Betty: The Rebel: The Pine Lake Girls

By Jane Yunker

It's 1919, and Betty Young has always loved Harry Barnes, but he was engaged to marry Alice Armstrong, her best friend. Bound and determined to have him for herself, Betty tricked him into marrying her instead. Now that she has the husband and big city society life she always wanted, is she living her dream, or a nightmare?

 

Prohibition is the law and women are fighting for the right to vote. Betty's eyes are opened by the disparity between the lives of those around her and the immigrants living in the Minneapolis neighborhood known as Bohemian Flats. Exciting doors are opening for her out in the world away from her small hometown of Pine Lake, Wisconsin.

 

But at what cost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Yunker
• Release date: Aug 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201990688

Jane Yunker

Jane Yunker is a poet and fiction writer living in northwest Wisconsin along the beautiful and inspirational St. Croix River. When she's not writing, you can find her walking the many trails, golfing, or playing with her grandson in sunny south Florida. You can read her blog at: www.janeyunkerauthor.com. Follow her on Facebook at: facebook.com/JaneYunkerAuthor.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Spring 1914: Pine Lake, Wisconsin

BETTY YOUNG STRUGGLED to concentrate on her copy of Hamlet.

To be, or not to be what? A butcher? A milk and egg man? A postman?

She looked up through her lashes to see if their freshman English Literature teacher, Mr. Thomas, was watching. He was writing their assignment for the next day on the board, his back turned to them. Scribbling a quick note and carefully tearing it from her notebook, she passed it across the aisle to her best friend, Alice Armstrong.

Alice scowled at her but took it.

Are you eating lunch with Harry again?

Alice nodded.

Harry Barnes was a junior and the handsomest boy in school. Not to mention, the best athlete Pine Lake High ever had.

Alice slipped the note back to her.

Lizzie, Fin, and Jack, too. You?

Betty read it and smiled.

Is there something you girls would like to share with the rest of us? Mr. Thomas took the note from Betty’s hand.

She had been so busy thinking about Harry, she hadn’t noticed they’d been seen. Every head in the room turned. Some of the girls giggled. Lizzie shook her head.

He fixed his pince-nez on the bridge of his nose and read. Apparently, our Miss Young is more concerned about who’s eating lunch with whom, than whether or not Hamlet is better alive or dead.

More laughter.

Alive or dead. To be, or not to be. So that was what Shakespeare meant. Why didn’t he just say so? And why would Hamlet want to die? I’ll have to ask Alice later. She’ll know, and it’s bound to be on the test.

Since Miss Young and Miss Armstrong have so much free time, they can double their reading assignment for tonight.

Betty moaned. Alice glared at her.

He scanned the room over his glasses. I think, perhaps, the entire class should do the same.

Her classmates were no longer laughing. Betty sunk low in her seat, keeping her eyes focused on her lap.

Mr. Thomas stared down at her. What do you think, Miss Young? Do you think the entire class should have double the reading assignment for tonight?

No, sir, Mr. Thomas, she said in barely a whisper.

He tilted his head toward Alice. What do you think, Miss Armstrong?

No, sir.

He nodded, letting out a slow breath. I agree.

Betty looked up in surprise. Was he actually changing his mind?

The bell rang.

You may be excused for lunch. Mr. Thomas returned to the front of the room, crumpling Betty’s note and dropping it into the wastebasket by his desk.

Johnnie Erikson raised his hand. What about our assignment?

It’s on the board, Mr. Thomas said with a wave of his hand. You can thank our beautiful spring weather, not Miss Young or Miss Armstrong, for my magnanimous act of clemency. Now go. He sat, removed his lunch from his bottom desk drawer, and turned his attention to a stack of papers.

Alice tugged on Betty’s arm. Let’s get out of here before he changes his mind again.

Lizzie Hudson waited for them in the hall. Betty refused to slow down so she had to hurry to keep up. There was only five minutes left until the bell, Betty. Why couldn’t you wait to talk to Alice?

Because I couldn’t, she snapped. Besides, Shakespeare’s a terrible bore.

Alice stopped outside the principal’s office. I have to ask dad something quick. I’ll meet everyone outside.

Betty smiled. I’ll tell Harry. She fairly ran down the school stairs to the first floor and outside, hoping to have as much time alone with Harry as possible.

Lizzie ran after her, struggling to catch her breath. Harry’s what your note was about, wasn’t it?

