Disclaimer:
Characters and situations from Lonesome Dove: The Outlaw Years belong to Hallmark Entertainment and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story or the new characters created by the author are not to be published on any ftp site, newsgroup, mailing list, fanzine or elsewhere without the express permission of the author.
Author's Notes: Hetty Biddle and all original material included in this story are the creations of Debra E. Meadows.
~~
Late April, 1881
Curtis Wells, Montana Territory
Hetty glanced up from her paperwork. There it was again. She hadn’t been imagining it -- a small grey shadow streaked across the floor and under her desk. She gulped and resisted the urge to scream and jump up on her chair. “Now, don’t get excited, Henrietta,” she told herself firmly; “You’ve certainly seen mice before.”
Slowly she got to her feet, reaching for her tin wastebasket. She was standing there, waiting for the mouse to emerge, when Mr. Mosby opened the library door.
“Close the door! Close the door! Close the door! For goodness sake, Mr. Mosby, please close the door!”
A startled Clay Mosby slammed the door shut and stood watching Hetty warily. “What do you have trapped under there, Miss Biddle, an unwilllin’ suitor?”
“Hetty put a finger to her lips. “Shhh . . .” She bent down and slowly peeked under the desk. There was nothing there. With an exasperated sigh, she banged the can back down on the floor. “He’s gone. You frightened him, Mr. Mosby. Now how am I ever going to catch him?”
Clay spread his hands in bewilderment. “Catch whom?”
“The mouse! He must have a hole here somewhere. Oh, I just know he’s going to chew up all the books! Whatever am I going to do?”
“Hmmm. A few traps ought to do the trick. I’ll ask Mr. Creel to send some over.”
“Traps? Oh, the poor little thing! I don’t want to kill him!”
“Well, what do you want to do, Miss Biddle, invite him to tea?”
“Why of course not, Mr. Mosby, what a strange notion. I want to relocate him, of course.”
“Relocate him? Miss Biddle, mice are vermin! They carry disease! Where there is one, there are sure to be dozens more. Eradication is the only way, believe me.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Mosby, there has to be another way. I don’t believe in killing. The Bible says, “Thou shalt not kill.” Why, that’s the Sixth Commandment, don’t you know.”
“Miss Biddle, I don’t believe . . .”
“And while we’re on the subject of the Bible, I have a bone to pick with you, Mr. Mosby; a town of this size ought to have at least one church congregation. But how can we have a congregation without someone to lead us? Our lovely church stands empty. We need a pastor! I wish you’d see to it, Mr. Mosby; I’m used to spending every Sunday morning in church, and here I hardly know what to do with my Sundays. What do you do with your Sundays, Mr. Mosby? I took you for a God-fearing man the first time I met you. Surely, you must miss associating with your fellow believers. Why, Curtis Wells is quite a mission field! There’s so much work to be done here. Why, do you know . . .”
“Miss Biddle, PLEASE! Could we continue this fascinatin’ discussion at another time? I have some other matters to attend to this mornin’.”
Hetty smiled. “Why, of course we can. And we’re old friends now. I’ve been here two whole weeks! Could you please call me Hetty?”
“Yes, of course,” Clay said distractedly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned to go, and then turned back to her. “In all the confusion, I forgot why I stopped by.” He pulled an envelope from his vest and handed it to her. “I happened to be at the General Store when the mail came in on the stage. I told Mrs. Creel I’d drop this by for you.”
Hetty accepted the letter eagerly and glanced at the return address. It was from her sister Anne in Hartford.
“Oh, thank you! I’ve been dying for some news from home!”
Clay opened the door. “You’re quite welcome. Good day, Hetty.”
“Good day, Mr. Mosby.”
Hetty went to the window and watched Mr. Mosby cross the street. My, he certainly was a handsome man, she thought, wondering why he wasn’t married. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that it would soon be lunchtime. She smiled. Her mother always said that no man would want to marry her because he would be afraid he couldn’t feed her! She wondered if Mr. Mosby liked a girl with a healthy appetite.
Putting her letter in her pocket, Hetty headed off to the Dove for some of Callie’s savory soup.
As Hetty approached the hotel, she saw Mayor Peale talking to a tall, dark, handsome, if somewhat disheveled, young man. That must be his son, Austin, she thought. The two of them seemed to be having some sort of argument Austin looked angry -- his father merely sad.
“If I don’t come by to see you as often as you’d like, maybe it’s because I’m busy. I have a life of my, own you know Father,” Hetty heard Austin say.
“And what kind of life would that be? Drinking and whoring every night? I’m your family, Austin -- the only family you’ve got left. We need each other. Why can’t you see that?”
Austin merely scowled back at him.
Hetty attempted to pass by without disturbing father and son, but Josiah caught sight of her and smiled. “Miss Biddle! Come and meet my son, Austin. “Miss Biddle brings a ray of sunshine wherever she goes, Austin. She’s the very one to chase your gloom away.”
