Author: Allison K. Pittman
Category: Young Adult
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/allison-k-pittman/page,8,90458-ten_thousand_charms.html
“So, the little prince is up, eh?” Jewell said before taking a generous swig from her flask. “I don't wanna listen to him scream.”
Gloria scooped Danny up from his bed and held him to her shoulder, delighted at the way his face nuzzled into her neck.
“You know,” Jewell continued, a slight slur invading her speech, “I sure ain't gonna miss listenin’ to them kids wailin’ all hours.”
“Not much of a mother type, are you?” Sadie said.
“No more'n you are. I'm the mama to all my girls. That's enough for me.”
Gloria noticed a slight shudder from Biddy
Jewell leaned forward in her chair and pointed with her flask. “And from what I know, your mamas weren't no different from me.”
“You're not like my mother,” Biddy said quietly “You're not like her at all.”
“Well, listen, little missy,” Jewell said, “you're more than welcome to head on out and make a life on your own. Like our little friend here.”
Gloria held Danny closer. “Stop it, Jewell,” she said.
“But she really isn't on her own, is she? No ma'am. She's living every whore's dream.”
“And just what dream is that?” Sadie asked. “Getting stuck with some man's baby? Or getting hauled off to some God-forsaken wilderness to churn butter and watch crops shrivel in the sun?”
“I'm not going to churn butter," Gloria said, but neither woman acknowledged her.
“It's the dream,” Jewell said, leaning forward, “of some man comin’ along, sweepin’ you off your back, and takin’ you to be the little wife.”
“You are forgetting,” Sadie said, “that lots of us have been the little wife. I have been the little wife. It is not my dream.”
“It's my dream,” Biddy said. Jewell shot her a look that sent her skittering back into silence.
“If you must know,” Gloria said, standing to walk the newly restless Danny, “it isn't my dream, either. And it isn't his.”
“He is a good man,” Sadie said. “He will marry you. I know he will.”
“I don't want him to marry me. Besides, he won't because he's such a good man.”
Jewell let out a gasping expletive and settled back into her chair. “Just what is that supposed to mean?”
Gloria didn't know how to explain it. Every time John William came to visit, he prayed. Every time he held his daughter, a reverent calm came over him. He had a presence of strength and peace about him, making him so unlike any man she'd ever known. He had loved his wife. He loved his daughter. He had never shown Gloria any measure of disrespect, but treated her with such distanced politeness that she felt like a piece of furniture in the room. Other religious men made her feel dirty, unworthy John William just made her aware of all she was lacking in her life. He also made it clear that he had no interest in making her anything other that what she was.
“It means men like him don't marry women like me,” Gloria said.
“So’ you think you're just going to come crawlin’ back here again when this one's had enough of you?” Jewell gestured with her open flask. “Tell me, is that what happened with Danny's pa?”
“I came here,” Gloria said, “because I thought you'd be able to help me. Give me a place to stay until I figured things out. Well, I've figured things out and I'll be gone in the morning.”
“And just what,” Jewell said, staggering to her feet to confront the now pacing Gloria, “do I get out of this whole deal? Men been climbin’ the walls for you and I got to tell them, ‘Oh, no, she just had the baby. Give her time. Give her a few weeks.’ Well, it's over two months now, you eatin’ my food, takin’ up prime space, and tomorrow you go traipsin’ off with some man without earnin’ or payin’ me one red cent.”
The last of these words were spoken so close to Gloria's face that the sour smell of whiskey was overpowering. Danny balled up a little fist and was working up to a wail until Gloria switched him to the other shoulder to distance him from Jewell.
“She's earned her keep,” Sadie said. “She has done her share.”
“Of what." Jewell swung around to face Sadie, nearly losing her balance. “Of dishes? Washing? Servin’ drinks? She's givin’ this little one ideas that you can earn your place in my house without doin’ the very business my house is here for.”
Biddy cringed further into her chair, avoiding the hand that gestured so near her face.
