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- Christina Cole
9781631054617HeLovesMeCole Page 9
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But a short time later, after she’d helped her father to his room for his afternoon nap, she sat in the downstairs parlor with her mother and the worries came pouring out, along with the truth. She couldn’t go on lying.
“What am I going to do, Mama?” she asked, twisting the lace edging on her collar. “I feel awful.”
“You did the right thing, honey. I mean, lying isn’t good, but let’s think of this more as a way of making the truth palatable for your father, shall we?”
“Yes. Palatable.” Emily managed a hesitant smile. Leave it to her mother to find a gracious way to express it.
“It would kill him if he knew you’d been asked to leave school.” Her mother pushed a strand of graying hair behind her ear. For the first time, Emily realized how much older the woman appeared. She saw the lines on her mother’s face. How was it that in an instant, her entire childhood seemed to have been whisked away from her? She couldn’t go on being a little girl, comforted by her mother and father, living a quiet, sheltered life.
This moment, though perhaps small and insignificant in the grander scheme of things, marked a turning point for her. She must become an adult now, accept responsibility for herself and think about finding her own way in the world.
Her head spun. For such a long time, she’d talked about becoming a teacher, helping others, doing good. But that plan had been little more than a temporary course. In truth, she’d always envisioned her role in life as that of wife and mother. She would grow up, she would teach for a time, and then she would marry Benjamin, and they would live happily ever after. Maybe they’d never spoken the words directly, but they’d both planned their lives that way. At least, that’s what she’d believed. Apparently Ben had something very different in mind for his life.
“But, what now? Sooner or later, we have to tell Pa something. I’ll have to tell him that I’m not going back to school. How am I going to explain it?”
Mama drummed her fingers against the tabletop, a habit that showed she was thinking. “You don’t have your certificate, so you won’t be able to get a position teaching, but perhaps…” More drumming. She broke into a smile and looked up. “Perhaps you could find employment with a family.”
“You mean…as a governess?”
“No, that would still require credentials. I’m thinking more about a mother’s helper.” She moved her chair closer and smiled. “I know exactly the right family. Lucille Henderson came to see me a few days ago. Her family is about to welcome a new member next summer.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Another baby?”
“Yes. Only one this time, I believe.” She laughed softly. “Another set of twins might be a bit much to handle. Actually, she’s having a time taking care of the three little ones she has now.”
Emily smiled, thinking of adorable Faith Henderson and her younger siblings. Faith wasn’t actually their daughter. She was Tom’s niece, but the Hendersons had legally adopted her. She’d been with them since she was only a few months old.
“I’m sure Lucille has her hands full.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” Mama’s sweet laughter brought a smile to Emily’s face. “Hope and Charity are nine months old now, and they’re crawling about underfoot everywhere. And Faith is quite a rambunctious little girl.”
“And now Lucille’s carrying another baby? Isn’t that exhausting, Mama?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve advised her to stay in bed as much as she can, but it’s impossible for her to get all the rest she needs.”
“Are you thinking perhaps I could help her?” Emily’s ears pricked up.
“I think it would be an excellent position for you.”
Emily’s breath caught. Mama must not know that Benjamin was working for the Hendersons, otherwise she would never have made such a suggestion. She hesitated, reluctant to add secrecy to the little lie she and her mother were concocting.
The thought of being at the horse farm, close enough to keep an eye on Benjamin, had a definite appeal. Of course, it could be heart-wrenching, as well, if he truly had feelings for Della. “I’m not sure, Mama.” Much would depend on how things went at the Christmas dance. “Let me think on it, all right?”
“You don’t have to give me your answer immediately. I told her I’d ask around. Let me know when you’ve come to a decision. But, for now, not a word about any of this to your father. Let him go on believing that you’re only home for the holidays.” Sadness tinged her words.
“He’s not doing well.”
