Tracie Peterson - [New Mexico Sunset 03] (6 page)

Chapter 9

G
avin left Angeline at the door to her hotel room and went downstairs to make plans for going back to Bandelero. He figured he had more than enough money to get them home, but he had no idea of how he was going to convince Angel to go, short of hog-tying her and throwing her over his shoulder. Laughing to himself, Gavin thought even that plan had its merits.

❧

Inside her room, Angeline tiptoed to avoid disturbing Willa, but the woman had incredible hearing and quickly came to investigate.

“Angeline! Where have you been? I was worried that you’d been hurt in the unrest.”

“Unrest? Is that what you call that riot of out-of-control rock slingers?” Angeline shook her head. “I’ve never seen people like that, Willa. There was no reasoning with them at all.”

Willa’s brown hair hung in a loose braid down her back, and when she smiled at Angeline’s statement, she was almost attractive. Angeline couldn’t help but think that with just a little makeup and the right clothes, Willa could actually be beautiful.

“You’re smiling at me,” Angeline sighed in exasperation. “You were nearly killed and you’re smiling?”

“I’m smiling because this entire ordeal was mild compared to what we saw in Washington D.C. in years past. Angeline, you are young and innocent. It is hard for you to realize that things worth fighting for often come at a high price.” Willa paused and looked around the room. “Did you read those speeches I gave you? The ones given by Alice Paul and Lucy Burns?” Angeline nodded with a shudder. Willa smiled patiently. “It wasn’t a pretty picture that they painted about the treatment of suffragettes in England, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” Angeline recalled. “I found it deplorable that one human being could treat another in such a fashion.”

Willa looked thoughtful for a moment. “Those women believed in the cause of suffrage so strongly that they starved themselves in massive hunger strikes. The public was enraged, shocked, surprised, and concerned. The feelings ran from the extremes of wanting to put these women in insane asylums to the sympathetic desires of those who understood their plight.”

“But they forced them to eat,” Angeline said with disgust, then shook her head. “No, it couldn’t be called eating. They ran tubes down their throats to their stomachs. I could never have imagined such actions possible.”

“They are, and even worse things than these have been endured by our sister suffragettes.”

Angeline put her hand to her head. The entire evening had been too much for her. “I need to go to bed.”

Willa watched her carefully for a moment. “How did you escape the crowd? Did Douglas find you?”

“No, I never saw Douglas. A friend of the family, someone my parents sent to find me, did just that and rescued me as the stage was overrun.”

Willa frowned at this news, glad that Angeline had already turned to walk towards her door. “A friend? Did he sympathize with the cause?”

Angeline laughed. “No, Gavin Lucas only sympathizes with his own causes. The main one of which seems to be his desire to marry me.” Without another word to consider the situation, she left Willa.

❧

Willa stared at the closed door of Angeline’s room for several minutes before quickly going to her own room to dress. She had to get to Douglas and see what could be done to discourage this Gavin Lucas character. She couldn’t lose Angeline now. Not when there was so much at stake.

Forty-five minutes later, Douglas Baker finished counting out several dollars to each of three scruffy looking characters. Men could be bought easily in the small town and getting what he needed had been no trouble at all.

“You understand,” Douglas stated before turning to leave, “I don’t want him killed. I just want him too busy with his own problems to stick his nose in ours.” The men nodded and watched the well-dressed man disappear down the alleyway. Looking at each other and sensing that the time to earn their ill-gotten pay was at hand, the men took off in the opposite direction.

❧

“But I don’t understand,” Angeline protested, taking her seat on the train. “Why are we running away and to Denver of all places?”

“We aren’t running away, so much as tactically regrouping,” Douglas said with an air of concern. “We have to consolidate our forces, much like an army. We need to approach these small towns with proof of the benefits that can be had through acceptance of suffrage.” Douglas seemed unruffled by the entire episode, while Angeline had slept very little the night before. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion, and Douglas reached out his hand. “Come sit beside me,” he spoke softly. “You may use my shoulder for a pillow.”

Angeline was touched by his kind gesture but shook her head. “I’m afraid that would hardly be proper, Douglas.”

“But we are friends and in clear view of everyone on board. Come, Angeline.” His words lured her into obedience. “No one will think a thing of it.”

“Maybe for just a short time,” she whispered, feeling incapable of refusing.

