Silver Strike Bride

The second store was Deeley's Dry Goods, and in the window was a sign that said "Help Wanted". Kirsten went inside, and once inside, she could see that the store needed a woman. Women's dresses were displayed on hangers on racks just as they were in Chicago. It was the display of women's underwear that caught her eye.

It was not proper for a man to see a woman's underwear unless they were married, yet the store had men's and women's underwear displayed on the same shelves. It was the same with women's and men's stockings. Both were on the same shelves with just a simple sign over each section denoting it as for men or for women.

Kirsten approached the only other person she saw in the store and asked to see the store manager. The man smiled.

"I'm Horace Deeley, owner, manager, and clerk. What can I do for you today, Ma'am? Perhaps you're in the market for a new dress? I have all the latest styles from New York City."

Kirsten smiled back.

"No, thank you. I'm here because of the sign in your window. I want to apply for work as your clerk."

Horace frowned.

"Yes, I need a clerk. I can't do the ordering and accounting and sell things at the same time anymore, but I do not think I really need a woman as a clerk. I was thinking of hiring a man."

Kirsten could see that she would have to convince him that she could improve his business, and from what she'd seen, that was very possible.

"Mr. Deeley, how many pairs of women's stockings and women's underwear do you sell every month?"

Horace thought for moment.

"Not many, but then I don't have many women shoppers. Most of the women who come into my store are the girls who work in the saloon."

Kirsten frowned.

"That's because saloon girls aren't proper women. I have seen many more women buying things at the general store than there are women in the tents. Does it not concern you that they do not buy their stockings and underwear from you? I can tell you why they do not. They are embarrassed to look at stockings and underwear while you look over their shoulder.

"Women would discuss their garments with another woman if they know no man is watching and listening. I can be that woman and it will improve your business."

Horace thought about that for a while. He'd built his dry goods business selling overalls, shirts, and boots to miners heading to the mines. The women had come later and though he'd ordered some women's clothes and shoes, he hadn't thought about women making up a significant part of his business. Even his own wife ordered her clothes and underwear from a company in Chicago and had them shipped to Denver. Maybe this woman was right.

"If I should hire you, and I'm not saying I will, what would you do that a man can't do?"

Kirsten smiled then.

"I once lived in a city like Denver, and all the stores there had separate sections for men and women. There were women clerks to help women with sizes and to show them the latest styles. They also have a small room with a mirror where a woman can take a dress and try it on to see how well it fits and at least one seamstress to make any alterations the woman desires.

"Denver appears to be growing very fast, and I have seen many women riding down the street in carriages, yet in the time I have been here, I have seen no woman come into this store. If you announce that you have a woman clerk to assist women, I'm sure your business will increase.

"If you hire me, I would mark off a section of your store and put all the women's clothing in that section. I would also have you build a small fitting room where a woman can try on clothing and where she can instruct me in privacy about what changes she would like made. Since I have been sewing my own clothes since I was twelve, I can make any adjustments to a dress a woman would desire. You would only have to agree to not venture into the women's section of the store."

Horace stroked his chin. What this woman said did make sense. If he hired her and it didn't work out it would only cost him the same wages he'd have paid a man. If it did work, he'd make more money.

"I would be willing to hire you on a trial basis for, shall we say, a dollar a day. That is as much as most mine helpers are paid."

Kirsten smiled. She had convinced him to hire her. Now she needed to convince him of the rest of her needs.

"A dollar a day seems to be a good wage for a single woman with a place to live that isn't very expensive, like a boarding house. I am a married woman, and do not have a place to live as I recently moved here to join my husband. He was a driver for a freight company and lived above the stable. We were going to rent a room with a cookstove until we could save enough money to build our own house, but he broke his leg yesterday and the doctor says he will not be able to work again for about two months.

"If my husband and I were to rent a room at the hotel and take our meals there, it would cost us six dollars a day. As I am sure you can understand, I could not work for less than we would have to pay out just to live. I also understand that you can not pay me seven dollars a day since you do not yet know if I am worth more.

