Ace's Wild (10 page)

Luisa stopped them. “Wait. I must fetch the quilt.”

Petunia had forgotten about the quilt. She passed the basket to Terrance. He hugged it tightly.

A few minutes later, Luisa returned with a blue-and-white folded quilt in her arms. She rubbed it softly with her fingertips, before thrusting it at Petunia.

“This is for the boy. For his dreams.”

As soon as Petunia took the offering, Antonio put his arm around his wife and pulled her into his side. Luisa wiped at her eyes with her apron. Antonio brushed her hair with his lips and murmured, “It is good,
carina
. This is good.”

“Say thank-you,” Petunia told Terrance quietly.

He did, hugging Lancelot’s box and his basket of food. She clutched the quilt and suddenly wondered if she really knew what she was getting into. This simple rescue of a small boy was gaining momentum faster than she could contain. She wanted the town involved, but seeing the emotion in Luisa’s eyes, the torment in Antonio’s, the hope in Terrance’s, she just didn’t know... Taking a breath, she reminded herself she was just the bridge. Once she had someone hired to manage the school, and the proper people convinced the boarding school was their pet project, she could be on her way. She just had to get through tonight. That was all. Just tonight.

CHAPTER SIX

A
CE
SECURED
T
YSON
H
AYLEN
’
S
house in two days. She didn’t know how he did it and didn’t ask. She was just grateful for the space. A rambunctious child and a happy bunny were a lot to fit in her small, two-room house. She’d been confident her search for someone to run the school would have been equally as successful, but it hadn’t happened the way Petunia had planned. She’d given herself three days to find a house mistress for the Providence, as she’d named the school. The first day she’d gotten one applicant. An elderly woman too frail to even climb the front stairs without help. Day two she got three more applicants. One woman with the smell of gin on her breath, another who could only watch the children between noon and dark but couldn’t stay the night, and the third was a man whose motives she completely did not trust.

On day three, no one showed up at all, and the reality that this might just not work out was slowly eating at her confidence. As she sat in the kitchen after school ended at three o’clock, making a snack for Terrance, she was beginning to wonder if she was going to have to send to one of the bigger towns, San Antonio or such, to find someone who would care for the house. If she had to do that it was going to set her back another month or even two, and she really couldn’t afford that. The passes closed in the winter.

The knock at the door was loud. Before she could get out of her chair, it came again hard and fast. Someone wanted in. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her stomach dropped.

“Stay here,” she told Terrance. He looked at her, his hand on Lancelot in his lap, and nodded. She eyed the gun Ace had left her by the back door. Guns made her nervous.

Maybe it was Brian.

Grabbing the gun, she shook her head. If it were Brian Winter, he wouldn’t knock. He’d burst in all righteous indignation and with the aggression of a drunken boor. She set the gun back against the wall. Straightening her skirts and smoothing her hair, she walked sedately through the house. Terrance didn’t need to live in any more fear than necessary. Peeking out the stained-glass side windows she could just make out the distorted yet unmistakable shape of a skirt. Her visitor was a woman. She opened the front door.

The sight that greeted her was just as brash as the knock. A garishly blowsy woman stood there clutching the hands of two children. The boy was around Terrance’s age, his hair slicked back from his hostile face. Water still dripped from his hair, dampening the shoulders of his freshly ironed, well-worn shirt. At some point it had probably been blue but now was kind of a washed-out gray. His pants hung loose on him, but were still too short.

The little girl was maybe a couple years younger. Her blond hair was pulled back tight and clearly ringlets had been forced into what was normally straight hair. Both children were well scrubbed. Both looked as scared as all get-out.

Petunia looked up from the children to take in the woman with them. She was a sight to behold. It was hard to tell her age; there was so much powder on her face. Her blue eyes were heavily lined in black kohl. Her hair was swept up into a messy arrangement, and her generous breasts all but spilled out of her loose top.

That might have been shame that flashed across her face as Pet asked, “May I help you?” but if it was, it was gone so fast it left no lingering impression. Before she could double-check, the woman’s expression became just as brash as the knock and the outfit.

“I’m right sorry I didn’t have time to dress proper for this.” She pushed the children in the door. Before Petunia could protest, she followed behind them, a cloud of perfume swirling along. Petunia choked and waved her hand in front of her face.

