“Jean Jegel’s delightfully engaging and immersive historical romance Catching Nettie Gordon is a charming and worldly tale set in Los Angeles just after the turn of the twentieth century. The story follows our titular working-class heroine as she navigates the current affairs of the day – women’s suffrage, prohibition, and more – and has no intention of being entangled in any sort of romance, while suitor Emmet takes it upon himself to win her over with his sincere and thoughtful efforts. The story will quickly have readers captivated and invested in the outcomes of its various threads, which are satisfyingly tied up in an unusually complex and nuanced conclusion that sets it apart from other works of historical fiction.” SPR, ★★★★
Chapter One
Los Angeles, 1905
“You simply must come, Nettie. I told them I’d help set up chairs. This is the most exciting time for women in the history of the world!”
It was plain to see Eula was caught up in dreams of an ideal future where sober, sensible and attentive men would fall at her feet and provide equal pay for her work. Nettie, too practical to have her head turned by promises of heaven on earth, clearly held no such idealistic notions.
“I know you enjoyed the suffragette gathering last week,” continued Eula. “The Women’s Christian Temperance Union meeting will be even more inspiring. The speakers are so stirring. You know you want to come!”
Nettie Gordon watched two boys from her first-grade class chase several older girls across the field. She much preferred the classroom environment to her current task as playground monitor.
“Eula, I think you have the wrong impression. I’m happy you found kindred spirits at your meetings, but I’d much prefer going home, putting my feet up and embroidering to plotting to control the world.” Nettie’s corner room on the third floor of Mrs. Green’s boarding house was her refuge. “Besides, I have papers to grade.”
“That won’t take long. Can’t you imagine what it will be like once we have the vote? We’ll have an equal say in what goes on in the world. It will mean an end to all social ills—drunkenness, smoking, child labor, prostitution, poverty; even dirty politics will all be wiped from existence.”
Eula was Nettie’s best friend and fellow teacher at Trinity Lutheran Church School. She taught 5th and 6th grades and Nettie taught 1st and 2nd. The two women lived at the same boarding house on Bunker Hill. Their friendship seemed inevitable, a normal result of close proximity, but the women could not have been more different.
Having lived on a Wisconsin dairy farm her entire life, Eula was enthralled with all Los Angeles had to offer. She literally walked through the streets with mouth agape when she arrived last year. An uncle secured her teaching position at Trinity. Eager to leave her relation’s house and control, Eula quickly moved into Mrs. Green’s when Nettie mentioned there was a vacant room.
Eula’s fondest wish in life was to find a husband although her individual goal had recently become subjugated by an avid pursuit of equality and justice for all women. Perhaps the fact she had few marital prospects also fueled her enthusiasm for matters political.
Gangly and tall, Eula appeared all elbows and knees, no small feat in the abundant layers of clothing women wore. Her dull brown hair was always tightly pulled into a bun on top of her head. She had a severely pointed chin, angular features and skin that blotched with the slightest exertion.
Nettie was entirely different, from her appearance to her temperament. Having grown up in nearby Pasadena, Nettie was never impressed with life in the City of Angels. Eager to leave home, she rode the street car as far as her money could take her, which was not far at all. At 16, she first took a job in a restaurant waiting tables.
If Eula’s appearance made her stand out in a negative way, Nettie’s appearance allowed her to blend in. Of average height, she considered herself quite plain. In fact, she prided herself in her average figure, average face and average hazel eyes. The only features that stood her slightly apart were her dark auburn hair and lightly freckled cheeks. Nettie considered these undesirable attributes in any case.
Her only real goal in life, besides making her own living, was avoiding marriage like the plague. Having five older brothers and a father back home, the youngest of six children was entirely fed up with men. Her mother worked herself to death before Nettie made her abrupt departure. She had no desire to suffer a similar fate. Men were dull, violent, bestial, lazy, repulsive fools.
Nettie’s current life of teaching, church activities, reading and embroidery was her own modest dream come true. She found an outlet for her caring nature in her students and the luscious houseplants she tended on her windowsill. Her corner room provided a rare view of greenery in the midst of the city. Nettie made ample use of her proximity to Central Park and its lush tropical flora. Her bicycle was her most prized possession. She did not aspire to save the world.