"There is another way though. Would you have a small room in back of the store, just a room large enough for a bed and a small stove? If you would agree to let my husband and I live in that room until we can afford a place of our own, it would please me to accept your offer of a dollar a day."

Horace smiled to himself. If this woman could sell clothing as well as she had tried to sell him on her plight, she might make him some money.

"I do have such a room. My wife and I lived in the store until we could build our own house and I haven't used it for anything since we moved. My wife wanted new furniture for our new house, so the room still has a bed, a table with two chairs, and a small stove. It has a separate entrance in back of the store that you will have to use because I closed off the door from that room to the rest of the store. I assume you could begin work on Monday morning at eight o'clock?

When Kirsten walked into the hotel room, Hiram was sitting up on the bed. She hurried over and scolded him.

"Hiram, the doctor said you should lay down for two days and it's only been one. Now, lay back down. I have something to tell you."

When Hiram was again lying on the bed, Kirsten smiled.

"I found work and a place for us to live. I'm going to be a clerk at the dry goods store and we can live in a room at the back as part of my pay. I saw it and it's as nice as this room. It has a stove to keep it warm and for me to cook on and a table and two chairs and a bed for you. I'll be making a dollar a day so we won't have to worry about food.

"After tomorrow, I'll carry our things there and then we'll move in. It's only three blocks from here, but if we go slow and I help you, we should be in our new home by tomorrow night. What would you like for dinner? I'll have to go to the general store after we get moved in. We need another plate and a pot so I can make stews and soup. We're about out of coffee too so I'll --"

Hiram cut her off.

"Kirsten, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but why are you doing this?"

Kirsten stood there with her mouth open for a while, and then looked down at the floor.

"I don't know. It just feels like something I should do."

"Is that why you told the doctor you were my wife, you thought you should do that? Did you really think he'd believe a woman as pretty as you are would be married to a man who looks like I look?"

Kirsten sat down in their only chair.

"I thought he might ask a lot of questions unless I told him we were married. I wasn't thinking about how you look. You don't look bad anyway except for that mask you wear and that doesn't look bad. It just looks odd."

Hiram thought for a second about what Kirsten had just said. Was it possible she was telling him the truth, telling him she didn't think he looked like a monster? She'd change her mind if she saw what was under that mask. Maybe it was time to show her. If he did, maybe she'd leave and he could go back to living by himself again.

"Kirsten, you don't know what's under this mask. In the war, at Shiloh, I got shot in the face. That's why my jaw isn't straight. One bullet broke my jaw and it healed this way. The second bullet took away my nose and there was nothing the doctors could do to fix it. It's horrible. That's why I wear this mask."

Kirsten stood up, walked over to the bed, and sat on the edge.

"Can I see for myself?"

Hiram slowly pulled up the mask and exposed what was left of his nose, but he pulled it back down again when Kirsten gasped.

A second later, she said, "No, Hiram, leave it up so I can look at everything."

Hiram pulled the mask back up again, and was surprised when Kirsten touched his face.

"Does it ever hurt", she asked as she touched his cheek.

"No, not any more."

Kirsten stroked down his crooked jaw.

"But your jaw does hurt?"

"Sometimes, not as much as it used to, but sometimes it does."

Hiram saw a tear stream down Kirsten's cheek and pulled his mask back down.

"Kirsten, I don't want your pity. I am how I am, and there's nothing that can be done about that. Go pity that miner you were going to marry. He might appreciate it."

Kirsten pulled Hiram's hand away from his face.

"I don't pity you, Hiram. I just wish there was something I could do. You've done so much for me when you don't know who I am. If you did, you probably wouldn't have taken me with you."

Hiram was confused.

"I know who you are. You told me who you are. You said you came to Denver to marry a miner. There have been other women who did the same thing. Why wouldn't I have taken you to the mines?"

Kirsten wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

"Because you don't know that I'm probably accused of murdering two people in Chicago."

Hiram's brow wrinkled.

"What do you mean, probably accused? Either you killed two people or you didn't. Why else would you be accused unless you did it?"

Kirsten went on to explain what had happened in Chicago. Hiram listened until she finished.

