Josephine slipped out of bed, being careful not to awaken Frieda. She took her clothes into the main part of the railcar and got dressed as best she could without help. She was in such a hurry that she shunned her corset completely and fastened as many buttons as she could on the back of her dress. She swept her hair into a quick twist and secured it with a few pins, then donned her short cape—which thankfully hid the undone buttons.
The sun was just beginning to rise as she left the railcar and hurried to Papa’s office. She found him just sitting down to his desk.
“Josephine. What’s got you up so early?”
She had decided to say it straight out. “Nelly.”
It took him a moment to comprehend. Then he said, “I told you I’d look into it.”
“Would—would today be a good day for that?”
He took the top page from a stack. “Not today.”
“But—”
He pointed to piles of papers. “All of these railroad problems need to be handled immediately. I have hundreds of men awaiting my direction.” He pointed toward the west. “Out west where the surveying crews are working, a hundred Sioux raided the camp and stole all their horses and mules.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Not this time. They just wanted the animals. But earlier this spring they attacked a work train and killed three workers. The Indians are a constant threat. The issue of Nelly will have to wait.” He rubbed his eyes. “In fact, I’m having second thoughts about your even being here.”
“But Papa, I’m fine. I am here with you. I am safe with you.”
“Perhaps. But you see why I don’t have time for one girl? Please remember that patience is a virtue.”
Patience was a virtue. One she did not own.
Back at the railcar, Frieda was still asleep, clearly enjoying having the bed to herself. Josephine hated to wake her, but . . .
She gently jostled the bed. When she got no response, she did it harder. And harder.
Finally, “Get up!”
Frieda sat upright, panicked. “What’s wrong? What time is it?”
Negotiating the limited space in the tiny sleeping area, Josephine plucked a brown calico from a hook and tossed it on the bed. “Plenty is wrong, and it is time to fix it.”
Frieda rubbed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Get dressed.”
While Frieda dressed, Albert brought them breakfast. Josephine took a few bites of dry toast. A few minutes later, Frieda emerged, still pinning her hair into a bun. “Oh good. Breakfast.”
“We can eat later.”
Frieda lifted the lid on a serving bowl of oatmeal. “It will be a leaden lump later.”
“So be it.” Josephine handed her a hat. “We need to go now, catch them unawares.”
“Catch who?”
Josephine tied her own hat beneath her chin and strode toward the door. “The ladies at Miss Mandy’s.”
Frieda grabbed a fistful of skirt and yanked her back. “Oh no, you don’t.”
Josephine pulled herself free. “Oh yes, I do. Just this very morning Papa said he didn’t have time to deal with Nelly. But I can’t wait for when he has time. I can’t go about my day with that little girl being mistreated a stone’s throw away. God won’t let me.”
“That’s all well and good, though I don’t presume to know what God wants you to do at this very moment. But the Almighty repeatedly tells us to be wise. This is not wise. It’s impulsive.”
“But it’s right. It is on the side of good. There is nothing good about that girl being brought up in a brothel.”
“I agree with you.” Frieda took her hand and led her back to the chairs. “Sit.”
“But—”
“Indulge me.”
Josephine sat, hating that her zeal was being squelched.
Frieda spooned the oatmeal into two bowls. “We will eat and be fortified.”
“But I don’t want to eat.”
“We will eat.” Frieda pushed the bowl in front of her and handed her a spoon.
She reluctantly took it and started to take a bite.
But Frieda stopped her with a hand. “But first, we will pray for God’s direction and protection. You want both, don’t you?”
She hadn’t thought about it until now. “I suppose I do.”
“I suppose you do.” Frieda bowed her head and began to pray aloud. “Let us be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. Help us put on the whole armor of God, that we may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. . . .”
Josephine hated to admit it, but Frieda was right. They needed God’s help in this.
Josephine stood near Miss Mandy’s and put a hand to her churning stomach. “I shouldn’t have eaten.”
Frieda put a hand to her own midsection. “Remember, we’ve put on the breastplate of righteousness—for Nelly.”
