The Measure of a Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

you.’’
    Another knelt, plopping a knee into the mud. ‘‘Would you do me the honors?’’
    She reined in her exasperation. ‘‘No. I’m sorry.’’
    His expression fell.
    Pulling her gaze from his, she ran it across the assembly. All had the unspoken question on their lips. She wilted a bit before taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. ‘‘No.’’
    ‘‘But without your pa, there just ain’t no place for unmarried ladies to stay.’’ This from the young man still kneeling at her feet. ‘‘You’ll be needin’ to double up, miss, and I’m as good a feller as the next.’’
    She closed her eyes, prayed for patience, tried to suppress a spurt of anger toward her late father, and very sweetly but firmly refused once again. Then she resumed her search.
    But rather than discouraging the men, her polite refusal seemed to have emboldened them, and they stuck with her, adding steadily to their numbers throughout the afternoon. She decided the proper thing, the only thing, was to pretend they weren’t there.
    She did find places to stay—for men. But she had seen dog kennels at home that were nicer than the conglomeration of hovels that made up the city of San Francisco, and they certainly were no place for two women and a boy to lodge. Why hadn’t the papers warned of these deplorable conditions? What in the world were they to do?
    The legitimate boardinghouses overflowed with men on floors, tables, benches, shelves, cots, and bunks, all covered with filth. She found the restaurants much the same but with bad fare worked into the equation. She didn’t even bother to ask for prices; she wouldn’t have stayed had they been free.
    Crammed betwixt and between these coops were more barrooms, saloons, and public houses than a body should ever see. Much to her disgust, gambling clearly dominated the life and soul of the town. Why, at this very moment her devotees were betting on how long she’d last before ‘‘marrying up.’’
    And the marriage proposals had continued relentlessly. Surely even Penelope did not have to endure such as this. What she would give for a glimpse of just one other respectable female.
    Boards, bushes, and tobacco boxes lay in the street as a makeshift walkway. The sun began to set and the saloons became livelier, causing the size and makeup of her ‘‘following’’ to finally dissipate as the call to gamble lured the men away.
    She had only intended to leave Michael and Lissa by themselves for a couple of hours. Concern for how they had managed without her for an entire day quickened her pace.
    Barely lifting her skirts, she picked, jumped, strode, and tottered back down Washington Street to the Plaza. The closer she came to the Plaza, the larger and noisier the saloons, until finally she stood across from the hotel. Her stomach growled, her legs ached, her bonnet drooped, and her disposition flagged.
    She’d had nothing to eat other than that sip of coffee from this morning. All she wanted was to freshen up in the shanty out back and have a bit of soup, but the crowd of men outside the door covered the huge verandah and spilled over into the muddy street.
    She frowned, for though she had discovered the gambling houses stayed busy during the day, she also knew that no one stood idle for very long. Men passed each other, jostled the next one’s shoulder, and threw out insults by the minute, but never did they stand still, much less silent.
    But still and silent they were until someone shouted, ‘‘Here she comes.’’
    Anticipation rippled through the crowd. She tensed. Surely they weren’t waiting for her. But no, they didn’t turn around—were not, in fact, even aware she stood there. She watched the mass step back as one, as solemn as if someone had died.
    It wasn’t until Lissa appeared from around the corner of the verandah that all the day’s aggravations surged to the fore and grabbed hold of Rachel’s very being. How dare they subject a girl of her age