poverty.
The hopelessness.
They haunted her dreams, but Jess hadn’t remembered it all quite so clearly since she’d left New York for her sabbatical in Sarasota Springs.
“…all right, Miss Layton? You look a little peaked.”
Jessica was jerked back to the counter at Wegner’s Laundry. “Yes, I’m sorry.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. Her dress was stuck to her back, and her heart felt as if it were pounding as hard as the grange band’s bass drum. A suffocating feeling of panic overwhelmed her, and she struggled to hide it. “It—it’s quite warm in here, isn’t it?”
“Oh, sure, summers are real hard in this business, although that new electric fan helps.” Mr. Wegner’s own face gleamed with a sweaty luster as he pointed to a spinning blade in its wire cage. “But come next month—from November to March, we’ll be warm as toast.”
She reached into her bag and withdrew a handkerchief. “Well, I—I must be running along.” If she didn’t get out of here, she was afraid she’d faint. Or worse.
“That’s fine. I’ll send a girl around when—”
But Jess had already edged out the doorway and was on the sidewalk. Pausing under Wegner’s awning, she dabbed at her temples with the square of linen balled in her hand. She was relieved to be outside where it was much cooler, but was troubled by the panic she’d felt.
When would the memories leave her in peace? she wondered. Had they become so deeply etched in her mind that they would play again and again, like scenes in a moving picture? No, she asserted, it wasn’t possible. She’d feel better when she got to Seattle—she’d get a fresh start and new memories to shut out the old ones.
Drawing a deep, steadying breath, she pushed the damp hankie into her skirt pocket and made her way back down Main Street. When she reached the office, she saw that Eddie Cookson was gone.
Good. At least someone had come for him. He really needed bed rest and decent nursing care.
CHAPTER SIX
“Boy, now what are you up to?” Shaw Braddock reined his horse in front of Cole’s building.
Damn it, Cole thought, his hand tightening on a suitcase grip. He’d hoped that Tilly’s and the excitement of the Liberty Bond doings would keep his father busy until Cole had gotten Jessica’s rigging moved into the new office space. Maybe he hadn’t heard that the mayor drafted her to fill in for Pearson, and that she’d be living in the doctor’s quarters. Now, here Cole was, with Jess’s trunks in the Ford, parked in front of the office. On the sidewalk next to him was Winks Lamont, whom he’d hired to help move the box of books. It wouldn’t cost him much more than the price of a couple of beers, since the simpleminded old rummy spent most of his time at the end of Tilly’s bar cadging drinks. On the other hand, he wasn’t worth more. Winks smelled like an overripe cheese left in an outhouse during a heat wave.
“I thought you were hobnobbing down at the saloon.”
“Did that already. I’m on my way home. It’ll be dark soon.” The old man waved in the general direction of the home place. “We put some pressure on those slackers in the crowd, too, the ones who claim they can’t join the army just now. They all have thin, whiny excuses. ‘My ma needs me,’ ‘I can’t see so good,’ ‘I got to tend the stock.’ Your brother didn’t say any of that stuff. He just went, like a man should. It ain’t a matter of convenience. This is war.”
Cole clenched his jaw. “Maybe those men aren’t making excuses. They’re probably telling the truth.”
“Bah! Anyway, you still haven’t told me what you’re doing with this junk.”
“Jessica is going to stay here for a month.”
The old man eyed him from Muley’s tall back. “Oh, she is, huh?”
“Yeah,” Cole answered, hefting the case from the truck. “Horace asked her to stay for a while, and the town is paying the rent.” He shrugged. “It’s better than having the
The hopelessness.
They haunted her dreams, but Jess hadn’t remembered it all quite so clearly since she’d left New York for her sabbatical in Sarasota Springs.
“…all right, Miss Layton? You look a little peaked.”
Jessica was jerked back to the counter at Wegner’s Laundry. “Yes, I’m sorry.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. Her dress was stuck to her back, and her heart felt as if it were pounding as hard as the grange band’s bass drum. A suffocating feeling of panic overwhelmed her, and she struggled to hide it. “It—it’s quite warm in here, isn’t it?”
“Oh, sure, summers are real hard in this business, although that new electric fan helps.” Mr. Wegner’s own face gleamed with a sweaty luster as he pointed to a spinning blade in its wire cage. “But come next month—from November to March, we’ll be warm as toast.”
She reached into her bag and withdrew a handkerchief. “Well, I—I must be running along.” If she didn’t get out of here, she was afraid she’d faint. Or worse.
“That’s fine. I’ll send a girl around when—”
But Jess had already edged out the doorway and was on the sidewalk. Pausing under Wegner’s awning, she dabbed at her temples with the square of linen balled in her hand. She was relieved to be outside where it was much cooler, but was troubled by the panic she’d felt.
When would the memories leave her in peace? she wondered. Had they become so deeply etched in her mind that they would play again and again, like scenes in a moving picture? No, she asserted, it wasn’t possible. She’d feel better when she got to Seattle—she’d get a fresh start and new memories to shut out the old ones.
Drawing a deep, steadying breath, she pushed the damp hankie into her skirt pocket and made her way back down Main Street. When she reached the office, she saw that Eddie Cookson was gone.
Good. At least someone had come for him. He really needed bed rest and decent nursing care.
CHAPTER SIX
“Boy, now what are you up to?” Shaw Braddock reined his horse in front of Cole’s building.
Damn it, Cole thought, his hand tightening on a suitcase grip. He’d hoped that Tilly’s and the excitement of the Liberty Bond doings would keep his father busy until Cole had gotten Jessica’s rigging moved into the new office space. Maybe he hadn’t heard that the mayor drafted her to fill in for Pearson, and that she’d be living in the doctor’s quarters. Now, here Cole was, with Jess’s trunks in the Ford, parked in front of the office. On the sidewalk next to him was Winks Lamont, whom he’d hired to help move the box of books. It wouldn’t cost him much more than the price of a couple of beers, since the simpleminded old rummy spent most of his time at the end of Tilly’s bar cadging drinks. On the other hand, he wasn’t worth more. Winks smelled like an overripe cheese left in an outhouse during a heat wave.
“I thought you were hobnobbing down at the saloon.”
“Did that already. I’m on my way home. It’ll be dark soon.” The old man waved in the general direction of the home place. “We put some pressure on those slackers in the crowd, too, the ones who claim they can’t join the army just now. They all have thin, whiny excuses. ‘My ma needs me,’ ‘I can’t see so good,’ ‘I got to tend the stock.’ Your brother didn’t say any of that stuff. He just went, like a man should. It ain’t a matter of convenience. This is war.”
Cole clenched his jaw. “Maybe those men aren’t making excuses. They’re probably telling the truth.”
“Bah! Anyway, you still haven’t told me what you’re doing with this junk.”
“Jessica is going to stay here for a month.”
The old man eyed him from Muley’s tall back. “Oh, she is, huh?”
“Yeah,” Cole answered, hefting the case from the truck. “Horace asked her to stay for a while, and the town is paying the rent.” He shrugged. “It’s better than having the
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