Nonetheless, Nettie decided to accompany her dearest friend to the WCTU meeting that night to keep her out of trouble if nothing else. It was a decision that would alter the course of her life.
* * *
Nettie sat in the basement of the Vernon Congregational Church, filled to capacity on the warm June evening. Fervor for the Women’s Christian Temperance Union was on the rise since the organization held their convention in Pasadena last month. Nettie would have to admit; the speakers were riveting. She listened attentively to the assertions women, being the far superior sex morally, were obligated to perform their duties as “citizen-mothers” to protect their homes and cure the ills of society. The goal of the organization was to create “a sober and pure world by abstinence, purity and evangelical Christianity.”
The organization defined temperance as “moderation in all things healthful; total abstinence from all things harmful.” Anything good in life should never be indulged to excess; anything fitting their definition of bad should be avoided completely.
The first example demonstrated how a family member’s errant behavior could unintentionally affect their loved ones in derogatory ways:
“Ned has applied for a job, but he is not chosen. He finds that the potential employer has judged him to be like his Uncle Jack. Jack is a kindly man but he spends his money on drink and cigarettes. Ned has also been seen drinking and smoking. The employer thinks that Ned lacks the necessary traits of industriousness which he associates with abstinence and self-control.”
Innocent wives attested to have married kind and supportive men who turned to liquor and transformed into the scourges of their families. Women were forced to support their children and suffered the indignity of being wives of drunkards. Children were confused at the tears and sorrow of their mothers and at fathers who did not love them as Godly men loved their children.
Then came the story of a Mrs. Carse who became an activist after her son was killed by a drunken wagon driver. But it was the litany of personal accounts of sexual and domestic violence at the hands of drunken husbands that resulted in a hushed and horrified audience.
Liquor sellers were painted as no less than murderers. Nettie was certain liquor interests caused the failure of women’s suffrage in many states. They used their political influence and money to defeat the movement, which was unquestionably a threat to their business. The Liquor Dealers League defeated suffrage as recently as 1896 in California. Women weren’t about to forget.
The WCTU speakers effectively outlined the lack of women’s civil rights. In many states, women did not have control of their property or custody of their children in case of divorce. There were no legal protections for women and children. Men were rarely prosecuted for rape. The age of consent was as low as seven in many states. Most political meetings occurred in saloons where women were not allowed. The speakers clearly outlined their agenda—once women won the vote, their lot in life would be greatly improved.
Nettie was impressed by the various charitable ventures the organization sponsored. They operated nurseries for children of working women, promoted Sunday schools, ran homeless shelters and homes for fallen women. As Nettie applauded at the end of the meeting, she had the undeniable feeling the polished presentation was lacking in some way.
Due to the lateness of the hour, Nettie was anxious to head for home. Eula, however, vanished into the crowd of eagerly conversing women. Finally catching sight of her tall friend near the exit, Nettie made her way across the room to find an animated and excited Eula nattering away with other young ladies.
Grabbing Nettie’s arm, Eula breathlessly declared, “We’re going to pray. You must come.”
“You’re going to pray in the church?”
“No, remember when they spoke about the early days of the WCTU—the way women blocked entrances of saloons by kneeling in prayer at the door? That’s what we’re going to do.”
“What a horrible idea. I want to go home and grade my papers so I can go to bed. It’s almost summer vacation. Can’t we pray in front of saloons next month when school is out?”
Eula linked her arm in Nettie’s and started for the door. “We’re going in the direction of home. We’ll simply take some exercise along the way then we’ll catch the Yellow Car. Here, I got a sign for us to carry.”
Eula presented a hand-drawn sign nailed to a two-by-two. The picture on the placard featured a slovenly saloon owner laughing over the graves of his customers. This was hardly an appropriate sign to take to prayer as far as Nettie was concerned. She couldn’t imagine why the barkeeper was laughing—he just lost his customers. Nonetheless, she reluctantly followed the group of enthusiastic women down the sidewalk.
Nettie noticed most of this group of ladies were younger than her. Nettie had been on her own for nearly ten years. Her maturity and self-reliance served her well since she moved away from home. Attempting to mull over her issues with the WCTU meeting, Nettie lagged behind the excited clutch of women.
