And she divided large jobs into stages so she could work steadily without exhausting herself before the day was finished.
Her size affected how she moved through the world.
It did not make her unintelligent, incapable of affection, or unworthy of respect.
Yet many people saw only her body.
They laughed before tasting her cooking.
They judged her before hearing her speak.
And sometimes, as happened that evening, they treated the physical space she occupied as permission to humiliate her.
The widow never did.
She called Loretta her strongest worker, not because she expected her to perform impossible feats, but because she understood how much patience and intelligence were required to keep the cookhouse operating.
Then, in the spring, the widow died.
She had no children nearby.
Her small estate was complicated by debts, and the mining company claimed that several unpaid supply contracts gave it the right to take control of the cookhouse's operation.
Loretta remained.
She had no savings large enough to start over.
No family willing to take her in.
And no reason to believe that another town would treat her more kindly.
So she agreed to continue cooking while the company's representatives reviewed the business.
At first, the arrangement seemed temporary.
Then the demands increased.
The miners' meals were charged against company vouchers.
The company delayed paying Loretta for those vouchers.
And Bram Kincaid began using the cookhouse as though it belonged to him personally.
If a miner complained about his supper, Bram threatened to deduct the cost from Loretta's wages.
If supplies arrived late, he blamed her.
If a man became drunk and damaged furniture, Bram told her to clean it up.
The meals grew larger.
The staff grew smaller.
And the money she was supposed to receive never seemed to arrive in full.
By the winter of 1887, Loretta was working harder than ever.
And falling further into debt.
She knew something was wrong with the accounts.
But every time she asked to examine the figures, the company clerk told her she didn't understand business.
She understood enough to know that fifty suppers couldn't be prepared without meat, flour, fuel, labor, and time.
She also understood that somebody was collecting money for meals she hadn't been paid to serve.
But understanding a problem and having the power to challenge it were very different things.
Especially in a mining camp controlled by men who believed an enormous woman with nowhere else to go would eventually accept whatever they told her.