She groped for a thread of hope. What if she and Papa waited things out? Maybe the wave of gossip and rumor would ebb and eventually fade from everyone’s memories.

But if people made up their minds that she wasn’t respectable, they might force her to carry the taint for as long as she lived in LaForge. She and Papa would have to leave town to escape it.

Hanna ate only two bites of her dinner. When Papa went upstairs for his Sunday afternoon nap, she put on her bonnet and went out the back door. The beginnings of a plan had come to her.

Miss Walters lived on Second Street, east of Main. Hanna did not have to walk up Main Street; she could get to the Walters place through the alleys. She reached the house and knocked on the front door, hoping that it would be Miss Walters who answered and not her mother or brother, with whom she lived.

“Hanna?”

Thankfully, Miss Walters came to the door herself. Distraught, Hanna cut short her greetings. “Hello, miss. I need to ask you something.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“No—no, thank you, miss.”

Miss Walters stepped outside. She led Hanna around to the back of the house, where there was a bench against the lean-to wall. They sat down side by side.

“Papa heard that—that people aren’t going to come to our shop opening. And maybe not going to buy goods there at all.”

“I’m sorry, Hanna.”

She did not ask why, which meant that she had heard the whispers. Hanna felt ashamed even as she battled against the feeling.

“Miss, I wanted to ask if—if you thought it would do any good for me to go around town and—and call on people. On the women. To try to change their minds and get them to come to the shop.” The thought of doing such a thing made her feel almost sick with misery. “I could tell them what really happened. It wasn’t my fault—I swear it wasn’t, miss.”

“I believe you, Hanna,” Miss Walters said quietly. She paused, then added, “It’s not the first time that Mr. Swenson has been involved in—in unpleasant altercations.”

Hanna inhaled sharply. “If that’s so, miss, the ladies might . . . might listen to what I have to say—” She stopped, seeing misgiving in Miss Walters’s eyes.

For a few long moments, neither of them spoke.

“If I were you,” Miss Walters said slowly, “I think I would let things alone for a while.” Kindly, she put a hand on Hanna’s arm. “This may be one of those times when least said, soonest mended.”

Hanna’s head bowed as she shrank into herself. Miss Walters was acquainted with almost every family in town and would surely know better than Hanna how they might react to her calling on them. “Yes, miss.”