She readily gave credit to the Union’s various charitable endeavors. They were generously providing for women’s needs in communities around the world. She agreed women lacked the civil rights evident in the Bill of Rights. The right to vote would undoubtedly give them the voice they currently lacked. It was the group’s insistence they knew what was best for everyone that proved concerning. She often heard sermons on the importance of moderation in all things. Nettie was not certain the prohibition of alcohol was wise.
Murder was prohibited, that hadn’t stopped murder. Theft was prohibited, that certainly hadn’t stopped robbery. Why did these women believe the prohibition of alcohol would stop drinking? In any case, she seriously doubted the Germans who populated her own church would willingly give up their beer.
After all, Jesus turned water into wine. The Bible did not contain a single verse about the evil of alcohol, only the evil of drunkenness and the benefits of moderation. If there was some percentage of the population who could not hold their liquor, why did everyone else have to give it up? Not that she cared much for liquor. Nettie surmised if the women of the WCTU got their way, law-abiding, God-fearing citizens would be made into criminals in short order.
As the group of ladies paused on the sidewalk in front of a saloon to kneel and pray, Nettie leaned against the corner of the building. She held Eula’s sign and let her arm fall loosely at her side as she continued to sort out her opinions.
Nettie realized the WCTU blamed saloon keepers for the behavior of their clients. Personal responsibility did not seem to be the focus of the group as Nettie imagined it should. Every soul had the duty to choose between good and evil. It seemed the WCTU was trying to legislate morality. No sooner did Nettie feel comfortable with her conclusions than she heard the sound of glass shattering. Suddenly alert, she observed the ladies in her group dashing in all directions. A frantic Eula hurried past yelling, “Run!”
As Nettie turned to leave, a large hand tightly grasped her arm. Before she knew what was happening, a man pulled her down the sidewalk at breakneck speed.
Having just heard testimony of the wretched way women were treated, a shocked Nettie attempted to extricate her arm.
“Let me go! What do you think you’re doing?” Short of collapsing, there seemed no way to deter her strong rival. Even if she did fall to the ground, he might simply drag her along the sidewalk. If he pulled her into an alleyway or some vacant building, there was little she could do to defend herself.
Nettie tried to strike his arm with the sign then attempted to dig her heels into the sidewalk but could not manage to stop his forward momentum. Considering she really ought to scream, Nettie caught sight of a police station ahead. Determined to put up a hue and cry in the hopes a kindly officer would come to her aid, Nettie was shocked when the brute pulled her right into the station.
“I want to file charges,” proclaimed the beast.
“You want to file charges! Officer, this man accosted me on the street and brought me here against my will. I wish to file charges!”
“She vandalized my business. My front window is shattered. She’s one of those temperance lunatics. Arrest her!”
Wide-eyed, Nettie stood uncomprehending. “I am not a lunatic.”
“But you were among the women who blocked the entrance to my saloon.”
“Well, I was but—”
“They broke my window and ran off. I happened to catch this one, Harvey. Lock her up. I’m pressing charges. I expect full compensation for my window and the lettering.”
“I didn’t break your window.”
“You were certainly a party to it. Perhaps you’d like to fork over the names of the ‘ladies,’ and I use the term loosely, who accompanied you.”
“I can’t.” Nettie was becoming angry. Being pulled against her will down the street brought back unpleasant memories of home and her rowdy brothers. She was tired and completely innocent.
“That’s right, you women all hang together—everything for the common good. Selfless, stupid martyrs intent on ruining anyone’s life who stands in your way.”
“What’s going on here?” inquired a distinguished-looking officer.
Harvey explained, “This lady broke Emmett’s window.”
“I did not.” Why was everyone here on a first-name basis? Nettie felt outnumbered and doubted justice would be done.
“Calm down now, lady. Let me explain to the chief,” Harvey interjected.
“I’ll be happy to explain,” Emmett declared. “A bunch of temperance women blocked the door to my saloon. They broke the plate glass window in front—the big one with the lettering—and ran off. I caught this one. I’m filing charges. Arrest her.”
The chief directed his next comment to the lady. “What is your name?”
A sudden dread came over Nettie. She could lose her job over this. “Nettie Gordon.”
“Where is your husband? Can he come for you and clear this up?”
“I’m not married.”
Emmett snorted, “That figures.”
