The Western Chronicles
by B L Miller and Vada Foster
32: Just Desserts
Typical of most mornings in the saloon, the women were all gathered around the tables, enjoying breakfast and each other's company before the patrons arrived. Rebecca sat with Victoria at a small table near the stairs, drinking coffee and listening to the brown headed woman talk about her new room and the differences between this whorehouse and the one she left behind in Rosewood. Josie sat with Sandy, quietly drinking coffee and catching up with her old friend. A tall thin man walked in, his walking stick tapping on the floor in cadence to his steps. The room suddenly quieted and Sandy exchanged a worried look with Josie before rising to meet him halfway.
"Miss Sandy," he said none too politely as he surveyed the room, taking in the sight of the new women. He stroked his handlebar mustache thoughtfully.
"Look, Sam, I've done already paid you for this week." She tried to sound forceful, but her genuine fear prevailed. Sam smiled wickedly.
"Ah, but you didn't pay me enough. Why, I see you have some new ones. I do believe that makes the price higher, don't you?" He reached forward and pulled a small roll of bills out from between the madam's ample breasts. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor was heard as Josie rose to her feet quickly, her right hand hovering just over her shooting irons. Sam shoved the whore out of his way and stood directly in front of the woman in black. "You don't look like the type to be spreading your legs, so you best just get back to your own business," he spoke threateningly, yet his eyes remained fixed on Josie's weapons. The gunslinger desperately wanted to introduce her fist to his teeth but the madam stepped between them.
"Look, there's no need for this kind of talk," Sandy said, trying to diffuse the situation. "You got what you came for, so git out and leave us alone."
Sam looked around, paying close attention to the women's faces, noting which ones were scared of him and which weren't. "Nice merchandise, Miss Sandy. Perhaps I might just have me a sample or two, hmm?" he said lecherously, his mind filling with thoughts of one of the women lying helpless beneath him. A thin sneer formed on his lips. "I'll be back," he said before turning and leaving, the tapping of his walking stick echoing off into the distance. Josie waited until the sound was completely gone before sitting back down. Sandy joined her and sat quietly for a moment, letting the tension ease a bit before speaking. The other women resumed their conversations, although several still cast nervous glances at the doorway. Sandy motioned for the bartender and within seconds a full bottle of whiskey and two glasses were placed on her table. She filled them both before speaking.
"He's Sam Hutchins. Owns the bank, the brewery, just about anything in town that has a profit to it," she said solemnly, wishing that the cactus juice could take away her feeling of dread.
"What's his business with you?" Josie asked as she looked around the room again, making brief eye contact with Rebecca and smiling before turning her attention back to the blonde madam.
"He holds the note to the saloon."
"So he thinks that he owns everything..." Josie lowered her voice in disgust. "...and everyone in it."
"That'd be about right," Sandy replied, reaching down to pick up Bobo. "We pay the mortgage but he still demands more, a part of the profit each week."
"Is he dangerous?"
"No, just greedier than a prospector. Thinks he's entitled to whatever he wants."
Josie finished her drink and looked at her friend. "Do you want my help?" The blonde madam immediately stiffened and shook her head.
"No, Josie. There's no need. I can handle him," she said firmly. She would live to regret those words.
It was late afternoon when the men came pouring in from their day of labor. Everyone was known by name and greeted with hearty handshakes and smiles when they entered. Josie had long ago traded her cactus juice for ale, drinking slowly to keep her senses alert. There had been no sign of Hutchins since he left five hours ago, but the gunslinger still felt uneasy and insisted on staying. Rebecca passed the time chatting with Victoria until the customers started coming in. Josie decided that her young friend didn't need to see her friends working and took her back to the boarding house. In the hour after they left, the saloon became so busy that no one noticed Sam Hutchins enter and go up the stairs.
He hid in a small vestibule and watched a door open and two people exit. The man tipped his hat and headed down the stairs. The brown-headed woman leaned over the railing and caught the attention of Sandy, indicating with her gestures that she was taking a break. The blonde madam nodded and went back to her duties. The young woman returned to her room. Locking the door behind her, she sat down in front of her small dresser and began to brush her hair, not paying attention to the image in the mirror until it was too late. Sam lunged forward, wrapping one arm around her throat and pulling her from the chair. With all the sounds of lust and passion coming from the rooms, no one heard the small yelp before she was gagged.
Sandy knocked on the door. "Victoria?" When there was no answer she knocked again. "Victoria, unlock the door."
"What's going on?" Elaine asked as she came out of her room. Her last customer of the night had left a short time ago and she was getting ready for bed when she heard the blonde woman's poundings on the door across the hall.
