Page 2 of Taming Lady Temperance

“No, Bertha. This is not a suffrage society.”

What? Noreen’s frown deepened.

“I’m not proposing we form a group to support any particular political or social agenda. What I hope to create is a sisterhood that supports each other and our community. Some of us live as spinsters by choice, others ended up on this path due to the twists and turns of an unpredictable life. No matter your story, every woman in this room can relate to the unique hardships you face. The pinch of loneliness that strikes in the dark of night, the ostracism that comes from living on the periphery of other people’s families, the frustration of not being taken seriously because we have no husband to defend our ideas, and the shame that comes from the careless words or disdainful glances from others that imply we are unnatural or broken in some way.”

The words punctured Noreen’s chest and deflated her rigidity, leaving her slumped in her seat. Had Miss Lockwood peered directly into her heart? How else could she have described with such accuracy the secret insecurities and heartaches that Noreen battled in the darkness of her private thoughts? Surely, she didn’t suffer from such emotional distress?

“You are not the only one to feel such things.” Miss Lockwood’s gaze landed on Noreen for a heartbeat as it swept the audience, and Noreen felt as if salve were being rubbed into the raw places that had just been exposed. “We have all experienced the pinch of those particular pangs. However, I have not brought us together tonight to commiserate and complain. No, my sisters. I wish to encourage and empower you. For you are of special worth in God’s sight, and he has work for you that no one else can accomplish.”

She lifted an open Bible from the lectern and began to read. “Hear the words of the apostle Paul. ‘The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband.’” She set the Bible down and gripped the edges of the lectern with both hands, her eyes lighting with fervor. “We have a freedom to care for the things of the Lord that married women do not possess. I propose that we form a society to do precisely that. To careth for the things of the Lord and for each other. A secret society known only to its members. I do not propose secrecy because I am ashamed of my spinster sisters but because anonymity will grant us freedom from public censure. The Lord himself promised that righteous deeds done in secret will be rewarded by the Father.

“Now, I don’t expect anyone to give an answer tonight. I ask you to pray about it and give it careful consideration. Those who choose to join will make a commitment to be a supportive sister to each member and to uphold the standards of the organization as stated in the packet that Miss Evans will now distribute.” Miss Lockwood nodded to Martha, who rose from her seat and began handing out papers as if the ladies in attendance were part of her grammar school class.

“Each of these packets contains a brief biographical sketch of an unmarried woman who made a positive impact on our world,” Martha said as she handed papers down the rows of seats. “Women like Clara Barton, Charlotte Brontë, Susan B. Anthony, Jane Austen, and Nellie Bly. Some were quiet in their influence, others were more outspoken. But each chose to stand for what she believed to be right and was willing to overcome the obstacles the world stacked in her path.”

Martha arrived at the back corner of the room and pulled a set of papers from the bottom of her stack. “I saved these for the two of you.” She handed the first packet to Jane. “I thought you might gain inspiration from Louisa May Alcott. I know how much you enjoyed Little Women.”

Jane flushed with pleasure as she accepted the papers. “I might just read the novel again in her honor this week.”

“How many times will that make?” Noreen teased.

Jane ducked her head. “Eight.”

“How can you enjoy a story when you already know everything that is going to happen?” Noreen adored Jane, but she didn’t always understand her. “Doesn’t that make it boring?”

“Not at all. It’s like visiting an old friend. The pleasantest of company.” Jane folded her papers and slipped them inside the cover of a book that had been hiding in the folds of her skirt.

Of course. Jane never went anywhere without a book.

Noreen returned her attention to Martha. “Who did you save for me?”

Her friend offered a smug grin. “Someone I thought you might appreciate.”

Noreen took the papers and flipped to the second sheet, her midsection aflutter. She scanned the top of the page. A name she knew well jumped out to greet her. Swallowing a delighted squeal, she beamed a smile at Martha. “Frances Willard?”

Martha winked. “The president of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union.”

A woman Noreen idolized and strove to emulate.

“This is perfect.”

Martha tapped the remaining papers against Noreen’s shoulder. “I know.” Martha made her way back up to the head of the class, and Miss Lockwood regained the audience’s attention as she went over the society standards.

Noreen only listened with half an ear. She was too busy scanning the information Martha had pulled together on Frances Willard.

She’d been president of a college for ladies? Noreen hadn’t known that. Hadn’t known that she’d worked a brief stint as the director of women’s meetings for Dwight L. Moody, either. Ms. Willard’s experience as a renowned lecturer came as no surprise, though. One of Noreen’s greatest dreams was to hear her speak in person. Yet she hadn’t realized the woman had spoken in every state in the Union in 1883. Noreen had only been sixteen at the time, without means or opportunity to travel to wherever the woman had stopped in Texas. But if she ever came to Texas again, Noreen would travel as far as necessary to meet her hero.

Noreen reached up to touch the small bow she wore pinned to her bodice over her heart. A white ribbon to symbolize purity, the badge of membership in the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. Her passion. Her calling. A calling she’d renew tonight. For Frances. And all the families, like her own, that had been destroyed by the evils of liquor.

She’d grown lax of late. Hadn’t protested in nearly three weeks. Had allowed the patrons of the Salt Fork Saloon to fall back into complacency. Well, no more. Time to set the drunkards of Albany on the path to redemption.

Chapter

2

Deputy James Paxton moseyed down Second Street on his evening rounds. All was quiet around the courthouse square. As usual. Weeknights were pretty tame in Albany. Weekends, too, for that matter. Just the way he liked it. He’d gone nearly two weeks without arresting anyone. Letting Donovan Farley sleep off his drunks on a jail cell cot didn’t count. After Farley tripped over a rock last year and busted his arm on his way home from one of his drinking binges, his wife told him not to come home until he could see straight. Farley’s vision was questionable on a good day. Add a half-dozen shots of whiskey to the mix, and he’d be lucky to find his own boots. If a jail cell cot kept the man in good graces with his wife, James didn’t mind putting him up for the night. As long as he kept the contents of his stomach where they belonged. Sheriff Adair didn’t take too kindly to his jailhouse smelling like regurgitated liquor, and James wasn’t overly fond of floor scrubbing.

A couple of decades ago, this part of Shackelford County looked vastly different. Rowdy cowboys working the cattle trails to Dodge City, adventure-seeking soldiers stationed at Fort Griffin, buffalo hunters, gamblers, and outlaws of every sort made the area home. Old-timers even talked about the days when Doc Holliday and Big Nose Kate lived in The Flat, the locals’ name for the town of Fort Griffin that sprouted up below the military garrison. It had been one of the most lawless places in the West. Vigilance committees sprouted up to try to preserve the safety of the ranchers, farmers, and merchants in the area, but lynch mob justice was still murder in James’s book. Thankfully, Albany won the county seat away from Fort Griffin and helped establish some stability in the area. And when the railroad bypassed Fort Griffin in favor of Albany, people of The Flat dispersed in search of greener pastures.