“Are you employed, Miss Gordon?”
“I am. Listen, I was simply following along after the WCTU meeting, waiting for my friend so we could go home. I didn’t break the window.”
“Perhaps you’d like to give me the names of the other ladies? We could investigate and find out who broke the window,” the chief suggested.
“I don’t even know those women.” Nettie watched as the chief’s eyes fell on the incriminating sign she held.
“What about your friend?”
Although Eula certainly got her into this mess, Nettie was reluctant to turn her over to the authorities. “I don’t believe she broke the window either.”
“But you don’t know for sure, do you?”
“I don’t know who broke the window. I think it must have been accidental.”
“You can’t possibly believe this?” Emmett could not appear angrier. “Throw her in jail. I want my day in court!”
“Just because your brother-in-law is a judge doesn’t mean you will have your way,” noted the chief.
Nettie’s eyes widened in disbelief. This monstrous man clearly had the entire legal system in his pocket. She grasped the fact she was in serious trouble. “I don’t want to lose my position over this. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was simply standing at the corner waiting for my friend.” Remembering the white ribbon that stood for the temperance movement was pinned to her collar, Nettie could not think of a way to discreetly remove it.
“Unfortunately, there are damages. I’m certain Emmett doesn’t mean for you to lose your job.”
This drew a loud snort of derision from the furious Emmett.
“Can you make reparation for the damages?”
“You’re asking me if I have money to pay for the window? My savings are meager. I support myself. I’m a simple school teacher.”
“Nonetheless, charges will need to be filed unless you find a way to replace the window or turn over the names of the women who did the damage. Emmett, isn’t Faith due to have her baby soon?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“She won’t be working in the saloon much longer. Maybe Miss Gordon here could work off her debt.” It was difficult for the chief to determine who bore the most profound look of horror at his suggestion, Emmett or Miss Gordon.
“But I have a job. I haven’t time to work at another job!” proclaimed Nettie.
“Then I’ll need to charge you with vandalism.”
“She doesn’t know anything about working in a saloon. What good could she possibly be to me? Besides, if you let her go now, she might never show up.”
The chief explained, “I think the last thing you need is for this lovely lady to become a martyr for her cause. I’m quite certain she is trainable. If she writes her personal information on a card for me, I’ll keep it securely in my desk as insurance she won’t make an escape like some bandit in the night.”
In the end, it was agreed Miss Gordon would work off her debt at one dollar per day, every Saturday from noon to 10 p.m. Emmett would provide copies of the bills for the window and lettering. Any disputes would be settled by a less-than-eager Officer Harvey. As the chief forced the pair to shake hands on their deal, he made a mental note to grab a beer on Saturday afternoon about 4 o’clock.
* * *
Nettie stomped out of the police station into the damp night air. The fog had come in. It would undoubtedly be a cooler day tomorrow. As she crossed the street, she was surprised to find Eula waiting around the corner.
“Some friend you are!” Nettie spouted, her pent-up anger apparent.
“Who was that man?” gushed Eula.
“What man?”
“The handsome man who took you to the police station?”
“Are you insane? He wanted to file charges against me. I’ll have you know I could be sitting in a cell right now awaiting arraignment for your little stunt.”
“He was so tall and strong. Nettie, he’s about the most wonderful man I’ve ever seen. His shoulders were broad and his muscles bulged against his shirtsleeves.” Eula looked upwards as if she could gaze at the moon through the fog.
Nettie shook her head in disgust. “I want to go home.” She headed down the sidewalk. Eula hurried after.
When Eula discovered Nettie would be working for the saloonkeeper, she wished she was less adept at abandoning the scene of the crime.
* * *
Nettie gave a ponderous yawn as she watched her class at recess the next day. By the time she got home and graded papers, there was little time for sleep. She was in no mood for Eula. This obvious fact did not stop her friend from offering a greeting and beginning an inquisition.
“What do you think would happen if I gave myself up to the police? It’s only right I should share your burden.”
“Funny, you weren’t so eager to confess last night.”
“I was in shock.”
“I think you’re being shallow, Eula. You simply want to flirt with that vile man. It’s certainly odd how you changed from temperance fanatic to willing saloon employee overnight.”
“I was thinking. It’s not fair for you to suffer through this on your own.”
