22

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1906

When Hattie awoke the next morning, she regretted every word she had uttered the night before. What had possessed her? Sure, Nell had been extremely nice to her last night. But was Hattie so starved for affection she just offered a weapon with the power to destroy her to the first person with a kind word? What have I done?

She’d already dressed and was fumbling with her hairbrush when Nell came up behind her. “Your hair is incredibly lovely,” she said. “It looks so alive. May I brush it?”

Hattie handed over the hairbrush warily. “If you want.”

Nell placed one palm on the crown of Hattie’s head and stroked the brush firmly through the unruly mass. It crackled as tight curls, pulled through the bristles, leaped into full, deep waves. “It even feels alive,” Nell said in amazement. Noticing how stiffly Hattie sat beneath her ministrations, Nell paused in the middle of a stroke, the bristles buried in the abundant curls. “You’re sorry you talked to me last night, aren’t you?”

Hattie shot her a wary glance over her shoulder and Nell swallowed a sigh as she completed the brushstroke. “You needn’t be, you know. I’d like to be your friend and I shan’t ever repeat anything you tell me. I know what it’s like to be different, Hattie. I’ve been five foot ten since I was twelve years old, and my family is what is known as the genteel poor.”

“But you’re beautiful!” Hattie twisted around to stare up at her roommate in amazement. It had never occurred to her that Nell, too, might suffer from self-doubt.

Nell smiled with delight. “Do you think so? I’ve been as tall as or taller than practically every man I have ever met for as long as I can remember. Do you honestly think I’m pretty?”

“Not pretty, Nell, beautiful. I think your height is elegant. It’s better than being a dumpling like me with too much bosom and hip. And my face is all eyes and mouth.” She grimaced.

“You underestimate yourself considerably,” Nell disagreed. “If we stood side by side at a cotillion, you would be the one with the full dance card. I’d be the beanpole wallflower in the corner.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hattie said and laughed. It was the first time she’d done so in a very long time and it felt marvelous.

“It happens to me all the time. Only the tallest men dare dance with me. And if none are available, I either sit with the matrons or suffer through mercy dances with men whose wives badger them into it when it becomes obvious no one else is going to.” She completed brushing Hattie’s hair and deftly twisted it into place, anchoring it with hairpins.

“Well, that’s just incomprehensible,” Hattie said, standing up and leaning forward to admire Nell’s handiwork in the spotted mirror above her dresser. “Imagine anyone passing up someone as exquisitely beautiful as you simply because you stand eyeball to eyeball with him. Men are such fools. Maybe I should introduce you to Moses. He’s huge.”

“Your erstwhile friend? No, thank you. It seems to me if he had been there when you needed him, your Jake never would have sent you to Mr. Lord’s house.”

“He’s not my Jake, and as far as I’m concerned he is solely to blame for sending me there. I don’t care what he said his reasons were. They were ludicrous—Jake never would have hurt me. But he was so bound and determined to follow his own course he ignored every attempt I made to tell him how nervous Roger made me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for that.” She looked at Nell over her shoulder. “Don’t blame Moses, Nell—I certainly don’t. My immodesty was responsible for ruining our friendship.”

“Well, it sounds to me as if he took full advantage of your immodesty and when he was through enjoying it, he cast you aside.” Nell found Jake’s attempt to save Hattie’s virtue from his ravening lust rather romantic—sort of like star-crossed lovers from a Shakespearean play. But for a friend to turn his back on her in her time of need . . . that was unforgivable.

Hattie rather thought Nell was being overly hard on a person she’d never even met. But because Hattie was awed that this woman genuinely sought her friendship, an act so unique and lovely it wrapped Hattie in an unaccustomed blanket of warmth, she let it go.

That morning was the beginning of a healing period for her. Being in an environment where no one had preconceived notions of her was a revelation. Her friendship with Nell grew deeper every day, and there was something liberating about confiding her thoughts to a female her own age. She could tell Nell anything and be understood in a way she’d never been before. Even with Moses, whom Hattie loved like a brother, certain subjects were taboo. With Nell, there were none. When she said as much, however, Nell merely sniffed. She persisted in holding a grudge against Moses.

To Hattie’s further amazement, she discovered she was regarded as a leader. She and Nell were the oldest students and the best educated. Studies came easily to them, and socially, they were of the “first water,” as one student constantly commented. Soon the younger girls were coming to them for help with their schoolwork or to solicit advice on clothing, manners, and etiquette. Being held in high regard was a first for Hattie—one she found seductive.

