Maisey ambled out of the back door, shutting it quietly behind her. Pressing her back against it, she inhaled deeply; sucking in deep lungfuls of crisp fall Colorado air. By Lordy, she thought, holding in vomit that wanted to explode from her mouth. Been dreamin’ so bad about getting buried alive or eaten by wolves lately I thought I was gonna die for a moment.

Being her first week of employment at the Whitman Hotel, she didn’t want to start it off by being sick or appearing she was. How horrid of her if she floundered Lena’s recommendation at her working there. She needed this job to earn enough money and go away, someplace west like California or Oregon.

Maisey took tentative steps away from the back door further into the fresh air and straightened her green calico dress. She glanced to the sky, watching the light dismal gray of pre-dawn slowly fade to give way to the glorious sunrise. A cluster of clouds hung overhead, being pushed away east with the wind.

Tugging the beige shawl tighter over her shoulders, she strode away from Lena’s Doves and toward the looming Whitman Hotel a bit down the hill. Oddly for such a cool climate, fall was bringing in a lot more people to Denver than Maisey thought was wise. But everyone wanted to either stake claim on a nice piece of ranch property or to find the last bit of golden wealth hidden in the rocks and streams before the deep snows trapped them indoors at the ranch or to the hotel.

It was lucky she got hired on at the Whitman Hotel. A laundry position had opened the week before she’d rolled into town. Rumor had it the other lady had left to work the family farm in Nebraska. Not that it was any of her business, but it was harmless gossip and she wasn’t above little tidbits. Especially when one of those tidbits had been the very thing to help her turn her life around. The Whitman Hotel was respectable, kindly; and the owner albeit a bit on the over jovial side, was tenderhearted and fair.

I got so lucky, she thought. Turning my life around just when I swore I was at the end of it.

Maisey let out a long breath, sucking in the cold, crisp air with relish. Somehow, the cold air always seemed to calm her rattling nerves. She glanced around at the slow to wake city of Denver. Horses moved groggily in the streets, taking their just-as-sluggish owners places that weren’t even open yet.

Rounding the corner to enter the hotel from the back, her eye caught sight of Ross, opening the stable doors. His wife, Mary, large with child, chatted his ear off about who knows what. All the while, Ross nodded and offered a comment here and there. It was endearing to watch how loving and natural they were together. Lately Mary’s speech was full of fear that her child would be dim because she swore she wasn’t too bright. No matter how many times anyone assured her the child would be fine, and that Mary was indeed bright, Mary couldn’t seem to let the topic die.

Maisey smiled softly at them, turning away to continue toward the hotel. Already people were chatting outside on the bench, drinking their morning coffee before the chores started for the day. Their voices carried down the hill to her ears. Lanterns hung outside the door, providing a shadowy-yellow light illuminating those around it in a soft glow.

Eliza, the new hotel manager, sipped her coffee with a shy smile while the two ornery cooks spoke about what meals to make for today’s specials. Audrey was already busy talking animatedly to Eliza, waving her hands about as she paced back and forth about getting ready for the holidays months away.

“We need to find a huge tree!” Audrey exclaimed.

“Mrs. Turner,” Eliza said softly, “the tree last year hardly fit through the doors let alone inside.”

“Wasn’t it positively grand!” Audrey clapped gleefully. “And the party was superb as well. I cannot wait to have another this year, even better than last, especially with all the new hires. I haven’t seen Katherine-”

“Kitty,” Eliza corrected though Audrey did not notice.

“In some time. I wonder if she is sick. Poor Mary looks ready to burst. Have you heard the news that Madame Comtois is pregnant? Poor dear has been having terrible dreams.”

Maisey smiled at the women, double checking her mousey brown hair had no wispy fly-away strands as she approached them all. She glanced behind her to see if Lena or even Kitty was around. Both ladies had yet to make an appearance. Her lips curved down slightly at the missed moral support. Audrey was sweet but a bit much at times. Sucking in a deep breath, Maisey made her way toward the women.

“Good mornin’ Maisey,” Audrey greeted merrily. “You know you’re welcome to move into the employee bedrooms if you’d like,” the hotel owner offered.

