She still couldn't believe how she was letting this man manipulate her so easily. Only a few hours earlier she wouldn't have believed it could happen. She had been her own person. Untouched. But now she was his and would welcome any of his touches and caresses. She stretched out beside him, glad when he threw his arm across her waist. She went to sleep feeling the gentleness of his breathing upon her face.
* * *
Chapter Two
The heat of the sun awakened Eugenia. The sound of the water rushing downward from the mountain side, settling in effervescent bubbles beside her, made her keenly aware of where she had slept all night. Then she sat upright with a start, remembering Drew. Her eyes darted to the spot where he had lain beside her through the night. But her heart faltered. All that was left of him was the few wrinkles the heaviness of his body had made in the blanket.
Pushing herself up from the ground, her eyes searched in desperation around her, too soon discovering that even his horse was gone.
"He's done gone and left me," she moaned aloud, covering her mouth with her hands, hardly able to believe that the man she had grown to know so intimately could be capable of such deceit. He had seduced her, fulfilled his manly needs, and had left her to her likely demise. How could she have been so foolish to let herself be used like an animal? Couldn't she have guessed this would happen? Drew Jamieson wasn't a man, he was an animal, with animal's needs. She flung her head back, shouting, "I hate you, Drew Jamieson. I hate you."
A noise behind a thick blue spruce drew her attention, making her breath begin to come in short intervals. Then she smiled. She now knew that she had been too hasty in her judgment of Drew. She knew that he had probably only been watering his horse, or maybe catching their breakfast.
Smiling widely, she lifted the fullness of her skirt up into her arms and rushed toward the tree, to stop suddenly when she saw a familiar tail swaying back and forth lazily from behind it. She inched her way onward then felt her heart begin to ache when she saw that it was only her mule. She hadn't been wrong about Drew. He had left. And thank goodness that her mule had somehow managed to find its way to her, now that she needed it again so badly.
Trying to suppress a rush of tears, still harboring thoughts of Drew inside her mind, she went to her mule. "Mule, you're a lifesaver this mornin'," she said, then stopped when she saw that it had been tied securely to the tree. She studied the knot of the rope, feeling a rush of hope flow through her veins once again, knowing that only Drew could have done this. Her eyes darted around her, hoping to see him standing beside the burned-out fire, or the creek, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. He was most definitely gone. But he had thought enough of her to make sure she wasn't stranded any longer. He had gone in search of her mule for her, and had found and brought it to her.
She patted the mule, then decided it was time to continue with her journey. She knew that Cripple Creek couldn't be too far away. Something deep inside told her that Drew would have only left her if he had known that she could make the rest of the journey safely by herself.
She headed for the water, needing to refresh herself before making her entry into town, a town that she hoped would welcome her presence, a town that would provide her with the things she had dreamed of for so long.
Bending her head down over the clearness of the water, Eugenia gasped when she saw her reflection staring back at her. She ran her hands over her face, noticing its redness. She swallowed hard, wondering if this redness was from the sun of the day before, or from the scratchiness of Drew's beard as he had kissed and fondled her. But no matter. All she knew was that it made her appear even less feminine.
She reached her hands down, cupped them, filling them with the cool water from the creek, then splashed it onto her face, over and over again. But another look proved to her that it was useless. She would have to hope that it would fade away quickly, maybe even in a day or so, so she could definitely be able to enter the realm of being—and looking—like a lady.
With deft fingers, she braided her hair and pinned it back on top of her head, remembering with an ache in her loins how Drew had asked her to let her hair down, and what they had participated in only moments after that. How she had loved him afterward, and even now, more than she could hate him for having left her alone.
"Just didn't want a woman sharin' his saddle with him as he rode into town," she said aloud, assuring herself that he had done it for a good reason. She arose, carrying her traveling bag and placed it around her mule's neck. "He'll look me up once I get into town," she said, climbing onto her mule's back. "I know he will," she added softly, trying to reassure herself.
Hunger pangs began to eat away at the inside of her stomach, but only a few crumbs of bread had been left of the meal of the night before, shared by fireside with the man she knew she would always love.
She dug her knees into her mule's side, confident that she could depend on it to carry her to safety now. And when it began to move forward, she took a fast glance backward at the crushed grass where Drew had taken her into realms of ecstasy, hoping that one day soon he would do so again.
Lifting her skirt to above her knees, she let the creek water splash onto her bare legs as the mule made his way across to the other side.
