Chapter 15 #2
"Yes, but with such a lack of subtlety." They laughed and then ate in companionable silence.
The sun hung orange-red at the crest of the mountains, almost as if it was riding them.
Loralee knew that in just a few minutes it would dismount, dropping behind the peaks, leaving behind pale streamers of pink and orange.
And even those would soon slip away almost as if they were tethered to the sun itself. Sunset came fast in the mountains.
"Why'd you become a…" Patrick stopped, his face burning red again.
"Whore?" She filled in the word for him, unashamed of her choices.
"I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked you that. It's just that sometimes you seem so innocent, I forget that you, that you… Aw, hell."
She reached up and patted his knee. "It's all right. It's an honest question." She sighed. "I ran away from home when I was thirteen. My daddy drank. And when he was through sleeping with Mama, he started turning on us."
"Us?"
"Me and my sister, Faye." She set her plate and fork down on the step and leaned back, looking out at the mountains, remembering. "I woke up one morning, stiff and bruised, and figured I'd had about enough. So I packed up my stuff and left."
"What about your sister?"
"I tried to get her to come, but she was afraid. In the end, I just left her there."
"Where'd you go?"
"Here and there to begin with. I took odd jobs.
Washing, cleaning, sweeping up, whatever I could find.
I worked mostly for a place to lay my head and a bite to eat.
I wound up in St. Louis, cooking for the girls at a fancy bordello.
" Patrick sat down beside her on the step, his presence comforting somehow.
"I worked there for almost five months. The money was good and my bed was clean.
Then one night a drunken customer mistook me for one of the girls.
I fought like a hellcat at first, then finally decided it wasn't like I had anything to lose. "
She laughed and was surprised at how bitter it sounded.
"The next morning, he was gone and I had twenty-five dollars.
Well, it didn't take too much ciphering to figure out that was more than I made in a week of cooking.
And all I had to do was what my pa had already forced me to do.
" She shrugged philosophically. "Only problem was I wasn't one of the girls.
Word got out and I found myself out of a job right quick.
So I nosed around and tried to find a place in another parlor house. "
"In St. Louis?"
"Yes, at first. Only see there's rules to everything, even whoring, and none of the fancy houses wanted a scrawny kid like me. About the only place I was accepted was on the streets and that was too risky. So I headed west on the first stage out of town.
"Followed the miners mostly. Started out in Del Norte in a dance hall.
That's when I changed my name. Saw it on a flyer.
Thought it sounded real pretty. Anyway, before long I was making my way.
Never had the looks for the fancy places, but I did all right for myself.
Finally wound up in Leadville." She stopped memories crowding in faster than she could put them into words.
She reached for her locket, comforted by the cool touch of silver.
"Who gave you the locket, Loralee?"
She brought herself back, focusing on Patrick. He had such a strong, handsome face. She could see bits of Duncan in him. She chewed the side of her lip, trying to decide how much to share with him, and finally let the soft light in his eyes decide her. He was a good man.
"My husband."
Patrick couldn't have been more surprised if she'd up and told him she was really a man. She smiled and squeezed his hand, reassuringly. He tried to stop the wave of jealousy that washed through him.
"I met him in Leadville. Handsomest man you ever did see.
Tall like you, but thinner with a wiry build.
He was a charmer. But real kind to all the girls.
He moved around a lot. Always after big money, I guess.
Anyway, he always brung us presents when he got back.
He never treated us like working girls. Always had respect for us.
" She stopped and looked up into Patrick's eyes.
"Like you." Her whispered words reduced his gut to jelly.
She turned away again, fixing her gaze on the shadows in the barnyard. "He always seemed to wind up with me and we started spending more and more time together. He even took me out in a rented buggy once."
The happiness that the memory brought was reflected in her face and it made Patrick want to buy her a fleet of buggies.
She leaned back and sighed. "We spent a whole summer like that.
I'd never been with anyone like him before.
He made me feel special, like I was the only woman in the world.
I quit seeing other men. Didn't seem right. Then I found out I was pregnant."
