A Promise to Believe in by Tracie Peterson Page B

sisters and I will help in any way we can.”
    “You already help by bringing us clients,” Marie said, laughing. “You keep doing your part, and we’ll do ours.” She walked back to her laundry without another word.
    Beth tried to think of something she could do to show her goodwill. She wondered if they would like a cake, then scoffed at her own idea. A cake? What in the world would a cake do to benefit these poor women?
    “I heard you got one of those hot springs baths,” Regina said in a barely audible voice.
    Her words immediately put an idea in Beth’s head. “Yes, we do. Would you three like to take a soak?” Even Marie perked up at this and made her way back to Ellie and Regina. “It’s quite pleasant,” Beth continued. “I have towels, and you could stay as long as you like. We won’t have a stage in until late.”
    “You sure your sisters won’t care?” Ellie asked.
    “I know they’d be pleased.”
    “Let’s go right now while Rafe and Wyman are still sleeping,” Marie suggested. She looked at Beth and narrowed her eyes. “That is, if it’s all right with you.”
    “It’s fine. I’ll fetch some towels for you.” Beth smiled and headed to the back porch as the young women darted across the yard to the fencing that surrounded the hot springs pool. She felt a sense of accomplishment, even if it was just to offer these women some simple comforts.
    Picking up three thick towels, Beth walked back to the hot springs and wondered what other ideas she and her sisters might come up with to better the lives of these soiled doves.
    At the pool gate, she heard the women inside. They were happy. Ellie was commenting on how it was the first hot bath she’d had since leaving Missouri. Marie said she’d never seen anything like it. Regina was saying something that Beth couldn’t quite make out.
    “I brought the towels,” Beth said, closing the gate behind her.
    The pool had been constructed from a wooden frame built by her father and Harvey. It was about ten-by-ten and was situated with piping that brought the hot water into the pool at a constant rate. On the north side there was a drainage area where the water could trickle over the pool edge and run into a stream that emptied into the nearby river.
    Somewhere along the way, her father had added a few benches, as well as a ledge on which folks could put their towels and other things they wished to keep dry. It was here that Beth placed the towels. She turned to the women and let out a shriek.
    “What’s wrong?” Ellie asked. She stood and turned as if something were creeping up from behind them.
    “I . . . uh . . . well, you’re . . .” Beth’s words faded. They were stark-naked. Each of the women had left their clothes on the benches. She didn’t want to add to her own embarrassment or insensitivity, so she forced a smile. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all. The towels are here.”
    She glanced down at Ellie, who was just turning back to face her. Beth noted a crisscrossing of reddish purple bruises across the woman’s back. Someone had obviously beaten her with a belt or strop. Beth cringed inwardly and bit her tongue to keep from asking what had happened.
    Ellie smiled up. “This is wonderful, Miss Gallatin. Thank you.”
    Beth nodded and glanced to Marie, who was floating quite shamelessly without thought to who might gaze upon her unclothed body. “I’m glad you like it. I have to get back to my laundry now. Oh, but please do just call me Beth. No need for us to be formal.”
    She hurried back to her washing and tried to put the scene from her mind. She’d read stories in the past of public bathhouses. In Roman times, it was especially popular, but she found it rather shocking nevertheless.
    Picking up one of Mr. Bishop’s white shirts, Beth could hear his instructions once again. He acted as though she hadn’t the first clue about laundry. “Well . . . maybe I am rather careless,” she murmured. She glanced at the pile of