Her Independent Spirit Read online

  Ever since her dying father had set up his affairs so that Beth had been pushed into marriage with Jim Dodd to whom he sold the family’s farm rather than let his two daughters inherit it, Beth had been determined to prove her father wrong. Women could take care of business affairs as well as men. They didn’t need to depend on men to take over and tell them what to do.

  Feeling a surge of satisfaction, Beth thought back on how she had been managing her own affairs for the past year-and-a-half, ever since she left the southern Ohio home of her late husband’s shrew of an aunt, Agnes Dodd, who still had custody of her little sister. Beth had made her way out to the gold and silver fields of eastern California by herself, searched through numerous saloons and brothels for her late husband only to end up here in Lundy where she learned she had been widowed a week before her arrival. She had latched onto the cooking job Gus had offered her, started her own baking business on the side, and she continued to save as much money as possible while she waited to settle Jim Dodd’s estate. With her plan to buy her own home—preferably a small farm—and rescue her sister, Beth already had several formidable tasks before her for the year 1884, tasks she intended to take care of by herself.

  This situation with Louisa was no different. Beth had been the one who made the commitment to the new mother. As much as she would love to visit with her fiancé, Val Caldwell, and feel the warmth and comfort of his strong arms wrapped around her to reassure her, she would see it through—by herself—without turning it over to a man to handle.

  Beth needed to convince Mary Ford to let Louisa and her baby share a room with her at the Pioneer Lodging House. She’d wait until the morning to talk to her landlady. Although the woman would be busy making breakfast for those who paid for board as well as room, Beth hoped Mrs. Ford would be in a happier mood after a good night’s sleep rather than in the evening after a full day of work. Mrs. Ford had proven herself to be strict, but not unreasonable.

  First, she must convince Gus to let the young woman work for him. Even though Beth had made the commitment to Louisa weeks earlier, she had said nothing to Gus, preferring to wait and see if the new mother would show enough backbone to defy the Blue Feather madam and walk away. She could no longer put off talking to her boss.

  Beth knew since most of the mines in Lundy were in full swing, there were enough hungry miners clamoring for food each evening to keep the eatery busy. During the previous week, it had been all she and Gus could do to fill all the orders without making the tired and hungry men wait an excessive amount of time for their food. Beth had also found it difficult to keep up with the demand for her turnover pies—both fruit and meat—that many of the men liked to buy for either breakfast or to take into the mines for their lunch. Still, would Gus be willing to give a former prostitute with a baby tied to her back a chance?

  As if the small kitchen would not be crowded enough, Gus had the far end curtained off as a bedroom using a blanket hanging from a rope. He was not a neat man or overly concerned with cleanliness. Beth figured that out on her first day in Lundy. Val had asked Gus if she could leave her valise in his kitchen while she searched for Jim Dodd. Before she would leave it on the floor, she first swept away dirt and rodent droppings. Even though Beth made it a point to keep the kitchen cleaner, it was not the best situation in which to bring an infant.

  Beth inhaled deeply and stiffened her resolve. For the sake of Louisa and the baby, she would make it work.

  Gus interrupted Beth’s thoughts when he barreled into the kitchen, a package of raw meat in his hands. He rushed to the counter where he kept his chopping block and set down his purchase. Beth watched as Gus trotted behind the curtain to his sleeping area long enough to retrieve his meat cleaver. As she watched him chop the meat into steaks, she realized that was another thing she and Louisa would need to keep an eye on. Once Sophie Ann grew old enough to scoot around the kitchen, they must be sure sharp utensils like the meat cleaver were kept safely out of her reach at all times.

  “In town vagon and mules come. Maybe Herr Caldwell, ya?”

  “Reckon so. Val said he figured on bringing up feed and hay for Hector’s Stagecoach Livery this week.”

  With the anticipation of seeing Val starting to build within her, Beth watched as Gus caught sight of something through the doorway that separated the chop shop kitchen from the main room housing the saloon. She leaned forward enough to see Leonard Haas, one of the two Germans who owned The Arcade, stood at the bar immediately outside the door next to another man Beth didn’t recognize. She figured the other owner, Friedrich Gluntz, better known as Fritz, wouldn’t show up until sometime before the dinner hour. Beth resumed her kneading while Gus took their order.

