The Gallant South- Part One

Chapter XII- October 24-31, 1912

         "If you don't leave, they'll know you were in here!" Eveline exclaimed.
        "They'll know someone was here when they see the bandage. Just wait, I'm almost done," Ambrose replied, trying to tie a bandage around the part of Eveline's arm that had become a bruised, bleeding mess. And that was after they'd gotten her nose to stop bleeding. After Bettirose and Cora had retreated, Nielsen had come back and added to the wound before hauling her in with all the other people they'd arrested.
        "I'm telling you, I'm fine. I don't need first-aid," Eveline said sourly. Ambrose ignored her. "You've got to get over this mentality of yours where you think no injury could possibly hurt you, so you go out looking for trouble," he replied, stepping back to look at his handiwork.
        "I couldn't stand that...what's the word Jo used? Sassenach?"
        "I wasn't there. Is that Irish?"
        "I think so. Anyways, I couldn't stand him! Talking like that, threatening Cora, walking around with a rifle like it's no big deal!" Eveline cried. Ambrose looked at her. "Did you ever think that maybe he's trying to make you mad, so you'll do something that will warrant him hurting you?" he asked with his arms crossed.
        "I'll bet he was. But still!" Eveline tried protesting. Ambrose shook his head. "Your safety matters too. You can't keep getting beaten up just to prove that you can take it. One of these days it'll all add up," Ambrose explained, walking towards the door. Eveline leaned back in the chair and kicked her feet up onto the table. Ambrose sighed.
        "Oh, as if you aren't risking your life right now," Eveline observed.
        "Very true," Ambrose admitted. "But I'm not the one under arrest and sitting in an interrogation room. That would be you."
        "Don't get mouthy with me," Eveline said, but Ambrose knew she wasn't being serious, so he smiled. "It's true though, they can't break you no matter what they try. "You'll always outsmart them."
        "I know. It's quite fun," Eveline replied. Ambrose nodded in silent goodbye and slipped out of the room just minutes before Nielsen entered.
        "Where's Colby?" Eveline asked.
        "He's gone back to his house," Nielsen replied, a tone of disgust in his voice.
        "Shame. You didn't hit me half as hard as he did," Eveline noted with a smirk. Nielsen looked like he wanted to punch her, but he composed himself. "You know you're talkin' to a police officer, right?" he asked angrily.
        "You're a police officer? You're doing a terrible job of it. Aren't I supposed to feel safe and protected? Because right now I'm feeling the opposite."
        "Our job is to protect the good, legal, and law-abiding citizens," Nielsen replied. Eveline snorted and then laughed. "You mean the white men? 'Cause those are the only ones you protect!" she cried hysterically. Nielsen grumbled. "Maybe if you would shut your damn mouth and make like a proper lady, you wouldn't be here right now," he replied.
        "Oh please, it's 1912. I think the time for 'proper ladies' is long past. Actually, I believe that ended with the first moving picture. 1888, I believe. Roundhay Garden Scene," Eveline explained. Nielsen only growled, so Eveline continued. "Oh, just wait for the day when we can watch moving pictures in our own houses! Maybe they'll invent portable screens that we can carry in our dress pockets!"
        "You've got too many revolutionary ideas," Nielsen growled.
        "I know. Oh, but maybe soon they'll invent real pants and shorts for women! And maybe one day we won't have to wear hats everywhere! Oh! Oh! Maybe in a few years we won't have to wear dresses or heels or gloves! I wonder what fashion will look like in ten years, don't you?" she asked.
        "Shut yer damn mouth!" Nielsen snarled. Eveline shrugged. "If you say so."

        When Nielsen could once again get nothing from her, he threw her into a cell crowded with other women who clapped when she came in. Eveline however, was surprised to see Josephine, Emery, and Renee.
        "Renee! I thought you and Kit got away," Eveline exclaimed. Renee shrugged. "She did, thankfully," Renee replied, and then the officer watching them looked up. "You look familiar," he said, looking at Renee. She stared back at him.
        "Oh, you're Renee Lambert, aren't you? The dressmaker?" he realized. "I didn't know you would be mixed in with these...people," he said, as if he didn't fully believe that they were people.
        "Well I'm not fully white either, am I?" she asked. The officer looked up sharply. "Then what are you?" he demanded.
        "Half French, half Spanish," Renee replied, and the officer grumbled but said nothing more.
        "Nice arm you got there, Eveline," Jo commented, nodding to the bandage, which was already stained through.
        "How bad is it?" Emery asked, despite Eveline's nonchalant attitude. Eveline peeled off the bandage and held up her arm like a trophy. A few of the women recoiled. "Pretty bad, ain't it? Courtesy of Mr. Colby Whitbaker and Co," she joked.
        "Boy, they sure are a pleasant company," Emery replied sarcastically. Renee laughed, but it was more of a concerned laugh. "Sure are."