“Much appreciated, ma’am,” Maisey replied softly. “I will do so this evening.”

Audrey clapped her hands merrily. “Oh perfect! Then you will truly be a part of the Whitman Hotel family. It will be so grand for you!”

Maisey offered a tight smile. For days now the hotel owner had pestered about her moving out of Lena’s Dove’s. To her though, it was a place of security; where she swore to herself, she would make the right changes in her life and she wouldn’t screw it up. Leaving it terrified her. It was Heaven to be able to be somewhere free of disgrace and prejudice. Moving out and into the hotel seemed a bit rushed in her mind, though she appreciated the thoughtfulness of making her feel welcome since she started a week ago.

Audrey smiled, linking her arm with Maisey’s like she would run away. “Well, as you probably know, most of the ladies here have up and married. Unless you can think of anyone I’ve missed?” she paused, perking an eyebrow at the other ladies in the kitchen.

Claudia leaned back in her seat, “Right you are, lass.”

Unphased, Audrey continued, “Right. So Maisey, I can’t offer you a roommate, but I do have a cute, cozy little room with its own vanity and easy access to the washroom. It’s yours if you’re serious about moving into the hotel. Save you a little time and a cold walk when the weather turns,” she smiled, and turned her best pleading eyes toward Maisey.

The hefty cook rocked forward and rose to her feet, making for the door leading inside the hotel. “Come on old woman, let’s get the stoves fired up,” Claudia called to Ada.

“Who’re you calling old, you’re just around the corner from death,” Ada scoffed with a smile.

Claudia snorted, shaking her head with a grin. “Age before beauty, dear.”

Both women cackled like hens in a roost, entering the security of the Whitman Hotel.

“I will move in,” Maisey said quietly. “Thank you, Audrey.” Maisey made for the door behind them. Even though she had been working here nigh on a week, she loathed the feeling of being an outsider. Claudia made her feel unwelcome, like she was something to be spit on. The hotel owner and others made her feel accepted. Whenever she entered the kitchen, just her, Claudia would make a comment about her or to her face. If anyone overheard it, Claudia was put in her place, though Maisey did her best to ignore it and the old mean cook.

Maisey made straight for the front desk, checking who was about to vacate a room for her to clean and launder. So far only two rooms, but it changed so often it wasn’t a big dilemma if she happened to have more rooms to clean and launder. Typically, she was done early with her laundry items and went to help in the kitchen prepping food, sweeping the dining area or whatever else needed to be done.

“Mornin’ Mai.”

Looking up and turning to her left she noticed Kitty coming in through the front door. A man followed in behind her, ogling her swaying backside. Maisey refrained from rolling her eyes, opting for a shy smile and a wave.

Since being a part of Lena’s Dove’s and getting her life back on track, Kitty had a few mishaps in committing to a better life. And she is woefully about to make another on her day off, Maisey internally groaned.

The man approached the counter, fiddling with his long pencil thin mustache and grinning coyly at her while Kitty stood on the other side of the man.

“The manager will be out momentarily,” Maisey said, turning on her heel toward the kitchen.

On cue, Eliza came from around the corner hustling toward the front at an almost sprint. Eliza perked a questioning brow that Maisey ignored. The man made her uncomfortable. Eliza smiled warmly, greeting the guest and taking over the possible accommodations.

“Wonderful,” the man replied, his voice dark and sultry.

Maisey felt her cheeks warm. With a polite dip of her head, she scuttled off toward the back of the hotel.

Kitty remined with the man, making a fool of herself as she fawned all over him, draping herself on his arm, batting her eyes and tittering at everything he said. Maisey shook her head, walking quickly into the kitchen. She had to get rooms upstairs cleaned and bedding pulled for laundry. But with creepy guy in the hotel, her skin still crawling from his perusal, she didn’t want to clean the room alone.

Claudia eyed her from her spot in the kitchen along the back wall by a stove, stirring a large pot of something. “What’s the matter?” she asked, perking a suspicious brow.