Hustling the children into the adjoining parlor, the woman explained as calmly as if she were making sense, “I need my last payment, and if I don’t show up tonight I won’t get it, and there won’t be time after we get settled in here for me to change.” With a wave of her hand she indicated her outfit. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where she worked. “So this will just have to do.”

As explanations went, it didn’t cover much. “Do?”

The woman motioned the children into a chair. “Sit,” she ordered, before turning back to face her. “My name’s Hester.”

“Hester?” Pet knew she sounded like a parrot, but she just couldn’t quite figure out what a soiled dove from the saloon was doing in her living room with two children in tow. She looked on the porch. There weren’t any suitcases. “Were you looking to place your children here?”

The woman snapped straight so fast her hair crackled, and dust from the starch floated in the sunbeams. “If I haven’t abandoned my children before this, I’d not be starting now, just when things are going my way.”

She said that as if that made sense. Petunia took a deep breath, counted to five and slowly released it. “I’m sorry. Could you tell me, please, what you are doing here?”

Hester reached into her bodice and pulled out a piece of paper. As she unfolded it, Petunia recognized her flyer. The one that she’d put up at the store.

“I came for the job.”

Oh, dear.
Petunia almost said that out loud, but caught herself. She closed the door quietly and joined them in the parlor. “I don’t think you understand the position.”

“You’re looking for somebody that can watch after children.”

“Yes”

“Well, I’m a mother of two, and I was the oldest of twelve growing up. One thing I know is children.”

“Yes, but the other requirements of the position are somebody who’s—” how did she put this delicately? “—got the background that will inspire confidence in the good citizens funding this home.”

“You mean someone who’s not a whore.”

Well, that was one way to do it. “To be indelicate, yes.”

Hester snorted. “Well, I wasn’t always a whore. There was a time back when I had these two, when I was a wife and mother and as respectable as you can get.”

Looking at her now, Petunia found that hard to believe.

“But then their pa ran off to find gold and stopped sending money back,” Hester continued.

“I see.” It was a common enough story.

“I followed him out here hoping to catch up with him, but turns out he’d done divorced me.”

“How can he divorce you without your permission?”

“That’s what I asked. Apparently, it doesn’t take much. A lie here. Some gold dust there...” She shrugged.

Pet felt a stirring of sympathy.

“And he married up with some pretty little thing, got a second family and isn’t at all interested in this one anymore.”

Petunia glanced at the children, and that stirring of sympathy deepened. There was something vaguely familiar about both. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on...

“So I took my maiden name back, Mansfield, and did what I had to do to feed my kids.”

It was another common story. There were questions in regard to recourse Petunia would have asked anyone else, but Hester struck her as a woman who would have exhausted all avenues.

“I’ve been a whore going on three years. I was a respectable woman for thirty before that, and I aim to go back to it.”

“I see.” She didn’t know what else to say. And since Hester’s feet were firmly planted, she didn’t see any other option other than to conduct an interview. Smoothing her skirts, she sat on the faded wingback chair near the archway. “Well, what are your qualifications?”

Hester looked around the shabby, dusty interior. “Number one, I’m a heck of a lot better housekeeper than this.”

Petunia had an immediate urge to pick up a rag and dust. As if reading her mind, Hester started straightening the pile of papers in the corner.

“The house requires work,” Petunia admitted.

“I’m not afraid of hard work.”

No, Hester didn’t look like she was. She wasn’t a particularly tall woman or a particularly broad woman. There was just something very...solid about her. Something more substantial than her bountiful bosom, and if she’d had any other background than the one she had, Petunia might have pursued the application further, but she was having a hard enough time getting the good people of this community to crack their wallets open to take care of the less fortunate. The squawk that would arise if she put Hester in charge... She shook her head. All the sweet talk in the world wouldn’t squash that.

“I’m sorry. It’s just not possible.”

Hester looked up. “Anything’s possible.” Dropping the advertisement neatly onto the table, she folded her arms across her chest. “I understand you got stranded here yourself.”

“I did.”

“And by the grace of God, you were able to get a teaching position.”

“Yes.”

“And if you hadn’t been able to, what would you have done?”

She didn’t want to say,
Telegraphed my father
, so she settled for, “I’m not sure.”

“I can tell you right now what you would have done. Whatever it took, ’cause that’s the only option women have. I found that married or not, that’s just how it is.”