“What a dear friend you’ve become.”
“What was it like when he held your arm? Were your knees weak? Did you swoon? I think you should have collapsed into his arms. Oh, my, how would that feel?”
Nettie glared as Eula hugged herself and swayed at the thought of being held by the repulsive saloonkeeper. “You can save yourself from further fantasies. Someone named Faith works at the saloon and is about to have a baby. It appears the object of your desire is married and soon to be a father.” Nettie was not surprised when Eula suddenly remembered she had a prior commitment and would not be able to help.
* * *
A reluctant Nettie made her way to the Golden State Saloon on Saturday. Purposely dressed in her most prim and plain white shirtwaist and black skirt, only her face was visible. The high stiff collar of her blouse was buttoned right up to her chin. Buttons fastened her long sleeves at the wrists. She wore plain cotton gloves. Instead of her normal, fashionable hairstyle, Nettie braided her hair and wound it into a bun at the base of her neck. She removed all ornamentation from an old straw hat. There was no telling what rough sorts she might run into today. She appeared matronly and prudish and planned to protect her honor by any means possible—even going so far as to secrete her small switchblade knife in her reticule.
First taking a deep breath, Nettie opened the front door of the Golden State and feeling much like a sacrificial lamb, walked inside. She looked around in wonder. The establishment was quite refined, not at all what she expected. Although the lighting was rather dim—the fact the front window was boarded up undoubtedly contributed to the darkness—it was obvious the saloon was well-kept. The dominant feature was a beautiful mahogany bar extending across the entire rear wall. Heavy tasseled drapes hung at the windows. The walls were paneled. As many as 20 tables occupied the large room. It appeared a few were being used by card players. A pleasant aroma emanated from a lunch buffet.
Her captor stood behind the bar talking to a blond woman. When he noticed Nettie, he scowled before walking through a door near the end of the bar. The blond woman, obviously with child, walked toward Nettie. She appeared to be in about as dour a mood as her husband.
“So, you actually came. Emmett imagined you gave a false address and never intended to work off your debt.”
In the most haughty tone she could muster, Nettie replied, “It remains to be seen if this is my debt or not. Nonetheless, I am an honest woman and I am here on behalf of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union to put things right.”
“I suppose you don’t know a thing about serving drinks?”
“I did once have a job as a waitress. I don’t imagine this could be much different.”
“That’s better than nothing, I suppose. Come along. We’ll get you an apron.”
Nettie trailed along to a back room where two girls conversed across a table. The pair turned in unison to view the new, if temporary, employee. Nettie beheld identical twins. The girls were beautiful, fair-skinned blonds with blue eyes. They were primly attired but not quite to the same degree as Nettie.
“You two better get to work,” commanded Faith. The girls immediately rose from the table and, glaring at Nettie, walked into the saloon without a word.
Nettie rightly observed the people who worked at the Golden State Saloon were rather hostile. Her expression apparently betrayed her thoughts.
Faith scowled, “Don’t expect to be making any friends. Everybody knows what you did—the reason you’re here. Hope and Charity may be about your age, but they don’t have any use for your views.”
“Hope and Charity?” This was too much of a coincidence. “They’re relatives of yours?”
Faith nodded, “My sisters. This is a family business. We don’t take kindly to anyone trying to keep us from making our living.” She threw an apron at Nettie and slammed an order tablet and pencil on the table. “I wanted you to work the side room, but Emmett wants you in front. There’s a menu on the bar. You can take a look. Food orders go through the bar to the kitchen. Aside from the buffet, the menu usually has about five entrees, which vary from day-to-day. Liquor orders are filled at the bar. What are you waiting for? You said you were a waitress.”
Nettie tied the strings of the white apron and placed the pad and pencil in her pocket. As Faith walked out, Nettie quickly took the knife from her reticule and placed it in her other pocket. It was difficult to tell from whom she might have to defend herself, the patrons or her fellow employees.
The Golden State was one of the few saloons in Los Angeles to serve cold beer. On a hot June day such as today, business was truly booming. Although she had to ask a few questions of the belligerent twins, Nettie caught on fast, quickly reconciling her current duties with past waitressing experience.
