The Bachelor Tax

The female answered with assurance. “I’m neither cook nor dishwasher, Jason. You’re just lucky I’m good-natured, or I wouldn’t be helpin’ out.”

“And you’re lucky I’m payin’ you good money for sashayin’ your fanny across that stage, Laura Lee. Most places, you’d be workin’ for tips from your gentlemen friends out front.”

“Go take care of your customers, sweetie. I’ll bring your glasses out in a minute,” the woman’s voice replied.

Rosemary lifted her hand to rap again.

“You’ll have to pound harder, miss. They can’t hear above the noise, lessen you bang good and loud.” The voice from behind her spun Rosemary in place. She staggered as her injured ankle gave way, and her hand grasped for purchase on the shoulder of the young boy facing her.

“You startled me,” she croaked. “I thought I was alone here.”

He grinned widely, tugging his cap from his head. “I don’t make no noise, ma’am. I been watchin’ you, and I figured you needed some advice.”

Before Rosemary could utter a word of protest, his fist made contact with the door three times, each thump hard enough to rattle the hinges. She looked around, anxious lest anyone should see her in such a place, and was about to make her escape when the door creaked open.

“See, what’d I tell you?” the boy asked, his grin visible in the light streaming from the open doorway.

“Ma’am?” The golden-haired woman inside the building appeared to take Rosemary’s measure. Her lips curled in a smile of amusement and she swept her hand in welcome. “Come on in, why don’t you? No sense in standin’ around outside. You come to see old Jason? Or maybe to convert the customers?”

Rosemary stepped within the doorway, casting a glance behind her for the youth who had hastened this moment. He was gone, not even a shadow betraying his presence.

“You’re the preacher’s girl, aren’t you?” the woman asked.

Rosemary nodded, assailed by the scent of hard drink and heavy perfume. “I wanted to talk to the owner, Mr. Stillwell, if he’s available.”

“He’s at the bar,” the blond woman told her. “I’m Laura Lee, his…” She smiled, then waved her hand in Rosemary’s direction. “I work here, honey. What do you need with Jason?”

The door across the room swung open and a dark-haired man strode in, the noise from behind him assailing Rosemary’s ears with a harsh symphony of sound. “Where in hell’s those glasses, Laura Lee? I need them now.”

He halted abruptly when he saw Rosemary, and his brows rose in question. “Didn’t know we had company,” he said slowly.

“I’ll get the glasses,” Laura Lee told him, turning to the sink. “The young lady wants to see you, Jason.”

Jason moved closer to Rosemary. “Last time I saw you, you was walkin’ behind your daddy’s coffin on the way to the cemetery. You’re a long way from the parsonage, ma’am.”

“I wanted to see you, Mr. Stillwell, and I thought this might be the best time. I hesitated to come to your business establishment during the day.”

He nodded, and then, as if he had just remembered his manners, he pulled a chair from the table and offered her a seat. Rosemary settled herself on the edge of the chair, aware of the sidelong looks she was receiving from Laura Lee, who splashed water from the stove into a dishpan.

Rosemary leaned forward, hoping she would not sound too much like a beggar asking for alms. “I need a job, Mr. Stillwell, and I heard that you were looking for an accountant to do your books. I’m very good with figures, sir, and I desperately need work. I thought I might be able to—”

Jason held up a hand, halting her effectively. “You want to work for me, ma’am? I don’t think so.” He grinned widely. “I’d have every woman in town after my head if I were to take you on in any way, shape or form. Surely a lady like you can find respectable work without having to knock on my back door.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Rosemary said glumly. “But, I’ve been everywhere in town that might need help, and no one has a position open.”

“Your daddy didn’t leave you too well fixed, did he?”

“No. He truly thought he had years ahead of him to see to my future. There was only a little money in the bank, and the funeral took a good share of that. I need to find work and a place to live.” She cast him a look of chagrin. “Believe me, I looked everywhere else first. I still can’t believe I had the nerve to come here. You were my last resort.”