"Victoria must have fallen asleep or something. The door's locked and no one's seen her in a few hours," she said as she reached in her pocket for the set of skeleton keys she kept there. Elaine became concerned and pounded hard on the door, shaking it on the hinges and drawing the other women from their rooms. They were asking each other if they knew what was going on as they all crowded around Victoria's door. Sandy turned the key and opened the door. Elaine rushed over to the bed, pulling the battered woman into her arms and removing the gag from her mouth. The curtain flapped against the frame of the open window.
"I'll get the doc," Stacey said, heading for the stairs. Sandy ran out of the room and caught the redhead at the landing.
"Doc Brooks met Saint Peter last week. Cheating at cards, I think. He never cared none for doctoring us anyway," the blonde woman said. Elaine came out of the room and shut the door behind her. Everyone quieted down and looked at her, waiting for news.
"She says it's the man with the curly mustache."
"Sam!" Sandy said in disgust. She turned to the redhead. "Get
Josie."
Josie reached over and took the large book out from under the blonde's nose and closed it. She'd been watching Rebecca reading the same paragraph for the better part of an hour. "I think it's time to visit the sandman, sprite. Let's go," she put her hand around the smaller woman's upper arm and helped her stand up. Rebecca stretched and groaned as her body moved for the first time in hours.
"Yeah, I think...(yawn)...you're right." She had been reading about the skeletal structure of the human body and found it too fascinating to put down, even when her eyes had trouble staying focused. She looked at the inviting pillow and aimed for it with her tired body only to be stopped by the gunslinger's strong arms.
"Hold your horses there. You're not going to sleep in your boots. My shins wouldn't survive the way you toss about," Josie said as she turned Rebecca around and sat her down on the edge of the bed. She debated about helping the young woman when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps made the decision for her. The gunslinger moved to the side of the door and readied her Colt, holding it up in position to press against the head of the intruder. She unlocked the door and turned the handle slowly.
Stacey reached out to pound on the door when it suddenly flew open before her and she was roughly pulled inside and looking down the barrel of Josie's gun. A split second later the gun was withdrawn and back in its holster. "What's wrong?" the gunslinger barked while ushering her back out the door. The look on the redhead's face told her without a doubt that something had happened at the saloon.
"Victoria's hurt. That damn banker came back and...."
"Rebecca, grab the saddlebag!" Josie interrupted. The young woman did as ordered and within seconds they were heading down the stairs, Rebecca now very wide awake.
Rebecca almost cried out when she saw the battered face of her friend.
Victoria's right eye was swollen shut, a crimson line of blood trailed from her nose. Her disheveled brown hair only added to the appearance of being run over by a wagon train. The blonde was relieved and a bit confused to see Victoria still clothed. She looked at Elaine expectantly. The black headed woman shook her head, causing Rebecca to let out a sigh of relief. Josie was about to reach for the saddlebag when the young blonde moved to the edge of the bed and set it down beside her, opening the flap and rummaging through it looking for the strips of cloth they used for bandages. Without saying a word, the gunslinger motioned for everyone else to move away from the bed. Sandy followed that up with gestures for the women to leave the room. Only Josie, Sandy, and Stacey remained behind to watch the young woman care for her friend.
Her hands trembled slightly from nervousness as she wet the strip of cloth. As delicately as she could, Rebecca gently wiped the blood that had run from Victoria's nose down to her chin. "You're gonna be just fine," she said softly. The brown-headed woman nodded and let a dry, cracked sound come from her lips. "Shh...don't try to talk," her soothing tone and gentle touch calmed the battered woman. Rebecca reached over and poured some water from the pitcher into a tin cup. Using her left arm to support Victoria's head, she lifted her up and placed the cup to her lips. It was then that Rebecca noticed the split lip, previously hidden by the bloody nose. "Stitches," she said quietly. Rebecca swallowed nervously as she realized that all the hours of sewing practice were about to be tested for the first time on a person. She forced her hands not to tremble as she reached into the side pouch and pulled out the needle and thread kept for that purpose. She narrowed her concentration, blocking out the other women in the room and focusing on the task at hand. Belle's voice echoed in her head, reminding her to make small, neat stitches. She took Victoria's hand and pressed it against the cloth on her lip. "Hold this."