“Look, Jewell,” Gloria said, “I gave you everything I—”
“Don't start with that, sweetie,” Jewell said. “I know what a piece like you goes for in the big towns, and I know you had to walk out of there with more than what you gave me.”
“I told you I—”
“And I get nothin’ in return. Nothin’ for givin’ up such a nice place for you and that little bas—”
“Don't call him that,” Biddy said. She stood and held her arms out for Gloria to hand the baby over to her. “He's a sweet little boy, and he's going to have a father.”
“Ah, yes," Jewell said. “The sainted John William MacGregan. Tell me, Gloria, how much of your little fortune did you promise to this man?”
“That's a terrible thing to say,” Sadie said, standing now, too. “MacGregan doesn't need her money”
“I don't have any money,” Gloria said. “Besides, I don't think he'd take it if I did.”
Jewell snorted. “Why, ain't it good enough for him?”
“I didn't say that.”
“Good Glory, girl,” Jewell said, her voice thick with exasperation. 'You're not good enough for him? Your money ain't good enough for him? What kind of saint do you think he is? Because I know a few things about this man, and he don't have much right to tell you—”
“Stop right there, Jewell.” Sadie placed herself between Jewell and Gloria. Biddy sat, quiet in her chair, shielding Danny from the confrontation.
“No, I got to say this, Sadie. 1 can put up with a lot of things, but I just can't stand a hypocrite.”
“He's not—”
Jewell threw up a hand to hush her. “This one,” she pointed to Biddy, “thinks a baby ain't illegitimate just because it's sweet. This one thinks that she ain't really a prostitute if she hides her cash and plays at bein’ a pioneer. You think a man can have himself a little family and make everyone forget that he's a—”
“Stop it, Jewell!”
“A what?” Gloria asked, concerned.
“Nothing," Sadie said, looking at Jewell intently Sadie faced her head on, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself to her full height, a full head taller than Jewell. As she spoke, she took step after step, forcing Jewell to back up to the door. “He's a good, honest, kind man. He'll be a kind, gentle, loving father.”
“I just think she should know,” Jewell said.
“Know what?” Gloria asked.
“Tell me, Jewell,” Sadie said, “is this the concerned mother coming out? Or is this just a bitter old woman who can't stand the thought of anybody being happy?”
By now, Jewell was up against the door. Sadie reached around behind her to grab the latch and push the door open.
“Get out,” she said.
“Gloria invited me. It's still her house tonight.”
“Jewell," Gloria said, “I'll be back. I'll make it up to you, everything that I owe you. I promise.”
“You just be careful,” Jewell said, straining to see around Sadie. “You just remember who you are and don't let anyone tell you different. He ain't no better than you, not by a mile.”
With that, she left, and Sadie shut the door. By now little Danny was beyond comfort, and Kate was beginning to stir.
“What did she mean?” Gloria asked, taking Danny away from Biddy and settling down to nurse.
“Nothing to concern yourself with.” Sadie crossed the room and took baby Kate into her arms. “I'm really going to miss this little one.”
“What aren't you telling me about MacGregan?”
“It's nothing you need to know. Listen, G
loria, he is a good man. You know that. But he isn't perfect. Nobody is.”
“Jewell seemed—”
“Jewell doesn't want you to be happy Jewell doesn't want you to leave. You can't trust her to tell you anything.”
“But I should trust you?”
“Tfust her,” Biddy said. “He might not be a husband, but he'll be a good father for your little one. Which is more important?”
Gloria looked down at the beautiful face of her.son, tugging hungrily at her breast. Right now she was all he needed, but she couldn't imagine what kind of man she could possibly groom him to be.
“Do I need to be afraid?” Gloria asked.
“Absolutely not.” Sadie knelt at Glorias feet. She laid baby Kate in her skirts and smiled down into the tiny Tace. “I would never let anyone hurt you. Or them.”
“Look," Biddy said, her voice excited. She was looking out the window “Ben Danglars is coming to visit.” She turned and smiled, flushed. “I think he fancies me.”
