruises on my face are much lighter now. The others will take longer, but no one will see them.”

“You’re still a beautiful young woman, Retta,”

Cyrus said sheepishly. “You and Amelia have a lot to look forward to.”

“Thanks to you and Hettie. Someday I’ll repay you for everything you’ve done.”

“No need, my dear. I’m beginning a new life myself and, whether or not you intended it, you’re helping me do that.”

“Like I’ve always said, you’re a good man, Reverend. Not perfect, but still a decent man.”

“DID YOU SEE the mountains?” Amelia asked excitedly as she leaned across Loretta to peer out the passenger car window.

“Pretty hard to miss them,” Loretta answered. She pushed her hands through her thick hair and tried to tame the stray tendrils that had fallen over her face.

She would have killed for a tub of warm water to wash away the coal grit from the engine that had drifted through the cracked windows of the car. It seemed to coat everything with a fine film of black powder. As the train slowed on its approach into the Pueblo station a little before noon, Cyrus and Hettie began gathering their belongings. They were all eager to finally be able to stand and walk outside the confines of the train car.

Although they all would have liked an overnight layover in Pueblo, the stagecoach to Trinidad would depart a scant two hours after the train pulled in. It was a rush to locate a wagon to haul their luggage, everything they each owned in the world, from the train depot to the Wells Fargo office and then locate a nearby place to eat.

It was a little after two in the afternoon when Cyrus helped Hettie onto the Wells Fargo stagecoach that would take them the final sixty miles to their new life. The driver and station manager hoisted the travelers’ luggage into the baggage section at the rear of the coach and tied them down. Cyrus took Amelia’s hand to assist her aboard while Loretta stood back, seemingly mesmerized by the mountains to the west of the town. The driver and his shotgun rider climbed onto the seat over the coach. The driver picked up the reins for his team of six horses while his companion brought a rifle across his lap and adjusted himself on the seat.

The bearded driver looked over the side of the coach and pulled his hat down firmly. “We’re ready to head out as soon as you’re on board.”

Cyrus nodded and took Loretta’s elbow and guided her toward the door of the coach. “This might be rougher than the train, Loretta. Can you make it a little farther?”

“I’m fine, Cyrus,” Loretta nodded.

She placed a foot on the lowest step. Cyrus gently lifted her up while Amelia took her hands and pulled her inside. Cyrus stepped up into the coach and pulled the steps inside before closing and securing the door.

“If you want to sleep I can lower the window shade,” he said.

“How long will it take to get to Trinidad?” Hettie asked.

“A few hours, hopefully before dark falls,” Cyrus said, patting her hand.

Loretta remained quiet most of the afternoon as she watched the mountains draw closer and loom larger. Lush green carpeted the hillsides and bright white and yellow wildflowers sprang up and seemed to flow from the tree line in wind-blown waves. The coach eventually made its way across a bridge over a rock-strewn river and she watched as blue and white water tumbled over boulders and along the stretches of rapids farther downstream.

“What is that river?” she asked.

“Must be the Purgatoire River,” Cyrus said. “The gentleman at the stagecoach office in Pueblo said it ran through Trinidad, so we must be getting close.

Got its name from the French trappers who used to roam this area. Most folks can’t pronounce it and call it the Picket Wire.”

“
Purgatoire
is French for purgatory, isn’t it?”

Hettie asked.

“I guess things weren’t always hospitable around here.”

Hettie looked at Cyrus and smiled. “It seems as if you’ve come to a place in need of your services, if the river’s name is any indication.”

Loretta kept her eyes closed, but listened to the chit-chat between Cyrus and Hettie. She had first noticed the way they interacted before they left St.

Joe. Cyrus had held Hettie’s hand many times during the two weeks before Loretta was sufficiently recovered to travel. She had seen the way Hettie looked at Cyrus when she thought no one else was watching. A touch here or there, something humorous whispered between them. Loretta smiled to herself.

Hettie claimed to be a sinner, as Cyrus certainly was, and perhaps that was exactly what he needed.

