Page 36 of In These Hills

Josephine struggled to think of what else she could possibly say or do to make things right.

“Take your time, Dodge.” Mr. Daniel came around the desk. “And Bethie, you stop by the house later, darlin’. I got pineapple shipped in special, and Clara’s making her upside-down cake tonight.”

Bethie didn’t respond until Mr. Coburn whispered in her ear.

“Thank you, Uncle Jack,” she managed, the brokenness in her voice wounding Josephine all over again.

Josephine watched Mr. Coburn carry her out. The door stood open and she saw her path to escape, but couldn’t move, her vision blurred with tears.

“Mrs. Dunham . . .” Mr. Daniel’s voice filled the silence. “You’ve no reason to feel badly about what just happened. It was plain bad luck, that’s all. Just sorry, rotten timing.”

Josephine shook her head. “I never should have come here today. I shouldn’t even be in this place,” she finished in a whisper, astonished again at how swiftly her world had come undone. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Mr. Daniel.”

“You didn’t waste my time, ma’am. In fact, far as I’m concerned, I’m still looking at my new bookkeeper. Although I got to say, I’m a mite confounded as to why she hadn’t already gotten to work. I mean, it’s not like she can’t see what needs doing clear as day, right in front of her. Unless she’s holding out for a pay raise, which—” He fingered his goatee as though having to think hard on the subject. “I guess I could bump it up a little. I mean, seeing as she can start immediately, and she was obviously so very impressed with my gold medal. As every woman has been thus far, and rightly so.”

Perhaps it was his outlandish suggestions or quick-witted humor—or maybe the way he cocked his head to one side, looking at her expectantly—but Josephine felt the hint of a smile. This man possessed a dangerous amount of charm, and knew how to wield it.

“Thank you, Mr. Daniel, for that most gallant attempt to help me save face, and to change my mind, but—”

“How about I throw in a free bottle of good Old No. 7 every last Friday of the month, just for kindness sake?”

She gave a half-hearted laugh. “That would not qualify as an incentive from my viewpoint. You see, I’m a—”

“Teetotaler,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Just like our good Miss Mary.”

Josephine hesitated.

“Oh yes.” He wagged a finger. “Miss Mary Bobo doesn’t allow alcohol under her roof. Not a drop. And if she catches you imbibing?” He slashed a finger across his throat. “You’re gone and done for. Tossed into the street with everything you own. No, ma’am, don’t cross Miss Mary in that regard. She has no tolerance for it.”

“And yet, you have a seat at her table. In her home.”

He frowned. “Miss Mary and I may not see eye to eye on every little thing—”

“That’s a pretty big thing.”

He seemed to weigh that comment. “Not particularly. I respect her boundaries and she respects mine.”

“So . . .” She recalled their initial meeting in the library. “You weren’t enjoying a little Old No. 7, as you call it, last night? During your visit with Ben-Hur?”

His frown deepened, then awareness moved into his eyes. “No, ma’am, I was not. When I am in Miss Mary’s home, I abide by her wishes. But interesting that you jumped to that conclusion.”

Josephine winced. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that—”

“Oh, I think you did.” His smile returned. “As I said, Mrs. Dunham, I prize bluntness. I loathe trying to figure out what someone’s thinking. Which is one reason why I esteem Miss Mary like I do. And not to toot my own horn, but I believe she holds a similar opinion of me. Hence, why she sent you here today. She knows you need a job, and she knows I need a bookkeeper. Which brings us full circle again, doesn’t it?”

Feeling put in her place, yet knowing she was in the right on the alcohol issue, Josephine offered a slight nod. “It does, Mr. Daniel. And while I sincerely appreciate your offer, I cannot work for you. Or more rightly, for your distillery. Because to state it bluntly—” She knew this would sever any future ties with the man, but preferred to go ahead and tell him herself rather than have him hear the truth from Dodge Coburn. What a laugh they would share together later. “I’m not only a teetotaler, I am a suffragist. I’ve vowed to champion temperance, abolition, the rights of labor, and equal pay for equal work. I believe everyone is equal under God. Men and women.”

He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, smiling. “I had you pegged, didn’t I? You are one for the rule books.”

She lifted her chin. “It was we, the people—not we, the male citizens, nor we, the white male citizens—but we, the whole people, who formed this Union. And we formed it, not to give the blessings of liberty, but to secure them. And not to the half of ourselves and the half of our posterity, but to the whole people—women as well as men.”

To her surprise, he began to clap.

“Well done, Mrs. Dunham. Is that your own speech? Or someone else’s?”

Josephine briefly looked away. “I’ve long admired Miss Susan B. Anthony’s courage and dedication, and have heard her speak on occasion.”

“Ah, yes . . . Miss Anthony. I’ve read about her. Quite a stiff debater, I hear, even so advanced in years. But the problem is, Mrs. Dunham . . . I agree with everything you’ve just said. Men, women, equality, black, white. I’m right there with you.”