Betty spun around. You know, Lizzie, if you ate fewer cookies, you could lose enough weight to not always be so out of breath. The look on Lizzie’s face told her she’d gone too far. I’m sorry. I’m still upset about Mr. Thomas, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. She loved her friends, both Lizzie and Alice, and never meant to hurt them. Only sometimes she acted without thinking first.

Fred Finley, Fin by his friends, jumped up from where he’d been sitting in the shade with Harry. There’s my pretty Lizzie. He took her lunch pail and led her over to where Betty had already settled herself comfortably next to Harry.

Harry took a bite of his sandwich. Why the long face on such a beautiful day, Lizzie?

I guess I’m still thinking about English class.

Fin peeked into Lizzie’s lunch pail. Are those oatmeal raisin cookies? They’re my favorite. He started to reach in, then hesitated. May I?

Of course. Lizzie smiled. I brought them for you.

Betty hoped one day she’d have a man who loved her as much as Fin loved Lizzie.

Harry sat up straight. Hey, Lizzie, did you bring any for me?

Fin looked again. Nope, he said, his mouth full of cookie. Only enough for me.

Harry laughed. Betty loved the sound of his laugh, deep and loud. The way his eyes sparkled. No one else she knew was as happy and carefree as Harry Barnes.

Next time bring some for me, too, he said.

I will. But Fin always gets first choice.

Understood. He smiled. In the meantime, I wonder what Alice has for me in her lunch pail.

Betty reached out and touched Harry’s arm. I’ll bake a whole batch of cookies for you, Harry. Whatever kind you want.

He turned toward the school, ignoring her. When his face lit up, she knew it meant only one thing. Alice.

Sorry I took so long, but look who I found loitering outside dad’s office waiting to walk me out. Alice slipped her arm around Jack’s waist and hugged him. Wasn’t it sweet of him?

Jack Barnes shrugged, his cheeks turning pink.

Betty forced a smile. It seemed everyone except Alice knew Harry’s younger brother, Jack, was in love with her.

Harry scowled. He also knew his brother had an eye on his girl. Move over Betty. Give Alice some room.

Betty’s heart fell. Why couldn’t Harry let Jack have Alice? She reluctantly picked up her lunch to switch places with her friend.

No. No. Alice waved a hand at her to stay where she was. I’m fine here by Jack. She took his lunch pail from him, making it easier for him sit.

When Jack was nine, he’d fallen from a tree. He’d climbed too high, higher than Harry, when the limb broke. His leg shattered and was now shorter and weaker than the other. He wore a brace and used a cane. Harry had told him not to do it. It wasn’t safe. He did it anyway. Harry was punished, which wasn’t fair.

But she also felt sorry for Jack. She understood his desire to be better than Harry at something.

So, what’s up? Jack’s boyish grin made even Betty smile. Are we still on for a baseball game tomorrow morning? Should be another beautiful day.

THE NEXT MORNING, BETTY adjusted her hat in the hall mirror. It had a nice broad brim to keep the sun off her face. Her flawless porcelain complexion was her crowning glory. Unlike Alice, who was always removing her hat, allowing her face to tan and freckle in the summer sun. When it was time for Harry to take over his father’s bank, he’d need a wife suitable in both appearance and comportment to stand by his side. She was certain the day would come when he would realize she was the better choice for him.

If she thought marrying Harry would leave her friend all alone, she would feel sorry for her. But there would always be Jack for Alice. Jack was a better match for her, anyway.

Before leaving the house, she made a final review of her basket. Plenty of lemonade and an entire batch of oatmeal raisin cookies for Harry. Movie magazines to read while watching the game . . . unlike Alice and Lizzie, she would not be playing . . . and a blanket to sit on.

Most everyone was there by the time Betty arrived. Alice and Lizzie helped her spread her blanket under the nearest tree.

You should play, Lizzie took Betty’s basket from her. Looking inside, she pulled out a magazine. Instead of reading these silly things. You used to be a great left fielder.

Alice nodded. You had the best arm of the three of us.

Betty shook her head. We were children then. We’re not children anymore. We’re fourteen, almost full-grown women, and we need to start thinking about attracting suitable husbands. You two might want to keep that in mind when you’re running around out there in the sun, sweating and getting dirty like boys.

I’m going to marry Fin, Lizzie said, helping herself to a cookie.

Hey! I made those for Harry.

He won’t miss one, Lizzie said with a giggle.

Or two. Alice took one, as well.