While Angeline slept she dreamed of Gavin. It had been with a bit of sadness and relief that she had been unable to see him before leaving town with Willa and Douglas. Had her words and declaration of independence put him off so that he left without her? Perhaps he was too busy elsewhere to concern himself with Angeline’s needs. Needs? Angeline wondered even in her sleep what those needs might be. Restless from her thoughts, she turned away from Douglas’s rather soft shoulder and sought the hard, cool glass of the window beside her.

After two days on the train, Angeline was grateful to be in Denver. She loved Denver with it’s big buildings and bustling streets. She liked the automobiles and smartly dressed people who always seemed to be hurrying to someplace important.

She was immediately whisked away to one of Denver’s finer hotels and given a suite to herself, much to her surprise. Willa suggested she bathe and sleep, something that Angeline surmised Willa longed for herself.

Angeline looked the room over casually. It was very nice, in fact, it was the nicest hotel she had ever stayed in. There was a small sitting room with a door leading off to a private bath and another door leading to a bedroom. The sitting room was tastefully furnished with several velvet upholstered chairs and a round table of walnut that held a crystal vase of freshly cut flowers. The plush draperies had been pulled back to reveal a charming view of the city, with a small park across the street in which Angeline hoped to find time to walk.

“I can’t say that I haven’t been well cared for,” Angeline murmured and went to prepare her bath. In the back of her mind, however, she once again let her thoughts travel back to Gavin.

“I wonder why he didn’t come to tell me good-bye?” Then as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Angeline realized there was no way Gavin could have known of her plans. Angeline herself hadn’t known they were leaving until Willa had her dressed and on the train.

Soaking in the tub of hot water, Angeline let down her long blond hair. She eased down into the tub, sighing at the soothing comfort it offered.
With very little trouble,
she thought,
I could fall asleep here.
But, knowing the bed would be more conducive to her needs, Angeline forced herself to finish the task at hand.

❧

When the loud knock sounded on her hotel room door, Angeline forced herself to wake up. She glanced quickly around her, forgetting momentarily where she was. Another fierce knock, followed by the sound of a key being fitted in the door, caused Angeline to jerk up in the bed.

“Angeline!” It was Willa.

“In here,” she called out and forced herself to leave the comfort of the
bed.

Willa bounded in with all the energy of six women and smiled. “We’ve got a great deal of work to do. I’ve ordered supper to be sent here so get dressed and join me.”

Angeline nodded and reached for her blue serge suit. It was one of only four outfits she had, and she was rapidly beginning to tire from her limited wardrobe. With a sigh, Angeline couldn’t help but remember the closet filled with clothes at home in Bandelero.

By the time Angeline had dressed and repinned her hair, supper had arrived and with it a very pleasant aroma.

“Umm, that smells heavenly,” Angeline voiced, coming to join Willa.

“This hotel offers the finest meals,” Willa said, motioning Angeline to sit. “Of course you’ll soon find that out for yourself.”

Angeline looked down at the steaming food and realized it had been a long time since she’d eaten. Happily, she joined Willa, offered a small prayer of thanks, and sliced into the most tender veal cutlet ever created.

“Douglas and I both realize that this constant moving about is taxing to you, but you are young and can adapt easily.” Willa took a bite of food and chewed thoughtfully as though carefully considering what she was about to say. “I need for you to understand, Angeline, that often you will have no say in what happens and you may have questions. I hope that you will have the wisdom to not question me in public, but when we are alone you may of course seek me out.”

“What are we going to do next?” Angeline jumped right in.

“Well,” Willa said, “we have a great deal of planning. We have the march on Washington coming up, and we must somehow rally our sisters there to aid the cause of winning New York. They will put the suffrage issue to a vote this November and we must take that state or it will notably hinder our cause.”

“Why is that?” Angeline asked innocently.

“Because Washington can only be swayed by powerful people. It matters little what the common man wants, if the palms of those in control are being tied to the purse strings of the rich. New York is filled with persuasive people. Rich, famous people who can see the thing done,” Willa stated almost feverishly. “We must win in New York, and to do so, we must make a good showing in Washington.”

Angeline listened while Willa continued, but her heart was elsewhere and far from the cause of suffrage. Something caused her to remember the warm way Gavin’s arms had held her, and from that moment on, Angeline heard nothing that Willa said.

“You aren’t even listening to me.”

“I’m sorry, Willa. My mind and heart are heavy.”

“The young man in New Mexico?” Willa questioned without sympathy.

“Yes.” Angeline sighed and hoped Willa could relate to her feelings. She could not.

