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“You really need a keeper,” her sister said with a shake of her head as she left.
Portia stuck out her tongue at the empty space and searched out the papers she needed.
The tradition of women of the race forming groups to assist and uplift their communities could be traced back as far as 1793 when the lady parishioners of Philadelphia’s Episcopal Church of St.Thomas, the first Black Episcopal church in the nation, formed the Female Benevolent Society of St.Thomas. In the years since, women of color nationwide built on that tradition by coming together to support everything from abolition to literacy to the caring of the sick, elderly, and the destitute in their neighborhoods, and since the passage of the Fifteenth Amendment, female suffrage.
The Tucson Good Works Society was founded ten years ago. It was a small group but, like others, dedicated to caring for their community. Portia was the secretary. Her aunt Eddy served as the current president and opened the meeting. The first order of business was to formally approve the plan to attend the convention in San Francisco. In spite of the ill-mannered Ada Jakes, Portia continued to look forward to the event. Regan headed up the group’s volunteering efforts and reported on the campaign to help provide supplies for the small school run by Mamie Cordell out of her home. “There was enough money left over from our last fund-raiser to purchase more readers and enough paper and pencils to last the rest of the school year.” Although there were only five children enrolled, every educated child was an asset to the race.
The meeting continued with a discussion of ways they might help alleviate the suffering caused by the appalling conditions at the San Carlos reservation. Although a hundred women and their children escaped with Geronimo, many more stayed behind.
“We’ve contributed clothing in the past—maybe we can increase our donations,” restaurant owner Sadie Welch suggested.
Portia added another idea. “What if we send letters to some of the large churches back East like Mother Bethel and St.Thomas in Philadelphia to ask for their help? I know the Apache aren’t our race but if people knew about the deplorable conditions, maybe they’d be moved enough to lend them aid.”
The women thought that to be a wonderful idea and after a lengthy discussion decided to implement both suggestions.
When the meeting ended, Eddy thanked everyone for coming. She, Portia, and Regan walked outside to see the ladies off. After their departure, Eddy left for the kitchen to supervise the food that would be going to the upcoming Lane rodeo, and because she didn’t need their help, Portia and Regan sat outside at one of the tables beneath the oaks.
“I always feel good after one of our meetings,” Portia said.
“I do, too. Helping people should make you feel good, don’t you think?”
Portia agreed.
“Speaking of feeling good, I’m being nosey but have you had the chance to use your sponges yet?”
“You are being nosey. But the answer is no. We haven’t had any time alone. He’s been over at the ranch house digging up all the charred wood from the fire and hauling it away. By the time he gets back here, he’s so exhausted from working in the heat, he’s been going straight to bed after dinner.”
“You should sneak him into your room some night soon or sneak into his.”
“With Rhine and Eddy just up the hall, I think not.”
“I forgot about that.”
“Good thing one of us is still thinking clearly.” Portia shook her head with amusement. She loved her sister and hoped life never parted them. She wouldn’t know what to do if it did. “Now, my turn to be nosey. What was it like—that first time and why didn’t you tell me about it?”
Regan hesitated. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you’d approve.”
Portia looked into her sister’s serious eyes. “Sadly, you’re probably right.” Portia didn’t know if other sisters shared such secrets but thought maybe not due to how personal it was.
Regan added, “And the first time was terrible. Neither one of us had any experience so we didn’t know what we were doing. It was kind of painful, too, but—”
Portia went still. “But?”
“The next time. Oh my word. I wanted to shout, ‘Hallelujah.’”
Portia laughed. “You know society says women shouldn’t be having conversations like this.”
“Society also thinks we’re not smart enough to vote, you shouldn’t love numbers, and I shouldn’t deliver the mail. Society can kiss my mare’s behind.”
Portia agreed, but Regan’s description of her first time was troubling. “Was it really painful?”
“It was, but you’re at an advantage.”
“Why?”
“Kent was a cat house king. He’ll know what he’s doing, which means you’ll be just fine.”
The next day, Kent rode with Rhine and Eddy to Tucson to meet his father, who was coming in on the evening train from Chicago. Kent wasn’t sure how the visit would go or how long his father would be staying, but he promised himself he’d keep an open mind with the hope everything would go well.