No sooner did the lunch crowd let up than preparations for the supper crowd began. Determined to do a good job so no one could complain and tack time onto her sentence, Nettie was on the verge of collapse once the patrons left the barroom promptly at 10. She left her dirty apron on the table in the “closet” as it was called, grabbed her reticule and started for the front door.
“Be here on time next week,” growled the beast behind the bar, who had not seen fit to acknowledge her presence in any manner since she arrived, on time.
Nettie did not give him the courtesy of a reply but quickly exited the building and walked toward the trolley. Having not worked so physically hard in some time, it was all Nettie could do to stay awake so as not to miss her stop.
* * *
“What happened?” asked Eula. “What was it like? Were you accosted?”
“Hush, Eula. I don’t want anyone to hear.” Nettie escorted the last of her Sunday school students from her room. She had the youngest class, three and four-year-olds, and considered teaching the small children a nice way to introduce herself to future classes at school. From long experience, Nettie understood young children were eager to discuss private and even intimate details of home life. She didn’t want them inadvertently repeating anything that might spill out of Eula’s mouth.
“What did you do? Were there any brawls? What about shootings? How much do you owe?”
“There was nothing of the sort,” admonished Nettie. “It’s quite a respectable establishment from what I can see. There are house limits on betting so the poker players take part in friendly games. It seems they don’t abide obvious drunkenness. Some men were rather loud, but that was the extent of their rowdiness. The window has not been repaired. I don’t know how many weeks I’ll be working. At least school will be out this week.”
Nettie loved summertime ever since she was a little girl. Seemingly endless days stretched to a vague hint of productivity in the distant future. She enjoyed not knowing what day it was or what time, eating when she was hungry, sleeping when she grew tired. The only drawback since she was on her own was her lack of income. It was always a challenge to save enough to pay her room and board for those three months. No matter how diligently she prepared, how carefully she budgeted, the strain of making ends meet often troubled the glorious season. Nettie considered obtaining some temporary position, but what was the point of summer if one had to work? Now the trolley fare to the saloon would eat into her savings.
Although it was some distance, she considered riding her bicycle to the Golden State. She would have to be extra careful coming home. Reckless automobile drivers made navigating the roads of Los Angeles a challenge. The busy streets were a maze of trolleys, wagons, motor cars, trucks and horses. Attempting the roads at night might prove her undoing.
* * *
As a breathless Nettie parked her bike and entered the front door of the saloon, Faith grabbed her arm and directed her to the “side door,” which was apparently where ladies, or ladies accompanied by gentlemen, could imbibe their own spirits. Not allowed in the main saloon, women were provided an identical experience. This was Faith’s domain or at least it was up to now. She tended bar. Nettie noticed when Hope and Charity abandoned their posts in the main saloon last week, they were busily taking orders in back.
This Saturday, the Golden State was hosting a dance in the lady’s area. It appeared a crowd was expected. Tables and chairs were tightly squeezed around the perimeter of the room. A band was setting up on the small stage.
“You did all right last week,” admitted Faith, begrudgingly. “I need you to tend bar back here today. I have to leave for a while, but I’ll be back. Emmett doesn’t like the twins to tend bar.” Faith paused to observe her captive employee. “I suppose you have moral qualms about serving liquor?”
“No, I certainly delivered enough drinks last week. This is no different.”
“I thought you believed alcohol consumption was taboo, as if it were the 11th commandment—Thou Shalt Not Drink?”
“As I explained to Mr. Boyd when he dragged me to the police station, I accompanied my friend the evening the window was broken. I had nothing to do with it and doubt the other ladies caused the window to break, at least not intentionally.”
“But you were at the meeting?”
“Yes, but I rather dislike when someone assumes they understand my opinions. I can assure you, I am not offended by someone taking a drink. I would be drummed out of my church for such an attitude—it’s a German Lutheran church. Germans love their beer, although it seems hard liquor is the focus of the movement.”
“Oh, I wondered why you were so afraid of losing your position over being arrested but not by working in a saloon.”
Everyone here certainly seemed to know Nettie’s business. “I’m not exactly working here. It’s not as if I applied for a job or am being reimbursed. I consider it my contribution toward the charitable works of the WCTU.”
Faith grimaced but quickly put her mind to the task at hand. After a brief 15-minute introduction, Nettie was the temporary manager and bartender of the side door at the Golden State Saloon.