Free Bitter Eden by Sharon Anne Salvato

her new life.
    She had no idea how long she had been lying on the bed crying when she heard the next disturbance. Callie tensed, pressing herself against the headboard.

    Then the whole house fell silent. When she heard footsteps coming down the hall, she panicked, unable to think what to do. Her mind was filled with the vision of the cane coming furiously and painfully down on her again. She scuttled under the bed. Mrs. Peach entered, accompanied by the footman.
    "Where is she?" he asked. "She couldn't have gotten out again."
    With knowledge born of long experience, Mrs. Peach walked directly to the bed. She lifted the coverlet and probed with the black cane. No matter how Callie squirmed and backed away from it, the black stick found her, poking and prodding and hurting.
    "Leave her where she is. We know where to find her." Once more the door closed and Callie heard the lock click into place.
    An hour later the door to her room opened again. This time there was no conversation, and no nonsense. Two men she had never seen before accompanied the footman and Mrs. Peach. Without a preliminary word they lifted the entire bed from over her. One man reached down and jerked her to her feet.
    "Get dressed," Mrs. Peach ordered.
    Callie ran to the cupboard. She grabbed the first dress her hand touched and clutched it to her. Fearfully she looked from the three men to Mrs. Peach.
    Mrs. Peach smirked. "You'll get used to the likes of them oglin' you. Get on with it."
    Callie stood rooted, the dress pressed harder against her. She shook her head woodenly.
    Mrs. Peach raised her cane. "You'll do as I say!"
    "I can't ... make them leave . . . please."
    Mrs. Peach struck the cane flat against the table top, making Callie jump and gasp in fright. "Off with that gown, girlie. You're wastin time and my patience. We haven't all night."

    Callie began to whimper. Her hands shook so violently she fumbled with the gown.
    Mrs. Peach poked roughly at her with the cane. Shaking and crying, Callie managed to pull the nightgown over her head. Mrs. Peach grabbed for the gown, but Callie hung on to it. "Oh, no . . . please . . . please. Make them turn around."
    With a deft stroke of the cane, Mrs. Peach tore the gown from Callie's grasp. "Well, now, that wasn't so bad, was it? It's time you started growing up, dearie. If it weren't for men takin' their pleasures, what place would a woman have? You're past old enough to know that-Shamed, Callie tried to hide herself from their leering eyes. She quickly reached for her underthings. Involuntarily her eyes caught repeated glimpses of the lustful faces of Mrs. Peach's hired men. She crouched over, her back to the wall as she fumbled awkwardly, trying to get her feet into the waistline of her petticoat.
    "Stand up straight! Be proud of what . . " Mrs. Peach stiffened, her head and back rigid as she listened.
    The doorbell jangled through the house, followed by the shrill voices of the girls. Callie hastily put on her petticoat, not bothering with ties or buttons. She dragged her dress over her head.
    Warily Mrs. Peach looked at her men. "It's too soon for the coach to take the girl. Keep her quiet while I see what it is. If it's trouble, take her out the back way. Hide her, and be certain she doesn't make a sound."
    Callie stood mummified, afraid of drawing the attention of the three distracted men if she made a sound. One of the men was looking out the front window. Another leaned out the door trying to hear what

    was going on downstairs. Then Callie heard the unmistakable, strident voice of Mrs. Pettibone in an indignant rage.
    "Well just see about this, Mrs. Peach! I've the police with me now, so none of your hoity-toity nonsense this time. Callie! Callie Dawson! Can you hear me? Are you here, child? Callie?*
    Callie's captors needed no more. "Get the girl!"
    Callie screamed Mrs. Pettibone's name, then ran. With the frightened eyes of a deer at bay, the girl put the table between herself and the men. She