With ease born of practice, Rebecca threaded the needle, making a small knot in the end of the thread. She placed her hand reassuringly on the prostitute's shoulder. "Everything will be fine, Victoria, but your lip is cut pretty bad." She held up the needle and thread so the battered woman could see them. The young woman waited until her friend nodded in understanding. "This may hurt," Rebecca said apologetically as she pulled the cloth away and studied the uneven gash. In her mind's eye, she saw exactly where each stitch had to go to properly seal up the wound. Still, the idea of actually putting the needle and thread through a person's skin caused her stomach to churn. She closed her eyes for a moment and waited for the queasy feeling to pass. After a moment she opened them, the cloud of doubt and hesitation now gone. Victoria lay very still as she watched her friend bring the needle slowly to her lip. Although she trusted Rebecca, she still flinched and turned her head when she felt the pressure of the point against her skin. The young woman stopped and pulled back a bit, placing the cloth back over the bleeding wound. The direct approach was not going to work. "Victoria, do you know the story about Jim Bowie and the Alamo?" she asked, leaning over and dabbing at the wound with the cloth in one hand while bringing the needle closer. The brown-headed woman shook her head slightly. "Well, lucky for you I do." Rebecca spoke in a tone that made the upcoming story sound interesting. She began her tale, continuing to press down with the cloth as if cleaning the area. She had Victoria's complete attention on her story when she finally pushed the point of the needle through the broken skin.
The battered woman didn't realize what she had done until she saw Rebecca's hand come up, drawing the thread tight. The touch was so gentle, the tones filling her ears so soft that she had no choice but to fall under the spell her friend was weaving. Victoria felt very little discomfort as the needle was passed through again and the thread drawn tight with small, gentle tugs. Rebecca smiled at her. "There, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" she said, continuing to press against the cut with the bloody cloth, maintaining activity in the area. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, he met up with Daniel Boone...."
Josie watched with rapt fascination as Rebecca continued to stitch up the wound. When she had first closed her eyes, the gunslinger had taken a step forward, prepared to take over. But when the green eyes opened with a flash of confidence, Josie decided to stay where she was and watch what happened. She didn't move when Victoria flinched, and was quite impressed by the way Rebecca handled it. The gunslinger realized that her friend had a special talent, not just for healing with her hands, but for soothing with her voice. Josie noted that Victoria no longer had the fearful look in her eyes, but was calmly looking at her friend as she finished suturing the wound. Rebecca continued to tell her story while she looked for more signs of injury. Gone was the look of hesitation and nervousness, replaced by a new-found confidence in her abilities. The bounty hunter understood that a great change had happened to her friend. Rebecca was no longer the frightened young caterpillar she had rescued such a short time ago. The woman she looked at now was undergoing the transformation and Josie knew that it was only a matter of time before a beautiful butterfly emerged to cast her gentle glow over all she touched.
Rebecca listened carefully as Victoria whispered to her the places that hurt. Even that little bit of talking hurt her. The inside of her mouth was cut up from his fist punching her cheek against her teeth time and time again, not to mention the puffy and split lip. There was little more that Rebecca could do for her friend. Most of the remaining injuries were bruises, her face, neck, and upper arms taking the brunt of it. Victoria touched her fingertips to her swollen lip, wincing at the pain. "Guess he done got me good...ow." "Yeah...he did," Rebecca said softly, her green eyes misting up.
"Shh...twer..." she motioned for the water and took a sip, mindful of her lip, before continuing. "...'twernt the first time I got beat." Victoria looked away from her friend unable to face the look of innocence, the innocence she lost so long ago. "Prob'ly won't be the last." Her voice was tinged with the anger she felt welling up inside her. Rebecca placed a gentle hand on her forearm.
"Victoria, it doesn't have to be that way. You can leave this all behind you. Make a new start. We'll help you, if you let us. Everyone deserves a second chance." She spoke in her most convincing tone of voice, yet the brown headed woman maintained the defeated look on her face.
"Whores don't usually git second chances."
"No?" Rebecca reached over, opened the pouch, and pulled out the small bible she had found when she first started following Josie around. She opened it to the New Testament and flipped through until she found the page she was looking for. She took a sip of water and began to read, "Now the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught at adultery, and, after standing her in their midst, they said to him 'Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of committing adultery. In the Law of Moses prescribed for us to stone such sort of women. What, really, do you say?'" She looked up from the book to catch Victoria's eyes with her own. "And do you know what he said? He said 'Let he who is without sin be the first to cast a stone at her.' Victoria, no one threw a stone because no one is above sin. We all make mistakes, and we all deserve a second chance."
Josie motioned for the others to follow her out of the room, confident that her young friend had things well in hand and in fact was probably doing a better job than she would have been able to do. For just a moment she caught the green eyes with her own. The depth of compassion and caring that Josie saw there was too much for her. Suddenly uncomfortable, the gunslinger simply followed the others out, closing the door behind her. She had no doubt that this would be a very long night for both of them. "Sandy, put coffee on," she called out to the blonde woman at the bottom of the stairs.
A short time later, the three women were sitting about one of the small round tables. Not wanting to draw attention to the saloon at such a late hour, they chose to light only one small lamp, setting it on a nearby table. Josie picked up her cup of coffee and leaned back in her chair, resting her booted foot on the table in a most unladylike manner. "Why does he do that?"