Austin gave Hetty an almost imperceptible nod. “Excuse me, Father. I’m meeting someone. I’m late.” And with that, he strode off down the boardwalk.
Josiah smiled apologetically at Hetty. “Don’t mind him. He doesn’t like to be reminded of his obligations. He’s busy.”
Hetty and Josiah exchanged a few pleasantries about the weather and the condition of Curtis Wells’ streets before Josiah too excused himself, and Hetty continued into the Dove to have her lunch. She found a place in the crowded dining room and had just given her order to Dorothea when, to her surprise, Austin entered the dining room with a beautiful, dark-haired woman. They chose a recently-vacated table next to hers and sat down.
Austin leaned back in his chair with his hat balanced on his knee. “It must give you a strange feeling coming in here now, Amanda” he said to his companion. “I’m surprised you wanted to meet me here.”
“Us having lunch together won’t attract any attention. Your sneaking into my tent all the time isn’t a good idea.”
Hetty blushed. She felt sure she was not meant to overhear their conversation, but it was difficult, given the close proximity of their table to hers. She wondered about the woman and her relationship to Austin. Were they lovers? She blushed again and tried to concentrate on the bowl of soup Dorothea had just brought her.
“Still,” she heard Austin say. “I don’t like it. Someone may overhear us talking. There’s a lot of people in here.”
“And none of them are paying any attention to us. It’s perfect."
“What have you got that’s fit to eat?” Amanda asked Dorothea when she came to take their order.
“Well, I , we, uh, er have some nice soup today -- potato.”
“Fine. Bring me some of that. And hold the pepper. The last time I ate in here my mouth burned for an hour afterwards.”
“It’ll likely be your ears that are burning this time, Amanda,” Austin said as Dorothea walked away. “They’ll be talking about you in the kitchen -- saying what a bitch you are.”
“Humph. That little mouse doesn’t scare me. She’s afraid of her own shadow. She’d jump clear out of her skin if you so much as said boo to her.”
“Why don’t we try that and see?” Austin snickered.
Amanda. Hetty was sure she hadn’t heard that name before. She would have to ask Dorothea about her later. Hetty felt sorry for her friend. The dining room was as busy as she had ever seen it. Dorothea and Simon scurried about, taking orders, bringing food, and carrying dirty dishes to the kitchen. They certainly could use more help. Dorothea appeared very nervous, and as she brought Austin and Amanda’s food to their table, the unthinkable happened. She dumped Amanda’s soup in her lap.
Amanda jumped to her feet, screaming. “You stupid, stupid girl! Can’t you do anything right? Look at my dress! It’s ruined!”
Dorothea burst into tears as she stood looking at the mess, and Hetty couldn’t help herself. She rose quickly from her seat and put her arms around her friend.
“Might I be of some assistance? Surely, things aren’t as bad as they seem.” Mr. Mosby smiled as he approached them, hat in hand.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Clay; this is my best dress, and this simpleton has destroyed it.” Amanda looked close to tears herself as she brushed at the stained skirt of her gown.
“There, there, Amanda. I’ll take care of this. After all, it happened on my property.”
Amanda scowled at him.
“Just take it to the laundry and have them send the bill to me.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Clay; you can’t launder fine silk. I’ll have to throw it away. She spilled that slop they call soup in my lap. It was scalding hot too. I’ll be lucky if I’m not injured for life.”
Mr. Mosby seemed a bit taken aback by her words, but Hetty thought he handled the situation quite well. “You go on home and change,” he told Amanda. “I’ll send Doctor Cleese to have a look at you.”
Amanda gave Dorothea one more scorching look. “You should really think about hiring someone more competent to run things here, Clay. I can’t believe how you’ve let this place go.”
Mr. Mosby frowned.
Austin, who had said nothing during the entire episode, smirked at Mr. Mosby as he rose and led the dripping woman away.
Mr. Mosby went back to his lunch, and Dorothea dried her eyes and set about cleaning up the mess. But Hetty’s appetite was spoiled, and after a few more sips of her now-cold soup, she rose from her table and left the dining room. She thought the situation over as she walked back to the library. She gathered from all that had transpired, that Amanda was the former owner of the Dove. She seemed to be on a first name basis with Mr. Mosby, and yet she certainly didn’t look like his social equal. Her best dress, even before the accident, had looked a bit shabby. And Hetty hadn’t missed the dark circles beneath her eyes and her work-roughened hands. She wondered what the woman’s circumstances were.
Hetty was deep in thought when she heard laughter. She glanced into the doorway of the shop she was passing and recognized Sara Pritchard. Hetty had met Sara in the library when she came in to borrow a book the day before yesterday -- one of Doctor Cleese’s books, if Hetty remembered correctly. Sara and another young woman, whom Hetty did not recognize, were looking at the book and giggling behind their hands. Hetty wondered what the two girls could find so funny. She didn’t remember Doctor Cleese loaning her any comedies.