Her words were strong, but Josephine could tell she was nervous too. The workers were in the rail yard, but people in town were stirring. It was best to do it now, before they risked too much of an audience.
Josephine took Frieda’s hand and stopped before the front door-flap of the brothel. If she knocked on the wooden frame, would they answer? She didn’t dare just go in. Who knew what they might see.
And so, she knocked, then cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me? Ladies? Anyone?”
She heard voices and shuffling inside, then someone said, “Whatcha want?”
“If I may speak to . . . to Miss Mandy, please?”
There were some half-asleep voices, then a middle-aged woman pulled open the flap. Underneath the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she wore a chemise and pantaloons. She squinted at the full sunlight. “Well, if it ain’t the general’s daughter. Bored so soon? Lookin’ for some diversion? I could keep ya real busy.”
Frieda stepped between Josephine and the madam. “You watch what you say. You are speaking to a lady.”
“Beggin’ yer pardon I’m sure.” She dug sand out of one eye, then glared at Josephine. “Enough of this chitchat. You woke us up. What do you want?”
“Nelly.”
Her painted eyebrows rose, and Josephine noticed one was drawn higher than the other. And they were smudged. “How do you know Nelly?”
“I don’t know her. I just saw her at the store the other day, and . . . and I want her to come with me.”
“Just like that? You ask and I’m supposed to hand Nelly over?”
“She will be safe with me.”
Mandy looked up and down the street. “Looks like she’s safe with me.”
A man stepped out of the saloon across the street. “What’s up, Mandy?”
“Seems I’m in the presence of a real, live do-gooder.”
He put his hands on the small of his back and arched it. “I hates do-gooders.”
“They’re not my favorites neither,” Mandy said. She looked directly at Josephine. “You’ve come and made your case, now go back where you belong.”
“And don’t forget your teacup,” a female said from inside, which, of course, elicited giggles.
Frieda tugged on her sleeve and whispered, “Come on, Liebchen.”
“Yes, go on, Liebchen,” Mandy said, shooing her away with her hands. “Leave us women alone.”
But then Josephine saw Nelly through the opened doorway. She was standing there with a pile of clothes in her hands. Without thinking twice, Josephine pushed past Mandy, grabbed Nelly’s arm, and pulled her out to the street.
“Hey!” Nelly said, dropping the clothes.
Mandy tried to grab her back, but Josephine drew the girl close, wrapping her arms around her torso. Once again, Frieda stepped between. “Let her come with us. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Letting you steal Nelly is the right thing? How’s that the right thing?”
The saloonkeeper came over, along with a dozen other men who’d heard the commotion. Added to that were six of Mandy’s girls. . . .
Mandy took advantage of the audience. “She’s trying to steal Nelly from us!”
“Stealing ain’t right,” said a man. “Not even if you’s the general’s daughter.”
Others shouted their agreement.
Josephine was in trouble. Big trouble. Breastplate? Armor? God? Where are You? “I am not stealing. I just think the girl would be better off with me, with us.”
“She belongs at Mandy’s.”
That got her ire up. “She most certainly does not!” Josephine scanned the crowd. “You should be ashamed of yourselves. She is a little girl. She does not deserve . . . that.”
Suddenly, Josephine saw Hudson Maguire make his way through the crowd. He stood close and addressed them. “Hold on, now. I’m sure this can be rectified to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“I don’t know how,” Mandy said. “Miss Priss here is interfering with business. We need Nelly.”
The other women nodded, a few winked at Nelly, and one waved.
Nelly waved back.
Hudson pressed his hands downward, quieting the crowd. “Come on, Mandy. What kind of compensation will you need to let Nelly go with Miss Cain?”
Mandy’s objections seemed to lessen with the mention of money. “I dunno . . . she’s worth a lot to all of us.”
Josephine shuddered at her words.
Hudson reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out some coins. He placed them in her hand. “That enough?”
She quickly palmed them. “Almost . . .”
He pulled out a few more. And with that, the deal was done. Mandy’s women retreated into the tent, and the crowd moved along.
Nelly looked up at Josephine. “I’m yours now?”