Sandy looked down at the half empty cup of coffee. "It's how he gets it done. Can't do it no other way," she let a small smirk cross her face. "You know how he needs that there stick o' his to walk with? Well..." she leaned forward as she shared the secret. "Damn fool was twirling his gun around and shot himself. Ain't got hardly nothing left now." They all had a good laugh at his expense before she continued. "But he still feels, I guess. 'Tain't the first time this happened. Beat three girls so bad they can't work no more, and another...well, she ain't right in the head no more. He up and punched her stupid."
"So what do we do now?" Stacey asked.
"Nothin' we can do," Sandy replied. "I do what I can to keep him away from the girls, but sometimes he still gets through. You know the law ain't gonna touch him just on our say so. We're good enough to go round the mountain with but not good enough to believe over that no good excuse for a man," she said bitterly. "I just hope somebody puts him in a wooden overcoat soon."
"Perhaps sooner than you think," Josie said softly, putting her finger on her lips. Soon they also heard the unmistakable sound of Sam's walking stick tapping the ground as he approached. Stacey reached over and pulled the gun from Josie's left holster. The gunslinger had no time to react as the creak of rusty hinges announced his arrival. She quickly pulled her right gun out and readied it for action. The redhead would have hell to pay later, the gunslinger thought to herself.
"Ladies, why are you sitting in the dark? Surely you won't attract customers that way," he said smugly as he moved over to the bar and lit another lamp, turning the wick up to cast a dark orange light. Sandy rose, followed quickly by Stacey, and walked crossed the floor to meet him halfway. Josie remained in her seat with her gun aimed directly at him from under the table. She knew without looking exactly where her weapon was pointing. With his attention directed at the approaching woman, it was easy for her to reach over and turn the wick down on the lamp near her, leaving it still burning, but too low to cast light on her.
"Get out of here!" Sandy hissed. The redhead stood behind her, the revolver sandwiched between their bodies. "You may not have nothin' else but you sure got balls coming back here after what you done."
"Done?" he said, feigning innocence. "I haven't been here since earlier today. I was in my office all evening." Hutchins stroked the curl of his mustache. "Of course no one saw me," he said with a sly grin.
"You bastard!" Sandy lunged at him, her anger at all the women hurt at his hands flooding through her. Her sudden movement put her between the banker and Josie, blocking any shot she may have had. The gunslinger leapt to her feet, ready to join the fray and protect her friends.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Sam swung his cane, striking Sandy just below the left temple. As the women fell, he raised his arm for another blow. Both Josie and Stacey leveled their weapons. It was the redhead that fired first, striking him in the center of his forehead. The force kicked his head back, causing the gunslinger's bullet to fly harmlessly into the wood behind the bar. His eyes rolled up into his head as a thin stream of blood poured down the front of his face and he pitched backward. His lifeless body landed across the blonde madam's legs. Stacey's hand started shaking violently with the realization of what happened. Josie reached her quickly and wrenched the gun out of her hands, putting it back in its holster. She pulled out a chair and forced the redhead to sit down before she fell down.
The gunshot brought all the women out of their rooms. Rebecca flew down the stairs, her focus solely on Josie and not on the possible danger. The gunslinger rolled Hutchins off Sandy and helped her to her feet just as the young woman reached the bottom of the stairs. The other women looked down from the upstairs railing. Josie's eyes narrowed as she stormed over and grabbed the young woman by the upper arm, pulling her over to a far corner before releasing her. Unmindful of the gunslinger's anger, Rebecca wrapped her arms around the taller woman and hugged her tightly. "When I heard..." she inhaled sharply and shook her head against Josie's chest, unable to voice her fears.
The bounty hunter looked down at her, understanding the mixture of emotions running through Rebecca. The anger she had with her for running headlong into an unknown danger dissipated as she tentatively wrapped her arms around the young woman's shoulders, resting her chin on the top of the blonde head. "We'll talk later," she said gently. Rebecca nodded, knowing that she made a mistake and that most likely the gunslinger was angry with her about it. A soft smile came to her lips. Although angry, Josie still allowed her this comforting embrace. She gave one more squeeze before stepping back.
The women looked expectantly at Josie. If anyone knew how to hide a killing, it was the tall gunslinger. She walked over to Sandy. "Want him found?" she said seriously, her mind already working on where to deposit the body for the buzzards to pick clean.
"I think that's best. If he don't show back up, they'll be looking for him," the blonde madam replied, much to the gunslinger's dismay. It would have been much easier to make him disappear.