“Good afternoon,” she called out.
Sara slammed the book shut and looked guiltily up at Hetty. “Hello, Miss Biddle,” she said.
Hetty heard them giggling again as she continued on her way. Hmmm. Now, that was rude, she thought. Sara didn’t even introduce me to her friend. It was hard getting acquainted in a new place. Thank goodness for Dorothea. And thank goodness for dear Anne. Hetty patted her pocket. Her sister’s letter had arrived just when she needed it most. She was looking forward to curling up on her bed after supper and catching up on all the news from home.
But now it was time to reopen the library. Business had been slow, just as Mr. Mosby had predicted it would be at first. But things were bound to pick up any day. Hetty was sure of it. She reached for the Assay Office door handle.
“Miss Hetty! Miss Hetty! Wait, Miss Hetty!”
Hetty looked up to see Unbob coming down the boardwalk in a big hurry. He was clutching the front of his shirt. What’s wrong, Unbob; have you hurt yourself? Let me see.”
“No. I’m all right. I got somethin’ fer ya.”
“For me? What is it? Can I see, Unbob?”
Unbob carefully opened his shirt to reveal the tiniest kitten Hetty had ever seen.
“O-oh, it’s so little! Where is its mother?”
“I dunno. I found it outside last night after the rain.”
“I see. Were there any others?”
“No, there was just the one. It was so wet and cold. I brought it in, and fed it some milk, and let it sleep with me all night. I was gonna keep it, but then I heard Mr. Mosby tellin’ Mr. Creel you had mice in the library. And, well, cats catch mice, don’t they? So I thought you needed this here cat more’n I do, so I brung it to ya.”
Unbob brought the kitten out of his shirt and gently handed it to Hetty. When the tiny cat opened its mouth to mew, the sound was so pitiful, that it melted Hetty’s heart right then and there. She held it in her hands and rubbed her cheek against its soft grey fur. To her delight, she heard a surprisingly loud purr. She smiled. “Thank you, Unbob. I don’t know when I have ever received a more wonderful gift.”
The simple man beamed and started to shuffle away.
“Just one more thing, Unbob. Do you think you could bring me some milk?”
Unbob smiled. “Yes, Ma’am! I’ll be right back!”
Hetty sighed. “That’s MISS, Unbob.” But he was already gone.
~~
The weather had been rainy. Mother had been sick with influenza. Anne had been the belle of several balls that spring, and Harriet’s twins were growing like weeds. Hetty read Anne’s letter twice, savoring the several weeks’ old news of her family. She missed them so much. She was still lonely here, but her life was interesting and full, and she was still happy that she had come out west. She reached into the drawer of the nightstand and took out her packet of letters, carefully slipping Anne’s latest in with the others. She held them in her lap for a moment, fiddling with the pale blue ribbon that held them.
The kitten chose that moment to pounce. It batted playfully at the ribbon and chewed on the ends as Hetty watched in delight. “My, aren’t you the playful one?” she said, petting the tiny head as the kitten continued to worry the ribbon ends. “I need to think of a name for you.”
She picked the kitten up and looked deep into its green eyes. “Hmmm. You look like an Elsie to me. That’s what I’ll call you. Elsie. I hope Unbob’s right about you being a girl. That name won’t do at all if you turn out to be a boy!”
After breakfast the next morning, Hetty tucked Elsie in her bag. “It’s awful nice of Simon and Dorothea to let me keep you here in the hotel, Elsie. I can’t leave you alone all day, though.” She brought the bag up to her face and peeked in, and Elsie reached out a tiny paw and poked her in the nose. Hetty laughed out loud. The cat was already such wonderful company for her.
She was making her way down the stairs when she met Newt Call coming up. “Oh, Mr. Call, I don’t believe we have ever been properly introduced. I’m Henrietta Biddle from Hartford, Connecticut. But you can call me Hetty. I’m the new librarian.” She offered her hand to the startled bounty hunter. “We bumped into each other when I first arrived. Do you remember?”
Call took her fingers gingerly in his, but before he could respond, Hetty launched into further conversation. “I’m so happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Call, I’ve heard ever so much about you. You’ll have to come by the library and check out a book. I’m sure I have something you would like, and I will have an even better selection when the books Mr. Mosby ordered arrive from St. Louis. I’m afraid that is still several weeks away. Anyway, we’ll have to get better acquainted then. I’m on my way to open up the library, and I don’t want to be late. I’m sure you understand.”
Call watched Hetty trip lightly down the stairs. Shaking his head, he turned and climbed the remaining steps to his room. He was dead tired, and her prattle made his head throb. All the man wanted was some peace and quiet.