“There is a strange gentleman outside with Kitty. I don’t want to pull bedding alone.”

Claudia scoffed. “Figured you would be used to such things by now.”

“Damnation Claudia!” Mary barked from the sink. “You’re about as nice as a cactus sometimes,” the pregnant woman seethed, waving a dirty ladle at her.

“That’s not what I meant,” Claudia heated at being called out for her callousness. “Since her… dealings, I figured the lass would know how to conduct herself around the matter.”

Mary perked a blonde brow. “You old horny toad, that ain’t whatcha meant and your ‘splantion ain’t much better,” Mary slammed the dirty dish in the sink. “I’ll go with you Maisey.”

“No,” Lena said firmly from the dining room doorway, her eyes glaring daggers at Claudia, “I will. You don’t need to be doing those stairs Mary.”

The blonde woman nodded, going back to her sink full of dishes, mumbling under her breath about the old cook. Claudia turned around, barking orders at Ada to make cookies and scones. The other cook winked at Maisey, offering a kind smile. Maisey on the other hand, felt her cheeks flame hotter than the kitchen itself with the embarrassment at Claudia’s comments.

“Thank you, Lena,” Maisey said quietly.

Lena held the door open, “Don’t let that old spoony get to you. She’s always been unpleasant.”

Maisey smiled. “I just want to start my life over,” she breathed, sucking back in tears that wanted to fall. “Is it so terrible I want to forget and put it behind me?”

Lena embraced her. “Absolutely not. We all need a fresh start. Even Claudia once. She just had a different type of past she chooses to forget. You and I had to go through similar situations. It doesn’t make us horrid people.”

Maisey pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Thank you, Lena, for the fresh start and for everything. I appreciate it,” she replied in a soft voice.

Lena let her go, holding her back at arm’s length. “You’re welcome. Let’s go pull bedding. Then I will help you get the laundry water going.”

Maisey led the way up the staircase and to the right where the basic rooms were. Her heart felt slightly lighter thanks to Lena. However, her gut still swirled uncertainly.

“Hogan Buchannan,” his mother’s shrill voice bellowed in the mansion home. “Colorado is filthy. How degrading for you to adventure there! Please pick a more suitable location like St. Louis or Philadelphia or even Boston, where there are charming activities.”

Hogan breathed out irritably. The only reason his mother wanted him not to adventure to Colorado was it was the season – where every available puppy-eyed woman would be vying for his hand in marriage. They all had grandiose ideas and their eyes on his money. He had no desire to be stuck with a brainless, narcissistic, dramatic wife. He was tired of the game. Absolutely sick of dealing with the upper-class snobbish society his mother and older brothers coveted.

Evette Buchannan stood before him in the parlor, brown eyes shining like she could cry at any moment. Her ebony hair fell in perfect ringlets over her right shoulder. The heavy black fabric she wore in mourning of his father appeared heavy upon her dwarfish frame.

He felt sorry for the woman. Only she loved his father unconditionally. The man was a cad; but now, since his passing three months prior, Evette had been even more possessive of him and downright clingy, like a wart on a nose. It annoyed him immensely. One of the reasons why Colorado appealed to him was Colorado was so far away from his three older brothers, their brainless wives, and their lucrative, albeit, supercilious lives.

The land he would be surveying for himself would be for a mountain home complete with cattle and a life he was envious of - simple and humble. The only thing missing was a woman by his side to join him on the adventure. He hoped to find one in Colorado. The women here in New York didn’t have a humble bone in their corseted bodies.

“Mother, I will not be gone for long,” Hogan replied. “I’m surveying land for purchase. Then I will come back, make arrangements and move there.”

Evette pressed the back of her hand to her head and collapsed in a chair. “Land for purchase! Move there! My dear son, you're leaving me a lonely old woman. How dare you do so unmarried and without a child to carry on the Buchannan legacy! You could perish out there in the ghastly wild.”

Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose then put a hand to his head, moving his somewhat long brown hair out of the way from falling into his eyes. His three older brothers all had children or babies on the way to carry on an ill begotten legacy.