"And if anyone saw him here...." Josie left the thought unfinished as she looked around the room. Her eyes gazed upon the large chandelier full of dangling diamond shaped pieces of lead glass. She turned to Rebecca. "I want you to take Stacey upstairs, okay? Tell everyone to meet us in Victoria's room."
"What are you...?"
"Rebecca, go," Josie asked more than said.
"Uh...yeah," she said, understanding the unspoken message in the blue eyes. The gunslinger didn't want her to see what she was going to do. "I'll wait for you upstairs." She turned and went to get Stacey, leaving the gunslinger to her task.
Josie waited until everyone was out of sight except for Sandy, who was keeping an eye out for any signs of life on the street. Apparently no one heard the gunshot, as there were no signs of activity. The blonde could only hope that no one would be wakened by the next sound to come from the saloon. Josie walked to the corner and looked at the rope. One end was tied to a rung in the wall. The other ran up through a pulley to the top of the chandelier. She smiled. This was the part she loved; the execution of a brilliant plan. Pulling off the impossible. That's what made her such a good train robber; what kept her alive. The ability to think quickly on her feet was a skill she hoped never failed her, or Rebecca. After a quick glance upstairs, Josie focused her attention on the knot holding the rope to the anchor on the wall.
The women from Rosewood were gathered in Victoria's room, the others waiting in the hall outside the doorway due to the lack of space. Rebecca sat on the bed next to the upright Victoria, quietly explaining what she knew. Elaine and the others were comforting Stacey, who was in a complete state of shock over taking a human life. The sound of the large chandelier crashing to the floor caused all of them to jump. Bobo, who had been sleeping quietly under the dresser, tore off like shot across the room and dived under the bed. Josie came bounding up the stairs, her long legs avoiding every other step. Everyone poured out into the hallway to hear what happened. Josie waited until she saw
Rebecca come out of the room, the battered Victoria in tow. "Get the saddlebag," she said, and watched as the blonde disappeared back into the room to return with their gear. The gunslinger turned her attention to the whores, all looking at her for an explanation.
"Sandy has gone for the sheriff," the gunslinger raised her voice slightly to make sure everyone heard her. "Act confused. You have no idea why he was here or what he was doing. You don't know anything and hadn't seen him since early afternoon." Her words were met with a chorus of nods. "All you heard was a loud crash downstairs. That's all." Her tone warned them that the previous sound of a gun was not to be mentioned. Josie reached for Rebecca's arm. "We need to go...now."
Josie didn't say a word as they walked back to the boarding house and her body language made it clear that Rebecca wasn't to speak either. They took the route through the alleyways, carefully avoiding the main street and the possibility of being seen. Once inside the privacy of their room, the gunslinger sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned for Rebecca to sit next to her. In the darkness, all they could see of each other were dim silhouettes. Josie sat quietly, waiting for the inevitable questions.
"Why did you do that? Drop the chandelier on him, I mean. Won't they see the bullet hole?" she asked, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.
"With all the cuts, looking for a small hole like that would be like looking for a needle in a haystack," Josie said assuredly, although she secretly worried that someone might have heard the gunshot. It would only take one person commenting on a previous sound before the crashing glass to cause a closer look to be taken at the dead body.
"What did Sandy tell the sheriff?"
"That Hutchins insisted on lighting the chandelier and when she went to lower it, the rope slipped out of her hands. A tragic accident."
"Do you think the sheriff will believe her?" Rebecca asked.
Josie pondered the question for a brief moment.
"If Sandy put her mind to it, she could convince an assayer to buy fools gold. She's a fast thinker, that one. Nope, unless he sees something wrong, the sheriff will buy her story."
"Good," the young woman said as she let out a sigh of relief. An awkward silence fell between them.
"Rebecca...." she said, trying to break the deafening silence.
"You did a good job taking care of Victoria." Josie turned and pulled one leg up on the bed so she could face the young woman. "From what I saw, her lip will heal up just fine."
"I tried to concentrate on what Belle taught me about stitching," she said modestly, but in the darkness of the night, she was beaming ear to ear from the compliment.
"No, you did more than that. You comforted her while you tended to her. That's a special talent, Rebecca. Not everyone can do both." Josie took a deep breath and paused for a moment. The blonde swallowed, understanding that the topic was about to change and knowing what was coming. "When you heard the gunshot, your first instinct should have been to get to safety, not to run headlong into danger." As she spoke, Josie was careful not to let her fear for Rebecca's safety express itself as anger in her voice. "Next time, act; don't react," she said as she reached out and placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder.
"Josie...I didn't mean to scare you." The sudden tension in the hand on her shoulder told Rebecca that she had accurately guessed the gunslinger's feelings. She patted her hand gently. "I worry about you, you know. I care."
