AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Regan added, “Our group held bake sales, we sold cakes and pies at some of the local fairs, and held raffles.”
Glenda said, “When I was a young girl, my mother’s group held some of those same activities. I think we might want to discuss this subject further at future meetings. Having a lending library would help Paradise become more progressive.”
The others appeared to agree, but Regan noted the knitting Maud’s tight lips mirrored Minnie’s and guessed they weren’t as enthused.
“Do any of the other cities have a library?” Regan asked.
“Laramie County has had one on and off but they can’t manage to stay open. At one point, they had to mortgage the books in order to pay their bills.”
They went on to discuss other ways they might help their community, like getting the town council to pay Mr. Adams a salary that enabled him to teach more than three days a week. As it stood, parents helped with his pay, provided money for readers and supplies, and even the coal and wood needed to keep the children warm during the winter months. It was a lively discussion and Regan decided attending the meeting had been better than throwing herself off a ladder after all. “So, are women really allowed to vote here?”
Lacy said, “Oh yes. We can vote, sit on juries, and a few have even been appointed justices of the peace.”
Dovie added, “We also have the right to own and hold title to land.”
“Colored women, too?” Regan asked.
Lacy replied, “Yes. Colt’s mother, Isabelle, voted in Territorial elections until she passed away. Adele and Minnie voted as well.”
Regan was pleased to hear that but with Jim Crow spreading across the country there was no guarantee the right would continue to be honored.
When it came time to leave, a short stocky man wearing a too tight brown suit and vest entered the sitting room and marched over to Regan as if he were President Grover Cleveland himself. “I’m Arnold Cale, the mayor and owner of the bank. Welcome to Paradise, Mrs. Lee.”
A bit caught off guard, she replied, “Pleased to meet you.” He appeared to be much older than his young wife. Glenda’s face was unreadable.
His beady little eyes took her in. “I hear you have quite a nest egg. You should let my bank manage it. After all, we men know more about finances than you little ladies do.”
Regan overlooked the insult and replied calmly, “Thank you for that kind offer, but one of my uncles is an owner of the Bank of California. He helps advise me.”
He startled. “The Bank of California?”
She saw him trying to puzzle out how a Colored woman like herself could possibly be related to someone tied to the Bank of California.
“I see,” he said finally. “Maybe he could give me some advice.” But as if not believing her claim, he asked with a challenging tone, “What’s his name?”
“Mr. Andrew Fontaine. I was raised by his brother, Rhine Fontaine, and my Aunt Eddy. At one time, my Uncle Rhine owned much of Virginia City, Nevada.”
His eyes bugged out so far she thought they might jump from his face. “Are you familiar with either of them?” she asked innocently.
“Uh, no. I’m afraid not.”
He continued to look her up and down as if she were a talking icebox.
She stuck out her hand the way she’d been taught by her Uncle Rhine. “Again, thank you for the offer. A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Cale.”
He stared down at her hand. Shaking it, he offered her another bewildered look and hastily left the room.
Glenda sidled up to her and whispered, “Bravo.”
Their eyes met, and Regan thought she’d just gained a new friend.
On the drive home, Colleen kept eyeing her with the same bewilderment banker Cale had shown but kept any questions she may have had to herself. While the silent Colleen drove, Regan thought about her husband. He seemed pleased with the way she and Anna were getting along and Regan was as well. She still had no answers to why he retreated behind a wall each time they were intimate. There was no question as to whether he desired her; she saw it in his eyes. She just wished he’d admit it so they could openly enjoy that aspect of being married.
Realizing she’d arrived home, Regan picked up her rifle. “Thanks for driving me.”
“You’re welcome,” she said curtly.
Regan walked to the door and Colleen rolled away.
