Ada's Secret Read online

  “Grace. Your labor has started, hasn’t it?” She couldn’t speak, but nodded in agreement. The baby was coming, but it wasn’t in the proper position for a safe birth. Grace’s contraction eased as she looked at me with grateful eyes. She gathered her strength and quietly but firmly directed the kids.

  “Tillie, Aunt Ada is here now so will you please take Ricky into the parlor and look at the new picture book Daddy bought for your birthday?” The little girl stood with wide eyes and did exactly as her mother asked, taking the frightened boy out of the room.

  I stepped beside Grace and led her into the bedroom. “Grace, I’ve done this many times. We’ll get through it safely. You and the baby will be fine,” I reassured her.

  Her ragged breathing caught in her throat. “How do you know?” Another excruciating contraction caused her to double over in pain at my feet.

  Suddenly, I heard the unexpected sound of her laughter. She clutched my leg as her unlikely laughter grew louder. Was she going crazy? Was she really laughing, or did her crying just sound like laughter?

  As I looked into her eyes I saw tears, and they were definitely tears of laughter as she pointed to my legs. “What is that you have on your legs?” she coughed, as another powerful contraction made her lean against the table for support.

  Promptly, I understood the cause of her amusement. She had never seen my dungarees. “Haven’t you ever seen a woman in dungarees? It is the newest fashion,” I teased her lightly. “There will be time for a fashion show later, right now you get into that bed!” I commanded. “Believe me, this isn’t the last surprise you will get from me today.”

  “Tillie, I need your help. It is time for your mother to have the new baby, and we know the doctor won’t make it here in time,” I called.

  I knew Tillie had inherited her mother’s graceful strength. As she bravely stepped forward, she said, “OK, Aunt Ada, what can I do?”

  “Get me more sheets and towels, and bring them to your ma’s room, please. After that it will be very important that you keep your eyes on Ricky.”

  Tillie settled Ricky in the parlor with the picture book before she gathered all the supplies. I boiled water and tore clean rags into umbilical ties as Grace watched through fear filled eyes. “I’ll explain everything soon. Right now you need to know that I’ve done this many times before. You and the baby will be fine.”

  Grace quietly lifted her work-dress and relaxed. My practiced hands felt the baby’s little body stubbornly resist my attempts to move it into the proper position. My recollections flashed back to the first time I had seen Lettie do this.

  ***

  It wasn’t unusual for her to be called out to assist the finer ladies in Denver if the doctor was out of town, or the birth was anticipated to be difficult. Day or night, when Lettie got the call, she requested to have me go with her. Lettie was known as the best midwife in the city.

  One evening she said, “Ada, I want you with me whenever possible. You have a good head on your shoulders and your touch is gentle yet strong. Women must have very special attention when they are in the throws of giving new life to this world, and you are able to give them the care they need.”

  ***

  My memories dissipated as I calmed Grace and said, “Hold on, Grace. This is really going to hurt, but I need your help. After the next contraction, you have to completely relax and breathe through the pain.” Her eyes locked onto mine as she took a breath and went totally limp. “Here we go,” I coached.

  As her contraction waned, I pushed Grace’s abdomen where I could feel the baby’s little head and applied a smooth, gentle pressure to the tiny spine. Grace groaned in terrible pain, but didn’t fight it. Finally the baby slid, head down, into the proper position.

  “Is it OK now?” she asked. Grace’s breathing became more rhythmic.

  “You and the baby will be fine. It’s in good position now, but it will be awhile before it comes.” I bowed my head and motioned at my dungarees. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

  “Ada, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. You saved my baby’s life and probably mine too. You owe me nothing. How you learned to birth babies isn’t important. If you need to keep your secrets, I will do everything in my power to make sure no one ever pries them from you. All I know is that you are a blessing to me. I will never be able to thank you enough.”

  Suddenly, all the hiding from my past could not be contained. Tears rushed down my cheeks as I sobbed out, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Begin at the beginning. Only you know where that is,” Grace said.