"I see what you mean but I don't think you have anything to fear here in Denver. They won't be looking for you here."

Kirsten sobbed.

"Yes, they will. They'll find out I took the train to Denver and they'll come here looking for me. That's why I was going to marry a miner. I thought if I lived with him at the mine, they wouldn't look there. Even if they did, my name would be different too."

Hiram chuckled then.

"You were going to marry a man you'd never met just so you could change your last name to his? I've known people to get married for a lot of different reasons, but never so the woman could change her last name. What did you tell the doctor your name was?"

Kirsten sniffed.

"I just told him my name was Kirsten and he didn't ask me for my last name."

Hiram frowned then.

"So you're going to go on telling people you're my wife? I can't live like that, Kirsten. It isn't right and you know it. Besides, other people will think something is wrong with us. Most married people have children, and if we're not married, we can't do that. They'll either think we're just living in sin or that something is wrong with one of us."

Kirsten sniffed again.

"I guess I didn't think about that. All I wanted to do was take care of you."

Hiram didn't know what to say. He didn't believe Kirsten was lying about what happened in Chicago because he couldn't imagine her ever poisoning two people. It was probably just as she said, the housekeeper had done it. Still, once the authorities learned the couple had been poisoned, the cook would be the first person they suspected.

Had he not had a broken leg, he might have been able to take her somewhere, somewhere even further away from people. As it was, all he could do was nurse his broken leg until it was strong enough to walk on again. The doctor had said two months and a lot could happen in two months. If the police in Chicago were able to find out Kirsten had taken the train to Denver, they'd probably telegraph the Sheriff in Denver and ask if he'd seen her. If he had, he'd arrest Kirsten and she'd be taken back to Chicago.

Hiram was letting that thought run through his head, the thought that Kirsten would be taken away, when he was struck with the thought that he didn't want that to happen. He didn't know if it was because he felt sorry for her or if it was the way she acted like his mother had acted when he fell ill or if it was the touch of her soft hand on his face, but he suddenly realized he couldn't let that happen.

"Kirsten, did you tell the owner of the dry goods store your last name?"

Kirsten thought for a while and then shook her head.

"No, not that I remember."

"Well, when you go to work, you tell him your last name is Wainwright and that we got married in Springfield, Illinois before I left for the war."

Kirsten's mouth fell open.

"But we're not really married."

Hiram smiled.

"Who's to say we aren't? I've never told anybody I was or I wasn't. Have you ever told anybody you weren't married?"

Kirsten frowned.

"Not exactly, at least nobody who's still alive except for Alice and the pastor at the church in Chicago. Alice is probably in New York City now and nobody else knew where I went to church."

Hiram smiled.

"Then, we're married just like if we'd really gotten married in Springfield."

Kirsten shook her head.

"What if the police come to Denver looking for me?"

Hiram smiled.

"We'll tell them you can't be the Kirsten Vinter they're looking for because your last name used to be Hayward. That was my mother's maiden name. You lived in Springfield until I got out of the war. I went to Chicago to find work, and when I couldn't find work there I came to Denver. You followed me as soon as I did.

"The fact that a woman with blonde hair bought a train ticket in Chicago doesn't mean anything except you took the train from Springfield to Chicago first because there aren't any trains from Springfield to Denver. There must be thousands of women with blonde hair in Chicago."

Kirsten's face brightened then.

"Do you think they'd believe us?"

Hiram nodded.

"Yes, I think they would. Why else would a pretty woman like you be married to a man who looks like I do unless we were married before I got shot? We just have to act like we're married to everybody. Of course, since we're not, I won't expect you to...to act like a wife when we're alone. I wouldn't ask you to do something like that."

A day later, Kirsten carried their few belongings from the hotel room to the room behind the dry goods store and then came back for Hiram. Hiram said they should walk down the alley and Kirsten knew it was because he didn't want anyone to see him. She could understand why now that she'd seen under the mask, but after a closer look, she decided it could have been much worse. He didn't have scars all over his face and he still had both arms and both legs.

