All in Good Time (The Gilded Legacy)

22




“MISS CALDWELL! Miss Caldwell!”

Dessa looked up from the sewing project in front of her, hearing her name through the open dining room window. She recognized Nadette’s voice and knew Remee did as well from the half scowl on her face.

Remee continued with her own sewing. “Why doesn’t that girl come to the door instead of making a scene?”

Dessa reached the windowsill just before Jane did and held open the curtain. She waved to the girl. “Come inside, Nadette.”

But Nadette shook her head. “You ain’t told that Miss Remee what I said, didja?”

“She’s right here, Nadette. I’m sure it’ll be fine if you join us. Come in, won’t you?”

Although the girl appeared conflicted about what to do, Dessa dropped the curtain and went to the door, along with Jane. She heard Remee follow them from the dining room.

“What was she saying about me?” Remee asked.

“She hoped you would put in a good word for her at Miss Leola’s.”

“Oh, that,” Remee said with disgust. “I told her I would, but it’s no use. Miss Leola won’t take in a ragamuffin. Nadette’s not even alley cat material, let alone fit for a place like Miss Leola’s.”

“Thank heaven for that,” Dessa said, before pulling open the door. “I don’t think she’ll settle for anything less.”

Nadette still lingered out front, not even on the porch.

“Come in, Nadette. Have something to eat, at least,” Dessa added.

“You got a pie-ano in there yet?” Nadette called.

“No, but I have some muffins. Would you like one?”

The girl chewed her bottom lip all the way to the door. Then, inside, she looked around as if she expected the roof to cave in. When her gaze landed on Remee, she crossed her arms and glared. “You didn’t tell Miss Leola about me, didja? I bet you didn’t even forget—you just didn’t wanna do it.”

“That’s right, Nadette, I didn’t.” There was not a hint of remorse in her voice. “It’s for your own good.”

“You said ya’d do it, but ya didn’t. I guess you might lie to a customer,” she said with disgust, “but not to another gal in the business.”

“You’re not in the business,” Remee said.

“I wanna be!” Nadette pulled at the dress she wore, its pattern marred by stains and its sleeves and hem tattered. “You think I wanna wear castoffs from a Chinaman’s laundry? This is the best they can do for me. It’d be better if I just went around naked. Might make some money that way, anyhow.”

Dessa put an arm about the girl’s thin shoulders. “We might have something upstairs you can have, Nadette.”

But Nadette shrugged off the contact. “I’ll make my own way, thanks. I only came because I wanted to tell ya somethin’. ’Bout a girl the Chinamen over in Hop Alley are bringin’ in.”

“What girl?”

Nadette wiped at her nose. “I wouldn’ta come ’cept I promised one a them girls at the China Palace that I’d do what I could.” She glared at Remee. “I don’t go back on my word.”

“What about this girl, Nadette?” Dessa asked.

“I want ya to help me get her out, soon as she’s delivered. Before . . . ya know, before someone gets his hands on her.”

“Delivered . . . you mean she’s being brought to a brothel against her will?”

Nadette nodded. “It’s Liling’s baby sister, Mei Mei, grown up to fourteen now. They say it’s her turn to come here, but Liling don’t want her to have to do the same thing they brought her here for—ya know, for all them railroad Chinamen. She don’t want Mei Mei to be no baak haak chai.” She lifted her chin as if proud she knew a second language. “That’s—”

“One hundred men’s wife,” Remee finished. “Most of us have been called that in just about every language there is.”

Dessa recalled Mariadela’s warning against getting involved in a culture not her own. . . . And hadn’t she heard there was some kind of halt on legal immigration of Chinese? That might stop the trouble before it even began.

“If she’s coming from China, they won’t be able to bring her into the country, Nadette. They’ll be stopped at immigration, and she’ll be sent back.”

Both Nadette and Remee laughed at that.

Nadette added a sneer. “You think they’d do anything legal like bringin’ her through immigration?”

Dessa sighed; she should have known. And if a fourteen-year-old girl was being brought here only to be a prostitute—too young to decide for herself—wasn’t it Dessa’s duty to see that she be spared such a fate? There must be a reason God had cleared the way for this information to reach Dessa. “When is the girl supposed to arrive?”

Nadette lifted her hands. “I dunno! But I know it’s soon, ’cause I heard ’em talking about it myself. Everybody knows about it—the more they talk, the higher the price goes for her first customer. Even my soaper’s wife is worried he’ll make a bid for her! Liling is real pretty, and they say her sister must be even prettier, ’cause she ain’t been used like Liling. Yet.”

Fury sprouted roots around Dessa’s heart. That such a thing should be planned as if a girl’s virtue—her entire future—could be bid on like some kind of thing. This was a human being made in the image of God—and just a child!

“You tell Liling if she can get her sister here, I’ll hide her.”

“Okay!”

Then Nadette spun on her heel and left before Dessa could call her back for the muffin she’d promised.

Closing the door, Dessa turned and her gaze landed on Remee’s somber one. The other woman shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

That, Dessa could not deny.