  Gus hummed under his breath as he returned and forked two of the steaks and threw them into a skillet which he then put over the hottest part of the stove. As the meat started to sizzle, Gus grabbed two cold potatoes that had been boiled the day before. He began to slice them into another pan along with a lump of lard.

  “Enough biscuits for two orders ve have, ya?”

  “Yes, Gus, up in the warmer. I’ll stir us up a new batch soon as I get this here bread to risin’.”

  “Sehr gut.” Very good.

  Gus grabbed two clean enamel plates and a couple of forks to take to his customers. Tired of the miners walking off with his dishware, Gus had established a policy long before Beth started working for him that the miners had to bring their own mess kits. But, for the saloon owner and his companion, Gus would provide dishes and a fork. It was assumed every man had his own knife.

  Just as Gus returned to the kitchen, Beth heard the clomp of the crutch belonging to Josh Connor, tall and lanky with his usual swatch of reddish brown hair hanging on the forehead of his sixteen-year-old freckled face, as he stepped through the back door.

  “You want I should get you more water or firewood, Mrs. Dodd?” Josh cheerfully asked in his slow manner of speaking. The mining accident that had killed his father had left him with a broken hip that didn’t heal properly, thus necessitating the crutch, and had also injured his brain. He now thought and spoke more slowly than he did before the accident.

  “Reckon I’ll need more wood afore I bake these rounds, Josh, but not now. How are them chickens doin’ this mornin’?”

  “Your chickens are doing just fine, Mrs. Dodd. It looks like they’re starting to feather out some.”

  Beth nodded in approval. Val had brought her six hatching eggs on Valentine’s Day. In spite of the exceptionally cold winter with deeper than usual snow, all six baby chicks had survived under Josh’s vigilant care. Much to Beth’s delight, only one chick had turned out to be a cockerel. If she had ended up with more than one rooster as they matured, one rooster would have ended up in the pot rather than her tolerating cock fights among her chickens.

  Beth turned her attention back to Gus. As he threw another steak in the pan and continued to hum, Beth decided he was in the best mood she could hope for. Josh remained standing next to the wall by the back door, but hopefully he would not say anything to interfere. Beth set her bowl of bread dough aside to rise and started a batch of biscuit dough in a smaller bowl. She took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

  “Gus, reckon we best talk.”

  “No talk. Busy. For Gus now you vork.”

  Beth chose to ignore her boss. If she was going to get through what she had to say without losing her nerve, she needed to keep going. Even if Gus refused to hire Louisa, in order for Beth to provide work for the woman helping her with her baking business, she had to convince Gus to allow Louisa and little Sophie Ann in the kitchen.

  “Gus, you ever gone to church? Maybe in Bavaria, before you come to America?”

  Gus dropped his turning fork on the edge of the fry pan. With a look of confusion, he turned to face Beth.

  “Ya. Catholic. No more. Gus come to America, no time to Kirche go.”

  With his good-natured smile, Josh spoke up. “I used to go to church, Mrs. Dodd. But, t
here aren’t any churches in Lundy, so I don’t go no more.”

  “That’s right smart, Josh. But, I need to ask Gus something important now. Gus, when you was goin’ to church, you recollect hearin’ the story about when a passel of men done got all uppity and brung a woman to Jesus askin’ if she was to be stoned to death ’cause she done committed adultery? But, Jesus plumb told them that any that ain’t done no sin was to cast the first stone. You recall that story?”

  Completely bewildered, Gus rolled his eyes.

  “Ya, Gus the story knows. Warum? ” Why?

  “Just in case you done forgot parts, reckon I’ll tell it again. Jesus started writin’ in the dirt each time one of them men picked up a rock. Instead of throwin’ them stones at the woman, they saw what Jesus done wrote. Then they dropped them stones and left.”

  Always figured some of them men knowed she done adultery ’cause they was the ones done it with her.

  Gus slammed his fork several times against the pan.

  “No Bible stories! Biscuits, Frau Dodd!”

  Beth worked the ball of dough fast and hard.

  Josh, his mouth hanging open, shuffled closer towards the door, ready to make his escape, if necessary. All the while, he followed the two with his eyes.

