He shook his head. “Someone saw Rosie call you, and they’re saying she’s the one that called the police.”
Julia shook her head and then smiled. “And you’re here to defend her. That’s awfully kind of you, Walter. She’ll appreciate that.” Her brows tugged together in a frown. “I didn’t think you took criminal cases. Thought you specialize in business deals.”
A hint of guilt struck him because he hadn’t considered Rosie might need an attorney. But that gave him the perfect reason for being here. “I don’t want to see anyone railroaded. I’ll represent Rosie and all three of those other women.” He looked at her house. “They are all here, aren’t they?”
Julia never blinked an eye as she said, “No.”
Shirley tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she leaned back against the side of the cabin and watched the sun rise. It was almost as if she wasn’t really watching it, but like someone else was, someone using her body. Someone who was so relieved to wake up this morning and not have to go downstairs and schlep drinks all day that they didn’t really care what that truly meant.
Instead, they were focused on how orange the sky was, how the big yellow ball barely peeking up over the horizon made those tall palm trees look black. They were unique trees. Unlike any she’d ever seen. There were other trees around the small cabin. Pines and hardwoods that dried out once cut and split and made good, hot fires. Pine was better for starting fires. Everyone knew that.
There wasn’t a cloud in that big orange sky and she wondered what that meant out here. A red sky in the morning back home meant a weather change. She wasn’t sure if red and orange were interchangeable out here or not. Nothing she’d thought she’d known about California had been true as of yet.
She hadn’t been here all that long, but had to admit, she was mighty disappointed by it so far.
Mighty disappointed.
That other person inside her, the one who’d been focused on watching the sun rise, slowly slipped away and Shirley let out a long sigh. The gal who had driven the car last night, Julia, had sent them all out here to this little cabin. Rita and Alice, as well as redheaded Rosie, were inside. Sleeping.
Julia had said they’d have to stay out here for a couple of days until things quieted down. Alice and Rita had readily agreed to stay right here, in this cabin, for as long as it took for Cartwright’s to hire new girls and forget all about them.
She hadn’t. That couldn’t happen. She not only owed Cartwright’s money, and therefore had to go back to work there as soon as possible, that was where her belongings were.
It wasn’t much. A suitcase of clothes that could be replaced easily enough, and a pair of shoes that didn’t hurt her feet, but they were hers. The picture of her mother was also in that suitcase as was her grandma’s Bible. Those two things couldn’t be replaced. It was all she had left of her family, besides her dream. Her mother’s dream.
Working at CB’s wasn’t ideal, or what she wanted, but neither had working for Olin Swaggert been, but she’d done it and then moved on, having fulfilled her obligation. That’s why Olin got the farm, because Pappy had owed him money. That wasn’t going to happen to her; she wouldn’t owe anyone for anything. Yet, she did. She owed Mel Cartwright, and now Julia, and, heaven forbid, Walter Russell for making sure she didn’t get arrested last night.
The sun was completely up now and all that orange was giving way for a bright blue to take over. There still weren’t any clouds, but those big awkward-looking palm trees no longer looked black. Their huge, oddly shaped leaves were green and the thin bark on the trunks was a gray-brown. The other trees were green; so was the grass and the vegetables growing in the big fenced-in garden. It was even bigger than the garden she’d taken care of back at the Swaggerts’.
She didn’t think she’d ever miss weeding a garden, but gal-darn it, if there wasn’t a yearning inside her to open the gate and start plucking out weeds.
Rising up, she folded the blanket and left it lying on the porch. Then, wearing the cigarette-girl getup and no shoes since hers were inside and she didn’t want to wake anyone, she walked down the two short steps and made her way over to the garden.
She’d plucked every weed out of two rows when sirens echoed through the quiet of the morning. Her heart rose into her throat as a thousand thoughts fought to get her to concentrate on specific ones first. Everything from being arrested, to being taken back to CB’s, to wondering how far she could run with no shoes, and if there were any sandburs that she’d later have to dig out of her feet.
It had been dark last night, so she wasn’t certain how far they’d walked from Julia’s house to this cabin in the woods. No more than half a mile, she’d guess. It wouldn’t take the police long to get here. Letting out a heavy sigh, she walked back to the garden gate, made sure to secure the latch behind her and then made her way to the house to get her shoes. Too small or not, she needed them.
The other girls were still sleeping and she questioned whether she should wake them or not, but ultimately decided they’d get woken up soon enough. Quietly, she carried her shoes back outside to wait on the front porch.
At least an hour had to have passed while she sat there, wondering if she should make her way back to Julia’s so the police didn’t have to trek through the woods, or if she should finish weeding the garden while waiting on them. Walter kept filtering into her mind, too, especially how wonderful he had smelled last night, but she squelched those thoughts. She had enough to worry about.
She finally decided there was no sense putting off the inevitable and chose to trek through the woods. It wasn’t that far, and if not for the stupid shoes on her feet, she would have made it in less time. Things always looked different in the daylight, and she took a moment to ponder the two-story house before she fully stepped out of the woods. Charming with its gray siding and yellow trim, it was the kind of house that would be nice to call home. Someday when her singing profited enough money, she might just have to buy a house like that.
Beyond a grove of trees, which to her way of thinking were more like bushes that nearly encircled the house, was the diner. A long building painted bright red with white trim. Folks out here must like red. The diner where she’d met Roy Harrison had been red and white, too.
She shifted her gaze. From where she stood, she couldn’t see any police cars.
She’d heard sirens, that was for darn sure. Maybe they hadn’t been coming for her. Either way, she had to figure out a way to get back to CB’s. She didn’t want to go back, but she had to. Whether she’d slept there or not, she’d be charged for lodging, just like the meals. Working there was her only choice. A person couldn’t just run away from their debts. Life didn’t work that way.
With her eyes peeled for any spot where someone might hide, in case those police were sneaky buzzards, she stepped out of the woods and slowly made her way to the house. No one popped out from behind the corners of the house or the bushes. That eased the way her nerves were making her want to jump right out of her skin, but it didn’t do much for the way her stomach had sunk clear to her knees.
Her first weeks in California sure hadn’t panned out to be what she’d imagined.
She climbed the steps to the house and knocked on