The logic played right into the reality of a woman’s plight Petunia wanted to change.

“If it were up to me, I might consider giving you a try, but my first responsibility has got to be toward these children and to making sure they have a roof over their heads.”

“Rumor is the only child you have right now is Terrance Winter.”

“Yes, he is staying here.” Hearing his name, Terrance appeared in the doorway holding Lancelot.

“Well, this here is my son, Phillip, and my daughter, Brenda. They’re good kids. I keep up with their schooling in the mornings before I go to bed. They know their manners.”

Their manners were evident from the way they sat, quietly and respectful.

“We don’t have much right now, but we know right from wrong.”

Petunia sighed. Hester wasn’t going to make this easy. “If you know right from wrong, then you know how small this community is.”

Hester nodded and more starch drifted free. Caught in the late-day sun that drifted in the room. “Not to mention small-minded.”

How could she argue with that? “Terrance, would you please take Brenda and Phillip into the kitchen and give them some cookies and milk?”

Terrance nodded. Brenda went eagerly, fascinated by Lancelot. Phillip went with a bit more drag in his step.

“Make them welcome, Terrance,” she added.

Terrance nodded. Hester jerked her chin at Phillip when he paused in the doorway. “Go on now.”

As soon as they were in the kitchen, Hester rubbed her hands together. It was the first sign of nervousness Petunia had seen her display. “I appreciate you having the rest of this talk in private. Living as we do, there’s no way they can’t know how things are.”

It was Petunia’s turn to sigh. “I wish I could help you. I truly do.”

Hester set her hands on her hips. Her breasts bounced, and for a moment Petunia worried they’d spill free.

“If you’re worried about certain people, prominent people, in this community squawking, I guarantee you they won’t.”

Interesting. “What makes you think they won’t?”

“Because I’ll make sure of it.”

That was a useful talent to have. “You can do that?”

“I have one or two pieces of leverage.”

The look she gave the door was significant, and that sense of familiarity about the children nagged at Petunia again. “Why do your children look familiar?”

Hester didn’t even hesitate. “You’ve probably met their father.”

“Who’s their father?”

“Dougall MacFarlane.”

Petunia couldn’t suppress a gasp. “The mayor?”

“Yeah, the town’s big man. As you can imagine, we were quite the embarrassment showing up here. He’d prefer you’d run us out of Simple on a rail rather than give me this job.”

“So why don’t you go?”

“Well, when I had the money, I kept thinking he’d come around. You know, at least take care of his kids but that new wife of his, she didn’t want any part of it. Then I ran out of money, and he told me since I didn’t go when he gave me the money the first time, he wouldn’t help again, and he’d make life difficult for me.” She made to smooth her hair and then obviously remembered its starched state. Her hand dropped to her side. “He’s keeping his word,” she added ruefully.

“Why didn’t you go?”

Hester shrugged in that way of hers. “Nothing to go back to. My parents are dead. His parents don’t live in that town, and where we come from it’s so small there’s no jobs to be had, no money to be had. But I thought if we were here. Well...” She shrugged and shook her head. “Well, I thought he’d take care of his kids at least.”

“And you can’t make him?”

“There are no laws saying he has to.”

“So he just pretends you don’t exist?”

She nodded. “Apparently, his plan when he came out West was to get rich and get rid of the past, all of it.”

“And he can’t.”

“No, but he won’t take this job from me. I’ll make sure of that. I don’t have much,” she said, “but this new wife being pregnant and him looking to be cozying up to the governor for that seat he wants to have up there in the capitol give me advantage. He can’t afford right now the noise I could make revealing who I am.”

“So why don’t you make enough noise so he gives you the money?”

“Two reasons. One, he might have me killed. He’s that ambitious, and two, my kids deserve to know what it feels like to be respectable. I don’t want him, but I want respectable back. This job is the new start I’ve been looking for.”

The woman had thought of everything. Petunia couldn’t help but admire that practicality mixed with determination and purpose.

She came to a decision. “If you can get MacFarlane to support you, then I’ll give you a try.”

Because the reality was, she didn’t have much of a choice, either.

Hester’s smile thinned. “He’ll give it.”

Petunia was beginning to believe it. There was something about Hester that just made you believe whatever she said would happen, would. And with the kind of leverage—all right, blackmail—Hester could bring to bear, Petunia might be able to get a bit more support for her cause.