Betty moved her basket over to where they couldn’t reach it.

Don’t be mad. Alice gave her a hug. Pine Lake Girls, friends forever. Right?

Betty put the basket where everyone could reach it. Friends forever, she agreed. She never could stay mad at them for long.

Harry plopped down next to Alice and leaned over to look in the basket. Are those cookies?

Did we hear there are cookies? Fin and Jack joined them.

Yes. Oatmeal raisin. I baked them for Harry seeing as Fin didn’t share his yesterday.

Harry took a bite, closed his eyes, and nodded. Delicious. This was awful nice of you, Betty. Here guys, help yourselves. A little energy before the game. He passed the basket around. Soon there was only one cookie left. Harry gave it to her.

She should be upset with him for giving away the cookies she baked special for him, but that was Harry. His happy-go-lucky nature, his generosity, was why everyone loved him. And it didn’t hurt when he medaled in every sport he ever played. Not to mention his all-over good looks.

It was why every boy wanted to be him, and every girl wanted to be with him. It was why she was going to marry him some day.

Let’s play ball. Harry leapt to his feet and ran out onto the field.

CHAPTER 1

January 1919: Minneapolis, Minnesota

BETTY BARNES WIPED frost from the train window, hoping to see if anyone other than her mother had come to see them off. It was January first, the beginning of a new year and a new life. The holidays were over, and it was time to return to Minneapolis as Mrs. Harry Barnes.

Her mother waved one last time when their eyes met before hurrying away through the Wisconsin cold. She’d be anxious to return to the hotel restaurant to oversee the kitchen. Betty scanned the station platform, looking for Lizzie and her new husband Fin. Lizzie used to be her friend. Fin and Harry fought together in France, but even they didn’t seem to get along anymore.

Alice was the one everyone expected to marry Harry. Instead, a week earlier Alice left Pine Lake for a private nursing position in Bay Waters, running from the humiliation of being the jilted fiancé. Just the thought of Alice made Betty’s eyes well with tears. Do you think Alice will ever forgive me, Harry?

Would you? he snapped from behind his newspaper.

Probably not, she admitted to herself with a sigh.

Betty had made sure to assert herself in the middle of her friends’ crumbling relationship. She’d followed Harry to Minneapolis, got him drunk, then tricked him into having sex with her. After, a few well-planned tears, talk of a possible pregnancy, and they were standing in front of a judge. It wasn’t the wedding she’d always imagined, but it was the groom she’d always wanted.

Betty knew she should be happy. Instead, there was a lump in her stomach making her wonder if she’d done the right thing. The Pine Lake girls were no more. She got everything she ever thought she wanted, but lost so much more. When her monthly courses came right on schedule, and it was clear there was no baby, even Harry turned his back on her. If it were possible, he was drinking even more than before. When he negatively compared her chocolate cake to Alice’s, and it was the exact same recipe, she knew she’d won the battle but not the war. He was still in love with Alice. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d have to devise a way to win his affection. Perhaps when he saw she was the better society wife he needed to climb the business ladder.

The train whistle let out its shrill cry. They pulled away from the station, slowly gathering steam.

I was thinking about Lizzie and Alice and the good times we had growing up. She forced a smile. Pine Lake girls, friends forever. Remember?

Harry lowered his newspaper at the mention of Alice’s name, scowled, and looked out the window at the passing snow-covered trees. He closed his one good eye and rubbed his forehead.

Betty thought his eye patch and scars made him more handsome, although she knew he wouldn’t agree. He’d been injured fighting the Germans over in France. Even though everyone called him a hero, some people still found him hard to look at without turning away. She heard Alice fainted the first time she saw him. Even he was repulsed by his reflection in the mirror. She saw the way he flinched and looked away.

She would make it her mission to tell him every day how much she loved him, how his injuries didn’t matter to her. She would do this for as long as it took until he believed her and could look at himself in the mirror and smile.

Does your head hurt? She knew he had to be horribly hungover after all the drinking he’d done at Dooley’s Tavern the night before. Drinking too much and angry outbursts were also new problems. He wasn’t like this before he went to fight. He was the fun-loving, all-around athlete Harry.

She absent-mindedly touched the bruise on her cheek. It was merely a green shadow of its original state. But she’d spent extra time attempting to hide it under her face powder before the train. Harry never meant to hit her. Sometimes it was the nightmares. Sometimes it was his drinking. It was always the war.