"You still have to be careful; not take chances," Josie said firmly, not thinking about the words until after they had left her mouth.
"Said the desert to the grain of sand," she shot back. "I worry about you because you give me reason to worry, Josie. One of these days someone is going to call you out and...." Rebecca stopped when she realized her mistake. The gunslinger's shoulders slumped and she let her hand fall to rest on the young woman's knee.
"You're still upset about yesterday." It was a statement, but also a question. Rebecca nodded.
"Hey," she said, smiling in the darkness and putting her hand on top of the gunslingers. "I'll make a deal with you. I won't take unnecessary chances if you won't."
"It's a deal," Josie said as she tried to stifle a yawn. "Now let's get some sleep." She rose and quickly stripped down to her drawers. Rebecca took longer to get down to her slip. They curled up together as they had the previous night, the gunslinger's arm wrapped protectively around the young woman's waist, their bodies so close that only one pillow was needed. A couple of minor adjustments and both settled into a comfortable position. Lying in the warm embrace, the outside world melted away for Rebecca. The vision of her friend beaten, the stress of putting the needle through skin, all the actions of the day slipped from her mind. There was no dead man, no danger, only the safety that came from the strong arms wrapped around her. Just as Rebecca crossed the line to sleep, the rich voice behind her ear whispered "Good night, sprite," as the strong arm around her belly squeezed gently.
The sandman wasn't as quick to visit the gunslinger. Her mind raced with thoughts of the possible activities going on up the street. She lay there until she heard the steady breathing that indicated her companion was asleep. Being careful not to disturb Rebecca, Josie slipped out of bed and went to the window to keep an eye on the goings on up the street.
33: Lance in the Pants
Rebecca woke to see the tall gunslinger staring out the window, mug in hand. "'Morning," she said with a yawn.
"'Morning," Josie replied, her gaze never leaving the bustle of activity at the saloon. She recognized the long, flat wagon of an undertaker sitting outside. Rebecca trudged over to the small table and picked up the tin mug.
"Josie, where's my coffee?" she asked as she looked at the empty cup. She received a sheepish grin as the gunslinger held out the mug she was holding. The young woman took the half-empty cup and frowned. She downed it in a few swallows and set it on the table. "You know, Josie, if I got up before you and drank your coffee, you'd have my head on a stick."
"Yeah, but you'll never wake up before I do," the gunslinger said confidently, turning her attention from the activities outside and looking at the young woman. Josie looked back out the window, but not before seeing the blonde stick her tongue out at her. She watched as the canvas wrapped body was placed in the back of the wagon and the sheriff exchanged words with the undertaker. The man with the badge looked at the corpse in the wagon and shook his head. The undertaker shook hands with him and both men went on their way. Sandy left the saloon and headed up the street towards the boarding house. "We've got company, Rebecca."
The young woman was dressed and ready by the time Sandy knocked on the door to their room. "How'd it go?", Josie asked as the blonde madam entered the room.
"Just like you said it would. Old man Henry is taking him to the dirt pile now," she said. The gunslinger gave a grim smile of satisfaction. With no doctor in town, it was up to the undertaker to decide if an autopsy was called for and apparently the old man wasn't interested in trying to keep the body until one could be called from another town.
"Good," Josie said as she flopped down on the bed, guns, boots and all. It had been a long night and the news that it was over finally gave her a chance to relax. She closed her eyes, hoping that today would be a lazy day and she could catch up on her sleep.
"How's Stacey?" Rebecca asked as she motioned for Sandy to sit at the table with her. The young woman had no doubt that Josie had stayed up the remaining hours until dawn. She deliberately kept her voice low, hoping that the gunslinger would get some much-needed rest. Sandy understood and kept her voice at the same low level.
"She's doing better. Elaine managed to keep her quiet and hidden when the sheriff was around. Poor thing's pretty shook up, though."
As they spoke quietly about the previous night's events, Rebecca glanced over at the bed frequently, checking on her friend. It wasn't long before Josie was in a deep and apparently peaceful sleep. "Sandy..." she whispered, and pointed at the sleeping gunslinger.
"Come on, Rebecca. I'll buy you breakfast," the madam whispered back.
As quietly as possible, they left. The sound of the door closing woke Josie, but after a second of deliberation, she decided that they'd be fine and rolled over and went back to sleep.
Sandy took Rebecca to the small restaurant. The same waitress was there, but this time she was much more pleasant and gave them a table near the pot-bellied stove. The young woman was quite happy at that, since the coffeepot was kept warming there. She quickly helped herself to a cup while waiting.
"I guess they let anyone in here," a woman said to her husband as they passed their table. Sandy gave her a withering glare. The pompous woman let go of her husband's arm and turned to face them with her hands on her hips. "I heard that Sam Hutchins died there last night. No doubt fitting punishment for visiting a whore." She turned her attention to Rebecca. "And what's this?
