The stout little woman, Margaret Ann Mathis, who considered herself the leader of the boarders, had gone to San Antonio, leaving one place at the table empty. Mrs. Vivian had agreed to hold her room for a week at half the board fee, but no one seemed to know for sure if Margaret would be returning.
"Wear your coat," Dottie Davis whispered the next time she got a chance. "We're going out."
"But Mrs. Vivian locks the door at nine."
"Don't worry, I know another way out and in."
Rainey giggled. She felt like they were planning a prison break.
"Slip down to my room after nine. There is no sense going until she's in bed. The danger will be getting out and back into this house, so if you change your mind, I'd understand."
Rainey knew, as they all did, the rules of the house. If they were caught, they'd be kicked out. Though, with the three sisters leaving within the month for their apartment over their new store and the German coming after his family tomorrow, Mrs. Vivian might find her house empty if she did make Rainey and the widow leave.
"I'll be there." Rainey smiled at the widow. Over midnight tea and coffee the two had become friends. They often played poker with the kitchen's dried beans and laughed the next night when their winnings were served at dinner.
Mrs. Vivian came in to collect the serving plates, and they were silent for the remainder of the meal.
Rainey vanished up to her third-floor hideaway and read all three of her letters from Travis while she waited. He'd written about the law, about the boy, and finally about himself. She read her favorite line one more time.
Sometimes, when I think of you, it is more like I'm remembering a dream than something that truly happened. Then I think of how you felt against me. How soft you were. How warm. I know that you had to have been real, for not even imagination could create such perfection.
Rainey laughed. She could never imagine her Ranger saying such things to her. But he'd written them… he'd written them to her. And that was enough.
Leaning back on her bed, she forced herself to return to the real world, knowing that he would always be a part of her daydreams.
She hadn't baked pies today. In fact she hadn't even gone to the mercantile. Though Pearl and Owen always welcomed her, Rainey knew they needed time alone. So, on days she didn't bake she tried to stay away, not even dropping by to do her books. Today had been cold and cloudy, forcing her inside with nothing to do. She'd sat in the drawing room for a while. The sisters were already taking orders for dresses, and some of the richest women in Austin were calling. Rainey enjoyed the chatter, but in the end she'd spent most of the day sleeping in her tiny room. There, all alone, she could pretend that someday she'd have a life with Travis. She knew he'd never marry someone he considered to be a thief, but there was no harm in pretending.
A little after nine o'clock, Rainey hurried down the stairs to the widow's room, ready for an adventure.
They didn't say a word as Dottie slipped on her black coat and motioned for Rainey to follow her to the back stairs. The kitchen was dark except for the warm glow of a banked fire. They moved silently across the floor to the washroom. Mrs. Vivian's slave did most of the cooking and all the laundry, so this was one room the owner of the house never went in.
The washroom smelled of lye soap. Several bags of laundry were stacked beside the door. "Mamie?" Dottie whispered. "Mamie, you still up?"
Mamie appeared and lit a candle. She looked about to drop with exhaustion most nights and tonight was no exception.
The widow turned to Rainey. "A few days ago I learned that Mamie has been taking in extra laundry at night. A whole bag for a dime. She does it after Mrs. Vivian goes to bed. She's hiding the money and planning to buy her freedom. Of course if Mrs. Vivian finds out, by right she can take the money."
Rainey didn't comment, she wanted to say she knew how Mamie felt, but in truth Mamie had it much worse. Though Rainey's father sometimes hit her mother, he'd never laid a hand on her. She'd seen Mrs. Vivian strike Mamie more than once in anger, and she often loaned her out to neighbors when she didn't think Mamie had all the work she could do.
"There's a free man who works for the blacksmith over on Sixth where Mamie takes a pot now and then to be repaired. He wants to marry her, but Mrs. Vivian says he'll have to buy her first."
Mamie held up her blistered, swollen hands. "I can't wash as much as I could. Miss Dottie is plannin' to help me so I can be with my man." Her brown eyes filled with tears. "I told him I'd sneak out and lay with him, but he wants to jump the broom with me making it all right and proper."
Rainey looked from Mamie to Dottie. "What can I do to help?"
The widow nodded and moved further into the laundry room. "We'll be back in no time, Mamie. You make sure this window isn't locked when we return."
"Don't worry none. Mrs. Vivian don't ever come in here."
Dottie stepped up on a low stool below the window. She pulled her hood over her hair and slipped out the long narrow opening without a sound. She seemed to disappear into the night.
Mamie handed Rainey her navy cape. "I got this for you from the front hall. I figured you'd be needing it. Anybody within a mile could see that yellow hair of yours even if there's just one slice of moon left. You pull up that hood good, child."
Rainey circled the cape over her shoulders and head as she slipped out the window. To her surprise, her foot touched another stool on the outside of the window, making the escape easy.
It took her a few seconds in the dark alley to make out Dottie's form. Once she nodded, the widow began to move along the alley, staying close to the wall. They crossed a street and entered another alley, then another.
Rainey's senses came alive in the blackness. She heard the sound of music and laughter, and then shouts. Between the buildings came the noise of the night, the odd mixture of barking dogs, babies crying, and horses galloping. Bits of conversations drifted to her from open windows.
Dottie linked her arm in Rainey's, grounding her, and whispered, "When my husband died, his partner claimed he couldn't afford to give me half the worth of the saloon and restaurant they owned together, so he split the place and closed off the restaurant. He said it was mine, but I couldn't run it alone, and because my husband loved it so much, I couldn't sell it. What the partner didn't know was that I worked there some at night before my Henry had to take a partner. I knew what lay hidden in the cellar."
"You were a barmaid?" Rainey would never have guessed the widow to be anything but a proper lady.
Dottie shook her head. "I ran a gambling table in the back of the restaurant. Only a high-stakes game a few times a week."
Rainey thought of about a hundred questions she'd like to ask, but this was not the place, so she picked just one. "What's in the cellar?"
"Wine," the widow whispered. "Twenty-dollar-a-bottle wine. I can't very well pull up a cart and unload my half. The partner would never allow that. But if we can take a few bottles at a time, I know a man who'll buy them, and the money can go to Mamie. One bottle will be worth more laundry than she could do in a month. I wouldn't bother to collect it for me, but for Mamie's freedom, it's worth the risk."
In the third alley Dottie stopped at one of the cellar doors. "If it worries you that someone might think we're stealing this, I can do it by myself. All you have to do is be lookout so I don't come up from the cellar and stumble into a drunk. And with two bottles in my hands, I'll need some help with this heavy door."
"I'm with you." Rainey decided this was far more fun than borrowing a horse. She didn't want to consider the fact that she might be turning toward a life of crime.
Dottie pulled a key from her pocket. "I kind of forgot I had this after my husband died." She slipped the key into the lock and turned. "Lucky for me so did the partner. He hasn't bothered to change the lock."