“Well, he’s certainly a pleasant fellow,” Hetty remarked to Elsie as she made her way through the front doors of The Dove and out onto the boardwalk. “I don’t know why people act like he’s someone to be afraid of. It’s just like Mother says, ‘You can’t judge a book by its cover, Henrietta; there might be more between the pages than you would ever suspect.’ I think we are going to be real good friends with Mr. Call. He’s really quite good looking too, underneath all that grime. He should bathe more often though, and wash his clothes while he’s at it. After all, cleanliness is next to Godliness. Mother always says that too.” Hetty peeked into her bag and was delighted to see Elsie giving herself a bath. “What a good girl you are, Elsie! Mother would be so pleased!”
Across the street, Hetty spotted Sara Pritchard. She waved at the young woman, and Sara gave her a nod before ducking into the dress shop. Hetty noticed that she was carrying a large book under her arm. “My, Elsie, Sara certainly is enjoying her reading! She must be sharing that book with everyone in town! I’m so glad she found something she likes.”
The Assay Office door was standing ajar, letting in the fine spring morning air, and Hetty breezed in, giving Mr. Cummings a warm greeting, and reached into her bag for her door key. Elsie proceeded to grab at it with her tiny paws, but Hetty was the victor and soon had the door unlocked. She closed it behind her and released Elsie. “Now, Miss Elsie, you make yourself useful chasing mice. I have work to do.”
The morning passed slowly. The only visitors Hetty had were two young girls, and she felt terrible that she didn’t have any children’s books to offer them. They were delighted with Elsie, however, and stayed to play with her for a while.
After they had gone, Hetty went to the window and looked out at the bustling town. She noticed that the stage was about ready to pull out. She sighed. How she wished that it would return laden with the boxes of books Mr. Mosby had ordered for the library.
Luther Root was busy loading the stage, hefting heavy bundles and crates with ease. My, the man did have muscles! Why, he was the sort of fellow who could easily scoop a lady up in his big, strong arms and carry her over the threshold. Hetty sighed dreamily. She did so want to be a bride.
Hetty watched Luther admiringly for a while before deciding that she’d better step back from the window. It simply would not do to have Mr. Root catch her staring at him. What would he think of her? But as luck would have it, at that very moment Luther looked up and saw her. He waved and flashed her a big smile. Hetty blushed furiously and gave him a small nod in return.
But something else caught her attention before she could step away from the window. Two older ladies, Hetty didn’t know their names, were talking behind their hands and pointing at the Assay Office. Hetty peered at them. They wore shocked expressions on their faces. She wondered what they were saying. As she watched, more women joined them. In fact, a small group was gathering. What in the world? What could they be doing? Was the roof on fire or something? Hetty didn’t smell smoke. She looked around for Elsie, who was busy chasing her tail in the middle of the room. Perhaps she had better grab her and run outside. She’d better warn Mr. Cummings on her way out too. The poor man could be burned alive!
Hetty scooped Elsie up and stepped into the outer office. She took a cursory look around. Everything seemed to be in order. Mr. Cummings was arguing with a miner over the value of his gold dust, and he didn’t look up. Hetty sniffed the air again. Still no smoke.
Just then Dr. Cleese entered the establishment. He brightened when he saw Hetty. “Miss Biddle.”
“Dr. Cleese. Is everything all right outside?”
“Yes, I think so. Why?”
“There was a crowd gathering across the street.”
They both stepped into the library, and Ephraim went to the window and looked out. “There’s no one there now.”
Hetty looked over his shoulder. Yes, he was right. They were gone. She set Elsie back down on the floor.
Ephraim turned to face her. He cleared his throat. “Miss Biddle, there’s something I’ve come to ask you.”
Hetty’s heart skipped a beat. Was the little doctor going to ask her for a date? Mother would be so pleased. A doctor! She smiled sweetly at Ephraim. “Yes?”
“It’s about the books you borrowed.”
“Oh,” Hetty said, hiding her disappointment.
“Yes. When you picked up the pile I had designated to loan you, did you by any chance take my anatomy book?”
Hetty tried to remember. “I only took the books on the table by the door. That’s what you told me to do.”
“Hmmm. Well, it’s missing. I’ve looked high and low for it. I have a rather tricky operation to perform on Mrs. Olsen’s index finger next week, and I need to study that text before attempting it.”
Something was nagging at the back of Hetty’s mind. “Is it a large volume? Red in color?”
“Yes. The Atlas of Human Anatomy. You have it here then?” Dr. Cleese adjusted his small, round spectacles and scanned the shelves behind Hetty.
“Yes, that is to say, I did. Sara Pritchard checked it out a few days ago. I will ask her to return it.”
Ephraim looked shocked. “You don’t mean to tell me you loaned it out to someone! Why, Miss Biddle, there are pictures of the unclothed human body in that volume, which are fine for the physician to see, but in the wrong hands they could be quite shocking!”