A new one? How old are you, child? Seventeen? Eighteen? You should be home, learning cookin 'n sewin and worrying about finding yourself a husband." She paused for a moment to study the face before her. "You're pretty enough; shouldn't have no problem finding yourself a man."
"Now you look here, you high and mighty bitch!" Sandy said rising to her feet. Rebecca rose as well, hoping to avoid a conflict in the middle of the restaurant.
"Ladies!" she said, putting her hands up to silence them. "Please." She looked at the indignant woman and her cowed husband. "Ma'am, we just want to get something to eat. You were leaving, weren't you?"
"It's bad enough you have that brothel of sin and booze. You should keep yourselves there and not come out to sully a fine respectable place like this." She looked at Rebecca and went on, "I won't stand by and watch a new one like this come in and corrupt our fine men." Her face twisted with self-righteous anger and hate as her body tensed, ready to strike.
"Sweetheart?" Everyone turned to see the brown headed young man approach.
Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized Lance. The woman relaxed her body, clearly confused. Lance stepped close and kissed the blonde on the cheek. "So you did decide to have breakfast with your aunt. I wish you would have told me, darling. I was worried."
Rebecca looked at him blankly for a moment before she caught on. "Uh...yeah." She forced a smile to her face, not that it was too hard seeing as how he just swept in and rescued her from trouble. "I should have told you." She turned to her companion and continued, "Aunt Sandy, this is Lance." Sandy quickly put a happy smile on her face and she held her arms out.
"Lance darling, so nice to finally meet you. Rebecca has told me so much about you." They embraced as though truly glad to see each other.
Thoroughly embarrassed, the woman said gruffly to her husband, "Come on, Harold," as she headed for the exit. Rebecca barely suppressed a giggle as she watched them leave. She smiled and held her hand out, pointed at an empty chair.
"Thank you so much. Please join us."
Lance smiled at his good fortune and quickly helped both women with their chairs before taking his own seat. Rebecca smiled at him and he smiled back, neither one of them speaking. Sandy watched the interaction and smiled to herself. Ah, young love. So pure and sweet in its innocence. Rebecca briefly explained to her that they had met before as she continued to smile at Lance.
The waitress brought their food and set it down gently on the table in front of them, frowning slightly when she saw the young man. "You have to eat something to stay here," she said firmly.
"Oh, dear me," Sandy said rising once again to her feet. "I have to get back. Lance, would you be a dear and escort Rebecca back to the saloon after she finishes? You're welcome to mine," she said as she pushed the plate in front of him. She opened her purse to pull out money, but the young man held his hand up.
"Please, let me. It would be my sincere pleasure." He turned back to Rebecca. "Would you like some more coffee?" He was already moving out of his chair and reaching for the potholder hanging on a hook next to the stove. Sandy looked at her, silently asking if she'd be all right. Rebecca smiled and nodded slightly. Lance leaned over and filled her cup, smiling at her the entire time and almost spilling the coffee. Sandy smiled and gracefully left them alone.
"So, Rebecca ...are you new to Cheyenne?" he asked as he buttered her bread for her.
"Thank you," she said accepting the bread from him with a smile, "We're just passing through, actually." She took a small bite of her bread and returned the coffee mug to her lips, looking over it at the handsome young man. Rebecca was acutely aware that the toes of their boots were touching. "And you?"
"We moved here about six months ago, from Tucson. We have a small cattle ranch a few miles out of town," he said, completely mesmerized by the green eyes looking at him from beneath soft lashes. "You are very beautiful," he murmured, smiling when her cheeks flushed pink and she looked down at her plate.
He reached out and took her hand in his own. "I mean it, Rebecca. You truly are a work of art, worthy of being in one of those museums in New York City."
"Stop," she said, embarrassed. "You don't know me, Lance." She gently pulled her hand back to her lap, noting that it was the first time a man had touched her so gently.
"I'd like the opportunity to get to know you better, Rebecca," he said sincerely. "And I hope the feeling is mutual."
Rebecca's heart picked up its pace slightly. This well mannered, handsome, charming gentleman was trying to court her. She put her hands on the table and found them instantly encased within his warm and gentle ones.
The sun was high in the sky when Josie woke. She looked around for a moment before remembering that Rebecca had gone to eat with Sandy. She got out of bed and stretched before reaching down and scratching the area under her breasts while yawning, looking every bit like a bear coming out of hibernation. She looked out the window. Horses, wagons, and people all filled the street as they went about their business. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the familiar blonde head walking arm-in-arm with a man. She looked closer and realized that it was the boy from the theater. Her jaw clenched unconsciously when she saw him put his arm around Rebecca's waist. It took less than four strides of her long legs to reach the door.