“Go talk to him," Sadie said, her voice full of affection for this young girl. “Just talk to him. Don't go upstairs.”
“What if he wants to go upstairs?”
“Most of these men are just lonely,” Sadie said. “They want someone to talk to just as much as anything. Talk to him.”
Biddy's face beamed a picture of excitement and relief. With more life than Gloria had ever seen in her, she skipped to the door.
“Wait, take that with you.” Gloria nodded her head toward the green dress with black velvet trim she had been wearing earlier in the evening. “You'll have to get Mae to cut it down a bit, but it's yours.”
Biddy ran over to hug Glorias neck and bent to kiss the baby Then, clutching her new treasure, she bounded from the room.
“Well, that's a fine thing,” Sadie said with mock reproach. “Maybe 1 wanted that dress.”
Gloria laughed at the idea of this burly woman trying to fit into her clothes. “I have a better present for you, Sadie. You can have my curtains.”
“Your curtains?” Sadie said, as if Gloria had promised her all the gold in California. “You would really give me such a treasure?”
Gloria smiled at the sarcasm. “Trust me. You'll get a lot more use out of them than you would any of my old dresses. Besides, they're very special to me. They were part of the last room 1 shared with my mother.”
“So, why don't you want to take them with you?”
“Because I don't want to take any part of that life with me.
Because I want them to be a gift. To you. Promise to take them down right after I leave. Don't let Jewell have them. Take them to your room and keep them for yourself. Will you promise me that?”
“I promise.”
The evening darkened steadily as Gloria sat, sometimes in conversation, sometimes in silence, with the only friend she'd ever had. Late in the night, Sadie left so Gloria could have a good night's rest. But Gloria did not sleep. Silent in the darkness, she moved about the tiny cabin getting her things together. She would take only the new outfits Mae had sewn for her; every other dress she owned she draped carefully over the room's two chairs. She opened the green case that had become her mother's legacy and prepared to fill it with her meager possessions. But, before she did, there was one final thing to do.
Working by moonlight, Gloria gently pried the fabric lining from inside the lid of the case. She groped around inside the opening; small notes crumpled in her hands. She counted them in the pale silver square of light that fell just below the window until she knew it was all there. One thousand dollars. Cash.
Carefully, making sure to keep her head clear of the window, Gloria used the tiny scissors of her sewing kit to snip the hem of the yellow sprigged curtains. Then, two by two, spread evenly to disguise any bulges, each note was tucked into the hem, and the hem meticulously re-stitched. It was the only feat of sewing Gloria had ever attempted. The kit itself had been a gift from Mae.
Satisfied, she fell across her bed into a restive, uneven sleep.
In just a few hours, moonlight became dawn, and John William MacGregan arrived, sitting high in a wagon driven by a strong team of horses.
He tipped his hat to her, and she knew he was a gentleman.
He showed her the space in the back of the wagon he had cleared for the babies’ makeshift beds, and she knew he would be a kind and loving father.
When Mae came bustling out of the house to bring Gloria the newly hemmed skirt, he sent her right back inside to wrap it in paper to protect it from any trail dust.
When Sadie and the other girls ceremoniously presented her with the calico bonnet and laughingly proclaimed her “Queen of the Oregon Trail,” he went down on one knee and cupped his hands to make a step for her to climb up into the wagon.
Gloria had never considered her feet to be small, but once John William's massive grip enveloped her foot, she had the distinct impression that if he were to apply even the slightest pressure, he could crush every bone. But she knew just as well that the. same strength could lift her, effortlessly, into this wagon and into a new life. When she looked at him for reassurance, his mischievous grin gave no indication which of the two he was more inclined to do.
