Page 11

Forbidden Page 11

by Beverly Jenkins


“About three years ago.” She went on to tell Eddy about Mary’s battle with her Order.

“I like Mary already,” Eddy said. “Standing up to bigotry is an admirable thing.”

“Yes it is. It’s my understanding that the Mother Superior was very surprised by her challenge though.”

“I’m surprised, too. I always assumed nuns to be meek little things.”

“Not the nuns that taught me back home in Baltimore.”

“You were taught by nuns?”

“Yes, at St. Francis Academy. It was founded by a woman from Haiti named Mother Elizabeth Lange. She started the Oblate Sisters of Providence, the first order of Black Catholic nuns in the country.”

“I’ve never heard of her.”

“Many people haven’t but she’s dedicated her life to serving young people enslaved, free, immigrant, and poor. The sisters at St. Francis gave me an excellent education, so I help out at the orphanage in their honor.”

As Eddy and Sylvia climbed the mansion’s steps, Eddy was surprised at the size of the place.

“It used to belong to one of the mining kings,” Sylvie explained.

The door chime was answered by a young girl Sylvie introduced to Eddy as Susannah Bird.

“Pleased to meet you, Susannah.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, Miss Cunningham. I’ll get Miss Mary.”

When Mary arrived, she ushered them into her office. The reason for the visit was to discuss the orphanage’s ongoing need for funds. Although there were only four children currently in residence, they had to be fed and clothed and the mansion had to be maintained. The women discussed selling dinners and having a charity baseball game.

After listening quietly for a few moments, Eddy asked, “Have you ever considered having a services auction?”

Mary and Sylvia turned, their faces curious. “Explain that, please,” Mary asked.

“Let’s say Miss Vera asks for bids on having a gown made. Zeke Reynolds might offer carpentry work. Maybe Mr. Granger could put up a mess of fish, or I could offer to make a fancy meal.”

Sylvia’s face brightened. “What great idea. Edgar could offer haircuts. I could have people bid on a Sunday dinner—­which you would cook of course, Eddy.”

Eddy chuckled, “Of course.”

Mary eyed Eddy appreciatively. “Have you worked on an event like this before?”

“No, but the hotel where I worked in Denver hosted something similar. The sponsoring group was raising money for a hospital.”

Mary asked, “I think people here would enjoy this. Do you have time to be in charge?”

Eddy looked to her employer. After all, this might take time away from her job. Upon receiving an enthusiastic nod, the planning began.

Using a dolly he borrowed from the freight office, Rhine, accompanied by the twins, managed to haul the large crate up the mansion’s steps to the front door. He didn’t know what was inside, but it was extremely heavy and he hoped the contents were worth the effort. Mopping the perspiration from his brow, he waited for the door chime to be answered. Susannah appeared and backed up so he could maneuver the dolly inside. The twins followed.

“My goodness!” Mary exclaimed upon coming out of her office and seeing the huge wooden crate.

Rhine opened his mouth to respond but the words died in his throat when he saw Eddy standing there with Sylvie. Caught off guard yet pleasantly surprised, he fought to keep his tone neutral. “I didn’t know you ladies were here. Good morning.”

“Morning to you, too, Rhine,” Sylvie said.

“Hello, Mr. Fontaine,” Eddy responded.

“Miss Carmichael.”

Vowing to be on his best behavior and not make a fool of himself like he had he last time they were together, he reluctantly but smoothly moved his attention from her and over to Mary and Sylvie inspecting the mail stamps on the crate.

Mary said, “I wonder what could be inside?”

Rhine turned to the twins. “Micah, would you and Christian go look through the toolbox Mr. Zeke uses when he’s here and see if there’s a crowbar inside?”

Eager to help, they took off at a run, only to have Rhine, Mary, and Sylvie call out in unison, “Walk!”

They slowed and Rhine savored Eddy’s responding smile. Forcing himself to look away and concentrate on maneuvering the crate off the dolly, he wondered if this was her first visit. Sylvia was a staunch supporter of Mary’s efforts. Had she convinced Eddy to become involved as well? He spent a great deal of time at the orphanage. If she planned to do the same, his efforts to ignore her allure were going to be even more difficult.

“Rhine,” Sylvie said, “Eddy has come up with a fine plan for this year’s fund-­raiser.”

“What is it?” he asked after thanking the twins with a nod and taking the crowbar in hand. While Sylvie explained, he began prying the crate open.

When she finished, he was impressed with the novel idea. “I agree that it’s a fine plan, and if you need any help, Miss Carmichael, I’m at your service.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They were interrupted by the ring of the door pull. Susannah, who’d been standing with Lin and watching him work on the crate, hurried to the door. She returned with Doc Randolph.

“Oh, good, Sylvie You’re here,” the doctor said, sounding relieved. “Jed Pentwater said Amelia’s baby’s on the way and they need you.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have your bag?”

“No, Oliver. Midwives always leave their bags at home.”

His jaw tensed and his eyes flashed.

“I don’t care if you’re offended. I’m offended that you asked such a silly question after knowing me all these years.” She turned to Rhine. “Will you make sure Eddy gets back?”