  I started to recount the story of my Ma, Annie Moore.

  Chapter 11

  Ma’s Story

  Annie Moore lived with her poor Irish immigrant parents in a New York City tenement. When her mother became pregnant with her seventh child, eighteen-year-old Annie’s father arranged for her to be a mail-order-bride. Her father had chosen a letter from a miner who promised to give her a better life in San Francisco.

  “Annie, New York is a difficult place for Irish people right now. There are no jobs, and all the young men will know is hard labor and disease. Please, go to the frontier where your chances are better.”

  “Daddy, I’ll do what you ask and go to San Francisco. I appreciate what you are doing, but I’m scared,” Annie said, with tears in her eyes. She knew that she had no prospects here with her family in New York, but hated to leave the ones she loved.

  “He sounds like a nice man, from the letters you let me read. I’ll do my best to make him happy, and be a good wife to him. It’s just so far to go, and I’ll miss you so much.” Her voice trailed off as she realized her future was certain.

  Her father believed he was helping his daughter, but as it happened with many mail-order-bride contracts, Annie’s life did not improve.

  As she stepped off the train in San Francisco, a cold, foggy afternoon greeted her. Looking around, she tried to be hopeful, but she was afraid.

  “Where is he? What does he look like?” She searched faces expectantly hoping that someone would call her name. Annie was anxious to begin her adventure in a new land with a wealthy miner as her husband.

  “So far San Francisco doesn’t look anything like what I anticipated,” Annie said, as she shrugged deeper into her light woolen shawl. “All the pictures showed San Francisco in the sunshine. I hope it looks much better when the fog is gone.”

  The railroad station was dirty and the cold settled into her bones. Horses and wagons came and left, taking happy passengers away from the station. The hours passed, and her hope turned to despair. As evening approached, still no one had come for her. She was alone.

  “Sorry, ma’am.” A weak-jawed little man with a conductor’s hat approached her. “We’ll be closing the station now. Maybe you should go see the police captain. The officers at the station down the street might be able to help you. They have a book with names of the people in town and at the gold fields. Maybe they know your man, but you can’t stay here any longer.”

  Smiling sadly, Annie gathered the small satchel that held her worldly goods. Wrapping the thin woolen shawl tightly around her, she headed out into the misty night.

  “Where is the police sta ... ” she started to ask, but the little man had already closed the door, locked it, and extinguished the lamps. Feeling forlorn, she stepped out into the street. Annie knew she couldn’t stay at the station.

  Taking her chances, she followed the cobblestone street and soon came upon the San Francisco Police Department. Grateful that she had not gotten lost, she quietly let herself in through the heavy doors of the big building. It was still cold inside, but she was out of the dampness and grateful for the possibility that someone would be able to help her. As she stepped up to the big oak desk, she cleared her throat, but the officer behind it did not pay her any attention.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Annie spoke tentatively, “I just came from the train station and the conductor said I shou
ld see the police chief. I am looking for a man named Mike Brennan. He was supposed to meet me at the train station today, but he hasn’t arrived yet. I am Annie Moore, and I am to be his wife.” She smiled broadly, but as the policeman coughed and looked annoyed with her presence. Her smile disappeared.

  The bored officer paged through the big book of names until he found the one he was looking for. “Sorry, girlie,” he sneered, “seems old Mike just left you a widow.” He laughed cruelly as the other officers snickered and resumed whatever jobs they had been doing. He pointed to a door to the left of the entrance with a sign that said “Coroner’s Office.” “The coroner is through that door, but I don’t think it will do you any good.”

  Annie didn’t know where else to go. Opening the door, she came face to face with a large man in a dirty white coat. “I am sorry to bother you, sir,” said Annie quietly, “but I am looking for Mike Brennan. The officer told me he was dead and I thought you might know a bit more about it.”

