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“I’m going to see Mrs. Johnson,” I blurted out. “To see about a job. Quinn too.”
“A job?” Father’s tired eyes lifted from behind his glasses to look at me. “You can’t have a job. You’re a young lady.”
“I’m going to see if I can get a job in the kitchen or as a maid. Anything to keep us afloat. We can move into the boardinghouse.”
Father’s shoulders sagged. “No daughter of mine is going to work as a maid.”
“Father, the meek shall inherit the earth,” I said. “I’ll do whatever I have to so that you and Mother are taken care of.”
My father said nothing as he rose up out of his chair and headed for the bedroom. Mother and I exchanged a glance before she got to her feet and followed.
I could barely recognize either of them. All our time together had been happy and without strife between us. Now, with what my parents could only see as betrayal from the very people they’d served without complaint for little pay, they had deflated and turned old before my very eyes.
***
The bell over the front door of Johnson’s Dry Goods chimed. Mrs. Johnson looked up briefly from cutting a few yards of flannel for a woman I didn’t recognize. “Hi, Louisa. I’ll be right with you.”
Mrs. Johnson, tall and wide-shouldered, with thick silvery-blond hair and broad features, was still beautiful despite being in her fifties.
“Thank you.” The Johnson family had owned the store for as long as I could remember. With both Martha and Elsa married, they had hired help occasionally to help Mrs. Johnson run the counter. I didn’t have high hopes, but I figured it was worth asking if she had any work.
I wandered around the store while I waited. In addition to fabric, the store sold dry food, home supplies, ice skates, balls, and almost anything else I could imagine. Since the ski lodge had opened, they also sold skis and boots. Flynn had said a ski area would bring commerce to the entire town. This store was evidence that he’d been correct.
When she’d finished with her customer, Mrs. Johnson came out to where I stood by a display of skates. She was the type of woman who commanded both attention and respect. Her daughters, whom I’d been at school with back in the early days, looked very much like their mother. Elsa was married to the town’s first dentist. Martha was married to Dr. Neal. They lived in new, beautiful homes not far from the Barneses’ property. I disliked myself for it, but just thinking about them made me twitch with jealousy. Everything clicked along with ease for women like the Johnsons.
“What do you need today, Louisa?” Mrs. Johnson asked.
“Nothing. I came to see if you needed any help here at the store.”
“But why?” Before I could answer, her thin brows came together. She brushed a few silvery strands of hair back in her bun. “Have they really run him out?”
“I’m afraid so,” I said. “They want us out of the rectory as well. I was wondering if you needed any help here?”
“I hired someone last week. If she doesn’t work out, I’ll be sure to let you know.” She cocked her head to the side, looking at me with her sharp eyes. “I can’t imagine the young men aren’t knocking one another out of the way to get to you. Has no one caught your eye?”
“Me, no.”
“I’m sure you’ll meet someone eventually.”
“Do you have any ideas of places I could look for work?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “The Higgins brothers run the butcher shop without any help, so I don’t think they need anyone. Same with Mr. and Mrs. Olofsson. The feed store has work occasionally, but I think they only hire men. Have you thought about asking Annabelle Higgins? She might need some help.” Annabelle, Quinn’s younger sister, made wedding gowns. I could sew a button on a shirt but that was about the extent of my seamstress abilities. I’d not learned when I was young. Mother had tried, but I didn’t have the aptitude for it. From the cutting of the fabric to the sewing itself, the entire process was too slow and detailed for my impatient ways. I’d grown easily frustrated. Knitting was also not in my list of capabilities. Really, what could I do? Other than cook and clean, I was useless.
“I’m not a good seamstress,” I said. Shame crippled me. I looked away, unable to meet the compassionate Mrs. Johnson’s gaze. Kind people made me ashamed. If she’d been nasty, I would have risen to a fighting position. For most of my life I’d had to rely on the charity of others. I’d do almost anything not to have to take another handout. Poor, poor Louisa Kellam. I could almost hear Mrs. Johnson’s inner thoughts.
“I’ll keep an ear out for other work.” Mrs. Johnson patted my upper arm. “Please don’t worry. Something’s bound to come up.”
The front door swung open and Nora Cassidy walked through wearing overalls and a man’s leather hat.
She greeted us in her usual friendly manner. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Hello, Nora. I’ve got the part you ordered in the back.” Mrs. Johnson hurried toward the back to fetch whatever it was Nora had come in for.
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.” Nora snatched her hat from her head and held it in front of her as a man would. Her white-blond hair hung just above her chin and complemented her elfin face. So many of the girls who wore the square, boxy cut had looked better with long hair that softened their features. Nora didn’t need any enhancements.
“Is the rumor true?” Nora asked in a hushed voice. “Are they kicking you out of your home?”
“They need room for the new pastor. It was never ours to begin with, really. The house belongs to the church.”