Sandy stared at the clock nervously. Josie would kill her if she knew she had let Rebecca out of her sight, the madam was sure of it. Her quiet friend didn't speak of why she was traveling with the young woman, but Sandy knew from watching the gunslinger that Rebecca was special to her. They hadn't gone 'round the mountain yet, Sandy was certain of that, especially after talking with Elaine. She knew the blonde was no relation of the half-Cherokee, but she couldn't think of any other reason for them to be traveling together. If not for love or money, then why? And what of Rebecca's reason for being with Josie? Sandy found it most interesting that the gunslinger made no mention of any recent robberies and in fact the madam realized that she hadn't heard anything about the raven headed woman since the news article quite a while back about the robbery in the mid-west, which reported the death of the outlaw. Perhaps the young blonde had something to do with that. Certainly Josie seemed more at ease around people since the last time she'd seen her, and the way she had held Rebecca after the shooting was most surprising to the madam. She had no idea Josie could be so gentle and caring.
The madam breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Rebecca and Lance enter the saloon, only to see Josie come in just seconds behind them. She took a quick note of their position and headed straight for Sandy. "I thought you were going to keep an eye on her," she said in a disapproving tone, then stepped back a bit when she realized just how much like a mother hen she sounded. The madam decided that a change in subject was the best course of action. "Josie, how about you and me go in the back room and play some pool?" she suggested. She moved closer and lowered her voice. "I'll even throw in a jug of cactus juice I've got hidden back there." She followed the gunslinger's line of sight back to the couple sitting opposite each other at a small table in the back.
"Come on, Josie, let those kids have some fun. It looks like he's quite taken with her."
"Yeah...well, he'd better not get too taken with her. He won't be a happy person if he does." Her tone was serious enough to make the madam gulp nervously. She'd seen Josie in action and knew just how swiftly she could cut a man down. Sandy looked at the couple again. They were just quietly talking, each with a sarsaparilla in front of them. She hoped for Lance's sake that he was as much of a gentleman as he seemed.
Josie realized that she was feeling more anger toward the young man than she should have. He had done nothing out of the ordinary and Rebecca seemed happy enough. 'Get a grip Josie,' she chided herself. 'If she wants to spend time with him, well that's just fine with me. We don't have to spend all of our time together.' With that in mind, the gunslinger turned and headed to the back room, followed closely by Sandy.
Rebecca turned her head slightly to watch them go into the back room.
Lance's back was to the door and thus he didn't see the glare given him by the gunslinger. She wondered briefly why Josie didn't come over to talk to her, but was drawn back to Lance by a polite cough. "Oh, I'm sorry. What?"
"I asked if you would do me the honor of accompanying me tonight? My father is having a barbecue to celebrate his forty-fifth birthday. Nothing fancy, just a bunch of the ranch hands and some friends of the family," he said quickly, his nervousness showing through. He flashed her a hopeful smile.
"You can even bring your mother along if you want to," he said, receiving a guffaw from Rebecca.
"Lance, she isn't my mother. She's just a friend."
"Oh," he said, embarrassed.
"It's all right," she said, still grinning. "We get a lot of funny looks." She decided not to tell him that most of the looks were of fear of the tall, intimidating gunslinger.
"Well, if you want, you can bring her along, I guess. I'm sure my mother will keep her company," he offered, willing to do anything to get the beautiful blonde to accept his offer.
"No. I don't think your mother and Josie would have much in common to talk about," she smirked as she thought about the possible conversations between the two women. Lance's mother trying to talk about the recent harvest and the gunslinger talking about why Colt Peacemakers are the best shooting irons around. She gave a small giggle at the thought. Lance smiled, although he didn't get the joke.
"So will you? Go with me, I mean?"
"Um..." she flashed him a shy smile. "...yes, I'd like that," she said. He relaxed visibly and let out a deep breath as he ran his hand through his hair.
"That's great! Um...I'll pick you up at six...uh, I don't know where you live," he said apologetically.
"I'm staying at the boarding house."
"Fine. I'll pick you up there at six."
"That'd be nice," she replied, wondering why her heart was racing again.
Then she realized that this was the first time she was going on an actual date.
"Well, I'd better get back to the ranch before pop has a fit," he said as he stood up, taking her hand into his and kissing it. "I'll see you tonight, fair lady."
"Oh..." She rose to her feet and nervously pulled her hand back. "Tonight then," she said as she watched him leave. When he was no longer in sight she turned to go find Josie and instead she saw Victoria leaning against the upstairs rail. With a wave and a smile she went to go visit with her for a little while.