“Mother, I hope to bring a wife with me when I come back to make arrangements,” Hogan declared, heading for the door. “I shall be back before April.”

Evette burst into tears. “That’s next year! How dare you vex me so. I will be dead by then. I just know it,” she sighed dramatically, flopping herself over in the chair sideways with her head hanging over the side of the chair.

Hogan bit back a laugh at the comical display. He was sure his mother could outlive anything by sheer stubbornness and drama alone. Or if in fact she couldn’t, he was then certain the grim reaper himself wouldn’t desire to put up with her antics and ensure she’d come back to life.

“Mother,” he said evenly. “I want to come back to you as a married man. The ladies here in New York are lovely but…”

Evette cut him off. “They are educated, refined, and their families are wealthy. Hogan, what more could you ask for? Bella Monte Barea is a lovely woman who would make you a most suitable wife.”

Hogan’s lips thinned. “I’m doing this, Mother,” he stated, becoming more exasperated by the moment. “I will write.”

“Fine, leave me to rot here and wither for all I care,” she cried, carrying on.

Hogan snuck out of the parlor, making a hasty line to the foyer of the mansion home. Picking up his travelling suitcase, he exited, hoping to make it to the train before it departed.

He checked his pocket watch, noting the time. It was a brisk walk from his mother’s mansion to the train station about a mile or so away; just the thing he needed to focus his mind.

For months, he had been contemplating leaving New York for the adventures he read about in the Sunday papers describing the scenery and wilderness of a place called Colorado – where there was an otherworldly richness that seeped into the bones of man, creating a fever to stay tied to the land.

His three older brothers loved the soft life, their cushy homes and beautiful wives and the business their father left to them in his passing. He wanted none of it. He gave his portion of the business to his brothers, forsaking his stake in the family inheritance earned through brokering and quiet business scandals; opting for a more fulfilling life as a rancher with the land his father bought long ago and gifted to him by his eldest brother Hector.

And if I use my part of what is left to me to make it happen, so be it, Hogan decided. I will do my best to make it work. And through the sales and butchering of the cattle I raise, I plan to donate a portion of profit to charity.

Glancing across the street, he looked both ways then crossed. The bustle of New York grated on his nerves with each step toward his destination. He couldn’t arrive at the train fast enough.

His mind mulled over the last conversation he had with his brothers a week ago. His eldest brother Hector called him a most egregious dolt for wanting to be out of New York and so far west, away from family; going on to say Boston or even Richmond would be preferable over the vast expanse of Colorado. Hogan only smiled at his brother, taking it as a compliment that he wanted to do something more with his life. His middle twin brothers, Noah and Nyle, congratulated him on finally deciding to do something with his life other than moping around town and being irritable.

He wouldn’t have dared to speak of such things with his father. The man would have walloped him even as an adult into submission then saddled him with some woman he brokered a deal for, like a disgusting slave-like arranged marriage. Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

The train up ahead whistled, signaling an impending departure. Hogan dashed for it. The sooner he got out of New York for good, the better.

Maisey sat in the dining room side of the Whitman Hotel, eating some toast and sipping coffee in the quiet mid-morning. The restaurant hadn’t opened yet, even though it should have hours ago. Ada was busy, bustling to get everything ready by herself.

Claudia was missing. The old woman hadn’t shown up for work. It would be the first time in almost thirty years working here. Since this was so out of character for the sour woman, Audrey sent her husband Eugene out to find her. Lena’s husband Quint joined in the search.

Lena sat across from her, sipping her coffee and nibbling on a scone Ada had just pulled out of the oven. “I’m worried,” she finally said. “Claudia’s husband is a drunk.”

Maisey nodded. Her dealings with Claudia were always terse, bordering on hateful and unpleasant. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the woman, though she felt a touch of sympathy for her. Maisey kept quiet, nodding when appropriate.

She fiddled with her cup, twirling it around in the saucer. Her mind wandered back to yesterday’s conversation. Claudia was correct when she’d said that Maisey should be used to those looks and vulgarity by now. In her previous life, it wouldn’t have bothered her. She would have said or done, and did, anything to get the money and steal more if she could. She had no shame in survival, the world around her, however, saw it all in a different light.

