Page 322 of Conveniently Wed
And information is what she wanted.
No one took her seriously as a woman, so if she had to pretend to be a man to accomplish what she wanted to do, then so be it.
Tightly wrapping her chest, so it looked as flat as possible, Aundy pulled on a thick, coarse man’s undershirt. Over her bloomers, she tugged on a pair of pants that belonged to Erik’s father. Erik must have gotten his height from his mother’s side of the family, because his father’s pants were just a little too short for Aundy.
A thick pair of socks went on her feet, followed by the boots. She tugged the pant legs down over the tops of the boots.
Slipping her arms in a cotton work shirt, she buttoned it then stuffed the hem into the waistband of the pants. The blue and white striped shirt reminded her of hundreds just like it she’d sewn at the factory. When she fastened the suspenders, she gave them a playful snap, grinning to herself as she settled them inplace. After putting on a dark blue vest, she buttoned it then glanced in the mirror.
The transformation took shape, but she’d have to do something about her hair. Hastily unpinning it, she combed it back from her forehead and wove it into a tight braid. She caught the end and stuffed it back up under itself then pinned it into place. She tied a black cloth over her head, secured the ends in back, and tucked them into the neck of the shirt. No one would notice it once she had the hat in place.
Aundy stepped into the bathroom, looked in the small mirror above the sink, and carefully rubbed ashes into the skin along her jaw and chin, turning it a shade of gray. From a distance, in muted light, it might pass for a day’s growth of beard.
A little flour made her rosy lips look pale and dry. She reminded herself not to lick them.
Back in her room, she put money into her vest pocket and a piece of paper with a pencil stub in her coat pocket. After shrugging into the coat, she pulled the hat down on her head and stood in front of the mirror, eyeing herself critically.
With her tall height and build, she might just get away with pretending to be a man. Aundy practiced a swaggering walk a few times, giggling before she calmed down and took a deep breath.
She could do this and she would.
At the front door, she stopped and turned back to unlock the desk drawer where she kept Erik’s revolver. She removed it from the drawer, retrieved the holster and gun belt from his room, and fastened it around her hips like she’d seen men wear them.
The first steps she took felt lopsided until she adjusted her gait to the extra weight on her hip. As she walked a few circles around the front room, she remembered the Bay Rum in the bathroom. She splashed a little of the scent onto her hands,rubbed it on her neck, and wiped her still damp fingers down the front of her coat and pants.
A quick detour to the kitchen unearthed a pair of worn gloves she’d used outside. She jammed her hands inside and decided she had to leave before she came to her senses and changed her mind.
Aundy felt wondrously free and unhampered without her petticoats and skirts as she ran out the front door and down the porch steps. Able to mount Bell with ease, she could quickly become accustomed to wearing pants.
Before someone caught sight of her, she urged Bell into a fast canter down the lane and headed toward town.
Uncertain which saloon would grant the fastest access to the Underground, she decided on one she’d heard the hands talk about when they thought she wasn’t listening.
Quickly tying Bell to a hitching post around the corner, she swaggered down the boardwalk and through the swinging doors of a busy saloon. The stench of booze and cigar smoke made her want to cough while she fought to keep her eyes from watering. Discreetly pulling the brim of her hat down and turning up the collar of her coat, she walked up to the bar and leaned one elbow on it.
“Help you, mister?” The middle-aged man who stared at her from behind the bar seemed rather bookish for a bartender.
“Maybe,” Aundy spoke in a voice as deep and raspy as she could make it. “Have some business to do in the Underground.”
“Is that so?” The bartender continued to polish a glass, appearing disinterested.
Aundy nodded her head.
“What makes you think we know anything about the Underground?” The bartender set the shiny glass on the counter and picked up another to polish.
“Heard you were the best place in town. Figured you’d have other enterprises, beyond the saloon.” Aundy kept her head down, pretending to study the worn finger of her glove.
The bartender laughed. “Right you are. Go through that door and down the hall. Last door on the left will take you where you want to go.”
“Much obliged.” Aundy took a coin from her vest pocket and placed it on the bar.
The bartender grinned and tipped his head toward a door off to his right.
Aundy went through the doorway he indicated and found herself in a hall, flanked by doors on either side. The muffled sounds she could hear made her want to cover her ears, so she hurried to the end of the hall, turning the knob on the door to her left. It opened to reveal a dark staircase.
Cautiously easing her way down the stairs, Aundy came to another door and opened it into a narrow corridor. As she followed it, strange scents assaulted her nose and the rumble of a crowd floated around her. At the end of the hallway, she straightened her vest, tightened the string under her chin holding the hat firmly in place, and opened the door.
Aundy stepped into what appeared to be a small underground city. From her position, she could see a saloon, a sign for a bathhouse, and a Chinese laundry. Stunned to see so many people wandering around below the city, she ambled along, joining the crowd. Businessmen and even a few men from church were among the faces she passed.
