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Chapter One
Denver
Spring 1870
“Stop him!” Eddy Carmichael screamed, scrambling to her feet from the mud. The man who’d snatched her purse and shoved her down was now running away down the dark Denver street. Taking off in pursuit, she called for help, but there were no policemen about and the few people on the walks nearby gave her no more than a passing glance. Up ahead, the thief turned a corner. Not wanting to lose him, she ran faster, but by the time she reached the spot, he’d disappeared. Frantically casting about for clues as to his whereabouts, she saw nothing. Anger turned to frustration and then to despair. Inside the purse had been her paltry month’s pay and the train ticket to California she’d purchased less than an hour ago. She’d been saving for the passage for months in hopes of starting a new life in San Francisco. Now, penniless, angry, her skirts and cloak covered with mud, she set out for home.
Eddy dreamed of owning her own restaurant. It was a common belief that women like her, the descendant of slaves, had no right to dream. Yet, she knew from the articles she’d read in the newspapers that members of the race were pursuing theirs in spite of the disenfranchisement being ignored by Congress and the bloody lawlessness of Redemption ravaging the South. Colleges were being built, land was being purchased, and across the nation Black owned businesses were springing up like columbines in the spring. At the age of twenty-seven and unmarried, Eddy saw no such opportunities for herself in Denver, and now thanks to the thief those dreams were in peril.
Her home was a room she rented above a laundry owned by her landlady, Mrs.Lucretia Hampton. Eddy had been so sure of leaving town, she’d already given the woman notice and the new tenant was due to move in tomorrow afternoon. Although Mrs.Hampton would show concern over Eddy being robbed, the laundress was first and foremost a businesswoman and would likely not alter the agreement.
Putting her key into the door lock of her room, Eddy stepped into the darkness. As always, the acrid scent of lye wafting up from the laundry below filled the air. The room was so tiny even a mouse would have difficulty turning around, but on her meager salary it was all she could afford. Having worn the mantle of poverty since the death of her parents twelve years ago, she was grateful to have it. Making her way through the shadows over to the pallet that served as her bed, she struck a match and set the flame against the stub of candle in the old tin saucer that sat atop a battered wooden crate. While the wavering light filled the room, she removed her mud-stained cloak. Rather than attempt to clean it with the small bit of water in her basin, she hung it on the nail protruding from the back of the door with the hope that once the mud dried it would be easier to remove. She put her last pieces of kindling into the hearth. The resulting heat would be minimal but at least the flames held beauty, another element her life lacked. Warming her hands, she thought about her plight. She supposed she could remain in Denver and start saving again. Choosing that route meant finding another room to rent and a new job, because she’d given her employer notice, too. Six months ago, the hotel where she’d worked for the past three years as a cook had been purchased by a new owner whose first act had been to remove Eddy and every other person of color from the kitchen. He offered her a new job scrubbing floors for less money. The demotion was both infuriating and humiliating, but knowing how blessed she was to still have employment, she’d swallowed her anger and scrubbed the floors until they shone. Even then, he constantly found fault with her work and routinely docked her pay for what he termed inferior effort. She knew for a fact he’d never offer her the job back, and there was no way she’d be able to rent another room without one.
She ran her hands over her eyes and sighed. She didn’t want to stay in Denver, not even for another day. Her future lay elsewhere and she knew that as sure as she knew her name, but how could she could get the money for another ticket? Mrs.Hampton didn’t give loans. The Colored community was small and most were as pinched by poverty as she. Those who weren’t certainly wouldn’t loan her money even if she had the gall to ask. Her only relative in the city was her younger sister Corinne, and asking her for money made about as much as sense as asking the new owner of the hotel. After the deaths of their mother Constance and teamster father Ben in a blizzard, Eddy did everything she could to provide for herself and sister; she took in laundry, cooked for the wealthy, looked after their children, and swept their floors. But her beautiful baby sister chose to fall back on her looks and figure and took up with a pimp in the city’s red-light district. Although the pimp was long gone, Corinne still resided there along with her two young daughters. Eddy knew her sister would laugh in her face for having the audacity to ask for money. Corinne had nothing but derision for Eddy’s desire to better her life, but Corinne was her last resort. It was too late to pay her a visit at the moment, but she’d planned to stop by on her way to the station in the morning to say good-bye to her nieces anyway. Now, her visit would be about something different entirely.
“At least I won’t have much to pack,” she said softly. She’d sold what little possessions she’d had in order to help pay her rent and purchase the train ticket. What remained was her mother’s locket, a cast iron skillet, her small cookstove brazier, and a few meager changes of clothing. She had nothing else. Were she not so accustomed to having to claw her way through life, she might have collapsed and wept, but being made of sterner stuff, she’d learned long ago that weeping changed nothing.
The following morning, Eddy gathered her things, took a bittersweet look back at the place she’d called home, and closed the door. After handing Mrs.Hampton the key and being told, “Godspeed,” she set off. Her clothing and the skillet were stuffed in an old carpetbag and the cookstove was balanced on her head. It was a chilly April morning and the city was just coming to life.
Most of the residents of the red-light district were sleeping off last night’s excesses, so the streets were quiet. The seedy area with its cribs, saloons, and bawdy houses looked tired and worn-out under the dawning light of day. Eddy guessed her sister would be asleep, too, and would probably not welcome the early morning visit, but it couldn’t be helped. Setting the cookstove on the ground by her feet, she knocked on the shack’s door.
Her twelve-year-old niece Portia answered the knock and her dark eyes brightened. “Aunt Eddy!”
She threw herself into Eddy’s arms, and Eddy held her tight and kissed her brow. Eddy loved the girls and hated the circumstances they were being raised under. She dearly wanted to offer them a home with her, but going from a destitute mother to a destitute aunt served no one. Although Corinne swore she loved her daughters, Eddy worried about them constantly, especially now that they were growing into young ladies.
Portia’s baby sister, ten-year-old year Regan, appeared and also met Eddy’s appearance with joy. Both girls had inherited their mother’s great beauty. Eddy assumed Corinne knew who their fathers were but had never shared the identities with Eddy.
Regan asked, “Did you come to spend the day with us, Aunt Eddy?”
The hope in her eyes twisted Eddy’s heart. “No, sweetie. I came to talk to your mama. Is she sleeping?”
Regan nodded. “And if we wake her up she’ll whip us. Won’t she, Portia?”
Portia didn’t respond verbally but the tense set of her chin affirmed it.
As if cued, the angry Corinne entered the room belt in hand and snapped, “How many times have I told you not to wake me up?” Seeing Eddy, she paused. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”
“My purse was stolen yesterday. My train ticket to California was inside.”
“So?”
Eddy held onto her patience. “I came to see if I could borrow enough to buy another. I’ll pay you back once I’m settled.”
“Why are you going to California?”
“To look for a job. There’s nothing here for me.”
Portia looked mortified. “You’re leaving Denver, Aunt Eddy?”
Eddy knew she should have told them about California before now, but she and Corinne were like tinder and matches, so she kept putting the visit off. “I’m hoping to,” she said softly. “I’ll come back to see you and Regan as soon as I can. I promise.”
Portia, so stoic for someone her age, raised her chin stiffly. “Okay.”
Corinne said coolly, “Portia, since I’m up, go strip the sheets off my bed, and pump some water so we can start the wash.”
“Yes, Mama.” She hurried from the room and disappeared into the back.
Regan laced her thin arms around Eddy’s waist and pressed herself close. She whispered through her tears. “Please don’t leave Aunt Eddy. Please.”