Doc noticed it at the station the week before when they’d come to say goodbye to Alice. He’d asked her about it, but it was obvious by their pitying looks no one believed the ridiculous excuse she made about running into a doorjamb.

Forget about them, Harry growled. Leave them and their small lives in their small town. He reopened the day’s newspaper with a crisp snap and buried himself in the business section.

Betty looked down at her lap and smoothed out the wrinkles in her coat. She missed her friends. Maybe, in time, all would be forgiven, if not forgotten. No one could miss the way Alice now looked at Jack. She was beginning to see for herself how he was a better match for her than Harry ever was.

Harry was hers, even if she did have to trick him into marriage. She wasn’t pregnant now, but she soon would be. They’d buy a house and fill it with children. Harry would see she was the right choice.

In the meantime, she would make new friends in Minneapolis. The right kind of friends, as he would say.

Harry, don’t forget Jonathan and Cordelia Cavendish are hosting their winter soiree this weekend. Betty’s heart quickened at the thought of attending her first big social event. She’d heard the Cavendish invites were coveted by everyone who was anyone. Lucky for her, Harry worked for Mr. Cavendish so they were likely to be invited to all the best parties.

Harry grunted, not looking up from his stock reports.

I’ll need a new dress, she continued.

That got his attention. He almost dropped his newspaper this time. What’s wrong with what you have? You’ve done nothing but shop since you arrived in Minneapolis. It’s going to take me months to pay off your bills.

Darling, she purred. None of them are appropriate to wear to the event of the season. You want me to make a good impression with the other wives, don’t you? This is the first chance you have to show me off. She’d hit him in his weak spot—vanity.

Fine, he reluctantly conceded. But only one new dress and try not to spend my entire first year’s salary.

Of course. She moved next to him, looped her arm through his, and kissed his cheek. I love you, Harry Barnes. She smiled and kissed him again.

An older woman sitting alone across the aisle from them smiled. Betty smiled back. We’re still newlyweds, she explained.

Betty, remember where we are. You’re embarrassing yourself.

She giggled and returned to her seat, retrieving a movie magazine from the carpet bag at her feet.

And put that gossip rag away, he snapped. There will be none of that trash in my house. Do you understand?

She tucked it back in her bag. Of course, darling. She’d have to hide them in the future and only look at them when he wasn’t home.

Betty spent the rest of their trip weighing her options in dress styles and colors. She would need shoes to match and a new clutch. She needn’t bother Harry with the trivial details. It was certainly understood a new dress included the appropriate accessories.

Lucky for her, Harry’s mother, the formidable Margaret Barnes, had given her a beautiful mink coat, hat, and muff for Christmas. They would be more than suitable for a Cavendish society event.

IN MINNEAPOLIS, HARRY held out a hand to help her step safely down from the train. A bitter wind grabbed at her skirts. She pulled her collar up tighter around her neck and cheeks, sunk her hands deep in the soft muff.

Wait inside. I’ll see to our bags. Harry walked away with the nearest porter.

Betty followed the other passengers into the lobby where it was crowded, but at least warm.

A commotion at the doors to the street had heads turning. Let go of me! a woman screamed.

Two men elbowed each other, exchanging crude comments about what nocturnal activities the woman wasn’t getting enough of, and laughed. Their wives shut them down with a glare. Others in the crowd either watched in silence or ignored the confrontation all together.

Betty edged her way through a group of men blocking her view. A petite woman struggled in the grasp of two police officers nearly twice her size. Her hat worked itself lose from its pins and slid down over one ear. A lock of her raven hair hung over her face, shining blue-black in a beam of winter sunlight through the doors held open by a nervous looking porter. Dropped leaflets blew about her feet.

All right, Miss, one officer said between gritted teeth. You can’t be passing out incendiary trash and not expect trouble. They half-dragged her through the doors.

She twisted out of their grip, spinning around to face them again. This is a free country, and I have every right to be here. I promise you haven’t seen the last of me.

Betty picked up a leaflet blowing against her skirt. It was a call for women’s rights, including the vote. What an amazing thing it would be, but she knew it would never happen.

She looked up and made eye contact with the woman whose courage was greater than her diminutive size. The woman tucked her hair behind her ear, straightened her hat, and lifted her chin in the air.

I promise, my sisters and I will be back, the woman said.

The officers quietly closed the doors on her, and the people returned to their business as if nothing had happened, leaving Betty staring open-mouthed.

Harry came up behind her. What was that about? He took the leaflet from her