19 Warehouse

A SOLITARY BRASS BELL rang when we entered the shop. I had no idea where we were but it seemed like a city, so I assumed Omaha. I should have studied maps of that.

“We gon’ have some good fun with you now that your Ma and Pap are gone,” a young man said to the woman at the counter. Theresa! “You just relax and let me get my hands into this tight little bosom of yours.” He was behind the counter with her and had a hand on her blouse, working to open it.

“Let me go, you spurious cur!” Theresa cried.

I feel you, Demon Ramie. You are here. Please help me.

“We’re closed! Get out of the shop,” the fellow yelled at me. “This don’t concern you.”

I reached for the Colt Navy to find nothing at Miranda’s hip.

They can’t be worn in the city.

I lifted her foot and pulled the knife from her boot. Miranda quickly resigned complete control to me.

“The young woman said to let her go. Do so at once,” I growled. I’d almost forgotten how gravelly Miranda’s voice was. It no longer hurt as badly, but the beautiful musicality of her voice was gone forever.

“None o’ yer affair! This tart been teasin’ the help ever since she got here. Now she’s gonna pay.” Theresa squirmed and bit his hand. He reached across and slapped her face. That was all. I took two steps and leapt the counter. He pushed Theresa away and turned to swing at me. He hadn’t noticed I had a knife until I blocked his punch with it. One of his fingers fell to the floor with the impact as he drove the back of the blade into my forearm. He screamed and fell back holding his hand.

“A man who hits a lady deserves to have no hands,” I said as I advanced on him with the knife.

“I’ll kill you!” he yelled. But he was backing up and ran around the counter and out the door. At the last possible instant, Katie stuck out her foot and tripped him on the way out, slamming the door behind him and locking it as he sprawled on the dirty street. I picked up the finger. Two knuckles of his pinky.

“Katie,” I said, “pack this in salt until we can strip the meat from the bone. I’ll wear it as a necklace.”

“Yes ... Husband Ramie,” the girl said. I guess I was recognizable when I arrived, even to Katie. I cleaned my blade and sheathed it, releasing Miranda’s body back to her control. Miranda rushed to Theresa to embrace her, but the frightened girl scooted away as quickly as she could.

“I suppose you want what he would take as well,” Theresa said. She grabbed the broom and swung at Miranda.

“No. No, sister.”

“I have no brothers.”

“No you don’t,” Miranda agreed. “You have a stepsister to whom life has been unkind.”

“My stepsister died in Indiana,” Theresa said.

“Is that what they told you?” Katie said coming to the counter. She was a hard woman in the body of a still-pretty girl. “Your stepsister was sold by your father to become a Texas whore. She saved the lives of three other girls, including me, by killing our kidnappers. And to thank her for her kindness, one of those stupid girls attempted to strangle her and thus ruined her sweet voice. For over a year, her only thought has been to find her stepsister and make sure she did not suffer the same fate.”

“Miranda?” Theresa said, still holding the broom in front of her.

“I am so sorry, Theresa,” she said. “What Katie says is true. Mister Jonathon lost in a card game and used me to settle his debt.”

“You killed them?”

“My hands have killed three men, stepsister. They all deserved to die. Please do not think ill of me,” Miranda said. I could feel the tear run down her cheek. “Where is your father and my mother, Theresa? Why are you here alone where ruffians like this can attack you?”

“I am fifteen, Miranda. I should be able to run a mercantile,” Theresa said. Then she began crying, dropping the broom. “Miranda, I’m so frightened. My father is following the railroad. He sends orders to me and I fill them on the next car out. Your mother ... Miss Dolly is ill. This was the first time I’ve come to the warehouse alone.”

“Can you take us to her, Theresa?”

“The next train is in two days. No one else has come to work today. I think they all knew I would be here alone. I can take you to your mother. It is ... really you, is it not, Miranda?”

“For good or ill, it is really me. And this is my most faithful companion, Katie Forster. Please take me to my mother.”

It was a tearful reunion. Dolly did not believe it was her daughter until Miranda had removed her shirt and shown a birthmark beneath her left breast. Miranda had aged with the hardship of the trail and, at seventeen, was a somewhat gaunt and wiry woman whose breasts were still firm, probably thanks to the bindings that Katie kept wrapped around them. About as good as a sports bra, I suppose.

When she had heard the story fully, it was all we could do to keep Dolly in her bed. She swore she would hunt Jonathon down and kill him herself. She had not known Miranda was missing until the train was nearly a day away from Vincennes. They sent telegrams back to every station where they had stopped. They were in St. Louis when a message was returned from New Albany that said a body that matched the description had been found and buried. She wanted to go back, but Jonathon was intent on moving on to Omaha as quickly as possible.

“He had all our stock loaded on a barge that took us three weeks to get to Kansas City. In the face of winter storms, he left us in Kansas City and hired men to move the barge on to Omaha. He arrived here in December, in time to be on hand for the laying of the first rails west. We went by stage coach in the spring and already this warehouse was nearly full. Shipments were arriving by rail from Chicago and Jonathon was shipping them out to Columbus, Nebraska by the time we got here.” Mother stopped and coughed until she spit blood-caked phlegm from her mouth.

“What ails you, Mother?” Miranda asked as gently as her harsh voice could muster.

“I have consumption. Imagine. I, who have not a poetic bone in my body.”

“You have arrived to see my suffering once more,” Miranda moaned to me.

I am so sorry about your mother, Miranda. But I am glad I arrived when I did. We got here in time to save Theresa. That was your goal.

“She thinks I am hideous. And I am. Will I ever wear women’s weeds again?”

Have faith and give her time. I believe it would be a good idea to get a dress as soon as possible and start putting on a little weight if you can.

“It is still going to be hard work. But it feels so good to have my breasts unbound. I swear, Katie has wrapped them more tightly each time.”

She’s a good girl.

“You left me with ... with my face ... in her privities. What was I to do?”

Oh dear. You didn’t leave her hanging did you?

“Hanging? If anyone finds out what I did, I’ll hang. I ... finished what you started.”

It wasn’t that bad, was it?

“It was ... pleasant when she returned the action.”

Did you repeat it?

“Once. Just before we left St. Joseph. It was most embarrassing but she can be insistent.”

Well, we girls must all stick together.

“Husband Ramie? Are you still here?” Katie whispered in my ear after Theresa was asleep.

“I’m here, Katie.”

“Will you lie with me, husband?” I felt Miranda cringe a little but she kept silent.

“Katie, honey, let us have consideration for the others in our bed tonight. Theresa has her back tight against mine and I would not disturb her.”

“But...”

“Shh, Katie, dear. Let me hold you and kiss you.”

Our kiss deepened and was accompanied by gentle caresses, but I did not let it get beneath the new nightgowns that we wore. While Theresa had been in a desperate place yesterday, the fact was that she was privileged and pampered. In all likelihood, she had been teasing the workers at the warehouse. She wasn’t unkind or spiteful, but I don’t think she thought about how her actions could be interpreted.

After Katie had drifted off to sleep, I lay awake a long time pondering the present situation. I was back in 1867. Miranda and Katie had done well as traders and arrived in Omaha with a larger wagon than that with which we had arrived in St. Joseph. With the gold that was left in our strongbox, we could set up business here in Omaha—go into competition with Theresa if we desired. I knew, however, that Miranda did not want that. We could combine what we had with the Mercantile, but I cringed at making Jonathon wealthier.