Now, being offered a new start, she wasn’t ashamed of what she had done. That was the past and where it stayed. She was ashamed to be constantly reminded of it. Turning a new leaf was supposed to be fulfilling, not damaging or degrading. Maisey bit back a cough that was trying to be something more like vomiting. Everything lately upset her stomach so, she felt like retching.

She wanted a new life, a new start and an eventual husband. She wanted a life to be proud of. Burn the past, but protect the future, her father once said. Maisey never understood what he meant until she began anew here at the hotel.

I have to protect the future by doing right by myself; to do everything in my power to make it good, she decided. Starting with myself and what I decide to do every day.

The door jingled announcing a sullen Eugene and Quint. Each man trudged toward their respective wives. Eugene didn’t make it far through the door before Audrey leapt at him, putting her arms around the back of his head and kissing his cheek. Quint saddled up beside Lena, kissing her forehead tenderly. Lena laced her fingers in with Quint’s bear paw of a hand.

Maisey felt her body swirl with envy. She wanted what Lena had. She pressed the coffee cup to her lips, acting like she wasn’t observing their tender moment.

“Claudia died,” Eugene announced, sullenly. Audrey immediately unwrapped herself from Eugene, taking a step back with her hand to her mouth.

“Oh dear!” Audrey exclaimed.

Eugene nodded. “She passed peacefully in her sleep. Claudia’s husband Struan, the damned drunk, cannot make a decision. I have handled her final affairs for him. She is to be buried tomorrow.”

Maisey glanced about the room. Everyone’s heads were hanging low, but no one cried. Maisey bit her bottom lip, holding back a hiccup that burned in the back of her throat.

Ada came out of the kitchen, her face hot and flustered. “Where’s—” she stopped when she saw the sadness on everyone’s faces and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh dear!”

Audrey put her hands on her hips. “This is a tragedy,” she began, her voice constricting. “Claudia had been a part of the Whitman Hotel since it’s very opening thirty-four years ago,” she patted under her eyes with the tips of her fingers.

The somberness of the room sent chills down Maisey’s spine. It seemed everyone was saddened by Claudia’s spontaneous death, but no one cried. It was like the sorrow was expected to happen yet no one truly grieved.

Eugene cleared his throat. “Do what you can today everyone and save the rest for tomorrow,” he said, pulling his wife into his chest.

“I need help,” Ada cried from the swinging doorway. “We’re supposed to be open.”

“I will help,” Maisey replied softly. “I can cook. My ma used to own a bakery.”

Ada’s bright smile reached her eyes. “Let’s get cookin’.”

“Whatcha think we’ve been doin’, makin’ slop or somethin’,” Mary said, waddling out of the kitchen behind Ada. “Why ya’ll so glum lookin’? Someone die?”

Lena put the back of her hand to her mouth, turning into Quint to hide a grin. Maisey sucked in her cheeks, holding back a smile.

“Claudia passed in the night,” Eugene explained.

“Oh,” Mary replied, her brows raised and cheeks heating. “My condo—” she paused, scowling, “sympathies.”

Maisey pushed in her chair, taking the coffee cup, saucer and her empty plate with her into the kitchen. Ada went back into the kitchen, mumbling about the chaos this now put her in. Mary stood to the side rolling her eyes. Maisey smiled. Out of all the people at the Whitman Hotel, Lena and Mary were by far her most favorite people.

Maisey set her soiled dishes in the sink then grabbed an apron. Ada sighed, staring at her as she did so.

“Alright,” Maisey began, in a firm yet soft voice, “what do we have to work with?”

Ada sighed. “I’m sorry Maisey,” the older woman began, “I’m a touch flustered.”

“It’s ok. Let’s make quiches. Those are simple and yummy. Plus, we have the left-over ham from yesterday’s dinner.”

Ada nodded.

Taking charge, Maisey flitted about the kitchen getting supplies ready to make today’s breakfast special. Her stomach swirled, suddenly not liking her simple breakfast and wanted to release its contents. Maisey sucked it all back inside. This was her chance to prove to herself and to everyone at the hotel, she could make something better of her life. And shine she would.