  Ignoring Gus, Beth raised her voice and kept talking as she scattered flour on the table in order to roll out her dough. “When they was all gone, Jesus done asked her where was them that accused her. She said nary a man was there to condemn her none. Then Jesus said he ain’t condemnin’ her neither, and to go and sin no more. You recollect that, Gus? You figure that’s the way it best be? Or, you figure you’d still condemn her?”

  Gus raised his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head as he forked a steak and flipped it. Over the sizzle, he barked, “No more Kirche stories, Frau Dodd. Gus no condemn. Now, busy ve are. For Gus you cook, ya?”

  “That’s a real nice story, Mrs. Dodd,” said Josh with a grin. “Not sure if I understand it, though.”

  Beth gave Josh a quick smile, but focused on Gus.

  “You sure you ain’t fixin’ to condemn her? What if one of them women from one of them brothels yonder was to show up here lookin’ for work, Gus? What if she ain’t goin’ to go sinnin’ no more? You reckon you’d still condemn her?”

  Gus threw his hands in the air and rattled off a string of German too fast for Beth to follow. He turned to her and yelled. “The Arcade no brothel is. No upstairs girls!”

  “So you’d up and condemn her? Reckon a passel of them men out there you dish vittles to go whoremongerin’ at them brothels most every week and I can’t recall you condemnin’ them none. But if a woman who don’t want to do no more whorin’ was to come here, you’d get all uppity and condemn her?”

  “Nein! Ich nicht condemn!” No! I don’t condemn! “Vork, herrisch Witwe!” Bossy widow. “No more stories. Make biscuits!”

  Beth motioned Gus aside so she could slide a sheet of biscuits into the oven.

  “That’s mighty fine, Gus, ’cause I done found us another cook. What with all these here miners comin’ into Lundy, we’re slap-full busy. Friday I’ll start her learnin’ how things is done. She’ll be right smart help in the kitchen.”

  Gus, his stubborn jaw jutting out, squinted his eyes with suspicion.

  “Who? Vat voman?”

  “That woman whose baby I done helped birth? She’s aimin’ to keep it. She’s leavin’ the Blue Feather. I done told her to come here for a job.”

  “Nien! No upstairs girl for Gus vork. No baby in kitchen!”

  Her arms akimbo, Beth turned to face Gus.

  “Gus, it don’t do no good to say you ain’t goin’ to condemn her none if you ain’t willin’ to help her do honest work. She ain’t goin’ to be no upstairs girl no more. She’s comin’ here to be a cook, like me.”

  “Nein! First Josh, now upstairs girl here you bring? No room in kitchen.”

  “I’ll stay outside most of the time so I don’t get in your way,” Josh offered. “I won’t come in unless you call me.”

  “She ain’t goin’ to be here all that long…just ’til the minin’ season’s over. What with people around here knowin’ about her, she can’t stay in Lundy and have no decent life for her baby. I aim to take her with me when I go for my little sister. Afore then, she needs to learn honest work so she can get a job back east.”

  Gus turned from his stove and stood directly next to Beth.

  “Nein, herrisch Witwe!” No, bossy widow.

  Beth turned to face him. Eye to eye with Gus, she refused to back down. She had pushed him into accepting her plans before, but none were as important as this one. The future of both Sophie Ann and her mother were at stake.

  “Gus, I promise. You ain’t goin’ to be discomfited none if you let her work here a spell. I aim to teach her what I know. We’ll take care of the baby so it don’t get in the way none. You pay her what’s fair for her cookin’. If she don’t work out, I’ll figure somethin’ else out for her.”

  Lips tight, Gus’s face twisted into a grimace as he heaved deep breaths. With a grunt of disgust, Gus turned back to the stove, wrapped a rag around his frying pan handle before he picked it up in his right hand, and hurried out the door toward the tables set aside for eating. In the process, he nearly knocked over a man entering the kitchen.