Free time at the normal school was limited. Students were only allowed to leave during daylight hours, in well-chaperoned groups. But Nell had been raised in the upper strata of Seattle society, and although her father’s earning capability died with him, spelling the demise of most of her family’s wealth, the association still carried weight with the school’s matron. Nell’s family might be considered poor by their former standards, but they were still on society’s fringe. Because of it, occasionally Nell gained permission for herself and Hattie to spend the weekend with her mother and sister.

Mostly, they spent their weekend quietly visiting with Nell’s mother, a soft-spoken woman baffled by her newly demoted position in society, and her sister, Lizzy, who was as tall and as beautiful as Nell and cheerfully determined to marry a rich man. They clearly loved Nell even if they didn’t understand her desire to make her own way. Hattie, who understood perfectly, enjoyed spending time with them.

Hattie’s two years in Seattle passed rapidly. The memory of her violation at Roger Lord’s hands was an easily aroused specter, but she learned to relegate it to the back of her mind, and its impact faded over time. Doggedly avoiding going home during holiday and summer breaks helped. Except for Nell, no one here knew what had happened to her, and it was amazing how much being unreservedly admired and respected bolstered her sense of self-worth. Her confidence grew daily.

Nell taught her tricks to help her stop and consider her words and actions instead of reacting with rash thoughtlessness. They became valuable tools she tried to practice daily. To Hattie’s pleasure, although she occasionally backslid, her skills continued to grow.

In return, when she saw Nell did indeed grow quiet and diffident around men, stifling her sense of humor as she tried to blend into the woodwork, she taught her friend the art of light flirtation. There weren’t many opportunities for Nell to practice her budding wiles, but twice last summer they’d gone to the dance pavilions on Alki Point. Almost ten months later, Nell was still talking about her success in gratified amazement.

Seven weeks ahead of graduation, before she had a chance to send out her first application, Hattie received an offer of employment from the Mattawa school board. She was stunned. And quite positive Aunt Augusta had something to do with it.

“Are you going to accept?” Nell asked after reading the letter Hattie handed her.

Hattie’s first inclination was to reject the offer out of hand. “Why should I?” she demanded. “Until I left Mattawa I never realized people could actually like me or that other girls my age might actually look up to me. Why subject myself to more of Mattawa’s character assassination when I can go somewhere I won’t be prejudged before I even set foot in town?”

“Because you miss your home?” Nell suggested gently. “Because you’re lonely for your aunt and Moses and Doc and Mirabel, and even Jake? Because letters from home and spending your holidays with my family haven’t been enough?”

Nell sat next to Hattie on the bed. “Aren’t you the one who’s complained for the past two years that you can’t hire a decent mount in this town? That you’re tired of riding streetcars and long to race the wind on your horse, Belle?”

It was true. For all Mattawa’s faults, it was still her home and she missed it.

Yet, it wasn’t that simple. “I don’t know if I can face Jake, Nell. Or Roger Lord.”

“I know. In a town the size of yours, I imagine it’s inevitable you will run into Lord sooner or later. But why wouldn’t you be able to face Jake? I thought you’d finally forgiven him.”

“Sometimes I think I have. But other times . . .” It had taken her nearly the full two years here to reach an uneasy peace with her feelings for Jake. She resented him bitterly when recollections of her violation exploded past her guard. Yet, with the newly adult part of herself, she tried to put herself in his place and understand his reasons.

Plus, she couldn’t forget that night in her room and the way Jake had made her feel. Yes, he was responsible for sending her to Roger Lord. Conversely, he was also responsible for her knowing what Roger did to her was not the way the private act between a man and a woman was supposed to be. “I can’t decide this immediately,” she finally said, looking down at the letter in her hand. “I need to give it some thought.”

The next day, Hattie was in their room when Nell entered. She looked up to greet her and was struck by the strange expression on her friend’s face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. It’s just . . .” Nell’s voice trailed away. “Hattie, have you reached a decision about taking the teaching position in Mattawa?”

“I keep bouncing between being sure I wanna go home and equally sure I don’t. Why?”

Nell pulled a letter from her skirt pocket and handed it Hattie. Perusing it swiftly, Hattie felt her jaw sag. Snapping her teeth together, she looked up at Nell. “They’re offering you a position, too.” She handed Nell the letter. “This has to be Aunt Augusta’s doing. She knows how much you’ve come to mean to me.” Reaching out, she grasped her friend’s hand. “Oh, Nell, not to have to go our separate ways.”

And so it was decided. Hattie might have been able to ignore the lure of home, but she was utterly helpless in the face of the opportunity to keep her friend with her. Hattie and Nell wrote the Mattawa school board that evening, accepting the positions.

She was going home.