Chapter 4

4

I t was amazing what a warm bath and a decent night's sleep could do for a person. Leah added a few more pins to her coif and examined her reflection in the mirror. It was wonderful to be in her dark green brocade with the fitted jacket. In this attire, she felt like Leah Townsend again. Heiress, and lady of poise and breeding.

A rumble sounded from her mid-section. Time to attend to other matters of importance. Grabbing her reticule from the side chair, she swept through the door and down the stairwell toward the dining room.

The large dining hall was well appointed with gold drapes outlining the full-length windows around the perimeter of the room. Elegantly-clad ladies and gentlemen sat at round tables covered in white linens and scores of silverware.

Leah followed the host to a small table, mindful of her poise. It was improper and borderline scandalous for an elegant young lady to be traveling alone—without a chaperone or, at the very least, a servant. With her head held high, she did her best to present a confident appearance.

With a cup of coffee in hand and a copy of today's St. Louis Republican, Leah scoured the paper for anything that may be helpful in her search for work. A position as companion would be ideal, or maybe a governess. She'd always done well in her studies with Emily and loved to read a good novel.

She still had much of the $500 from her savings, but that money wouldn't cover living expenses forever. And it would be too risky to contact her father's steward for money, too much chance word of her location might get back to Simon. Besides, it might be fun to see what life was like in the working classes—at the very least it would be an adventure. And quite honestly, she craved a life of purpose, more than just rising in society's ranks.

Reading the paper took much longer than she'd expected. The Republican was an overwhelming piece, with eight large pages of very tiny type. It seemed they were almost through with construction on the Eads Bridge, the skeleton-like structure she barely remembered seeing in the distance the night before across the Mississippi River.

On page three, she finally found what she was looking for: Wanted…Situations…Females. There were not as many listings as in the Richmond paper, but she analyzed each advertisement, and came away rather disappointed. If she were a "first-class cook" or "experienced scullery maid" or "skilled dressmaker", she would have been in luck. As it was, it seemed she was grossly inexperienced for any of these jobs.

Father, You've brought me this far. Please show me what You have for me next.

The address Emily had given her was tucked in her reticule. She should probably contact the Barnetts today. She wanted to hold off as long as possible, though. See if she could do this on her own. Call it pride or a foolish sense of adventure, but she wanted to make something of herself.

After leaving a letter addressed to Emily for the clerk at the front desk to post, Leah stepped out onto Fourth Street to continue her employment search.

Much of the traffic seemed to be heading in the same direction, including a curious carriage that ran on a track like a train. It was pulled by a single horse and had eight benches with both sides open. As she watched, the coach stopped every block or so to let passengers on or off. It seemed to be a passenger car that transported people for a fare. Stretching her legs felt good, so she didn't ride the car, but she noticed several of the same curious conveyances on other roads she passed.

The traffic grew thicker as she approached what appeared to be the business district. The buildings on either side stretched up toward the sky, with some spanning half a block. Offices were above and window shops or eateries at street level. It felt almost like she was strolling through downtown Richmond.

After weaving through several streets, she came to a massive four-story building that took up the entire block. A flag posted on the front corner of the ornately carved stone structure waved "Wm. Barr Co." in bold, scripted letters. Writing across one of the man-sized windows near the door read, "The William Barr Dry Goods Company: Fifty-one departments devoted to the sale of high grade merchandise." Now here could be some job possibilities.

After strolling through a number of departments on the first floor, then making her way to the second level, she wasn't quite as hopeful. The departments she could possibly work in, such as millinery, floral, and even women's fashion, were not hiring. They were in need of seamstresses for the ready-made clothing, but the thought of sewing all day in a dimly-lit back room made Leah cringe.

"We're always looking for delivery boys and scullery maids," said the slender, middle-aged woman who had been introduced as the director in charge of hiring. The pale blue of her gown softened the tired lines around her eyes.

Leah's heart sank, but she forced a smile. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

Exhausted, footsore, and discouraged, she came very close to riding a streetcar back to The Southern. Only a single rod of determination kept her walking.

Perusing the St. Louis Republican the next morning, Leah's vigor was renewed and she was determined to find a job. Unfortunately, the "Wanted…Situations…Females" section was just as disappointing as the day before.

Maybe because of the same tiny black type, her mind drifted back to the advertisement for a bride in the Montana Territory. She couldn't imagine doing anything so impulsive as to agree to marry a man, sight unseen. Her situation with Simon was proof that even when one thought one knew a person, it was quite possible to be deceived. And deception could have deadly consequences.

Leah forced that thought from her mind, gathered her reticule and the newspaper, then made her way out of the dining hall and up to her room to prepare for another excursion around the city.

That evening, Leah wilted into the upright back of the settee in the waiting area of the hotel's dining room. Her leg muscles ached, blisters assaulted both feet, and her hope had been beaten down by each snooty butler and no-nonsense housekeeper at the grand mansions of St. Louis. Right then, she would be happy if she never had to walk again.

She inhaled a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it, letting the exhaustion seep from her bones with the spent air. Since her settee was tucked into an alcove in the wall, Leah allowed her eyes to close for a moment. She made an effort to focus only on the sounds and smells filtering around her, pushing back the frustration and anxiety that resulted from this second day of unfruitful search.

The strong murmur of conversation and clinking silver drifted from the dining hall, along with a barrage of mingled smells. With concentration, she was able to pick out the aroma of baked apples, something sweet that might be ham, and another with a definite vinegar undertone.

From the hotel's main lobby came the whoosh of a door, a rush of outside sounds, then quiet again as the door closed. Footsteps clicked across the tile floor, then a man's voice.

"I need a room."

"Of course, sir," an official-sounding clerk responded. "And do you know how long you'll be staying with us?"

"Not sure yet. A few nights at least, but maybe longer." The stranger's voice held a familiar tone.

"Of course, sir. We're pleased to have you stay for as long as your business allows. Let me just record some information and we'll show you to your room." The clerk's voice muffled a bit near the end as he must have been gathering paper and pen.

A long silence ensued.

"I'm sorry, sir, just let me refill the inkwell."

"While you work, perhaps you could answer a question." The stranger's voice niggled forcefully in the back of her brain. Where had she heard it before?

He must have received an affirmative from the clerk, because he continued. "I'm looking for an acquaintance who is also staying in St. Louis, a Miss Leah Townsend. Have you heard of her?"

Leah's heart surged and she held her breath. How did this man know of her? She sank deeper into the sofa, making sure she was completely hidden from view by anyone in the hotel lobby. Why hadn't she used a false name to register? Because she hadn't really thought anyone would come this far after her. What a stupid, na?ve thing to do.

"Why, yes. Miss Townsend has been staying with us for several days."

"Excellent." The pleasure in the stranger's voice sent a chill down her spine. "Can you please give me her room number so I might pay my respects?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm not permitted to share her room number, but I can have a note delivered, if you'd like."

A moment of silence.

"No, thank you. Not at this time. I'll hope to see her in the dining area."

"Of course, sir. Now, if I could have your name, please?"

"Robert Talbert."