  “I am sorry, ma’am,” the coroner said. After wiping his hands, he scanned the big record book with “DECEASED” scrawled across it. “My records show that Mike Brennan died of consumption last week, and his partner collected all his belongings. There wasn’t much there anyway. No one had any money for a headstone, but there is a number on the wooden cross beside the grave. He is buried in the cemetery under number four, three, six, eight, two.” The coroner looked up with genuine sadness in his tired eyes. “Sorry for your loss, ma’am.”

  Hot tears built up in Annie’s eyes. Helplessly she stepped out of the office. Annie pulled her bonnet back over her hair and tried to stretch the inadequate woolen shawl across as much of her slight shoulders as possible. “What now?” she whispered. “What now?” She was penniless and alone in the streets of a strange city, without any way back home.

  ***

  “I was so desperate,” recounted Ma. “I spent my first night in San Francisco in an alley. The next day, I tried to find work as a laundress or cook, but people took one look at my auburn hair and told me to find a lady named Scarlet. She would know exactly what to do with me. I didn’t know who Scarlet was, but I saw how men hooted and women looked horrified at the mention of her name. So I was sure I didn’t want to meet her, let alone work for her.

  “Frantically, I wandered the streets. I had no food, and the only water I had to drink was from tanks used to water the animals. One cold damp evening, I sat on the street waiting for another miserable night to pass. I knew I couldn’t go on much longer.

  “I shook every crumb out of my satchel, but there was nothing left of the food my mother had packed for the train ride days ago. I tucked the satchel under my head, and hoped sleep would stop my misery for a few hours. With my worsening plight, I began thinking about doing things I would usually never consider.”

  “Ma, I never knew how hard it was for you.” Ada, squeezed her hand, and snuggled closer.

  Ma continued, “I didn’t see the man at first, but suddenly he was too close and reaching for me. I tried to defend myself by swinging the little satchel, but he caught it before I could do any damage.

  “I remember him saying, ‘Hey, hey, hey there Missy. I’m not here to hurt you! I’ve been watching and just want to help you.’ His deep, sad smile defused my fear, and I let him come closer. He reached slowly for my bonnet asking, ‘May I take off your bonnet? I just want to touch your hair.’ He looked so sad and pitiful as he reached haltingly for my hair. I was embarrassed because I was so dirty, but he seemed lost in a memory as he told me, ‘You remind me of my wife. Her hair was exactly the same color and so beautiful. She died of cholera. With my wife gone, my best friend Mac thought we should go work the gold fields, so I came here to work through the grief.’

  “He continued telling me his story. ‘Mac believed that hard work never killed anybody, but a fight over the rights to our claim did. I’m taking what little money we made in the California gold fields back to Kansas tomorrow. When I saw you tonight, I believed you were my late wife’s ghost, but you are very real.’”

  Ma recalled, “He held his battered old hat in his hand as he asked me, ‘I know it’s inappropriate for me to offer this proposition, but I am a very lonely man tonight, and I am willing to pay you well. Would you consider spending the night with me?’”

  Lettie interrupted Ma, and said, “Ada, you must understand. Your ma was starving. She didn’t have any options.” Ada nodded her head. Ma continued her story.

  “I was beyond desperate. This man was offering me a hot bath, warm dinner, and a safe bed. I was so cold and alone that I accepted his offer. I sold the only thing of value I had left, my virtue,” Ma explained.

  Ma continued with the next part of her story. “That night I had a hot bath and a good dinner, before we went to his bed. The next morning, he left me in the hotel. He had paid for everything and had left me a twenty dollar gold piece. I justified my sin, convincing myself that I had helped him with the pain of losing his wife.

  “As I stashed the money in my purse, I came up with what I thought was a good idea. I decided that being a prostitute might be an easy way to solve my present predicament and get a better life for myself.” Ma’s quiet laugh sang out with the anguish that was still very clear in her memory.