Another sinner who could understand his spiritual anguish and try to heal it while healing her own.

Chapter Eight

DESPITE LORETTA’S INSISTENCE that she was feeling much better, Cyrus helped her from the coach before making his way to the rear of the conveyance to claim their belongings. While they waited, Hettie made inquiries about hotel accommodations for a night or two.

“Are you feeling all right, Retta?” Amelia asked as the two young women sat down on a bench outside the station to wait for Cyrus and Hettie.

“Just tired,” Loretta said. “I hope I can sleep without the constant click-clack of the train wheels on the rails.”

“I don’t think anything could keep me from sleeping tonight as long as I’m horizontal.”

Cyrus joined them shortly afterward and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “I’ve arranged to have our luggage delivered as soon as Miss Hettie tells me where to have it taken. Then I have to find the deacon from my new congregation. Hopefully, we won’t be more than a day or two at a hotel.”

“Then where will we go?” Amelia asked.

“My new church provides a home for its minister and his family.”

“How are you going to explain all of us, Cyrus?

We’re not your family,” Loretta asked.

“When we stopped a couple of days ago I wired the church and explained that due to unexpected circumstances, I was bringing my sister and sister-in-law with me. If anyone asks, Amelia is my sister and you, Miss Loretta, are my sister-in-law.”

“Considering how close we’ve been in the past, I suppose we are almost like family,” Loretta teased.

Crimson crept up Cyrus’ face as the two women laughed. “What’s so funny?” Hettie asked as she joined them on the platform.

“We were just discussing our new little family,”

Loretta said. “Where will you be staying?”

“Oh, the head of the local school board has promised me a place to live. It will take them a day or two to make the final arrangements. In the meantime, the clerk told me we should be able to find suitable rooms at the Columbian Hotel. He said it wasn’t far from here.”

“I’ll find a carriage,” Cyrus said.

Loretta took a deep breath. “I think I’d rather walk, if no one minds. My limbs are stiff from sitting so long.”

Amelia entwined her arm with Loretta’s and said,

“That sounds wonderful to me as well.”

Cyrus got directions to the hotel from the station master and arranged to have their luggage delivered before they set off on a leisurely stroll to explore their new surroundings. The small group of travelers wandered slowly along the streets of Trinidad.

Loretta was amazed at how modern parts of the growing city seemed. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the dusty, wild place she had imagined. The group checked into the Columbian Hotel and settled quickly into their rooms. Cyrus would have a separate room while Amelia, Hettie, and Loretta would share a room with two beds. As soon as their luggage was delivered they unpacked enough clothing for a couple of days.

Hettie freshened up and re-twisted her hair into a bun set close against the back of her scalp.

“You girls rest. I am going to arrange an appointment with the head of the local school board and perhaps take a peek at the school. Reverend Langford will be meeting with the deacons from his church, but should be back before dark. Then perhaps we can all sit down to a good meal for a change.”

Hettie pinned her hat in place and picked up her satchel. “Do I look presentable?” Hettie had changed into an ankle-length blue gingham dress, trimmed with white scalloped fringe accenting the collar and sleeves. A belt surrounded her waist and showed off a surprisingly trim figure.

“You look like a school marm,” Loretta said with a grin.“Then I have achieved the proper appearance.”

Hettie smiled as she readjusted her glasses and left the room.

Amelia stretched out on the bed closest to the window. “God! This feels so good after sleeping sitting up for days.”

Loretta lay down next to her young friend. “Do you think it’s more comfortable than the beds at Jack’s?”

“I don’t give a damn, Retta. At least I’m not going to have worry about some fat, panting old fart pawing me and trying to ride me like I was wearing a saddle,”

Amelia snorted.

“You know, you’re going to have to be mindful of your language now. It wouldn’t be seemly for one of Miss Hettie’s students or a preacher’s sister.”

“I know, but I don’t have to pretend when I’m with you.”

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for over a week, Amelia. I would probably be dead now if you hadn’t come back for me.”

Amelia couldn’t meet Loretta’s eyes. “What happened to you was my fault,” she said quietly.

