Read Online Tracie Peterson - [New Mexico Sunset 03] by Angel's Cause - Free Book Online

a man approached Willa with an narrowing of his eyes that quickly told Angeline he wasn’t a supporter of the “cause.”
    “Madam,” the man began in a loud enough voice that everyone around immediately fell silent. “I have listened to you suffragettes from one end of this country to the other. You spout about rights that were never extended to you, because frankly, Madam, they were never necessary. Proper women, women who are biblical-minded as you so clearly like to associate your cause with, seek the protection and authority of men. Men, whom I might add, the good Lord made first and put in charge of everything else.” At this, a roar of approval went up from the crowd.
    “Sir, proper women are women who seek to do their best. They are women who, knowing God gave them many gifts, choose not to waste a single one. They seek not to usurp the authority of man, but to augment the benefits they might offer their fellow human beings.”
    The man made several notes on a tablet before questioning Willa again. This time the attack was far more personal, and an ugliness was born of the group that startled Angeline.
    “Why is it, Madam, that all of you suffragettes are homely, spinster-type women, who obviously can’t seem to attract the attention of a man any other way than to try to steal the pants from him?” The people surrounding them roared in laughter, and Angeline moved closer to Douglas, feeling fearful that things might get physical as Willa had warned her had happened on occasion.
    Without any warning, Willa seemed to part the crowd with the wave of her hand and pulled Angeline forward. “This lovely young woman is my assistant. Perhaps you would like to tell her how homely and spinster-like she is.”
    The man stared at the stunned-faced Angeline and smiled. “No, Madam,” he said to Willa, and a broad smile crossed his face. “I doubt anyone could accuse this beauty of being homely.”
    Angeline wanted to crawl into the nearest hole, but Willa’s hand firmly gripped her arm and moving away was out of the question. The man quickly motioned to someone, and Angeline blinked her surprise when a man thrust a camera into her face and started snapping pictures. The flash blinded her momentarily, but Angeline stood fast.
    “Tell me, Miss,” the man began.
    “Her name is Angeline Monroe. She is the very model of virtue and grace,” Willa stated for the newspaperman.
    “Tell me, Miss Monroe,” he began again with pencil in hand, “do you honestly support the cause of suffrage and if so, why?”
    Angeline felt Willa’s hand tighten on her arm, but she wasn’t schooled enough to know this was her mentor’s signal to remain silent. Willa opened her mouth the speak but found Angeline’s soft voice answering instead.
    “I hold the highest regard for womanhood. I believe that God has given women a very special place on this earth, and that place is neither to usurp the man’s place, nor to exceed it.” The crowd grew completely silent as everyone strained to hear the delicate voice.
    “My own mother is an intelligent woman who works at the side of my father, a physician. She is often consulted for her opinion, and my father, even with his college training, supports and honors my mother as a colleague. Other women I know are just as resourceful and just as important. And, Sir, I find it sad indeed that you seem to place a woman’s value only in her appearance. One cannot always help the way one looks. Should we scorn the cripple because he,” Angeline paused, “or she, cannot walk as we do with strong, sturdy legs? Do we not love the unlovable, just as Christ did when He walked this earth?”
    The man stopped writing and stared at Angeline in earnest. Several women in the crowd dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs, while their men stared down at their feet and shifted uncomfortably.
    “The Lord made us all,” Angeline continued. “Who are we to condemn that which He created? You, Sir, report the