Soiled Dove by Brenda Adcock Page B

later tonight.”
    “What kind of job?” Hettie asked suspiciously.
    “Waitressing at the café next to the saloon. The owner of the saloon owns it. His wife runs it and needs help,” Loretta explained.
    “I don’t like it, Retta. Being next door to a saloon, you don’t know what kind of trash may go there,”
    Cyrus objected.
    “It can’t be any worse than the trash I dealt with in St. Joe,” Loretta snapped. The hurt look on Cyrus’
    face made her wish she could take the words back.
    “I’m sorry, Cyrus,” Loretta said, placing her hand on his arm. “You have always been extremely kind to me. I…”
    “No, no. You are right, Miss Loretta. I should be the last person to judge you. You are more than capable of caring for yourself.” He stepped toward her and pulled her into a warm, friendly embrace.
    When they broke apart, he continued to hold her by the shoulders. “But promise me you will be careful. In fact, I will drop by later and escort you home. A young lady shouldn’t be walking alone after dark in a strange town. We know very little about Trinidad yet.”“What did you and Hettie find out about the homes you were promised?”
    “I’ve seen mine,” Cyrus answered. “It will require some work to make it feel like a home, but there’s ample room for the three of us.”
    “The school board keeps a room at a local boarding house for their teacher,” Hettie said with a smile. “I visited there today after our meeting. It’s small, but well kept. It will be an adjustment since I’ve never lived alone before, but I’m hoping you will all take the time to visit from time to time.”
    “You’ll see me every day,” Amelia said from the doorway.
    “I have to get back to the café,” Loretta said.
    “Perhaps you could all come by for a meal this evening.”
    “We will,” Cyrus said. “Be careful.”

    Chapter Nine
    THE MINUTE LORETTA walked into the small café, Rosario Manning, began a non-stop tour, explaining what she expected from her new waitress.
    She tossed Loretta an apron and continued chattering on rapidly, speaking a strange and confusing combination of English and Spanish. Loretta only caught about a third of what she was being told.
    When she looked confused, Rosario grabbed her by the hand and dragged her, pointing to an object she only knew the Spanish word for.
    Rosario was a short, rotund woman, her eyes squeezing shut when she smiled broadly. A long black braid, similar to Loretta’s, trailed down her back. Loretta had to walk a few steps behind the woman to avoid being whipped in the face by the braid when she turned around quickly, which happened more often than Loretta would have liked.
    Rosario smelled of cooking spices and something else Loretta couldn’t place, but seemed friendly enough.
    After a fast introduction to the restaurant business, Rosario picked up a pad and pencil and thrust them toward Loretta. “Now we wait. Not long,” Rosario said. The sound of arguing drifted from the kitchen area and Rosario harrumphed. She strode purposefully into the kitchen and flung the swinging doors open. “Hector! Carlos! What you do?”
    she exclaimed. A fine cloud of white filtered through the room. Loretta stifled a giggle as she watched two young boys with full heads of black hair and deeply tanned skin involved in hurling handfuls of flour at one another. They stopped instantly at the sound of Rosario’s voice and stood sheepishly looking at her with dark brown eyes that stood out against their now white faces.
    Rosario shook her head and spat out a string of Spanish. She was obviously chastising the boys, but there was no doubt in Loretta’s mind that Rosario loved the rambunctious children. Rosario glanced over her shoulder apologetically. “My niños ,” she said with a shrug. Returning her attention to her children she said, “Clean up muy pronto and go to su padre .”
    The boys began scurrying around the kitchen casting shy smiles at Loretta.
    WITHIN THE