Hetty’s stomach gave a sickening lurch.
At that moment, Mayor Peale entered the library with two older women. He laid a large red book on Hetty’s desk.
“My anatomy! Now Mrs. Olsen can have her operation.” Doctor Cleese grabbed the volume and headed for the door. “Thank you for returning this to me, Josiah. Good day, Hetty, ladies.”
“Ephraim, you may as well stay. What I have to say to Miss Biddle concerns you too.”
Josiah turned to Hetty. “Miss Biddle, it appears that a kerfuffle has occurred. You allowed Sara Pritchard to check out a book containing adult subject matter. Some of the townsfolk think it is inappropriate for young eyes to see such things.”
“Any eyes if you ask me,” the woman next to him said. She cast a disapproving eye on Hetty.
“Allow me to introduce Miss Ruby Longbottom and her sister, Eula Mae,” Josiah said.
Ruby Longbottom elbowed her way in front of him and stood glaring at Hetty. Hetty could swear there was smoke coming out of her nostrils. The woman drew herself up to her full height. “Miss Biddle, what kind of place are you running here, that puts pornography in the hands of young, unmarried women?”
Eula Mae looked equally outraged. Doctor Cleese looked stunned behind his round spectacles. Mayor Peale looked like he was about to laugh.
Hetty felt like crying. “Oh dear. It was all a mistake. I didn’t know what kind of book it was. I guess I should have gone through it more carefully before I let Sara take it out.”
“Well, I guess you should have!” sputtered Ruby.
“I should say so!” her sister agreed with an indignant nod.
“I’ll have your job for this,” Ruby continued. “We don’t need people like you coming here and corrupting our youth.”
While Hetty stared at her in stunned silence, Ruby turned to Josiah once more. “Mayor Peale, I insist that you call a meeting of the town council to discuss this heinous crime.”
“Now, ladies,” Josiah soothed, “I’m sure this can all be sorted out to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“Well, we’ll just see about that, won’t we?” With one more indignant glance at Hetty, Miss Ruby stormed out of the library with Miss Eula Mae close on her heels.
“Are you calling a meeting then, Josiah?” Dr. Cleese asked.
Josiah shrugged. “I guess so. It looks like nothing else will call off the Longbottoms.” He smiled apologetically at Hetty. "Miss Biddle, you can be there to defend yourself if you like. But I’m sure nothing will come of this.”
Hetty gulped. “I wish I had your confidence.”
The little doctor smiled encouragingly at her. “Try not to worry. I’ll do what I can to smooth things over. After all, I am partly to blame.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Hetty said.
“It will be tonight at seven o’clock at the church,” Josiah informed Hetty. “We usually meet at the Ambrosia, but the Longbottoms wouldn’t set foot in that den of iniquity, as they call it.”
As Hetty watched them leave, she realized that her knees were shaking. She sank down in her chair and buried her face in her arms. “Oh, woe is me, Elsie. I’ve made such a terrible mess of everything. And I was on trial! Now Mr. Mosby will never give me a permanent position as Curtis Wells’ librarian.”
Elsie meowed and rubbed her head against Hetty’s skirt, and Hetty reached down and picked her up. The kitten purred and snuggled against her, and Hetty silently blessed Unbob for his simple gift. She really needed a friend just now.
Hetty put Elsie down on her desk and watched her wander over to a stack of papers, where she sat down and proceeded to give herself a thorough cleaning. Then the kitten yawned, and stretched, and curled up in a ball for a nap. Soon she was fast asleep.
It was a very warm day, and the air in the room was oppressive. Hetty glanced down at the watch pinned to her breast. It had been hours since anyone had been in to borrow a book, and she couldn’t help wondering if everyone in town knew of her shame and was staying away on purpose. She sighed. She needed to get some air. A stroll in the prairie wildflowers would help clear her head.
Hetty’s thoughts were in turmoil as she headed out the door. She didn’t know what she was going to say to defend herself at the meeting. It was awfully nice of Dr. Cleese to shoulder some of the blame, but she knew it was mostly her fault. And oh, she so wanted to stay in Curtis Wells! But now she was sure she would be asked to leave, just when the library was getting a good start. When all the new books came in, who would catalogue them? And who would help Unbob with his reading?
Thus preoccupied, Hetty stepped down off the boardwalk, directly in the path of an oncoming rider. She heard the rearing horse scream, and she narrowly escaped being trampled as the cursing rider struggled to bring his mount under control.
Hetty stood frozen in her tracks as the man circled back.
An irate Newt Call glared down at her. “Why don’t you watch where you’re goin’? You could get yourself killed doin’ that.”
For once in her life, Hetty found herself speechless. She stood staring at him open-mouthed.
Mr. Call didn’t wait for an answer but guided his mare in a wide berth around her and continued on down the street.