Patrick felt her confusion and pain as if it was happening right there on the porch. He smoothed the soft curls hanging over her shoulder, his hand aching to touch more than just her hair. But she had a husband, he reminded himself fiercely and dropped his hand to his side.
"At first I wasn't sure I should tell him. I mean, I was a whore. And well, I knew it was his baby, but there wasn't a dad-gummed thing I could do to prove it. But finally, I decided I had to." She tipped up her head to look at him. "It was the right thing to do."
He nodded, too full of conflicting emotions to string together any words.
"Well, he was so proud you'd have thought he was the only man to ever make a baby. Started talking about how we had to get married and give our child a home. A home. Can you imagine me with a real home? After all the things I'd done?" She managed to sound outraged and wistful all at the same time.
He whispered 'yes,' but didn't think she heard him.
"At first I said no. I mean I couldn't very well go and marry him.
It would have spoiled his reputation. But he just laughed and said he hadn't any reputation to spoil.
And he told me he loved me more than he'd ever loved any living thing.
Well, I couldn't resist that long. So we got married. And me with a belly already swelling.
"We took a room in town and lived like fancy folks.
But the money soon ran low and he said he'd have to go off and find us some more.
I wanted to go back to work. Women do it all the time, but he wouldn't hear of it.
I guess in his mind he'd made me respectable and he didn't want me to go and mess it up.
"The night before he left, he gave me this locket.
Said it was a reminder that we belonged together.
And that he'd be back to get me just as soon as he could.
" She ran her hand along the filigreed chain.
"He fastened it around my neck and kissed me.
" She ran a finger across her lips, so lost in memory that Patrick doubted she'd even realized she'd done it.
"I remember his exact words. 'Loralee darlin',' he said, 'this locket is forever.
It's a symbol of my promise to you. No matter what happens, it will keep you safe.
Always.' And then he kissed me again. And then he was gone.
" She exhaled a breath, her eyes still fixed on the deepening shadows of the yard.
"Three months later Mary was born. The girls helped me, gave me a place to stay.
And we waited, Mary and I. He wrote every week.
Always promising that we'd be together, that we'd be a family.
His last letter said he'd struck it rich and that he'd wire us the money to meet him.
I waited and waited. I never heard from him again. "
"What happened?"
"I never knew. But I know in my heart that he's dead." She said it with finality.
"Oh God, Loralee, I'm sorry."
She patted his shoulder, as if he were the one who needed comforting. "It's all right. It was a while ago. I've had time to make my peace with it."
"What happened to Mary?"
Her face tightened. "We tried to make it on our own for a while, but no one wants a woman with a child. So I moved on." She opened her mouth to continue and then closed it as if deciding to skip over part of the story. Patrick wondered what she wasn't telling him.
"I wound up here and found a place in the cribs and went back to whoring, but the cribs weren't any place for a little girl. Mary was two and I didn't want her to have the same kind of life I did. So I swallowed my pride and wrote to my sister."
"Faye?"
"Yup. She'd done real well for herself. Married a preacher man. I figured it was the best possible kind of home for Mary. So I sent her to Virginia."
"Have you seen her?"
"No. Folks write for me sometimes, but I don't want her to be ashamed of her mama. So I've tried to let her go. I know my sister is telling folks Mary's hers. She can't have children of her own."
A tear slipped down the crevice between her nose and cheek. Patrick reached out to wipe it away. "Loralee, anyone would be proud to have you for a mother."
She gave him a watery smile. "Well, I made my try for a better life, but I guess I just wasn't meant to be anything but a whore.
And I can't say that my life has been all that bad.
I mean I had a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter.
Most folks never even have that much. Maybe I was just being greedy to want more. " She ducked her head.
Patrick tipped her head up with a finger, his eyes searching hers. "You're being no such thing. Everybody has a right to find their own way, Loralee, no matter what happens to them. And I can't believe your husband would want you to quit living just because he's gone."
He wasn't certain if he was saying the words for her or for himself. But either way, he knew they were true.
And living was just what they were going to do.