“Of course.” Seeing Eddy open her mouth to undoubtedly protest the arrangements, he smiled inwardly, but Sylvie was already on her way to the door with the grumbling Doc Randolph. Eddy shot him one of her now familiar exasperated glares. He dearly wanted to tell her just how much he enjoyed being on the receiving end of those glares of hers, but he was supposed to be behaving himself so he said nothing.

The crate held lots and lots of mismatched dishes and even more pots and pans—­all packed in a mound of sawdust that spilled everywhere when Mary and Eddy began the unloading. In addition to the pots and pans and tableware, there was a lovely cut-­glass punch bowl along with matching cups and dessert plates.

“This is beautiful,” Mary said in an awed whisper. The twins were skating on the dust as if it were ice. Mary viewed them with an amused shake of her head, then checked the small timepiece pinned to her blouse. “The children and I are due at Vera’s shortly. The rest of this unpacking will have to wait until later.”

“I can finish the unpacking if you don’t mind me staying,” Eddy said to her. “I just need to know where everything goes. I’ll wash the things first before putting them away of course.”

“I’m never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so thank you for the kind offer. Rhine, are you free to stay and help her?”

“I am. If we finish before you return, I’ll lock up as well.”

The look Eddy shot him almost made him burst out laughing but he kept his features even.

“Thank you, Rhine,” Mary said. “Eddy, it’s been a pleasure meeting you and I’m looking forward to working with you on our auction. The kitchen cabinets are fairly bare so you should have no trouble finding places to put the dishes.”

“Okay. It’s been a pleasure meeting you as well. I’ll see you soon.”

Once Mary and the children were gone, silence settled over the interior. Eddy looked at Rhine. He looked at her and said, “The last time we were together I put you in an uncomfortable position by asking you to have dinner with me. I’d like to ap
ologize and hope you’ll forgive me.”

Eddy had to admit she hadn’t been happy with the inappropriate invitation, even if a part of her wished she’d been the type of woman who would’ve said yes. “Thank you for that.” There was a sincerity in him that spoke to her. “Let’s agree to forget about it and go forward.”

“Thank you. I felt like an ass afterwards.”

“Good.”

He laughed, and then a seriousness came over him that seemed so intense she wondered what he would say next. “And if I had no fiancée? Or is that too inappropriate as well?”

“No. I’ve asked myself the same question.”

“You have?”

“Yes. Rhine we both know something’s in the air between us, so we may as well be adults about it, but there are other barriers as well. Barriers some have lost their lives trying to get around.”

“I know.”

She chose her words carefully. “I value myself too highly to be any man’s mistress, so marriage would have to be a given, and we would have to love each other so deeply that the barriers wouldn’t matter, but your engagement makes this conversation moot so let’s get to work on this crate, okay?”

He studied her for a few long moments and then nodded in agreement.

By noon they were done with the washing and the putting away of the donated items. The sawdust had been swept up and the now-­empty crate taken outside. As promised, he drove her back to the boardinghouse, and when they reached it, she said, “Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure.”

Even though they hadn’t revisited their conversation, Eddy could feel it hanging between them like something alive. “Do you visit the orphanage often?”

“Usually two or three days a week. I have a soft spot for Mary and the twins.”

“The twins look to be a handful.”

“That they are. Sounds like you may be there quite a bit, too, what with the auction and all.”

“I probably will. I’m looking forward to it though. You should think about what you might want to put up for bid.”

“I’ll do that.”

She opened the door and he made move to come around and help her down, but she shook her head. “I appreciate the gesture but I can get down by myself.”

He sighed and looked off into the distance. When he turned back to her, he said, “My being a gentleman around you isn’t moot, Eddy.”

“I appreciate that and I meant no offense. I’m just not accustomed to being fussed over.”

“Understood.” He paused for a moment and then said, “Thanks for your honesty back there—­about us.”

“You’re welcome. It needed to be said, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

Eddy was sure her attraction to him wouldn’t evaporate overnight but hoped their talk would help spur the process along. She ignored the parts of herself that clung to tiny shoots of hope. “If Sylvie gets back in time, we’re supposed to be going to the big baseball game. Are you playing?”

“I am, but I wouldn’t call it playing. What my team does best is called losing.”

She laughed. “Maybe you’ll get lucky this time around.”

“Only if the other side doesn’t show up.”

She stepped down to the walk and closed the carriage door. “I’ll see you there.”

“Good-­bye, Eddy.”

“ ’Bye, Rhine.”

He drove away and a thoughtful Eddy went inside. She had no regrets about anything she’d said and felt better after having shed light on something they really needed to come to terms with.

Sylvie returned by early afternoon and Eddy was glad to see her.

“How’d the birth go? Everything okay?”

“Yes. This was the Pentwater’s fourth child and the baby had already made its debut by the time I arrived. Mother and child are doing fine.”

“Good.”

“Everything turn out okay at the orphanage?”

“Yes, and Mr. Fontaine brought me back here. Do you still want to go to the baseball game?”

“Of course. Would you make us some sandwiches to take along?”