“No, not well at all.” Mama squared her shoulders. “We all have our time upon this earth, granted to us by the Lord. It’s not up to us to say how long our time will be. It’s all up to Him.” She glanced heavenward. “I pray your father will make it through the winter.”
Emily reached out and held her mother’s hand.
Chapter Six
Ben stepped into the saloon and took a quick glance around. For a moment, he stood at the doorway as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Soon the regular evening crowd would fill the place. Old Pete would beat a few tunes from the piano, and raucous shouts and cheers would rise up as the dancing girls strutted onto the stage in their short, short skirts, their breasts all but spilling out of their tightly-cinched corsets, and their delicate, lacy black stockings driving men to madness.
Little wonder the Red Mule drew so many lonesome gentlemen through its broad, swinging doors. A man could watch the show, drown his sorrows, and try his luck at the gaming tables. Those who got lucky could fully satisfy their lusts with the working girls upstairs.
Catching sight of his father at the bar, Ben tucked his hat under his arm and strode forward. Why he felt compelled to check up on his old man, he wasn’t sure. Maybe because that was what a son was supposed to do.
Or maybe he somehow felt guilty for how quickly he’d turned away when he’d gone to the bunkhouse with Tom.
Whatever the reason, something within him held him duty-bound.
Maybe he just needed reassurance that his father wasn’t causing any trouble in town.
“So, you find a place to stay? You get yourself settled in, Pa?” Ben took a seat next to the man, gestured toward the bartender, and ordered two shots of whiskey. “How about work? Any prospects?”
John Brooks turned a wary eye. “Well, hell, boy. What is this, some sort of inquisition? Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me how damned sorry you are, and going on about how damned much you care.” He grabbed the shot of whiskey from the bar-top and threw it down his gullet. “I’m doing just fine, Benny. Just fine.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t need you checking up on me.”
“Just thought I’d stop by and have a drink or two. I saw you sitting here and figured to be sociable, Pa.” Ben picked up his whiskey. “Frankly, I don’t much care what happens to you. All the same, you are my father. If there’s something you need, something that will help you make a good life for yourself, I’ll provide it if I can.”
“Yeah, right. That’s why you were so quick to stand up for me.” He held up his empty shot glass. “Another round,” he called out, jerking his head toward his son. “I’m buying this one.”
Ben remained silent until the bartender turned away. “Look, Pa, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know where you were, whether or not you had any opportunity to—”
“Hell, boy! You think I’d waste my sweet time purloining some cheap strand of imitation pearls? You got that all wrong.” Lifting one hand as though pronouncing a solemn oath, he shook his head. “I swear, son. I didn’t steal a damned thing from those folks. Would have been nice if you’d stepped up and spoke a good word or two, but I reckon I can understand why you didn’t.”
Ben felt heat creeping up his neck. He quickly found himself wishing he hadn’t come into the Red Mule. Of course his father would take him to task.
“I spoke up for you before,” he pointed out. “I put in a few good words when you came looking for work.” A very few words
, truth be told, but his father didn’t need to know that. In the end, Tom Henderson hired him for reasons of his own, not because of anything Ben had to say on the matter, and certainly not because of any sterling qualities his father possessed.
“Yeah, I guess you did.” The older Brooks nodded then broke into a big grin as Old Pete tore into a fast-paced rendition of Don’t Tell Papa, currently one of the most popular songs at the saloons. He swallowed down another shot of whiskey and turned to his son. “Damned if I’m not about as chuckleheaded as a prairie dog.” As he got to his feet, he leaned toward Ben, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “You sure as hell didn’t come in here to hang around with me.” With a sweeping gesture, he pointed toward the girls prancing across the stage, feathered boas wrapped sinuously around their necks. “You came out to get yourself a piece of tail.”
“Those girls are dancers, Pa. They don’t turn tricks.”