Josephine hated her wording, but she would clarify the situation later. She put a finger to her lips, then called out, “Miss Mandy? One more thing, please?”
The woman appeared at the flap. “Yes, your highness?”
“Would someone please gather up Nelly’s belongings?”
Mandy shook her head. “We’ll bring ’em over later.”
“Now, please.”
Mandy put her hands on her hips. “I gotta give you credit, Priss. You got gumption. Hang on.”
“I don’t have much,” Nelly said.
“But you deserve to keep what you do have.”
A minute later, another woman with jet-black hair came out with a small pile of crumpled clothes and a blanket. She pressed the pile into Frieda’s arms, then touched Nelly’s cheek. “You be okay, Nell?”
“I think so.”
The woman thrust a finger in Josephine’s face. “You take care of her, or the whole lot of us will make you regret it.”
As if they had been taking care of her? But Josephine nodded.
When they walked back to the railcar, Josephine felt prickles go up and down her spine, as if any minute someone would rush after them.
It helped that Hudson came along.
“I have to thank you for your help, Mr. Maguire. And for your expense. I will see that you are reimbursed.”
“I don’t want your father’s money.”
Josephine felt herself redden, for any repayment would come from Papa.
As they reached their railcar, Frieda showed Nelly the view from the back platform of the train. It gave Hudson and Josephine a moment alone. “Now that you have her, what are you going to do with her?”
“I . . . I have no idea.”
“Good intentions are sometimes costly.”
“I said I would pay you back.”
“I wasn’t talking about money.” He tipped his hat and walked away.
Josephine didn’t have time for second thoughts, as Frieda said, “Come on, Josephine. Nelly wants to see inside, and I promised her some breakfast.”
Nelly declared their railcar “fancy,” though actually, it wasn’t. Yet compared to a ramshackle structure made of canvas and scrap wood . . .
As the girl ate the rest of the breakfast food, Josephine and Frieda talked.
“Where is she going to sleep?” Frieda asked.
There was little extra space in their railcar, which already slept two adults.
“She will have to sleep out here on the sofa,” Josephine said.
Nelly rose from the table and headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to pee.”
“In here, girl,” Frieda said, leading her to the washroom. “And we don’t say ‘pee.’”
“Whatcha call it then?”
“We talk about it as little as possible and if we must, we ask to use the facilities.”
“That’s an awfully fancy word for pee.”
Frieda showed her the covered commode, shut the door on her, and leaned against it. “What are you going to tell your father?”
“I have no idea.”
Josephine and Frieda sat outside, watching Nelly pick spring wildflowers. Josephine spotted some men riding toward the river. She recognized the brown coat and hat of Hudson Maguire. “I wonder where they are going.”
Frieda fanned herself. The ostrich-feather fan looked ridiculous considering their location, but in their haste to leave, it was the only one Josephine had brought along.
Frieda tapped the closed fan on Josephine’s arm. “He’s gone now,” she said. “You can quit ogling him.”
“I am not ogling him. Or anyone.”
“Whatever you say.”
Had she looked at him longer than necessary? What was there about Hudson Maguire that captured her interest—besides the obvious?
Josephine wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The spring sun felt wonderful, but the air was still cool. “We owe him so much. If it weren’t for his intervening this morning, Nelly would not be with us.”
Frieda shook her head. “So having Nelly is a good thing?”
“Of course it is. We saved her from a horrible fate.”
“Keep telling yourself that—until your father gets home.”
“It is the truth I am going to stress when I talk to him.”
Frieda looked up at the sun. “Which will be soon. It’s nearly noon.”
“Good. Because I’m famished.” Josephine took a deep breath. God, please help this go well.
As if summoned, they saw Albert approach with their meal.
The hitch in her stomach propelled her to stand. “Nelly, come on back. It is time for lunch.”
Nelly came running. “We get to eat again?” She handed Josephine her wildflower bouquet.
“They are very pretty.”
“But look at you, girl,” Frieda said, brushing off Nelly’s skirt. “Dirt all over you.” She turned over Nelly’s hands. “You need to wash up and make yourself presentable. The general will be home soon.”
Josephine lost her appetite.