“You cannot trust this person, Angeline!” Willa was quite adamant in her statement. “Men are corrupt. Why even Douglas is only trusted so far.”

Angeline’s head snapped up. “I don’t believe you can just sum up an
entire group of people like that, Willa. Isn’t that what men are trying to do to
us?”

“It’s different.” Willa seemed to have to think on the matter for a moment. “It’s an entirely different matter.”

“How?” Angeline questioned. “Men state that women shouldn’t be allowed to vote because we are poorly educated and easily swayed. Now you’re telling me that men as a whole are corrupt and incapable of receiving our trust. How is it different?”

Willa got to her feet as if deeply hurt. “I can see this conversation will get us nowhere. You are naïve and young, Angeline, and you need to trust my wisdom on the matter. I will leave you to yourself. See if you can’t sort through your childishness.” With that Willa left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Angeline stared in surprise for several moments before going to the door and locking it. “Whatever got into her?” Angeline wondered aloud. It never crossed her mind to recognize Willa’s confusion in how to control Angeline.

“Well, what am I to do now?”

Crossing the room to look out on the darkness that had captured the city, Angeline spied a black-covered book on a small table by the window. A Bible. Angeline recognized it immediately. Almost against her will, she picked up the book and held it close. All of her life she had been taught to center herself around the teachings here. All of her life she’d been told to make her stand on this book alone.

Taking a seat, Angeline opened the Bible and flipped casually through the pages until she came to rest on 2 Timothy 3:13–15. “But evil men and
seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived. But con
tinue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them; And that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.”

The words were a powerful message to Angeline, and she read them over many times before leaning back in the chair to close the Bible. “I’ve known since I was a small child that the truth of God could be found in Scripture,” she murmured. “I know the answers must be here, but I’m so confused. I care for Gavin and I know he cares for me, but the cause is also important and Willa is right about the corruption of men and powerful people.”

With a sigh, Angeline shook her head and put the Bible aside. There didn’t seem to be a clear understanding. At least not one that came easily.

Chapter 10

T
he next week and a half passed in a flurry of activities for Angeline. She met many of Willa’s more militant suffrage supporters and found
these women to be even more intolerant of opposition than Willa was.
Angeline listened graciously as each woman recited her entry into the “cause” and tried to be sympathetic or enraged at exactly the precise moment for each, depending on the subject on which the woman spoke.

Angeline then found herself in a grown-up school of sorts. She was given printings of lectures, handwritten copies of letters, as well as lists of statistics regarding suffrage worldwide. Next, she was lectured morning, noon, and night until she no longer questioned why she was asked to respond in a certain way, she simply did it. Which, of course, was exactly as Willa Neal planned it.

After an intensive period of this oppressive training, Angeline found
herself at a reception the governor was throwing. People from assorted caus
es gathered at this party with the hopes and planned intentions of gaining the ear of the powerful. And, while suffrage had already been achieved in Colorado, there was a great deal the suffragettes hoped to obtain from their political representatives.

Angeline passed through the beautifully decorated ballroom and spoke with a number of people. Some she knew vaguely and others quite well, and to whomever she spoke, she spoke of suffrage.

“Angeline Monroe?” the voice of an elderly gentleman sounded behind
her.

Angeline whirled around, surprised that the man seemed to know her, while she hadn’t the faintest clue as to who he was.

“You don’t remember me and, in truth, had I not overheard someone speak of you a moment ago, I wouldn’t have recognized you from the scrappy ten-year-old I met long ago.”

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Angeline replied with a smile.

“Jefferson Ashton,” the man replied and extended his hand. “I’m a good friend of your father’s. He was a great ally in the fight to win statehood in 1912.”

Angeline remained confused, struggling to put his face with the newly given name. “My father has many friends, Mr. Ashton. Forgive me if I don’t remember you.”

The man chuckled. “There’s naught to forgive, my dear. You were just a child. Your father first met me when I sought him on a medical emergency. One of my entourage became quite ill from bad oysters. Your father saved his life and, in the process, he and I discussed the volatile politics of the day. Now I find you here in Colorado and at a political gathering no less. Tell me, what is it that you are about these days?”

“I’m in support of suffrage,” Angeline told the gray-haired man. She liked his kindly face and long droopy mustache. He had a glint in his eyes that bespoke of a brain that never stopped working. “I’m here with Willa Neal.”

“Ahh,” the man said as though the mere name of Willa Neal said it all. “Then you are in agreement with the more militant champions of suffrage.”