  Beth immediately recognized the person Gus bumped into in his hurry to get out of the kitchen. She cringed as she watched the man she loved throw up his hands in a gesture of surrender and press his spine against the doorjamb so Gus could pass. She experienced another surge of appreciation for the good nature her future husband possessed. If it had been one of the cantankerous miners that frequented The Arcade, chances were Gus would have found himself on the other end of a tongue-lashing or swinging fists. Instead, nonplussed and with a shake of his head, Val Caldwell sauntered into the kitchen. His face lit with a smile once he caught sight of Beth.

  “What’s gotten into Gus?”

  Eager to share the latest news, Josh broke out in a big grin. “Beth got a new cook for Gus. She has a baby.”

  Val lifted an eyebrow and turned toward Beth for an explanation.

  “Reckon we’ll talk on it later,” she mumbled. Then louder, “You’re here a mite earlier in the day than usual. Ain’t complainin’, mind you.”

  “We stopped an extra night coming up this time. Between the weight of the load and the mud putting a drag on the wheels, the mules struggled more than usual. They needed the rest.”

  Beth nodded her head in acknowledgement before she replied. “I’d like to get away directly. But, like I done told Gus, we’re plumb busy these days. Got beans to cook and figure I need to mix up another batch of bread. While that’s risin’ I need to go up to the Pioneer Cash Store to see if they got fresh fruit for some turnover pies. On the way back, I best stop by the butcher shop to check with Judge McLean for some meat for turnovers. Plus, reckon I’ll ask if he’s finished up figurin’ Jim Dodd’s estate. If you ain’t busy, you can walk with me then.”

  “Sometimes it’s handy having one of the local butchers also being the elected justice of the peace,” Val teased.

  Gus returned to the kitchen, a frown still etched on his face. He nodded a greeting to Val and shot Beth a glare of disapproval before he turned back to the stove.

  Val, realizing whatever had taken place between his intended and Gus remained a sore subject, decided it was time to leave. “Of course, sweetheart. That will give me enough time to visit the bath house and the barber.”

  Beth critically eyed the face of her handsome future husband with his olive complexion surrounded by dark hair and a beard. In a voice a little sharper than she intended, she asked, “You aimin’ to shave off your beard for summer just because your brother Luther done shaved off his?”

  With a twinkle in his eyes, Val broke into a teasing smile. “Do you want me to shave my beard off, Bethie Rose? It’ll make my face nice and smooth to the touch.”

  B
eth knew that Val called her Bethie Rose—Rose being her middle name—when he teased her about getting prickly over an issue. But, aware that her annoyed employer she still needed to calm down stood mere feet away from her, she refused to rise to his bait. She merely looked down at her mixing bowl and shook her head while she fought the blush she could feel starting to creep up her neck. “Ain’t no call to go shavin’ your beard on my account. I like it right fine.”

  “That’s good,” Val chuckled, “because I only intended to trim it up and cut the rest of my hair so it stays out of my eyes. I’ll see you later, Beth.”

  Beth longed to kiss Val, but with Gus like a teapot ready to spout steam, she decided against it. As Val turned to exit by way of the saloon, Beth grabbed a rag and stepped toward the stove to check on her biscuits. “Josh, I’d be beholden if you’d fetch me more firewood and a bucket of water.”

  CHAPTER 3

  As she slid her hand in the crook of Val’s arm, Beth sighed with contentment. She turned to study the neatly trimmed beard that hugged Val’s strong chin. His eyes dancing, he turned to face her and returned her smile.

  “All right, Beth. Tell me what happened between you and Gus that has him stirred up like a hornet’s nest.”

  Val faced forward to avoid looking at her while Beth told him how Louisa approached her and asked for help. He recalled how weeks earlier Beth had told him she offered to assist the new mother so she could keep her baby. But, at that time, Beth had been doubtful that the woman would have enough courage and determination to make the break from the Blue Feather.

  Val shook his head and did his best to keep a straight face when she got to the part about how she told Gus he had a new cook coming. There was no doubt in his mind that the man still sputtered under his breath about Beth’s Bible story and declaration that it was his duty to help reform an upstairs girl. Women in the home may keep children by their sides when working in their own kitchens. But Val agreed with Gus. He couldn’t picture a baby in a kitchen attached to a busy saloon. Suspecting how Beth would react, he was smart enough to not share his opinion. Then again, if anyone could make it work, it was his Bethie Rose.