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. Chase Benteen Calder.”
“Aren’t you … getting a little nervous?” Every time she thought about marrying a man like Benteen, Sue Ellen felt little shivers of alarm. He was so male. He wouldn’t have been her choice at all. She would have picked someone quieter, more reserved. It was almost scandalous the way Benteen looked at Lorna sometimes. “I mean … about the wedding night … and all.”
Lorna glanced away to avoid meeting her friend’s curiously intent look. A quick warmth burned her cheeks. “Yes … a little,” she admitted.
It was something she tried not to think about because it seemed improper to let her imagination dwell on it too much, as it tended to do. Nothing she had seen or learned in her young life had taught her to regard passion as a virtue. It was practically the complete opposite. To even let her thoughts stray in that direction was considered shocking.
“Do you suppose … I mean, I’ve heard … it’s very painful for a woman.” Sue Ellen lowered her voice and glanced apprehensively toward the back room, where her mother and Mrs. Pearce were having tea. “It … sounds degrading to let a man do … those things to your body, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Lorna felt hot and trembly all over, embarrassed yet excited in a frightened kind of way.
“I guess you eventually get used to it,” Sue Ellen offered as consolation. “I’ve even heard that you can get to where you can pretend it isn’t happening. You can think about something else instead, and block it out altogether.”
“Really,” Lorna murmured, and tried to laugh away her uncomfortable feeling. It came out forced. “I guess I’ll be finding out for myself soon enough.”
“Oh, Lorna.” Sue Ellen’s chin quivered when she gazed sad-eyed at her friend. “I wish you weren’t going away. I don’t want you to leave.”
“Don’t start crying, Sue Ellen, or I will,” Lorna warned.
“But you’re going so far away,” her friend protested. “Maybe we’ll never see each other again.”
“Yes, we will,” she insisted with a determined tilt of her chin. “And we’ll write each other—regularly.”
“If I were you, I’d be scared of living way up there in that Indian country.” Sue Ellen shook her head, silently marveling at Lorna’s courage.
“Benteen will be with me,” Lorna asserted.
“But he’ll be away sometimes, looking after the cattle. What if the Indians come while you’re alone? They might capture you and take you prisoner.” Her alarm grew in proportion to her expanding imagination. “I’ve heard stories about what those savages do to white women. They take turns with her, making her commit all sorts of vile, unspeakable acts.”
“Sue Ellen, stop it,” Lorna demanded, struggling with her own growing fears.
“I’m sorry.” Her friend was immediately contrite. “It’s just that I get so worried when I think about you all alone—with no doctors for hundreds of miles probably.” She realized that she was doing it again. “I won’t say anything more. I promise.”
Lorna hoped she meant it. She already had enough misgivings about leaving her home, her parents, her friends, and the only kind of life she’d ever known.
The shop bell above the door signaled the entrance of three customers. Lorna’s glance was absently drawn to the sound, and immediately she recognized the heavily rouged women with their bright-colored gowns. Her reaction was an instant withdrawal of obvious interest. A respectable female didn’t acknowledge the presence of “scarlet ladies of the night.” They dressed to draw attention to themselves—“attract business” was the way they put it. Lorna was aware they frequented the millinery store for the latest creations in outrageous hats and bonnets. In the past, Sue Ellen had whispered many of the conversations she’d overheard, censoring the foul language and guessing at the definition of terms neither she nor Lorna had ever heard before.
“I’d better go get Mother,” Sue Ellen whispered, too reticent to wait on them herself. “You can come in the back room, if you want, and wait until they’re gone.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Lorna turned back to the mirror and lifted touching fingers on the lace veil.
She was slightly amused by her friend. Sue Ellen acted as if she would be contaminated by the presence of the three sporting ladies in the same room with her. Although Lorna didn’t admit it, she was a tiny bit curious about these women who were shunned by respectable members of the community. As long as she ignored them, she saw nothing wrong with remaining where she was.
Reflected in the mirror, she saw a henna-haired woman waylay Sue Ellen before she could escape into the back room. “Excuse me, miss. I’ve stopped to see if the hat I ordered has arrived yet.” Her voice had a cultured sound to it.
Sue Ellen turned red all the way to the roots of her hair. “I’ll get my mother.” She backed hurriedly away from the woman.
Lorna heard the titter of laughter from the other two when Sue Ellen disappeared in a red-faced panic. “Lordie, Pearl,” one declared. “You embarrassed the lady. I’ll bet her knockers turned red.”
“She was embarrassed by her own imagination,” retorted the henna-haired woman named Pearl.
Just for a second Lorna wondered if that was true. Sometimes Sue Ellen seemed very preoccupied with the intimacies between a man and a woman. She didn’t have to dwell on the thought, distracted by a glimpse of a black-haired prostitute who had wandered over to look at some hats displayed near Lorna.
“Pearl. Jenny. Come look at this,” she called to the other two.
With all three gathering near her, Lorna concentrated on her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t want to appear to be taking any notice of them.
But the red-haired Pearl didn’t find it necessary to ignore Lorna. “That is a beautiful veil,” she declared, and came over for a closer look.