“Ada, please dice some potatoes and stick them in a pot to boil, but not overly so. I want them fork tender so we can season with butter, pepper and some oregano,” Maisey instructed. “Mary, go have a seat, please.”

“Maisey,” Lena called from the swinging door, “how long until we’re good to open?”

“Thirty minutes.”

Maisey got out the largest pie dishes she could and filled them each with some quiche batter. Getting her hands busy in the kitchen kept her mind from reminiscing of the life she had before Colorado; a sweet, loving life with her mother. It didn’t keep her mind occupied for long.

As she worked, memories of cooking in the morning with her mother at the family restaurant in Richmond flooded her mind’s eye. Her mother, a beautiful brunette with large honied eyes and a warm smile, would cook all manners of delicious food, specializing her talent in baking. People would flock to the restaurant on Sunday afternoons for a taste of her delectable pastries she only made on the Lord’s Day.

Maisey sniffed at the memory. Her sweet mother died at work from a pain in her chest. Her father, utterly heartbroken, drowned himself in misery and took out his anger at his wife’s passing on her – a ugly stained mark on a well-bred family – her father once said. Little did Maisey know at the time, her mother had an affair and conceived her.

She left Richmond shortly after her mother’s burial, opting for whatever life three hundred fifty dollars would get her instead of staying and enduring her father’s anger. One train ticket later and she was in Denver with not much to her name. Shortly after arriving, events took place and forced her to make a decision.

Maisey shuddered. And because I needed money for food and shelter, I’d lowered myself the lowest I could go. I was already ruined. How much lower could I get? she sniffed. Shaking her head, she slid the quiches into the hot oven. God Bless my mother, she passed on before she got to see what kind of woman I became since leaving Richmond.

“Potatoes are on,” Ada called.

Maisey snapped herself back to attention, putting a hand to her head. “Thank you, Ada,” she replied. “One moment, I will be right back.”

Dashing out of the kitchen, she made for the back door where the employee area outside. She burst out the door and made headlong away from the hotel toward a small line of trees just beyond the benches. Doubling over, she spilled her stomach onto the cold manicured ground.

Sucking in a breath, Maisey stood. She refused to turn around as she felt someone approach her. The tingling awareness of them was drowned out as another wave of nausea overtook her. Someone rubbed her back, humming a soft tune.

“We’ll get through this,” Lena’s calm voice said.

Maisey burst into tears. She wiped her eyes as she stared at her stomach and what she suspected grew inside. At first, she assumed she had a stomach bug since the seasons were changing and with it, different weather, but with no fever or chills, it made her believe her nausea was of the procreating kind.

“Thank you,” she sniffed, patting her hair back off her face and taking a deep breath. “Breakfast will be done shortly.”

“You wanna—”

“No,” Maisey replied, cutting her off. “I need to work through it. Keeps my mind…”

“Alright,” Lena said, putting a gentle hand on her back. “Let’s get breakfast service done.”

Maisey strode back toward the door with her head held high. She sniffed, struggling to hold back the tears piled at the edges of her lashes. With each blink brought fresh tears that refused to stay in her eyes, trickled down her cheeks.

Lena pulled on her arm. Turning around, Lena’s hands swiped away her tears with sisterly affection.

“It’s alright,” Lena whispered, wrapping Maisey in an embrace. “It’s going to be just fine, you’ll see.”

Maisey nodded, not trusting her voice. She had had her suspicions. And with Audrey mentioning her friend had terrible dreams since becoming pregnant; well, this morning only confirmed it all. Now her chances at a happily ever after relied on God and a miracle.

“Thank you,” Maisey began faintly, clearing her throat of the restriction of emotions. “Lena… Thank you.”

Turning on her heel, Maisey went back to the kitchen where Ada mumbled under her breath and Mary perked a suspicious brow.

Work now, personal later, Maisey thought with a sigh. And a plan.

