No Other Will Do (Ladies of Harper's Station #1)(18)
“He owns a store and can certainly provide for me right and proper, but he’s far short o’ kind. The minute I stepped off the train, he acted like he owned me. Started goin’ over me duties as soon as we walked into the store. What I was to clean, when he expected supper, how I should address customers. It was insultin’. He left me feelin’ like he’d just hired a housekeeper and clerk without benefit of wages. And then he had the cheek to show me the bedroom and brag about how quickly he got a bairn on his last wife, and how the woman had failed him by dyin’ during the birthin’ and takin’ the babe with her. As if the poor woman had stolen his child from him apurpose. Then he laid his hands upon me hips and measured me with his eyes. He pronounced me a skinny twig but said me hips were wide enough to birth him the sons he wanted.”
Emma’s jaw grew rigid. “The bounder! What a despicable way to welcome a mail-order bride. Has the man never heard of wooing?”
“He didn’t think wooin’ was necessary,” Claire said. “Not since he bought me.”
Bristling, Emma stiffened her spine. “Mr. Lincoln outlawed slavery in these great United States thirty years ago. That man did not buy you.”
“That’s what I told him.” Claire jutted out her chin, her eyes sparking with the first hint of spirit Emma had seen. “He tried to march me to the parson’s house straightaway, without even giving me time to catch a breath or wash the trail dirt from me face, but I put me feet down. I told him I wouldn’t say the words afore God, not until we’d had a few days to get to know each other.”
Victoria nodded her approval. “Good for you.”
Claire wilted. “He refused to spend the coin to put me up in a boardinghouse. Said I already belonged to him—that I’d signed a betrothal agreement. Threatened to bring me up on charges of breach of contract unless I either married him or paid him back for the train fare he forked out to bring me here. I told him I’d find work and pay him back, but I owe seventy-five dollars. It’s a fortune, it is. And no one in Seymour would hire me. I spent all day yesterday askin’.”
Claire reached out to Tori and clasped her hand as well. “You’re my last chance, ladies. Mrs. Baker, the dressmaker, told me about Harper’s Station, said I could find work here, maybe even a loan to pay off me debt and gain me freedom. If you turn me away, I’ll be left with no choice.” Her voice trembled as she twisted her head to entreat both of her prospective saviors. “I’ll have to marry Stanley Fischer.”
A jolt of shock shot through Emma. “Stanley Fischer . . . of Fischer’s Emporium?”
“Aye.” Claire’s brow furrowed. “Do ye know him?”
He was only their most significant account. Having the largest dry goods store in Seymour, he took all the fresh eggs and vegetables they could sell. He stocked their canned goods, as well, eager to save on the cost of shipping items from more distant manufacturers.
Mr. Fischer had made it plain on several occasions that he disapproved of the women’s colony. Called it unnatural, accused her ladies of being man-haters and defilers of God’s design for woman to be man’s helpmeet. Yet even as he spewed such vile sentiment, he recognized the quality of their goods and the fairness of their price. So in true hypocritical fashion, he accepted their business and turned a tidy profit in the process.
“We are acquainted with Mr. Fischer, yes.” Emma shared a look with Tori. They both knew that if they took Claire in, Mr. Fischer would likely retaliate. He was in a position to strike a deadly blow to the financial solvency of their community, and he was just spiteful enough to do so.
What should she do? If she gave Claire the loan, it might mean dozens of other ladies would default on their own payments. But how could she turn her back on such a young girl, alone in the world? Such an action went against everything she believed in. But did the good of one outweigh the good of many?
“Tori?” Emma asked the silent question she knew her friend would be weighing in her own mind. Victoria had the most to lose if they took Claire in. She relied on Fischer’s business to keep her own afloat.
Victoria only hesitated a moment before dipping her chin in a small nod. “We cannot send her back to him, Emma. No one deserves such treatment. We’ll find new outlets.”
Claire turned from one to the other, confusion lining her face. “What outlets? Does Stanley Fischer hold sway over you, too? He warned me that I’d not find haven with you, but I thought he was just blowing wind.” She bit her lip and let go of the hands she held. She bowed her head and buried her hands in her lap.
“Ease yourself, Claire.” Emma smiled, patting the young woman’s knee. “No man holds sway in Harper’s Station. We are independent women here. Hardworking women. Women who aid one another when a sister is in need. Mr. Fischer buys some of the goods we produce, but we are not fully dependent upon his business. There are other avenues we can explore.” She pushed to her feet and tugged on the hem of her jacket. “Now, if I am to give you a loan to repay the fare Mr. Fischer purchased on your behalf, and if we accept you into our community, there are some stipulations you must agree to.”
Claire jumped to her feet like a soldier reporting for duty. “Anything, Miss Chandler.”
Emma schooled her features into her serious, banker mien. “You must work among us in a capacity that suits your skills, thereby allowing you to make reasonable payments on your loan at the end of each month, and you must abide by the rules of the colony.”