There were few who remembered the building for what it used to be. For years it sat decayed, broken, long dead, but long ago, the large, three level manor was the proud residence of a prominent figure, though no one could remember what he was really known for. Most likely it was some form of violence that drove him from town, leaving his grand home to fall into disrepair. Looters picked it clean, from furniture and belongings, to doors and lumber. The house was barely a shell of the beautiful home it once must have been, and it remained that way for almost a decade.<br/><br/><br/>Only recently, the sad old building saw new life. Fresh paint, a planter box, a repaired and expanded porch, and a lot of rennovations  forced the breath of life into the decaying corpse. No one really knew where the money came from. The house stood straight and proud once more. For weeks, men came and went, hauling furniture and necessities into the house. Now, a year after she moved in, Lila McLure had managed to transform the house into a working business: A home for women, as proclaimed on the proud sign behind the white picket fence.<br/><br/>The house, now kept in perfect repair, maintained a center of focus for the townsfolk despite being situated at the edge of the town. Over time, it became common practice that the women who took up residence saw to the garden, the cooking, the cleaning, and general maintenance. They worked day and night, offering a variety of services to the townsfolk.<br/><br/>Several of the residents ran the kitchen, serving lunch and dinner daily to the workmen who came by. One of the sitting rooms at the back of the house was furnished with tables and chairs for the meal rushes, conveniently located adjacent to the well-equipped kitchen. The cooking, it was commonly known, was always superb. Some of the tenants used their talents with a needle and thread to earn the money they needed to get by, selling embroidered tablecloths, tailoring clothing, and providing repair services. Some spent their days at the church house helping the teacher give lessons and tutor children. Over all, it was a lucrative, honest businessâ€¦ during the day.<br/><br/>No one was fooled by the polished exterior. They knew what went on at night. Lila McLure taught the women a variety of skills, from culinary secrets, to tricks for removing stains from clothing, to those perfect maneuvers to strip a man of his defenses in the bedroom. The girls took appointments after dark, charging a full $3 dollars for an hour, before tip. The last appointments were required to finish and clear out within a half hour after the grandfather clock announced midnight. No one ever had the chance to be with the Lady herself. She took no appointments.<br/><br/>Bethany, the newest girl to rent a room in the McLure House, hesitated in the parlor. The grand mirror standing over the butlerâ€™s table revealed her appearance and she paused to look. The new clothes donated by the other women were big on her, but still she had never seen such luxury. The bruises on her cheek were almost completely faded, her tightly-wrapped ribs hardly pained her at all. She would be 15 years old soon, but in this dress, complete with properly twisted and pinned hair, hat, and handbag, she almost looked full grown. The past sheâ€™d run from was almost a memory. She smiled and tucked the list into her pocket.<br/><br/>The plaque over the door attracted her attention. Rules they all followed:<br/>1: Give forth the respect you expect to receive.<br/>2:  ALL weapons of ANY kind are to be submitted to the Lady of the House immediately upon arrival.<br/>3: In all things, Give more than you receive.<br/>4: Lilaâ€™s word is law.<br/><br/>Humming to herself, she hopped down the porch steps into the early morning sunlight. It was too early to be this hot, but the baking heat did nothing to diminish her smile. She was alive. She was safe. No one would ever find her. She closed the front gate behind her, practically skipping her way down the road on her way to the Mercantile.<br/><br/><br/>The curtains over a window on the top floor fluttered slightly before moving aside, pulled by a delicate hand. The shadows inside completely concealed the woman who watched Beth go, as well as the smile that touched her face to see the girl so happy.<br/><br/>â€œThatâ€¦â€ Lila Mclure said into the empty room, â€œIs well worth all of it.â€<br/><br/>The tinkling bell over the door announced Bethâ€™s arrival into the Mercantile. Old Man Winter, as everyone called him, looked up from his ledger. His aged face, framed by a thinning mess of curly white hair, split into a genuine, kindly smile. For such a rough town, Beth reflected, this man certainly gave a softened appearance. She doubted he was truly as gentle as he seemed<br/><br/>â€œ â€™Lo, Mr. Weathersâ€¦â€ she smiled as she approached the counter.<br/><br/>â€œLila sent ya with the weekâ€™s order, did she?â€ the old man gave a little chuckle as he set the ledger aside.<br/><br/>â€œShe did,â€ the girl replied, reaching into her pocket to produce the list, â€œAnâ€™ she says oim ta tell yeh tanks fer helpin wit teh trouble lasâ€™ week.â€<br/><br/>â€œAh, nowâ€¦â€ the old man nodded, still smiling, â€œIt were no trouble. Seeinâ€™ you on your feet is all the thanks I needed. How are you likinâ€™ the McLure House? Settlinâ€™ in alright?â€<br/><br/>â€œSheâ€™s a right dove, is Mrs. McLure. Iâ€™ll get used to theâ€¦ well it aint what oim used ta. Can I ask ya sumthin?â€<br/><br/>â€œAsk away, dear. This old man can use the break from numbersâ€¦â€<br/><br/>â€œDoes she â€˜ave no family? She never takes a-â€¦â€ she blushed, looking around, â€œWell, ah never see her with anyone.â€<br/><br/>â€œAh, yesâ€¦â€ the old man nodded, knowing full well what she meant, â€œYouâ€™ve found the mystery that keeps us all gabbinâ€™. She never says a thing about her past. I asked her outright once. Put me in my place but good, she did.â€<br/><br/>The conversation lasted only a few minutes more, ending when the girl suddenly remembered her promise to hurry back. Smiling brightly, she skipped her way down the lane back the way sheâ€™d come.