  She continued, “I went out into the streets of San Francisco the next evening with the mistaken notion that being a lady of ill repute was going to be easy. I decided I could make enough money to buy a little boarding house, and live happily ever after.” Ma swallowed hard as she continued, “I don’t recall much of the next night, but I remember standing outside a rundown saloon thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I had just abandoned my plan for the evening and was leaving to find a boarding house when a man ... ”

  “Now, Annie!” Lettie interjected. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you. That hideous excuse of a human being should be damned to Hell for what he did. He despoiled you, stole what little you had, and beat you so badly that we all thought you were going to die. He will pay maybe not on this earth, but someday, there will be reckoning for what he did to you.” Lettie turned and smiled at me, “You were the product of that difficult time.” Her eyes filled with love. “But out of the evil man creates, God gives us wonders.”

  Lettie continued, “At the time I was putting the professional staff together for the Silver Dove when Jeremiah and I found your Ma, half dead, in that awful alley. We nursed her back to health and when I offered her a job at the Silver Dove, she decided to come to Denver with us. We didn’t know she was with child until three months later. I told your ma she should go to the Cottage for Wayward Girls in Colorado Springs. I knew the Sisters there would take care of you and find you an adopted home.”

  Lettie smiled at Ma. “Your ma had another crazy idea. She wanted to raise you right here at the Silver Dove!” Lettie threw her hands up in mock exasperation. “I told her that this was no life for a little girl, but she wanted to give you everything that money could provide. I had my reservations, but I finally agreed because even now a single woman can’t make a decent living alone. Annie knew she could provide you everything you needed if you were here. You gave your mother a hard time during the birth, but you were strong and determined even from your first earsplitting cry.” Lettie and Ma both laughed with the memory. “You were so determined and feisty even then.”

  “Annie,” Lettie spoke softly, “I still think we made the right choice.”

  “I think she did too,” I said, smiling.

  Ma answered Aunt Lettie, “Lettie, I have always been grateful to you for letting me stay. You saved my life, delivered my daughter, and gave me a good job. I owe you too much for me to ever leave you.”

  Ma continued, “You were right about one thing, though, this hasn’t been an ordinary life for my little girl, but I know that we gave her all the things a young lady could ever want. She never knew hunger, and she has grown into a strong young woman.”

  Ma looked deeply into my eye
s. “Ada, never be ashamed of who you are. You are an honorable woman, and you have every reason to be proud of it.”

  Chapter 12

  Grace’s coarse breathing drew my thoughts back to the current situation. My story was now revealed, and Grace would judge me as she wished. I couldn’t tell if Grace’s tears were from her pain or mine. She took my hands in hers and kissed my upturned palms.

  “Like I said before,” Grace rasped, “all I know is that you are quite a woman, and I am proud to call you my friend.”

  Grace gave one final push and the baby made his grand entrance into the world. As we held the new little Teller, we counted his fingers and toes and allowed him to suckle Grace’s waiting breast. He knew exactly what to do. We smiled, “Just like a man,” we said as our eyes met over the tiny new life in her arms.

  “Frank and I had talked that if we had a son we’d name him Nathaniel, after his father.

  The door to the cabin suddenly burst in with a loud crash. Frank in the lead and Patrick on his heels, rushed into the bedroom with their rifles locked and loaded. They stopped wide-eyed and panting from the exertion of breaking through the door.

  “What the hell?” Frank stood dumbstruck.

  “Frank, come meet your son, Nathaniel” Grace said.

  “Are you OK? Is the baby OK?” Frank set his rifle beside the bed and began inspecting his new child as Grace nodded.

  “Nathaniel, welcome to Teller family,” Frank said, beaming.

  Soon Tillie and Rickey were crowding in the doorway. “Aunt Ada. I only did what you told me to,” Tillie said. “I took Ricky up to play beside the road because Ma was making such scary noises.” Tillie wriggled free of Frank’s grasp and crawled up on the bed to see the new baby.

  “I was sure there was something very wrong,” stuttered Frank “Seeing the kids playing alone really scared me. Grace would never let them out of her sight.”