“I’d love to.”

Later that evening, Sylvie and Eddy loaded their provisions in the wagon bed and set out for the game. Eddy was looking forward to the outing, and to seeing Zeke Williams again now that she’d settled things with Rhine. “Where is the game held?”

“In a field out by the cemetery.”

“Is it usually well attended?”

“Oh, yes, the entire town comes out. It’s quite an event. Of course our side always wins but it’s still a lot of fun.”

Sylvie was right about the number of people. The field where they parked was filled with buggies and carriages and wagons. There were people of all races and ages, walking and carrying quilts and baskets. Well-­dressed White women wearing straw hats were escorted by men in suits and bowlers. Little children ran here and there, as did a few dogs. She spied Colored couples making their way, and like their White counterparts, the men were in suits and the women wore straw boaters, too. Eddy, who had no hat, hoped her plain blouse and skirt didn’t make her appear too shabby, but she had no money for special clothes. She was still bent on California. Every extra penny went into her savings.

Sylvie carried the basket while Eddy grabbed the quilts, and they set out for the field. It was a short walk and once they arrived they went to their side. The White Republicans and their supporters were on the other. Sylvie seemed to know everyone and their progress was halted more than once by greetings and Sylvie introducing Eddy to people she wanted her to meet. The Black Republicans were on the field warming up. Jim Dade was at home plate hitting the ball into the outfield while his fellows scurried to catch it or chase it down. She was glad to see him. She spotted Zeke speaking with Sylvie’s beanpole boarder, his cousin August, and Doc Randolph along the sideline. Seeing her, Zeke waved. Smiling and pleased by the recognition, she waved back. Eddy couldn’t remember the last time she’d attended such an event. The air was full of excitement and she looked forward to the fun. Over on the other side, she spotted Rhine talking with a group of people. Beside him stood an extremely beautiful dark-­haired, young woman. As if sensing Eddy, he turned and met her eyes across the divide. He sent her an almost imperceptible nod before going back to his friends.

“That’s Rhine’s fiancée he’s standing with,” Sylvie pointed out.

“She’s very pretty.”

“Only on the outside.”

Surprised by that, Eddy turned her way and Sylvie added, “Natalie Greer is as spoiled as a pan of milk set out in the sun. I still can’t believe she’s his choice for a wife.”

Eddy glanced over again, taking in the woman’s fashionable attire. At least she now knew what the fiancée looked like. She found it hard to fathom Rhine being with someone like that, but then maybe he saw something in his fiancée others did not. As Zeke, Jim, and the Black Republicans took the field, she put all thoughts of Rhine and his fiancée aside and joined the applause.

The White Republicans were trounced. Their team, made up of businessmen and bankers, were less fit than the carpenters, bricklayers, and day laborers fielded by their opponents. As the winners celebrated the ten-­to-­nothing victory and shook hands with the losers, a grinning Doc Randolph raised a bronze bust of President Lincoln high overhead while his side of the field cheered loud enough to be heard back in Denver. “Why’s he holding up that bust?” Eddy asked.

“That’s the trophy,” the applauding Sylvie explained. “The winning team gets to display it until next year’s game. Doc says he’s going to have Zeke build a permanent display for it in his home because the bust will never reside anywhere else.”

As the gathering ending and people began heading home, something made Eddy glance up, and there stood Rhine among a gr
oup of people. It was her turn to offer the slight nod. He returned the greeting and Eddy hurried off to catch up with Sylvie.

Chapter Nine

Over the next two weeks, Eddy settled into a routine. She got up at four o’clock every morning to prepare breakfast for her two favorite boarders, Gabe Horne and August Williams, and at eight silently served what was left to the oh so important Whitman Brown. True to their promises, the dining room patrons began spreading the word about her great cooking, and more and more people began showing up on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. She was delighted with the positive response and how nice everyone was to her. Zeke was eating there on a regular basis as well, but he respectfully maintained his distance, as if he didn’t want to disturb her while she was working, and as if he was trying to gather his courage to approach her about seeing her outside of the dining room. The orphanage fund-­raiser plans were moving forward, they’d set the date for next month and the auction would be held at the mansion. She’d bumped into Rhine a few times at the orphanage and although they both recognized that what lay between them had not dissipated, they chose not to acknowledge it or speak about it and that suited Eddy just fine.

“A couple of the men have asked if you have a sweetheart,” Sylvia said one evening. Vera was in the kitchen as well. The seamstress often ate her evening meal with Sylvia and Eddy.

Eddy, washing dishes, found that amusing. “I hope you told them no, and that I’m not going to be around Virginia City long enough to encourage one.”

“Now, now. Don’t be too hasty. Zeke’s becoming a regular. You never know.”

Vera said, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, but we must get you better clothing, my dear. You’ve been wearing that same skirt since you arrived.”

Not enjoying having her poverty pointed out, her chin rose. “It’s the only one I have.”

“Then we need to fix that.”

“I don’t have money to waste on frills.”

“Who said anything about you paying, and having more than one skirt isn’t considered frivolous. You’re representing Sylvie in that dining room and you need you to be better dressed.”