Rhona McRae

The train stopped at Creede in a puff of black smoke and the screech of metal wheels. Mrs. Sanderson had slept through most of the journey since they’d switched trains in Colorado Springs. Rhona’s neck and back were stiff and sore from not moving, and her arm was numb since Mrs. Sanderson had slept against her the whole time. Rhona knew it was her own fault. She’d wanted the money, so she’d agreed to accompany the elderly woman to her monthly visits to the specialist in Denver.

Rhona pushed Mrs. Sanderson to sit upright and waited for her to wake. “We’re home, Mrs. Sanderson. We’ve arrived in Creede.”

The woman blustered incoherently but slowly blinked her eyes.

Rhona looked over at the livery where Otto and Sophia Clay lived. Every time Rhona had made this trip for the past five months, her respect had deepened for Sophia, who had been the crabby woman’s companion every day for months. How was that even possible? Rhona only had to attend her for three days at a time. Sophia was a saint—that’s what she was.

With any luck, there would be just one or two more visits in Rhona’s future. She already had a suspicion that Mrs. Sanderson was milking the doctor visits. This time, the physician had told her that her local doctor would be able to take over her care.

“I’ll be back next month,” had been her reply to that.

“Are you ready yet?” Mrs. Sanderson snapped as she stood on wobbly legs. “I don’t have time to sit around all day.”

Rhona smiled and helped Mrs. Sanderson off the train and to her ride just outside the station before waving goodbye. Ten dollars was ten dollars. Every time was worth it. She picked up her travel case and turned toward the Hearth and Home, anxious to have a hot bath.

“I need a place to stay,” a finely dressed woman said to the trainman on the platform.

“There is a boarding house that takes in women and families across the street, or there are a couple of hotels down the road a ways,” he replied.

“Excuse me,” Rhona said. “I’m on my way to the Hearth and Home boarding house. Would you like to walk with me?”

The woman’s eyes traveled the length of Rhona’s dress. Rhona had been traveling for the past three days and knew she must look a mess.

“How will I get my trunk there?” the woman asked. “Can you find someone to transport it for me?”

Rhona looked around but didn’t see anyone she knew. “We’ll send someone for it. Meanwhile, ask them to hold it at the station for you.”

Rhona waited on the platform while the woman made arrangements. People who’d just arrived in Creede were leaving the station. Others were coming, and still more bustled around, receiving or leaving freight. It wasn’t the most welcoming first sight of the town. Rhona was glad she was there to help her out. When the woman returned, Rhona said, “Welcome to Creede. My name is Rhona McRae.”

“It would be. I could tell by your accent that you’re straight off the boat.”

Rhona tried not to be offended. It wasn’t that the words were cruel, and they were true. But they were said completely without emotion, as if she was talking to a wall. Perhaps she was tired, too. Maybe she’d traveled a long way and wasn’t being rude on purpose. Rhona paused, but the woman never introduced herself. “Let’s get going.”

When they got to Hearth and Home, the restaurant was busy with every table filled. It was that way whenever the train arrived. People hopped off, got a hearty meal, then boarded again and continued to their destination. Julianne had just delivered a tray of meals to a table when Rhona stopped her.

Rhona turned toward the woman and said, “This is Mrs. Fontaine, the owner of the boarding house. She can help you.” Then she turned toward the stairs.

“Rhona, we’re so busy with the customers. I wonder if you’d mind settling in Mrs. . . I’m sorry. What is your name?”

“Oh, Mrs. Fontaine. I’m happy to meet you. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. Mrs. Dionysia D’Arcy.” She smiled with an air of importance. “I’ll need a room for a few weeks, please. Will that be all right?”

“Of course. Rhona, could you please help her to room seven?”

“I will. Shall I come down and help after that?”

“In the kitchen.” Julianne nodded, smiled, and raised her eyebrows as if apologizing for putting her right to work. “It’s probably quite a mess by now.”

Upstairs, the woman’s tone changed. Where she’d been smiles and “please” this and “sorry” that, now she said, “Make sure you get my trunk delivered.”

“I will. Breakfast is from six till nine. Meals aren’t included in the price of the room, but the restaurant downstairs is nice, and there are several others in town. We change the sheets on Saturdays for extended guests.”

Mrs. D’Arcy removed her hat and set it on the dresser. “I need a warm bath sent up and someone to freshen and iron my clothes once they arrive.” Then she flicked her hand. “You’re dismissed.”

Rhona was all too glad to leave the pompous woman and walked down the stairs to make arrangements. If that woman had a kind bone in her body, it was probably tucked way in back. Rhona decided that she hardly cared, but she hoped Mrs. Dionysia D’Arcy wasn’t planning to stay in Creede for long.

Later that afternoon, Rhona re-entered the dining room to see how she could help. She’d had a good meal, a bath, and a nap and was feeling much more charitable. She approached Mrs. D’Arcy’s table as Julianne and Millie stepped from the kitchen.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. D’Arcy,” Rhona said.

The woman’s steely gaze fixed on her, but she didn’t utter a word. Nope. There’d been no improvement.

“How was your rest?” Julianne asked as she approached. Rhona noticed that Julianne was looking straight at her, but Mrs. D’Arcy answered.

“It was lovely. You have a very nice house. I was quite comfy.”

Millie chuckled a little from where she was setting down the coffee service.

“Thank you so much,” Dionysia continued. “You’ve made a fine business. It’s wonderful to meet two such enterprising women. I’m a businesswoman myself.” She placed two introduction cards in front of Millie and Julianne.

Millie read hers aloud. “Mrs. Dionysia D’Arcy, Matron of Mail Order Brides.”

“Please join me.” Dionysia stood, positioning her back to Rhona, and waved the other two ladies to the vacant chairs.

“Will you join us for a coffee break today?” Millie asked Rhona.

“Thank you. Not today. I’ve promised to help my sister.” She walked away, happy to be escaping.

Isla had already started a load of laundry in the washing machine when Rhona arrived. “I really don’t mind doing this alone if you’d like to rest some more,” Isla said.

“I’m ready to work.” The two took turns manning the machine, carrying hot water, and hanging the clean tablecloths, sheets, towels, and aprons.

“You should apply for a different job, Rhona.”

“What?” Isla didn’t answer, so Rhona tapped her on the shoulder as she fed napkins through the wringer and asked again. “What did you say about a different job?”

Isla’s eyebrows scrunched together. “I didn’t say anything at all.”

The pile on the floor was shrinking, and the drying lines were filling as the women worked.

“There’s a job at the newspaper office. Go, of the now, or it’ll be gone.”

Rhona spun around with her hands on her hips. “I know I heard that.”

“Heard what?” Isla looked at her for only a moment.

“You sounded just like Mama.” Rhona’s mind conjured a possibility. “Really? You don’t suppose she . . .?” Rhona shook her head. She would not even consider that.

“Well then, you’re either tired or crazy. I’m not talking, and you’re hearing things.”

Rhona thought about it for a moment. Would Mama, or even, could Mama . . .? Isla was right. Rhona was crazy. Still, she could just go see. What if it was true, and she could get a job there? It would be like a dream come true. She had to know. She dropped the dirty sheet back into the pile. “I’ll ask Eileen to come help with the last few.”

“Where are you going?” Isla asked as she pinned a napkin to the wire.

At the doorway Rhona answered, “To get another job.”