This was the last straw. Hetty simply could not take any more. She took a quick look around to see if anyone was watching and then ducked into the alley. She sank down against the wall of the nearest building, and hiding her face in her hands, gave in to a flood of tears. Of course, her nose started to run, and she reached into her pocket for a handkerchief. But there was nothing there. “Oh dear,” Hetty sniffed. “What would Mother say? She always told me, ‘Henrietta, always be sure you have a clean handkerchief in your pocket before you go out.’”
As she searched her other pocket, two large feet suddenly appeared before her. Through her tears, her eyes roamed up, up and up.
“Miss Hetty? What’s wrong? You look like you just lost your last friend.” Mr. Root turned his back to the wall and slid down next to her. “What’s got you so down in the mouth?”
“Oh, Mr. Root, it’s just awful!” Hetty wailed. “I’ve made a terrible mess of things! I’m going to lose my job, and now I’ve upset Mr. Call. And we were just getting to be good friends.”
“Call? Aw, don’t worry about him. He gets mad, but it don’t last. He’s been mad at me plenty of times, and he always gets over it. Hell, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over Call.”
“Are you sure he’ll give me another chance?”
“Yeah, sure he will. But what’s this about losin’ yer job?”
“Oh dear. It’s complicated. And anyway, don’t you have to be going? I thought the stage was pulling out.”
“I got a few more minutes ‘fore I gotta go.”
Hetty finally came up with a handkerchief and dabbed at her red eyes and nose.
“Say, I know what you need,” Luther said. Come on over to the Number Ten, and I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Oh, thank you kindly, I’m sure,” Hetty said, “but I couldn’t.”
“Sure ya could. What’s stopping ya?”
“Oh, Mr. Root, I’m in enough trouble as it is. All I need is to have those old biddies see me imbibing.” Hetty suddenly realized what she had said. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called them that. It was less than charitable of me.”
“What old biddies?”
“The Longbottom sisters. They accused me of loaning out pornography. And I did!” she wailed. “Only I didn’t know it at the time.”
Luther looked confused. “Po, po-nog, what’d you call it?”
Hetty stopped crying long enough to blush bright red. “Oh, never mind. But trust me, it isn’t good, and Miss Ruby says she’ll have my job, and then I’ll have to go back to Hartford in disgrace. Oh, it’s too mean!”
“Don’t mind them two old hags, Miss Hetty. They always got their knickers in a knot about somethin’. It’ll all blow over; you wait ‘n see if it don’t.”
Hetty dried her eyes once more. “Do you really think so?” she sniffed.
Luther slapped her on the back so hard she almost choked. “Sure thing.” He got to his feet. “I gotta go now, but you keep yer chin up. I’ll be back at the end of the week, and we’ll have that drink t’ celebrate.”
Hetty gave him a wan smile as he disappeared around the corner. What a nice man Mr. Root was, she thought. She sat a while longer until she felt better, then got up and brushed off her skirt. She peeked out of the alley to see if anyone was coming. This time the coast was clear, and Hetty darted across the road and headed out for her walk.
~~
Supper was out of the question that night; Hetty was much too nervous too eat. She tried talking to Dorothea about her predicament. But while sympathetic to her friend’s plight, Dorothea was too busy to do more than hear her out and give her a hug before hurrying to wait on her supper guests.
With a sigh, Hetty headed up to her room. She fed Elsie some tidbits she had brought from the kitchen, then tried to read a book. But she couldn’t focus her attention on it and ended up pacing the floor until it was almost time to go. At a quarter to seven, she checked her hair in the mirror and thought that overall, she didn’t look too bad. Her walk on the prairie had put some color in her cheeks, and her eyes were bright and alert. She wondered if she was properly attired for a town council meeting. She did want to look her best. She smoothed her plain black skirt and ruffled shirtwaist. Yes, it would do. Going over to the bureau, she opened a drawer and took out her grandmother’s amethyst brooch and pinned it on for luck. Mother had given her the brooch the day she left Hartford. “It’s yours by rights, Hetty, as my oldest daughter,” she had said. “I was saving it for the day you got married. But you might as well have it now, and you can still wear it on your wedding day.” Hetty sighed. Goodness only knew when that blessed event would take place. “Wish me luck, Elsie,” she said.
As she exited the Dove, Hetty noticed Mr. Call sitting on a bench just outside the door. The blond man nodded at her, and the ghost of a smile flitted over his fair features. Amazed, Hetty returned his smile. And her own smile grew as she continued down the boardwalk. Could Mr. Call have forgotten about this afternoon already? Why, he must have! Mr. Root was right about his friend. The knowledge that she was forgiven did wonders to lighten Hetty’s mood. And she had to admit that the encounter was thrilling for another reason. The bounty hunter was very handsome when he almost smiled!