“No, but they sure get a man horny with all those wicked moves. Gets him in the mood for the little nymphs upstairs.” He poked a forefinger at Ben’s chest. “How about we head up those steps right now, find us a gal who’ll do us both? Together,” he added. “Might be good for me to see you in action, boy. You’re still awful young. I could probably teach you a thing or two.”
Ben wasn’t sure which was most disgusting in his father’s suggestion—the thought of having sex with one of the Red Mule whores or the idea of his old man playing the voyeur and watching every move he made.
“Pa, no, I didn’t come here to get laid.”
“Doesn’t matter if that was your first intention or not.” He shrugged. “You’re here now, and those gals are getting my blood hot.” He jerked his head toward the stage. “I’ve got a bit of coin in my pocket. Earned it honest, I did. Been doing a few odd jobs here and there.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I’ll pay, son. Just tell me your preferences. Blonde? Brunette? Redhead? You like the big jugs or—” He stopped and scowled. “Don’t go shaking your head at me. Get your ass up and let’s get this party started.”
“You go on, Pa. I’m heading back to the Henderson place.”
His father eyed him with a sorrowful look. “You’ve never had a woman before,” he said in a quiet voice. “I can see it now. That look in your eye. That set of your jaw. Hell, boy, how old are you?”
“Doesn’t matter, Pa. I’ve got no interest in any of Jake Walker’s fancy girls. You go on, do what you want.” He nodded toward the stairs. “I’m heading back to the horse farm.”
John Brooks let out a long, slow breath. “Sorry to hear it, Benny.”
His eyes raked over his son’s face, studying every thought, every feeling, every emotion there to read. And Ben knew there were plenty of them. He didn’t care. Let his father think whatever he wanted.
“See you around, Pa.”
“You got yourself a girl.” Not a question. A statement of fact. “That’s why you’ve got no interest in the pretty little doves here. Damn it, Benny, it’s a mistake, you know, when a man starts thinking he’s in love. Makes a man weak. Gives a woman too much power, too much control.” He sighed and turned away, then glanced over his shoulder. “You’ll come to regret it, and when you do, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Enjoy the night, Pa.” Ben grabbed his hat and headed for the door.
* * * *
On Friday evening, as she prepared for the dance, Emily held her breath and gazed at her reflection in the tall, oval mirror. She spun around, admiring the new dress Lucille had designed and sewn for her. A perfect fit.
She had picked it up earlier that afternoon. While visiting, Emily had also discussed Mama’s suggestion and she’d been hired on the spot, although she wouldn’t begin her duties until after the first of the year. The job didn’t sound especially difficult, and the Hendersons were willing to pay reasonably well. Her only disappointment that day was in not seeing hide nor hair of Benjamin. She’d hoped to have a word or two with him and casually mention the upcoming dance.
Emily sighed, then turned her attention once more to her new gown. Made from a richly-hued amethyst satin, it showed her fair complexion to its fullest advantage. The lace-trimmed neckline dipped slightly, yet not enough to be considered immodest by any means. With a narrow, cinched waist, and a skirt made with layers of delicate ruffles, the evening dress accentuated her femininity. Truly a lovely creation.
If only she were wearing the lovely frock for Benjamin and not for someone so unappreciative as Willie Morse. Already she’d begun to have second thoughts about attending the dance at the social hall. She could always feign a headache.
Of course, that would mean dispatching a courier to deliver a message to her hopeful suitor, and it would require more explanations for Mama. Easier, instead, to go to the dance as she’d planned. Closing her eyes, she made a heartfelt wish that this little scheme she’d concocted would be successful.
So many things could go wrong. Ben might not bother to come to the dance. Of course, he’d still hear talk, wouldn’t he? Someone would surely mention Emily and how radiant she looked…on the arm of William Howard Morse, Jr.
Another thought squeezed at her heart.
Ben might come to the dance with dark-haired Della on his arm. To see the two of them together would be more than Emily’s heart could bear.
She choked back tears. It wouldn’t do to spoil her appearance by crying.
