Deidra dismounted her mare, Feather, and walked the few steps to a vacant hitching post between the blacksmith’s shop and Carrie Johnson’s millinery and dress shop. Tying Feather’s leads to the post, she smoothed her hands over her clothing. The simple blue skirt and white ruffled blouse she’d worn today were both a bit rumpled from the ride. Since the temperatures were a bit higher today and the sun was shining brightly overhead, she’d forgone the heavy winter cloak. Checking the angle of her small flower-adorned silk hat, she stepped onto the walk and looked around for Lorna.
Glancing down both ends of the street, she spotted Lorna walking down the walk on the other side of the street. While Deidra watched, Lorna passed Dr. Doyle’s office, waited for a passing buggy, then crossed the street.
“Thank you so much for meeting me here.” Lorna’s smile displayed her appreciation. “I don’t think I coulda done this alone.” She fussed with the light blue ribbon circling her short black curls.
She put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m glad to do it, dear. And don’t worry, There’s not a more skilled seamstress in all of Graham. Mrs. Johnson will be lucky to have you.”
She blushed, a touch of red coloring her cocoa cheeks. “I sure hope Mrs. Johnson will agree.”
Deidra strolled to the door and held it open. “Come on in, Lorna. Let’s get you that job.”
Inside the shop, the air was scented with the cinnamon sticks Carrie favored. Dress forms scattered about displayed the shopkeeper’s newest creations, including hats, gowns, skirts, and all manner of clothing. A few of the town’s female citizens moved around the space, shopping or conversing with one another.
When Deidra entered with Lorna, however, all conversation ceased and all eyes turned their way. Even though the staring was quite blatant, no one offered a greeting.
Accustomed to such treatment, Deidra gave a wave. “Good afternoon, ladies.” With an easy smile on her face, she meandered over to the wooden counter where Carrie Johnson stood, making a show of counting buttons in a silver tray.
Deidra gave her a few moments to acknowledge their presence. When she didn’t, she spoke up. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Johnson. Lorna has come to apply for the apprenticeship.” She gestured to Lorna, who offered a wave and a smile of her own.
Carrie barely looked up from her buttons. “The position’s been filled.”
From somewhere in the room, a small voice responded. “But you just told my mama you can’t keep up with your orders lest you hire somebody right away.”
All gazes shifted to the source of the comment, a small girl holding a bundle of fabric. Her wide-eyed mother clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.
Deidra stepped back, feeling the smile curve her lips. “Go on, Lorna. Make your case.”
Before Carrie could protest, Lorna leaned on the counter. “I’ve made dresses, scarves, wraps, and all kinds of things for the girls. Plus I can mend and darn, take measurements for drapes and tablecloths...”
Carrie finally opened her tightly pursed lips. “Look, that’s all mighty nice. But I can’t have your kind working here. It’ll offend my clients.”
Deidra waited a few moments, on the off chance that one of the women present might contradict Carrie and stand up for Lorna. After a long, awkward silence, she sighed. “Land sakes, Carrie. Get off your high horse. You see this skirt and blouse I’m wearing?”
Carrie, her face still tight, nodded.
“Look at the detailing.” Deidra swept her hands over the parts of her clothing as she spoke. “Look this lace. It’s hand-spun. The pearl buttons? Applied one by one, with great care. Lorna knows what she’s doing, and she can start off the reel. There isn’t a better seamstress to be had between here and Gettysburg, and you know it.”
Carrie huffed. “That may be true, but...”
“But what?” Lorna asked the question pointedly, her arms folded over her chest. “You’ll put your own silly prejudices before serving the needs of your customers? If that’s how you run your business, you won’t be around long. And when your shop closes, I’ll buy it and open it as my own.”
Carrie’s eyes grew so wide they rivaled two full moons. Then they narrowed, and she slapped the counter. “Fine. You can start tomorrow. Be here at eight sharp, and you best be on time.”
Lorna clapped her hands together. “Thank you, thank you, Mrs. Johnson. Don’t worry, I won’t be late.”
As she strolled out with Lorna, Deidra threw a wink at the outdone Carrie. “Don’t worry, honey. You made the right decision.”
Back outside in the sunshine, she reveled in the beauty of Lorna’s happy smile. After what they’d been through together, it filled her heart to see one of her girls this happy.
“I can’t thank you enough for your help.” Lorna gave her a tight hug.
“I’m glad I could be of assistance.” She patted her back. “All right now, go on and get yourself ready for your new job.”
“I’ll see you later, Dee.” Lorna strode off down the road toward the outskirts of town where she’d taken a room in the home of the Reverend Tolson and his wife, Ilsa.
Alone again, Deidra waited for the passing buggy traffic before crossing Main Street to Graham General Goods. The general store, owned by the well-heeled Myers family, stocked a nice selection of dry goods, toiletries, tack, and other notions and supplies. Willard Myers also owned the Bank of Graham, so he even offered customers credit accounts for the purchase of goods in the store.
She moved through the gaggle of people congregating on the walk, past the outdoor display holding items marked down for quick sale, and pushed through the swinging door.
Inside, she was met with the din of several conversations in progress. She wasted no time getting to the toiletries section and picking up the rouge and perfume she favored. Her supplies were running low and even though she’d retired from whoring, she still wanted to look and smell good.
Before she could turn to go to the counter with her purchases, she felt someone’s finger pressing into the flesh of her back. “Well, well. If it isn’t Miss LaRue.”
She knew the voice and hearing it set her eyes to rolling. “Mr. Wilson, have you been following me? Haven’t you anything more important to attend to?” She made no effort to hide the annoyance in her tone.
The little man offered her a cold smile. “There’s still time to take me up on my offer, Miss LaRue.”
She placed the items she’d gathered in an empty spot on the shelf in case she needed her hands free to defend herself. “I already told you twice, Mr. Wilson. I’m not interested in working for you.”
He continued to press her, clamping his hand down on her forearm. “You’re pretty uppity for a darkie whore. Now when are you going to come to your senses and work for me?”
Red-hot anger bubbled up in her like a cauldron left too long on the fire. “Mr. Wilson, if you don’t take your nasty little hand off me, I’ll shoot you before you can scream.”
Wilson’s face went as white as snow, and he released her. His breath grew loud and raspy, as if he were struggling for air.
“Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.” She gathered her items from the shelf and turned on her heel. “Good day, Mr. Wilson.”
She strode away and didn’t bother to look back. She stopped by the counter long enough to pay for the things she’d picked up, then left the shop, doing her best to forget she’d ever seen the horrible little man.