Thus buoyed up, Hetty squared her shoulders and continued on her way. “I’m not going to let them get to me,” she told herself. “I’ll show them. We Biddles are made of stern stuff. Why, Aunt Margaret had to face the entire Ladies’ Temperance Society when they found out that Uncle Lester was making potato wine in the Hartford library basement. At least there won’t be seventy-six women pointing their fingers at me tonight -- at any rate I hope not.”
As it turned out, there were four. Ruby and Eula Mae Longbottom were there, of course, as was Sara Pritchard’s mother. The fourth woman in the room was the mother of Mary Owens, Sara’s best friend. Mrs. Pritchard and Mrs. Owens had brought their husbands with them.
Mr. Pritchard looked downright bored, but Mr. Owens smiled and nodded at Hetty when she entered the church. His wife glared at him and motioned for him to join her in a pew, and with an apologetic glance at Hetty, he obeyed her.
Last to arrive was Mr. Mosby. He gave Hetty a slight nod before taking a seat in front of her. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he thought of the matter at hand, and she felt her butterflies return as she waited for Mayor Peale to call the meeting to order. But by this time, Mayor Peale and Mr. Pritchard were deep in conversation about civic improvements each wanted to see in Curtis Wells.
Mr. Mosby waited patiently at first. He stretched out his arm, drumming his fingers on the back of the pew. After a few moments, Hetty saw him pull out his pocket watch and glance at it. He put it away and resumed drumming. It seemed to Hetty that the drumming was growing louder and louder. Mr. Mosby fidgeted in his seat and cleared his throat. If he was trying to get Mayor Peale’s attention, as Hetty suspected, the older man was oblivious to that fact as he chatted happily with Mr. Pritchard, not even looking in Mr. Mosby’s direction.
At last Mr. Mosby spoke up. “Mayor Peale, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to get this meetin’ started before we all grow another year older.”
Mayor Peale nodded to Mr. Mosby, and Mr. Pritchard took his seat. Mayor Peale took a gavel out of his pocket and rapped it on the pulpit for attention as he called the meeting to order. He gave Ruby Longbottom permission to speak first, and she presented the facts as she saw them. Hetty was a menace to decent society, and she should be asked to pack up and leave immediately, that is, if they couldn’t actually ride her out of town on a rail. Ruby represented all the decent townsfolk who were outraged at the idea that innocent, young girls had seen things that might scar them for life. Ruby further suggested that it might be better not to have a library at all. Things had been much better before these easterners with their liberal ideas started moving into town.
“If I might be permitted to speak.” Doctor Cleese rose and addressed those present. “I am partly to blame for what has occurred. My Anatomy text was never meant to fall into private hands. It was given to Miss Biddle by mistake. But, be that as it may, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. The human body is a beautiful and complex thing. There are six hundred and forty muscles in the body, such as the Gluteus Maximus, Medius and Minimus, the Pectoralis Major and Pectoralis Minor, the Latisimus Dorsi, the Biceps, Triceps, and Quadraceps. And there are two hundred and six bones as well. Why, there are twenty-seven separate bones in the human hand alone! And my atlas has meticulously labeled diagrams of each of them, as well as all of the ligaments, tendons, veins, arteries and organs. Why, it is a daunting task to learn them all, and your progeny should be applauded for the interest they have shown. Perhaps one of them might have a brilliant career in medicine one day.”
Hetty was so moved by the little doctor’s stirring speech that she felt like jumping to her feet and bursting into applause, but she restrained herself.
Mrs. Pritchard was not that easily appeased. “Doctor Cleese, I hardly think the girls were learning the names of muscles and ligaments.”
Josiah took the floor once more. “Now, we all know that it’s natural for young folks to be curious about these things. There’s no real harm done.”
“No harm done?” Ruby challenged. “Half the women in this town saw those disgusting pictures.”
“Does that mean that you saw them too?” Mr. Mosby had risen to his feet to address the town gossip.
“Humph! Well, I never!” Ruby exclaimed.
“And that, Madam, is precisely the problem,” Mr. Mosby informed her.
Ruby’s mouth dropped open, and she sank down next to her sister, Eula Mae, without another word.
Hetty knew her moment had come, and although her knees were still shaking, she asked for permission to speak. When Josiah recognized her, she smoothed her skirt and walked confidently to the front of the room. She turned and faced them all, clearing her throat to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for hearing me out. I don’t deny my blame in this matter. As my mother would say, ‘Henrietta when are you going to learn to look before you leap?’ And that, to my shame, is exactly what I did. I have no idea how the book in question came to be in my possession, but one thing is certain. I should have paid closer attention before I lent it out, and I’m awfully sorry. But the good thing about me is that although I make lots of mistakes, I never make the same one twice. So it won’t happen again; I assure you. I just hope you’ll give me another chance. All I want is to provide Curtis Wells with a fine library and foster learning among its citizens. You have a fine community here. I like it very much. And, with your permission, I’d like to stay.”
