Free A Bright Tomorrow by Gilbert Morris

condition, Amos thought quickly, then came to a decision. “Look, you’d better come with me to my boarding house. I don’t know if there’s a room for you, but Mrs. Castellano knows the neighborhood. She can help you. Here…let me carry that. We’ve got to get out of this rain before both of us drown!”
    It may have been the mention of another woman…or perhaps it was the firm way in which Amos snatched up her suitcase and took her arm…but the young woman responded faintly, and with a note of hope, “Thank you.”
    They were still three blocks away from the house, and the downpour grew steadily worse. So by the time Amos had escorted the girl up onto the stoop and was opening the door, they were as wet as if they’d been thrown into the river.
    â€œI’m Amos Stuart. What’s your name, miss?”
    â€œRose Beaumont.”
    The warmth from the house was a relief. As soon as they stepped inside and closed the door, Anna appeared from the direction of the kitchen. “Amos,” she exclaimed, “you’re wet to the skin!”
    â€œYeah, I am. Mama Anna, this is Miss Rose Beaumont. She needs a room.”
    Anna leveled one look at the girl’s soggy form, and took charge, fussing over her. “Look at you!” she scolded. Taking Rose by the arm, she hauled her off toward her own bedroom, which was on the first floor. Over her shoulder she threw Amos a withering glance. “Well don’t just stand-a there! Bring-a the poor girl’s suitcase!”
    He grinned and followed obediently, depositing the suitcase in Anna’s bedroom.
    The heavy woman snatched it from him, then shoved him toward the door. “Get yourself outta those wet clothes! You wanna get sick?”
    Amos shrugged, calling back as Anna pushed him outside and slammed the door, “Nice to meet you, Miss Beaumont!”
    Anna turned to the girl who was standing motionless in the center of the room. “You get-a yourself dried off and into something warm,” she commanded brusquely, digging out a thick towel from the drawer of an ancient oak chest. “Dry your hair good, yes? I come back and get-a you when it’s time-a to eat.”
    â€œI–I don’t have much money—”
    Anna gave an expressive shrug and said with disdain, “You gotta eat, no?”
    As the door closed behind her, Rose Beaumont stared blankly at it, then without warning, her shoulders began to shake and her eyes burned with hot tears she could keep back no longer. Blindly she moved to the bed, slipped to the floor, and pressed her face against the coverlet, muffling the sounds of her weeping.
    Taking a deep breath, Rose came to her feet and wiped her tears away with the towel Anna had left. Then she opened the sodden suitcase, took out dry clothes, and put them on the bed. After glancing toward the door, she stripped to the skin, dried quickly, and donned fresh underwear and a plain brown dress. She had not slept in two nights, and the warmth and comfort of dry clothes soon combined to produce a delicious drowsiness. But she shook off the temptation to sleep and began to dry her hair.
    Standing in front of the mirror, she pulled out the pins, and her hair fell to her waist in thick waves, raven black. When it was as dry as she could get it, she got her comb and brush from her suitcase. As she brushed the long tresses, she tried desperately to think, but her mind seemed drugged, she was so tired.
    Rose’s arms grew weary, and as she coiled her hair into braids, then pinned it into a halo, she began hoping that the woman called Anna would have a place for her. She dreaded the thought of going out into the cold and wet again. But did she have enough money? The thought of the slender packet of bills—less than ten dollars—floated before her, and a choking fear rose in her throat.
    Rose closed the suitcase and set it on the floor. It was in her mind to go outside