She’d applied only the lightest dusting of face powder and the most delicate touch of lip stain. Emily had no wish to show up looking like…what was it Ben had called her? A cheap whore!
A rapping at the door summoned her from her thoughts.
“Come in.”
Her mother pushed open the door. She smiled at Emily. “You look lovely, dear. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”
“Thank you, Mama.” Not wanting to be drawn into a lengthy discussion, she turned back to the mirror. She plucked a lavender velvet bow from her dressing table and carefully pinned it atop the cascade of blonde curls. “How does that look?” She cast a glance over her shoulder.
“Perfect. Willie won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
At the mention of the young man’s name, Emily shuddered, but Mama must not have noticed. She leaned back, clasped her hands together, and beamed at her daughter.
“Your father and I are very pleased that you’re going to the dance with Willie. I have to tell you, honey, it’s a relief to us both that you’re no longer going on about Ben the way you used to do.”
“Mama, please, I don’t want to have this conversation now.”
“All I’m saying is that we feel you’ve made a very wise decision. We want the best for you, honey. We know you and Benjamin seemed to fancy each other when you were younger, but you’re growing up now. It’s time to put aside childish trifles and consider your future from a more serious perspective.”
“It’s only one evening of my life.” Emily whirled around and flounced across the room. “Honestly, Mama, to listen to you, you’d think I’d agreed to an engagement.” The thought brought another shudder. “It’s nothing serious. You’ve suggested that I broaden my horizons a bit. You’ve told me I shouldn’t settle for the first beau who comes courting. Willie mentioned the dance when I spoke to him one evening in Denver, and I accepted the invitation.” A sudden thought brightened her countenance. “For all I know, Mama, he might have forgotten all about it by now. He might not even show up.”
“Oh, I’m certain he’ll remember, and I’m sure the two of you will have a very good time.” She crossed the room, picked up Emily’s long, white gloves, and handed them to her. “Nothing would please your father more than to know you’ve found a suitable husband and have made a good marriage for yourself. Willie Morse has quite a propitious future ahead of him. You know he’ll follow in his father’s footsteps, study the law, and will no doubt have a successful practice of his own within a few years. In time, he might even become a judge like his father.”
“And Benjamin, on the other hand,” Emily threw out, “is likely to follow in his father’s footsteps, murder some innocent man in cold blood, and end up incarcerated. Is that what you and Pa truly think?”
Red-faced, her mother averted her gaze. “Sons do tend to take after their fathers, honey. It’s something a young woman needs to consider when she comes of age.”
“Maybe Ben will take after Pa instead of his own father,” Emily suggested. “Or Joshua.”
“Yes, of course. Your father and I both pray we were good influences upon him when he was coming up. Joshua, too.” She reached for Emily’s hands, and her features tightened. “Still, blood is blood.”
“Mama, please. I don’t want to talk about this.” She’d heard the same concerns too many times before.
“There’s something else we need to discuss.” Mama sat on the edge of Emily’s bed. She reached around and carefully re-arranged the frilly pillows. She always liked to keep her hands busy when she talked. “You know better than to hide things from me, Emily. You knew Ben had left the J Bar K. You knew he’d gone to work for Tom Henderson.” Her gaze never wavered. “I only heard about it today.”
“What difference does it make?”
“You can’t take the job caring for Lucille’s girls. Not with Benjamin working there. It wouldn’t be proper.”
Emily’s ringlets bobbed as her head jerked up. “Don’t you trust me, Mama? You and Pa have raised me to know right from wrong, and it’s not as though I’ll be spending my time with Benjamin. He’ll be doing his job. I’ll be doing mine. There’s no cause to worry.” She hated being deceptive, but at times, Mama and her strict, old-fashioned standards drove her to it. “Besides,” she added, lowering her gaze, “I’m not all that interested in Ben any more. Yes, we shared a close friendship when we were children, but we’ve both grown up a lot since then.”