Maisey sat outside behind the Whitman Hotel on the bench with her head in her hands. The urge to cry overwhelmed her. She couldn’t fight back the tears behind her eyes, allowing them to roll freely down her cheeks.

The supper rush had long since finished. Kitchen was cleaned, specials were picked out for tomorrow and Leonard at the mercantile was already contacted about the food needed for tomorrow morning. In all, it was a busy day and she was grateful for the busyness as it kept her mind and emotions occupied.

Now, in the stillness, the quiet allowed her mind to wander and panic invaded. Her position had officially been moved from laundry to taking Claudia’s old position as lead since Ada didn’t want the stress of all the planning. Audrey was informed of her condition. Fortunately for her, the kindly woman told her to work until she felt like she needed to stop. And then the job would be hers when she wanted to come back after baby was born. So money, gratefully would not be an issue.

Maisey shivered. What am I to do? her mind cried. Tears splattered in her hands. Before she caught herself, wracking sobs overcame her. You poor child, she thought, I’m sorry to have wronged you so, she sniffed.

“Hey Mai,” Kitty greeted with a smile. “Have you moved into the employee bedroom yet?”

Maisey shook her head. “Don’t know if it’s a good idea now.”

Kitty nodded. “I believe it is. You’re closer to the washroom.”

Maisey let out a breathy laugh. “You’re right.”

“And… I will be with you. It’s all going to be alright,” the red-haired woman said.

All she could do was nod. Maisey wasn’t positive everything was going to be alright. She wasn’t sure how it would end for her child. In all her worries, the life of her unborn caused her the most apprehension. She did not want her child to be mistreated or wanted for naught because of her actions one night.

Maisey wrapped her arms around herself. “Thank you, Kitty.”

“Come on,” her friend said, rising to her feet. “Let’s get you packed up.”

Maisey didn’t want to stand just yet. Her stomach swirled angrily, like her child agreed with her remarks about being unfair. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Maisey wiped them away with an irked swipe of her hand.

“In a moment,” Maisey replied.

“All right. I’m going to head inside and unpack my things. Call if you need me.”

She nodded.

What she wanted was to be left alone. Everything in her hurt. Her heart felt heavy. If her mother was around, everything would have been alright. She would have had a different outcome, possibly taken over the family restaurant and been married to a kindly, and handsome man.

Maisey slowly rose to her feet, trudging down the worn pathway to Lena’s Dove’s. The moon slowly poked out beyond some gray low-lying clouds. Stars began dotting the sky with bright brilliance. Maisey paused, gazing at the stars and the full harvest moon closing her eyes.

“Mama used to say the stars were angels watching down over us, protecting us at night,” she whispered, putting a hand on her stomach. Maisey glanced down, staring at her stomach. A calmness overcame her and a decision was made. “I will do all I can right by you, Little One. My interaction will not be your downfall or burden.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, she continued toward Lena’s Dove’s in the beautiful moonlight. The small little sanctuary saved her. Not many places were for women like her. Not many places gave women like her a chance to start new and fresh with a job, clothes and respectable wages, but the hotel did.

Maisey turned up the hill, pulling her beige shawl tighter over her shoulders. The brisk fall air felt refreshing on her skin but biting cold when she inhaled deeply. Snow, she swore, would be falling any day now. It was like Colorado skipped fall and went right into winter between the fast-changing leaves and biting cold.

She glanced behind her, spying a train chug in late to the station. She paused, watching the people and eager faces exit the train. Lanterns around the train faintly illuminated the locomotive and the wooden platform. Steam billowed out from underneath, casting the locomotive and its travelers in a mysterious fog. A man in a dark suit was the last to exit. Maisey turned up the hill, continuing to the refuge of Lena’s sanctuary home.

“Maisey,” Lena called from behind her.

Maisey turned around, a wan smile on her lips. “Hello, Lena, Quint,” she greeted.

With Lena on Quint’s arm, they came toward her smiling. She waited to the side for them to catch up to her; wrapping her shawl tighter around her arms.

Quint tipped his hat to her. “Evenin’ Maisey,” he greeted. “Excellent cookin’ tonight.”