“Camille told Jack about what we said that morning.

When he called me into his office, he hit me. I…I was scared.”

Loretta smiled at her. She knew her beating by Jack had been partially Amelia’s fault, but she knew Amelia wasn’t much more than a child. It would have been easy for a man like Jack to frighten her into talking.

“You did the Christian thing in the end,” Loretta said to soothe Amelia’s guilt.

“Yeah, that’s us,” Amelia laughed. “A couple of real Christian whores. Now we’re livin’ with our very own minister.”

They burst into giggles until tears ran down their cheeks. Finally Amelia sat up slightly and propped her head on her hand. “Were you…I mean had you ever…you know, been with a man before you were at Jack’s?” she asked shyly.

Loretta stared at the ceiling and blinked hard.

“Yeah, sort of. My father died when I was ten. My mother remarried about a year later. It was hard for her to keep us going taking in sewing from time to time. When Horace offered to marry her, she accepted to give us a better life. But I was never comfortable with the way he stared at me. My body filled out a little earlier than some of the other girls and I felt awkward. A few months after they married, my mother’s sister fell ill and she went to help her out for a few weeks. A day or two after Mother left Horace began brushing up against me and stuff like that.

Then one night he came into my room and climbed into my bed. He’d been drinking and passed out before anything happened. There were nights when I wasn’t as lucky.” Loretta swallowed hard at the memory. “The day I turned sixteen I packed what I could carry and left home.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Retta. Did you tell your mama?”

“She didn’t believe me even though it was going on practically under her nose. She couldn’t afford to lose her meal ticket. I guess she thought it was a small enough price to pay.” Loretta snorted. “At least he wasn’t pawing her.”

Loretta flashed a grin at Amelia and continued.

“Then I met Jack and he saved me from living on the streets and begging for food. Whoring was a way to pay him back. What about you?”

“I never been with a man before I went to St. Joe.

My folks died in a flood and no one else in our family wanted to take me in. They were all mostly dirt-scratch farmers and had their own families to worry about. So I left and Jack saved me, too. I thought I could just cook or clean or something domestic like that to repay him. I didn’t know what he did until I was already beholden to him. I tried. Honest, Retta, I did. But I couldn’t do those things you and the others did.”

“Don’t judge me, Amelia.”

“I’m not! You were always kinder to me than the others.”

“You’re a kid.”

“I always thought I’d like to have kids of my own one day, but now…I don’t know.”

“You’re still young, honey. You have a chance to start over. So don’t worry, some day you’ll find a fine young man who’ll treat you like you should be treated.”

“As long as I don’t tell him I was a prostitute,”

Amelia muttered with a frown.

‘Except for that one unfortunate night you were never more than a bar girl. Don’t forget that. It’s your choice to tell or not, but if a man really loves you he won’t care.”

“Do you believe that?”

“For you, I do.”

“You’re still young too, Retta.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been around the block so many times I lost count. I’ll never be able to tell anyone about my past and hope to hell I never run into an old customer.”

They lay on the bed, each absorbed in their own thoughts until they drifted off to sleep. An hour later Loretta blinked her eyes open and rubbed her face, wincing at the soreness in her jaw. She slid off the bed and crossed to look at her face in the mirror hanging over the small dresser. Her bruises had faded to a pale yellowing around her eyes and along her jaw line. She poured water from a pitcher into a large bowl alongside the dresser and scrubbed her face and arms. She dug make-up from one of the valises and applied it to the bruised areas until she was satisfied they wouldn’t be noticed. She ran a brush through her long wavy hair. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and fashioned it into a long braid that hung down the middle of her back.

During their walk to the hotel Loretta noticed a sign in the window of a hole-in-the-wall café advertising for a waitress and she planned to ask about the job. She could live with Cyrus, but would eventually have to find a way to support herself. She looked through her clothes until she found a plain light green dress. It was one of the new dresses Hettie had purchased for her and the garment fit almost perfectly. Without her corset she was amazed at how comfortable the dress was. It was a plain dress, but at least it didn’t look like it belonged in a whorehouse.