Saints and angels, joined in concen,
Sing the praises of the Lamb;
While the blissful seats of heaven
Sweetly echo with his name.
ohn William woke up, amazed again that he'd been able to sleep at all. The previous night, with his body stretched to its full length on the makeshift bedroll, he swore he'd not see a minute's rest. The length of the oil-skinned tarp was barely six feet long, so he had to choose between subjecting his head or his heels to the damp of the bare ground. All of the bedding he'd brought from the cabin he shared with Katherine was inside the wagon serving as a comparatively luxurious bed for Gloria. He himself was covered with a coarse, small wool blanket that would not cover him completely if he lay flat on his back. When he did so, his shoulder blades rested on different levels, and a pebble lodged itself into the base of his spine. But the exhaustion of the day soon overtook him, and his physical discomfort was lost in waves of sleep.
Now, opening his eyes to the familiar gray just before dawn, he gingerly flexed his legs as if unfamiliar with their function. Then, just as he had for the past two weeks since leaving Silver Peak, he coaxed his limbs into doing his bidding and began to prepare for another day's journey. He rose slowly, working out the kinks and cramps as he stretched to his full height. He'd slept in the clothes he wore the day before, and now he stripped off his shirt and made his way to the stream they'd made camp next to. He knelt to splash his face with stinging cold water and scoop handfuls of it over his arms, chest, and back. He allowed the last of the night air to dry his body on the walk back to camp. Once there, he took a clean shirt from the satchel lashed to the side of the wagon and pressed an ear against the canvas to see if there was any stirring inside.
There were no sounds coming from within, save for the deep steady breathing of Gloria and the babies. He vaguely remembered hearing a few muted cries and whispers sometime during the night, but the depth of his fatigue kept him from rousing fully Gloria slept in a nest of quilts, Danny and Kate within an arm's reach. John William had never been invited into that sanctuary but every night he peeked in to see that they were settled comfortably.
Now he stood outside the canvas and whispered, “Gloria?”
No response. He cleared his throat and spoke again, a little louder.
“Gloria? Are you awake?”
When there was still no answer, he opened the flap at the back of the wagon and peered into the warm, dark space. He saw the tangled mass of blond curls just inches away and debated whether to reach in and nudge the shoulder hidden beneath it.
“Gloria. It's almost daylight and—”
“Shhh.” The sound was almost imperceptible.
“You need to—”
“Shhh!”
Now the blond mass was moving
as Gloria raised herself to one elbow and turned to look at John William. Her hair was loose and covered her face at such an angle that only one eye, barely blue in the dawning light, could be seen. He got just a glimpse of a bare, white shoulder and quickly turned away.
“If you say another word and wake up those babies I'll kill you,” Gloria said, no hint of humor to her whispered tone. “Danny just went back to sleep.”
“Those babies can sleep as long as they like,” John William said, “but the sun's near up and we got to get breakfast and hit the trail before the day's gone.”
“I don't cook, remember?” Gloria said, burrowing into her nest.
“Maybe you don't cook it,” John William said, “but you sure do eat it and you sure will clean up the mess, so you best get yourself out here before I start bangin’ the skillet till those babies holler.”
He dropped the tent flap, wishing he had a door to slam, and wondered, as he had just about every day since that first morning when Gloria climbed up on the wagon seat with her little green case, just how his life had taken this turn.
He strode to the front of the wagon, hauled the cook box off the front seat, and rummaged through it. There were biscuits left from last night's supper wrapped in the blue tea towels that had been a wedding gift from Katherine's sister, a few slices of salt pork, and three eggs. This meal would just about exhaust their food supply, leaving just a few apples and a hefty wedge of cheese for lunch. He fully expected to make Fort Bridger before sundown.
The coffee was simmering on the little cookstove on the campfire when Gloria emerged from the wagon. Her hair was pulled back in a single loose braid that dangled to the small of her back. She wore a white cotton chemise, loosely laced, with a heavy green shawl draped over her shoulders. Her eyes were still half-closed, and her steps unsteady She took a tin cup from the hook where it dangled, drying after last night's washing.
“Coffee,” she mumbled.
John William answered with a rough gesture toward the pot. Gloria remained, immobile, holding her cup in front of her. After a moment, she gave up, huffed, and reached for the pot herself.
“Use a towel,” John William said. Burning her fingers on the coffeepot handle had become an almost daily ritual.