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Bertha grasped the stair railing as she climbed to Daniel Iverson’s second-floor office and stopped halfway up to catch her breath. She given herself two days to go through James’ papers, those he’d left behind anyway, which didn’t amount to anything more than the accounts she’d given him on her travels. When she opened the door to his office, Daniel came from behind a curtain, pulling it closed, but not before she spotted a bed. Did he live in his office?
“Please have a seat, Mrs. Woods.” He swept a hand at a wooden chair before taking a seat behind his desk.
“Please, call me Bertha.” She cringed when the small chair creaked beneath her weight. She fiddled with the straps of the reticule sitting on her lap and wiggled in the too small chair. It had taken a few minutes to catch her breath after climbing the stairs to his office. “I want to divorce James.” No sense in beating around the bush.
Daniel sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Bertha. You know how hard it is to get a divorce?”
“I perfectly aware of that and the stigma associated with it.” She leaned toward the desk. “I will not remain married to a man who’s done the things James has. I want to divorce him.”
“Mrs. . . . Bertha. I understand how you feel.”
“How in heaven’s name can you possibly know how I feel?” She nearly screeched the words. “Why, you’re not even married.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that. I can understand why you’d want to divorce him but getting a divorce is difficult and, in most cases, illegal.”
“Illegal?” She narrowed her eyes at him. He had to be mistaken. “How can it be illegal?”
“Were you married in a church?”
The bright yellow flower on her black hat flopped over an eye. She pushed it back. “Of course, we were married in a church.”
“It is considered illegal because you both made promises before God. Breaking those promises would forsake Him.” He paused for a second to look at a piece of paper on his desk. “How long have you lived in the Dakota Territory?
“About two and half months.”
Daniel shook his head. “Then I’m afraid you can’t file for divorce.”
Her eyes burned from unshed tears. “But, why?”
“A law in the Dakota Territory went into effect two years ago stating that a petitioner for divorce must live in the territory for three months.”
Bertha pressed trembling fingers to her lips. “Oh, dear. That means I’d have to stay here at least until the early part of September.” She’d decided last night to leave as soon as possible, but hadn’t decided where, yet.
“That’s correct. Plus, it’s harder for a woman to divorce her husband than a husband to petition for divorce against his wife.”
“Can I sell the furniture and house?”
Daniel flipped through some papers. “The sheriff and I have been doing some checking into your husband’s affairs. Besides bilking people out of their money, what he was doing or planning to do with the money is unknown. He’s not talking. We’ve found out he doesn’t own the house you live in and he’s behind in rent.”
That didn’t make sense. “But he said he bought it.”
“From what we can tell Woods said a lot of things to a lot of people.”
Bertha sat back in the chair. Maybe if it did fall apart, she’d break her neck in the process and wouldn’t have to worry about her future. “What am I supposed to do?”
Daniel shook his head. “You can try to sell what you can, but most people who have money already have furnishings they want. I’ve been in contact with the owner of the property. He’ll allow you to live in the house if you can come up with the back rent and pay a few months ahead.”
“How . . . how much would I have to come up with?”
“The rent was twenty dollars a month. He was five months behind. So, with paying at least two months ahead, you’d have to produce one hundred and forty dollars.”
One hundred and forty dollars? Where was she going to come with that much money? What if she used the cash she took from Moira? There was plenty there. She mentally shook her head. She was certain he’d come by the money illegally and wouldn’t use that money for herself. She opened her reticule.
“Here.” She placed the cash on his desk.
“Is that enough to get caught up?”
“What? No. I believe this is more of the money James took from others. I want to turn it in.”
Daniel frowned. “You what?”
“I need to turn in this money.”
“Why not use it for the rent?” He picked the cash up and counted it. “There’s more than three hundred dollars here. You’d have more than enough to cover what is owed and plenty left over to live on.”
Bertha shook her head. “I can’t. It belongs to other people. Besides, I have some money set aside from work I did before I came here.” Okay, so she wasn’t perfect. There were one hundred and seventy-two coins at the house. “I have enough to pay the owner for rent.”
Daniel shook his head. “Not many people would return this money.” He opened a desk drawer, took out an envelope, and stuffed the money inside. “I’ll make sure the sheriff gets this.” He folded his hands on the desk. “Now, about the divorce.”
“I guess I’ll have to wait. I wanted to go back to Minnesota, but I’ll have to stay in Deadwood a bit longer. I have enough for the rent, but not enough to pay for a stagecoach ticket.”
“You don’t have to stay in Deadwood, just in the Dakota Territory.” He toyed with the envelope’s flap. “I must say, Bertha. From what I’ve heard about you and your husband, I’m surprised you’re doing this. I expected . . .”
“I’m perfectly aware of what people think of me. And after what James did, I’m sure they’ll blame me, too, even though I had nothing to do with it. So, what did you expect?”
Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t to turn in this money.” He touched the envelope. “I’d rather figured you’d sell what you could and hightail it out of town.”
“Well, it was tempting.” She stood, pleased the young lawyer was a gentleman enough to rise right away. “I’ll bring the rent money over this afternoon.”
“I’m not sure how you managed to get through the crowded and muddy streets without being accosted, but I’d hate to find out you were approached by some reprobate when I could have escorted you home.” He opened the door for her. “Why don’t I walk with you, and you can give me the money at your house.”
“I would appreciate that.” Her walk to Daniel’s office hadn’t been pleasant. A few people jeered at her. Some stepped out of her way as if she were one of the ladies of the evening. Having Daniel at her side would hopefully help.
****
Bertha unlocked the front door. “Please come in, Daniel.” She pointed to the parlor across the hall from James’ office. “Have a seat, and I’ll be right back with the money.”
Lifting her skirts, she trudged up the stairs to her room, opened the closet door, and removed a boot holding the coins. Even after having had the locks changed, she didn’t trust Moira to not pick the locks and search for the money. She dumped the coins on her bed and counted out what she needed. The pitiful amount left was going to have to do until she could get a job somewhere. Both James and her mother would be appalled if they knew she was going to have to work to support herself.
As she went down the stairs, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. After the way she’d treated people as if they were beneath her, who would hire her? Maybe it would be best if she went to Lead where no one knew her. She would have to brush up on her cooking skills and maybe get a job in a restaurant. She entered the parlor. “Here you go.” She dropped the coins into Daniel’s hand. “Back rent plus the two months.”
“I’ll make sure the owner gets this.” He tipped his hat. “I’ll take my leave.”
Bertha frowned at him. “Um, before you go, I have something I need to mention to you.”
Halfway through the doorway, he stopped and smiled. “And what would that be? I’d be happy to help you with anything.”
“Well, it’s probably none of my business, but I couldn’t help notice your friend, King, is spending time with the new school marm.” She raised her chin and looked down her nose at him. “I hope they realize she’d be breaking her contract if the school board should get wind of it. They’d best be careful. I’d hate to be the one to report her.”
Daniel’s smile slipped and he sneered at her. “You’re right. It is none of your business. And I just bet you’d hate to report her. Good day, Mrs. Woods.” Without another word, he left the room and slammed the front door behind him.
Bertha dropped onto a fainting couch. Now why had she gone and said that? By the tone in his voice, he’d disapproved. Why couldn’t she keep her big mouth shut? How hard was it going to be to break the habit of being such a mean old witch? She removed a handkerchief from the front of her dress and dabbed at tears pooling in her eyes. How did one get rid of twenty years of acting like the harridan wife of a rich banker?