Angeline smiled thoughtfully at Mr. Ashton. “I don’t always believe they go about things in the proper manner. I’m not sure that I would go on hunger strikes and storm the president’s house with threats of forming a separate country for women.”

Ashton laughed at this. “I’ve heard of the extremists also. I say give them a country somewhere, as long as it’s not here.”

“I suppose that would get them out of your hair.” Angeline enjoyed the older man’s sense of humor.

“In truth, those women do far more to harm the cause than to help it. When Colorado first accepted suffrage many other states were interested and encouraged. Now many, many years later, we still haven’t seen nationwide suffrage come to pass, and I believe it is because of the frightening antics of the more dramatic of your sisters.”

Angeline’s lavender eyes narrowed a bit as she considered his words. “I have often wondered if having the vote merited civil disobedience. It seemed
to me that children do not often get their way with tantrums as much as with
cooperative behavior. The same seemed to be a natural assumption for
nation
al causes.”

“Right you are, my dear.” Jefferson Ashton accepted a drink from a passing waiter. “You are very wise, Miss Monroe, and, I believe, cool-headed like your father.”

Angeline smiled. “Yes, I rarely get angry. But, as my mother would say, when I do, watch out!”

“So what will you do now, Miss Monroe?”

“It is Miss Neal’s desire that I accompany them to Washington and join in the rally there. We are to speak with the president and request more support for a nationwide push for suffrage.”

“My advice to you, regarding Woodrow,” Mr. Ashton remarked, noting his close friendship with the president, “is to be clear-minded and open to suggestion. He is a fair man, but he has a great deal on his mind these days. Things that far outweigh the necessity of suffrage.”

“But suffrage is very important!” Angeline exclaimed. “Some of these women are dying for the cause.”

“And some of our young men may be called upon to die for another.” Jefferson Ashton’s words hit Angeline hard.

“The war in Europe,” she murmured.

“Yes. It isn’t likely that we can remain neutral much longer.”

“My brothers both joined the army,” Angeline said with a fretful look on her face. “I pray you are wrong.”

Mr. Ashton offered her a sympathetic look and gently touched her arm. “I pray also that I am.” He tried to be consoling while giving her the honesty that she desired. “Wars are ugly things, Miss Monroe, and I have no desire for us to enter into this particular mess without the deepest of regard.”

“We shouldn’t have to go at all,” Angeline said rather hostilely. “Neither side is right.”

Jefferson Ashton smiled.

“My dear,” he began in an almost indignant tone, “war in and of itself is never right. This issue goes beyond whether war is immoral or not, but whether one side is more right than the other. And in this case, there is evidence to clearly support the issue. Consider the
Lusitania
.”

Angeline shook her head. “It may be true that the Germans sunk the
Lusitania
and violated the lives of Americans, but how very different is that from the way the British board our ships on the high seas? Ships, I might remind you, which are from a neutral country and headed for yet another neutral country.”

“Ah, but how neutral are those countries?” Ashton questioned. “The export of food commodities to neutral countries surrounding Germany has greatly increased. Coincidence? I think not. The British confiscate our foods, label it contraband, and often haul our ships into port to avoid being attacked while sitting motionless on the ocean.”

“Exactly my point,” Angeline declared. “Where lies the difference between the British and the Germans?”

Jefferson Ashton smiled sadly. “The British injustices could be compensated to us later; for while the British seize ships, Germany is sinking them and taking the lives of innocent people with them. Do we, as responsible, God-fearing people, ignore the suffering and pain when we have it in our power to put an end to it?”

“But at what cost?” Angeline questioned. “Do I send my brothers to die for another woman’s brothers?” Angeline was near to tears.

“My dear,” he spoke softly, “it is not for us to decide. We must pray and allow God to work His course and pray for those who make the choices for us.” Angeline nodded, but she felt a heaviness in her heart that ruined the evening for her.

❧

From a distance, Douglas Baker had watched the exchange between Angeline and Jefferson Ashton. When Willa passed by on her way from one group of congressmen to another, Douglas pulled her aside.

“Do you know who that is?” he questioned, motioning to Angeline and Ashton.

“Of course,” Willa replied rather indignantly. “Everyone knows him.”

“It would seem our little Angeline knows him quite well.”

Willa watched for a moment as Angeline and Jefferson Ashton continued in deep conversation.

