“Which I have explained.” Lila’s skin skimmed with insult, but she checked her worn, rumpled skirts. She was quite a sight to explain. “But do you truly think...I’d consort with a man at any time, but worse, the very day we met?” Her heart darkened. “I thought...you considered Mr. Sanderson a proper man for me to walk out with? That was the reason for tea. You didn’t even join us in your parlor. You left us alone on purpose. So you trusted him then. Yet, here?”
“I am a charitable woman. And I did believe, and do, still. Mr. Sanderson is a man of good character. My Asa speaks well of him, and I have good instincts myself. But, still.” Miss Frieda pretended great interest out the window. “You’ve broken your own husband’s rules. You were to be in my house.”
“My own husband is dead. Times change.” She moved a little to start coffee, but slow, as not to seem running away.
Miss Frieda’s face turned into a big pout. “I support the reverend. I liked him from the start. And on behalf of his memory, from my own pocket, I cook extra for...” She waved her hands about, “…for your dregs. But you weren’t there, this morning to take the breakfast here. I had to deliver it myself and dirty my hands.”
Lila swallowed anger. The humanity of Malina, of Mr. Dykstra, of everyone who had passed through the door graced her heart. Whatever Emmett’s shortcomings, forgiveness had been his rule, and judgment something only one’s Lord handed forth.
“I’m sorry. I never considered you one to cast verdicts. On me, or on the people who find succor here.”
“I consider myself wise. Serving supper and reading a Psalm is a sight different from housing a sick man and a—”
Lila’s anger surged. Of course she held back an insulting term for Malina. “All are welcome here. Not everyone has coin for a lodging house.”
“Yet they have coin for the drunk. Or opium dens. Besides, the sporting houses tend their own. Like that Mollie Price you told me of. Yet you’ve allowed an unclean dove under this roof.”
“Malina has become my friend, and she has changed her ways. And Emmett ministered to all.”
“Well, you aren’t him. You aren’t a minister of the word. What would Emmett say?”
Lila had had enough. “He would say, you who is without sin, cast the first stone.” But he had had plenty of rules on that subject, too. She sighed.
Miss Frieda fussed with her gloves, like she was ready to bolt, but wasn’t quite finished. “There are plenty of decent women at Annunciation Church to befriend. Just as there are many so biblically inclined as to oppose your not remaining silent in the church.”
Miss Frieda’s words shocked Lila to the soles of her feet. “You really believe this? I thought you were my friend.”
“If you want to remain in Leadville, and it appears you’ve vowed to do so, you ought to consider your reputation. Behave as a biblical woman does, and broker the proper relationships.”
“Oh, I understand.” And Lila did. She had been among the topics discussed the day before at Miss Frieda’s meeting with literary society. And the handsome new lodger was deemed Lila’s means of escape.
“Mr. Sanderson did not compromise me. Or my reputation. The only one from this moment on who can so is you, Miss Frieda. What now? Will you?”
The landlady remained silent.
“As for Malina, she’s made mistakes. We all make them, they’re different, that’s all. She longs to amend herself. Forgiveness and absolution and sinning no more are the Lord’s words. Not mine.”
“Oh, my dear girl.” Miss Frieda grabbed Lila close, mussed hair and slept-in dress and all. “I do hold Mr. Sanderson an upstanding man. He handed me enough rent for a week or more. With no quibbling about my prices. He’s clean and grooms himself well, and came to me highly recommended by my Asa. I apologize for misspeaking.”
Lila hugged her back. “Well, I wouldn’t like it, Mr. Sanderson tossed into the street.” Although Miss Frieda had not included Malina or even Lila herself in her good graces, Lila smiled then. “Miss Frieda, I feel called to go about my work here. If your...friends seek to critique me, I hope you’ll defend my actions. I feel responsible for my husband’s goals.” She choked on the words, but the vow never died. “And I trust I don’t taint the walls of your boardinghouse.”
Miss Frieda blushed purple. “Oh, my dear, you are my valued lodger. I fear I bring up my own mama’s attitude in my recent condemnations of you, as well as the henhouse at the society. With you of an age to be my daughter, had I been so blessed, I guess I felt a responsibility to nag.”
Now her cheeks matched the orange of the fireplace, and Lila understood at once. She honestly had believed Bronx and Lila had been up to no good. “How could you?”
“His note said he was spending the night with you. No mention of illness. I overstepped. But I can’t deny my heart stopped at your disarray.”
Bronx had worded things so poorly? “Then let’s put this morning in the past.” Love washed over her. Miss Frieda had held her while she grieved. Far too many others had displayed little compassion for the legacy of a well-dressed city couple messing with Leadville’s mud and immoral.