Laura Lee sashayed past with the tray of wet glasses, and leaned down to whisper loudly in Jason’s ear. “You could always use a new singer, Jason. Bet she has a repertoire that’d set your customers on their ear.”

“Don’t give the lady a hard time, Laura Lee,” he said with a chuckle, one wide palm swatting the blond’s ruffled skirt as she passed the table and went on through the swinging door.

“I need a bookkeeper, sure enough, Miss Gibson, but it’s a job for a man. Besides, you know I wouldn’t dare hire you. I only stay in business by the skin of my teeth as it is, what with half the women in town wantin’ to close me down.”

“They do?”

Jason leaned closer. “They don’t approve of their husbands coming in for a drink or a hand of cards, let alone climbin’ the stairs to visit—” He frowned. “I don’t think you need to hear that, ma’am.”

Rosemary felt a flush creep up her throat and splash color on her cheeks. “I understand, sir.” She rose and clutched her reticule before her. “It was sort of a last chance, coming here.”

“I wish I could help, ma’am. If I hear of anything, I’ll get a message to you.”

Rosemary groped for the doorknob behind her and twisted it, tugging the door open quickly. “Thank you, Mr. Stillwell. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“No bother, ma’am. You be careful going home, you hear?” He watched her, stepping out into the alley as she made her way from sight.

“You get a job, ma’am?” From the shadows behind the hotel, a slight figure stepped forth. In the moonlight, he exhibited a cheerful smile, sweeping his cap from his head politely.

Things were going poorly when a grimy scallywag possessed the friendliest face in town, Rosemary decided. At least, the most welcoming smile she’d been offered today. The rejection she’d received from Samuel Westcott was no easier to accept because it had been delivered with a tight-lipped smile. And the grim refusal of Duncan Blackstone at the newspaper office had left her with nothing but a sense of failure.

Even Pip had found it hard to smile when she turned down Rosemary for a position. The banker, Pace Frombert, had only shaken his head disapprovingly, as if a woman inside his establishment was not to be considered, unless she was a customer.

At least Jason Stillwell had been kindly in his refusal.

“Well, at least you’re still smilin’,” the boy before her said cheerfully. “I was afraid you’d need me close by, ma’am. That’s why I hung around till you came out.”

Rosemary looked down at him gravely. “I do appreciate your thoughtfulness, young man. You’re the Pender boy, aren’t you? Your name’s Scat, if I remember correctly.” She glanced over his shoulder at the houses that lined the back street of town. “Won’t your father be concerned about your whereabouts? It’s been dark for a long time.”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. My pa’s got a bottle, and he don’t care where I am.” He stepped back and motioned to the footpath. “I’ll walk you home, if you want me to.”

Rosemary nodded. There wasn’t anywhere else to go, and James Worth and his family would probably be wondering where she had gotten to, leaving the way she had.

“All right. Thank you,” Rosemary said, stepping ahead of the lad.

Hopelessness surrounded her as she trudged the path, turning in at the gate to the parsonage and lifting a hand to wave at Scat. She could not, in all good conscience, stay any longer with the Worth family. They had been kind and generous, but the parsonage was crowded.

“Don’t you have family, Miss Gibson?” James Worth had asked only this evening at the supper table.

“No. I have no one.”

“Well, you are welcome here,” he’d answered staunchly, even as his wife had lifted her brows as if to doubt his offer.

Rosemary stepped onto the porch, crossed to the door and opened the screen, smiling as the tight spring announced her arrival with a twang. She stepped into the parlor, nodding at Mr. and Mrs. Worth.

“I’ll be going to bed now. Thank you again for the lovely meal, Mrs. Worth,” she said quietly.

She made her way to the bedroom she had once called her own. Now a small girl lay sprawled in the double bed and Rosemary carefully edged her past the middle, making room for herself.