“Perhaps another family friend,” Willa said with a smile. “I must say that this child has proven to be more beneficial than I’d originally believed.”

“Yes,” Douglas murmured, watching with envy at the casual way Ashton touched Angeline’s arm.

Just then, Angeline pulled away from Ashton and seemed to be making her good-byes. She passed by Douglas with a hint of tears in her eyes.

“Angeline, are you all right?” Douglas questioned her, sounding far more concerned than he really needed to.

“I’m fine,” Angeline replied. “I think, however, I’m going to go upstairs to my room. I’m feeling rather tired and a bit hungry.”

“They’re serving a wonderful buffet,” Willa reminded Angeline. “Why not have something to eat here?”

“I need to get away from all of these people,” Angeline stated.

“Why not come with me to dinner? The hotel has excellent fare, which you already have learned, of course. We could go to the dining room and order something there. It would be both quiet and private,” Douglas offered.

Willa sensed his game and encouraged Angeline to accept. “Douglas is right. Go on with him and afterwards, if you are still feeling poorly, Douglas will escort you to your room.”

Angeline looked into the warm glow of Douglas’s green eyes.

She forgot for a moment about the threat of war and her brothers, but no matter how hard she tried, Angeline couldn’t forget Gavin.

“I suppose I could. . . ,” she began, but Douglas wouldn’t allow her to finish.

“Come,” he whispered in her ear.

❧

The atmosphere of the dining room was warm and inviting. Candles graced each table, giving off a romantic glow to the room, and from the upstairs alcove, chamber music floated down upon the patrons like a soft satin coverlet.

Angeline tried to enjoy Douglas’s praise for her work with the suffrage cause. She tried also to relish his admiration for her physical attributes, appreciative that he worked hard to keep from becoming too personal in his assessment of her.

Douglas spoke on, or droned on as Angeline heard it, while in her mind were images of that warm night when Gavin had rescued her from the angry crowd. She could feel Gavin’s arms around her and smell his spicy cologne. Why hadn’t he come to see her? Had he taken seriously her words of dismissal?

Unable to concentrate on Douglas, Angeline ate and tried to nod from time to time as though she were paying him the strictest attention.

“What will you do when suffrage is won?” Douglas questioned, and Angeline snapped her head up as though she’d just been accused of taking the silver.

“What?” her voice betrayed her surprise.

“What will you do when suffrage is won? Will you return home to New Mexico or will you go on to fight another cause?”

Angeline stared at Douglas for a moment and thought of Gavin’s harsh words for her causes. Yet, without giving it much thought at all, Angeline answered Douglas in a way that surprised him almost more than she surprised herself. “I suppose I’ll go home and marry.”

“Is there someone waiting for you?” Douglas asked, trying to make the question sound as though it were unimportant.

“Yes,” Angeline replied, realizing for the first time that there really was someone waiting for her and that she was glad he was. But was he? She’d told Gavin to leave her alone. She’d insisted to him that she wanted nothing to do with marriage.

Just then, Douglas spotted an old friend and excused himself to corner the powerful land baron. While Angeline watched, Douglas laughed and pounded the equally pleased man on the back. They seemed completely engrossed with each other. When Douglas took an offered seat at the man’s table, Angeline felt rather put out and summoned the waiter.

“Please tell Mr. Baker, when he returns,” she said, refraining from using the words “if he returns,” “that I have acquired a headache and have retired to my room.” The man promised to deliver the message and helped Angeline from the table.

She hated to lie. She didn’t have a headache, but in truth, Angeline knew she soon would, if she had to listen to Douglas any longer. Making her way to her room, Angeline grew deeply troubled by her thoughts of Gavin. In a sense, she was planning to marry him, and the thought shocked her. She’d known Gavin all of her life. He was probably her best friend in all the world. Could she jeopardize that with marriage?

Angeline wearily entered her hotel room, thankful for the electric lights that snapped on at her touch. She closed the door behind her and turned to lock it.

“Evening, Angel. I wondered if you’d ever make it back.”

Angeline turned around and gasped Gavin’s name before she even saw him. “What are you. . .” Her words fell into silence at the sight of Gavin’s battered face. “Oh Gavin!” she rushed to where he sat and lost her footing.

Gavin reached out and caught her, pulling her to his lap. The effort caused him much pain, which was quickly reflected in his expression.

“What happened to you!? How did you get hurt?” Angeline seemed unconcerned that she was sitting on his lap. She tenderly reached up to touch his face. “Who did this?”