“Bravo, Miss Biddle!” Josiah responded, beaming at Hetty as she resumed her seat.
“Well! There’s no question where you stand, Mayor Peale,” humphed Mrs. Pritchard.
Mayor Peale ignored her. “I believe we have heard from everyone. If there is no more discussion, I would like to thank you all for coming,” he said. “We should have a decision for you very soon.”
Hetty was the last to leave the church. Once outside, she took a deep breath of the cool, Montana evening air and let it out slowly in a big sigh. She had done her best. That was all anyone could ask of her and all that she could ask of herself. But she was still worried. Her situation was very uncertain.
As she wandered slowly back to town, Hetty began to regret her decision to skip supper. It was almost nine o’clock, and the dining room was closed, but she wondered if she could persuade Dorothea to give her a cup of tea and maybe a biscuit. She guessed it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
A short while later, as she sipped her tea and nibbled one of Callie’s oatmeal raisin cookies, Hetty saw Mr. Mosby come into the Dove. He glanced around the room, his eyes coming to rest on her, and she stood up as he made his way to her table.
“Miss Biddle.”
“Hetty, please,” Hetty said.
“What?”
“Hetty. You said you would call me Hetty from now on, remember?”
“Oh, yes. Quite. Hetty, I’ll come straight to the point. We have come to a decision regardin’ your employment.”
Hetty wrung her hands nervously.
“It is the council’s unanimous decision that you are innocent of any wrong doin’ in the book affair.”
“Oh, Mr. Mosby, I’ve been so worried!”
Clay grinned at her. “Don’t give it another thought. Why, you actually did those girls a favor -- broadened their horizons. Enhanced their education a bit. “
Hetty blushed. “Well, if you really think so . . .”
He continued. “There’s more. I’ve decided your trial period is over. I’m makin’ your position a permanent one. You will stay on as Curtis Wells’ head librarian.”
“Oh, Mr. Mosby!” Hetty launched herself at him. “Oh, you won’t be sorry! I won’t let you down. I’ll be the best librarian ever! You wait and see if I’m not.”
Mr. Mosby, whose eyes were starting to bulge slightly from her grip around his neck, pried himself loose from her embrace. “I have one other bit of news that might be of interest to you,” he said as he loosened his collar with one finger. “I’ve procured a suitable buildin’ to house the library. It needs a few repairs and a thorough cleanin’, but it’s yours if you want it.”
Hetty’s face lit up with joy at this welcome news. “If I want it? Of course I want it!”
“And there is a small apartment on the second floor. It’s nothin’ fancy, but you will be able to live on the premises. How does that suit you?” He held up his hands and stepped back slightly when he saw Hetty fixing to grab him again.
Hetty didn’t notice. Clasping her hands together in rapture she cried, “My own place! And above the library! Just think how convenient that will be. Oh, it’s too perfect! Thank you, Mr. Mosby! Thank you! Thank you!”
Clay couldn’t help smiling at her enthusiasm. “There’s still some work to be done. You’ll have to do your share of the cleanin’.”
“Oh, I don’t mind hard work. When do I start?” Hetty asked, rolling up her sleeves.
Clay laughed. “Don’t get out your mop and bucket yet. Saturday mornin’ will be soon enough.”
Hetty’s feet barely touched the ground as she raced out of the Dove. Just think! A ready-made library! And an apartment of her very own for her and Elsie to live in. She had to see it right away. Mr. Mosby said it was between the bank and the general store, and Hetty went quickly to look at it. She stood in the street looking up her future home. She could just imagine the sign hanging on the front: Curtis Wells Public Library. As darkness descended slowly on the little Montana town, Hetty imagined her lamp glowing in the upstairs window. She couldn’t wait to move in.
That night Hetty spent an extra long time on her knees. “Thank you, God, for allowing me to stay in Curtis Wells. You won’t be sorry; I promise. I’ll do my very, very best. Elsie and I both will. And dear God, please bless Mr. Mosby. He’s been awfully good to me. And bless Unbob for being my friend and giving me Elsie. And bless Mr. Root. You know, God, he’s awfully good looking. He’s so big and strong. Watching him makes me go weak in the knees. And God, I was just wondering. If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could make him like me a little -- as more than a friend, I mean? If that’s too much to ask, I’ll understand though, honest I will. At least I’ll try. And God, please bless Mr. Call. He seems so sad. I know he misses his wife. I wonder what she was like. Anyway, God, if there’s anything I can do to lighten his load, I want to do it. Please show me how. And please bless Mayor Peale. He’s sad too. And you might as well bless that son of his, Austin. Help him treat his father better. Family is important. Please bless mine. Thank you, God, for everything. Amen.”
Hetty got up from her knees and climbed into her bed with a grateful heart. A purring Elsie snuggled under her chin, and soon they were both fast asleep.
The End (to be continued)
7/2004