The walk had been rough on them both. It had snowed over the last week and while the storeowners had cleared the snow in front of their businesses, the alley was just snow beaten into ice by the hooves of horses making deliveries. Hiram's crutches had slipped twice and Kirsten had to catch him so he didn't fall down.

Kirsten was a little taken aback by the way she felt when she caught Hiram's weight. Even through the heavy coat he wore she could feel the strength in his arms and chest. That feeling caused a little tingling wave to run from her shoulders and down her back. She'd not had that feeling before.

Once they were in their new home, Kirsten went to the general store and came back with coffee, bacon, ham, a cut of beef, some canned vegetables, and potatoes in a sack under her arm. In the other hand she held a pot and a plate. She smiled at Hiram as she set her packages on the table.

"I think we have enough food to last a while now. I can always go back if we start to run out."

Kirsten was peeling potatoes when Hiram asked her a question that had troubled him since she'd paid the doctor.

"Kirsten, did you have another job in Chicago besides being a cook?"

When Kirsten said no, he asked how she had saved enough money to buy everything she'd bought so far.

Kirsten put down the potato and the knife.

"If I tell you, you won't want to stay with me."

Hiram smiled.

"What could you tell me that's worse then being accused of murdering two people? I don't believe you did that so tell me the rest."

Kirsten took a deep breath.

"Before Alice left, she took the money Mr. Hines kept in their bedroom. She gave me half of it and it was two hundred dollars. Hiram, I wouldn't have taken it except she told me the police would arrest me for murder if I didn't leave Chicago that very day. I didn't have any money except for two dollars and two dollars wouldn't buy a train ticket to anywhere so..."

She shrugged.

"I guess I'm a thief too."

Hiram was sitting on the bed and waved his hand for Kirsten to come there. He asked her to sit down, and when she did, he took her hand in his.

"Kirsten, I think what you did was the only thing you could do given the circumstances. I think Alice was right when she said the police would arrest you, and if you hadn't left Chicago, that's what would have happened. Taking that money from Alice was something you did to save yourself, but you ended up spending some of it to save me. Besides, you didn't really steal the money. You just took money that Alice gave you.

"I've heard of men killing other men at the mines for less money than that so I can't fault you for doing what you did. If you hadn't you'd have never come to Denver and I'd still be laying out there on that trail with a broke leg. I'd probably be dead by now.

"The only thing I want you to do is to not spend any more than you have to until I can work again. It's a man's job to support his wife."

Kirsten pulled her hand from Hiram's, put her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

"Thank you for believing in me. I didn't think I'd ever find anyone who would. I'll be the best wife to you I can be, and I won't spend money on things we don't need."

Hiram hesitated before putting his arms around Kirsten. It felt strange to have a woman crying on his shoulder, but it also felt ...Hiram didn't understand the feeling, but it was there. He held Kirsten close and whispered, "I know you'll be a good wife."

After a week Hiram's leg didn't hurt anymore but the cast itched him nearly to death. After two weeks he felt like ripping it off, but Kirsten scolded him.

"The doctor said it would be a month before he could take the cast off. Don't you go doing something that will make it worse."

When a month had finally gone by, he and Kirsten walked back to the doctor's office. The doctor tapped on the cast, then twisted Hiram's foot.

"That hurt any?"

When Hiram said it didn't the doctor smiled.

"I'll take off the cast, but don't you go tryin' to run any foot races. You keep using those crutches until that leg will take all your weight without hurting you."

Two weeks later, Hiram was standing up without his crutches when Kirsten came back to their room.

He grinned.

"I can stand up by myself, see. I think I'll walk down to the stable and see if they still need a wagon driver."

Kirsten frowned.

"You will not. What if you get kicked again or if you slip and fall? You'll break that leg again and it'll be worse than the first time. You just stay here for another two weeks like the doctor said. Now, I'm fixing beef stew for supper and I need to get started."

Hiram smiled to himself. Kirsten was acting like his mother had acted with his father. His father had been lord and master over the farm, but his mother ruled the house and what her family did when they weren't working in the fields. Kirsten was making him feel almost like he did before the war.