ran out or the crowd thinned, whichever came first.
Tired after a twelve-hour shift, the men rarely lingered. They thanked Emma for a hearty meal and left as soon as they finished. Some would go home to sleep, while others chose to drop by the nearest saloon.
When the café cleared, the women went to work washing up and restoring order. The same crew would want breakfast in the morning.
Livy wiped down the tables, then started washing pans. “Emma, why don’t you serve a noon meal?”
“I can’t hold out for sixteen hours a day. Besides, the miners who work nights are usually asleep during the noon meal, so I don’t think it would be very busy anyway.”
“You never know.”
“I’ll think about it. I’d have to have some more help, though. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Have you always lived in Chestnut?”
“No. When my husband came to work in the coal mines, I opened the café to bring in a few extra dollars.” A shadow passed over Emma’s face. “He died in the Black Gold mine collapse in ’72.”
Livy touched Emma’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
Emma smiled. “That’s all right. There were a lot of other women in worse shape than me. I had the café and didn’t have any children to support. Twenty-nine men died that day, and a lot of them left wives and young children behind. Only mine disaster around these parts so far, thank the Lord. I cringe every time I hear one of those whistles if it’s not time for a shift change.”
“A lot’s changed since you’ve been here, hasn’t it?”
“When my husband and I came, everybody knew everybody. We didn’t have the riffraff we have now. All these bums from Chicago who ride in on the trains looking for an easy mark. And the children—that’s the worst.”
Livy stopped scrubbing. “The street kids?”
“Yep. Remember that boy I told you about? He stopped by the other night but took off as soon as I mentioned that you wanted to talk to him. He’s a skittish one, he is.”
“Has he caused trouble?”
“No, not that. But it’s sad to know they’re roaming the streets and nobody cares anything about them.”
“I’ve taken them some food,” Livy said.
“Do you know where they’re staying?”
“No. But I know where to leave the food, and they pick it up.”
“To tell you the truth, I always cook an extra pone of corn bread or biscuits. The boy brings a few pennies, and we both pretend it’s enough.”
“I know they appreciate your help.” Good Samaritans like Emma were few and far between.
“There’s some leftover ham and corn bread. You can take it to them if you’ve a mind to.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.” She called to Mary, who’d been busy sweeping up, “Mary, are you ready to head home?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m finished.”
The door opened and Emma called out, “We’re closed.”
“I’m not looking for a meal, Emma.” Jake pushed back the curtain. “I’m looking for Livy and Mary.”
Livy blushed.
Emma looked from one to the other. “I didn’t know you knew Jake.” Then she laughed. “Well, I guess everybody knows Jake, since he’s a deputy and all.”
Jake’s gaze met Livy’s. “I told Mrs. Brooks I’d walk you two home. I’m making rounds anyway, so it’s no trouble.”
“We’re almost done here.” A wave of pleasure wafted over Livy. He cared enough to see that they made it home safely.
Emma waved her away. “You girls go on now. All I’ve got to do is lock up. I’ll see you in the morning, Livy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Livy picked up the parcel of food Emma had wrapped for her. She’d better wait until later to deliver it. She didn’t want to expose Mary to the burned-out shantytown, and she didn’t want Jake to worry either.
“Ladies.” Jake held out both arms. Livy slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, while Mary giggled.
“How’s Gus? We heard he’d been sick.” Livy lifted her skirt and stepped around a patch of snow turning to icy slush.
“Better. His fever broke this afternoon, and we’re having trouble keeping him in bed.”
“Mrs. Brooks will be so glad to hear that. We’ve been praying for him.”
They walked two blocks down, cut across behind McIver’s, crossed Main Street, and turned left toward home. Jake kept up a brisk pace along the boardwalk until they reached the orphanage.
Once out of the cold, Livy took off her gloves and coat.
She picked up the tin coffeepot. “Would you like a cup?”