The sun seemed even more penetrating this day. Even the thick braids circled around her crown didn't seem to keep the heat from scorching her scalp. She wiped the beads of perspiration from her brow, then tensed when a sudden whistling noise in the distance drew her attention. And then she heard it again. She let her eyes travel to where she had heard it, discovering a train winding around the side of another distant mountain, leaving a stream of black smoke billowing up into the sky behind it. Her heart began to pound, realizing she had to be almost to her destination. She thrust her knees more deeply into her mule's side, anxiety mounting. "Come on, boy," she said. "We've just 'bout done it. Just a little more ways. Then you can sleep all you want."
A dense forest of ponderosa pines slowed her approach, but the shade of its shadows was welcomed, plus the coolness of the breeze blowing throughout. The mule seemed to inch its way along, and the sticky pine limbs pushed at Eugenia's face, legs, and arms. But one glance through the last row of trees and Eugenia's heart palpitated wildly. Below her, in what appeared to be a saucer-shaped community, settled down into a deep valley, was the town that she had dreamed of so often. She knew that it had to be Cripple Creek.
"Come on, mule," she sighed. "Just look at it. Ain't it just too grand? Come on, boy. Won't be long now," she added, pressing her knees into its sides once again.
The decline from the lower slope of Mount Pisgah was a rocky one. The mule's hoofs clumsily made their way over the rocks, tossing Eugenia back and forth roughly, making her realize just how sore her muscles were. She groaned inwardly with each fresh jerk, but knew that she could soon leave her mule and walk down the streets, mingling with all the other respectable people of the town.
Finally, the edge of the town was reached. The mule carried Eugenia through a shallow, meandering creek, then through some more rock-covered ground until she pulled her mule to a halt.
Eugenia's eyes studied the area around her. There were two levels of streets for her to choose from. An upper and lower. She chose to take the lower because that was the street that she was already facing. She thrust her knees into her mule's sides and sat, looking from side to side, as she began to be carried down a street lined on both sides with houses.
Disappointment surged through Eugenia. She expected to see beautiful mansions, instead, what she saw were small houses and shacks and sheds made of colorless, rough boards. Some even had makeshift tin roofs. And the stink surfacing from the privies that stood behind them made Eugenia's nose curl and her eyes almost begin to water.
A few more feet down the road, she began to feel more encouraged, eyeing the row of dwellings that appeared to be in a much better condition. But they were so small. She couldn't see how any family could live in any of them. An
d strangely, there were girl's names painted above each door of these houses. She slowly read the name "Doll" above one of these doors, and watched in wide-eyed wonder as a woman opened the door and stepped out onto the board sidewalk, with hands on her hips, looking in Eugenia's direction. Then to Eugenia's surprise, this woman suddenly threw her head back and began to laugh and point at Eugenia.
Feeling embarrassment creeping through her, Eugenia realized that she was still on her mule and knew that she did have to make quite a sight for people to stare at. With aching joints, she scooted from atop the mule, and continued to make her way forward, letting the mule trail behind her. She took a backward glance at the woman who she was leaving behind. Eugenia had never seen anyone painted up as much as this person. The woman's lips were bright red, matching the coloring of her cheeks, and even the hair that was stacked high on her head. And she was so scantily attired, with the front of her dress so low that even the nipples of her large breasts were nearly visible.
Eugenia turned her head quickly away and continued to move onward, studying the names on the doors of the several other small houses. They read, "Dot,"
"Lil,"
"Rosy," and on and on. She watched in silent wonder as a man came bustling from one of these houses, and when the door was shut behind him, she read the name of Eva. Then her eyes traveled to the open window of this house as a woman appeared. This woman's painted face was framed by the window, making her look almost unreal to Eugenia. But when this woman began to yell at Eugenia she knew that she was indeed real enough.
"Hey there, ugly," the woman yelled in shrill tones. "Watcha doin' on our street? You'd best get back to where you come from. No man would pay a sprinkle of gold dust to screw you."
Loud hysterical laughter followed Eugenia, making her glad to leave this part of town behind.
Watching the activity of people moving around her, Eugenia grew more aware of the mule trailing behind her. She spied a hitching post in front of a building that had a saloon sign hanging over the door, and took the mule and tied him securely to it. Then she stood watching. It appeared to her that Cripple Creek was a city of mustaches and hats. Not one man she saw passing by her was clean shaven, or even bearded, as she remembered Drew having been. The hat that each man wore was identical to Drew's, with a rounded top and a medium-sized brim encircling it.
As she continued to stand there, she could feel eyes on her. She turned and looked at her full reflection in the plate-glass window of the building behind her, and realized that she wasn't a pleasant sight to see. Her hair had become half-unbraided and her face shone back at her in red. Her eyes traveled downward. Her traveling dress was covered with dust and wrinkled, so that even the gathers had gathers. She shook the skirt of the dress, trying to make it more presentable, but sighed resolutely. It was no use. She would have to remain in this undesirable way until she found a place to stay for the night.
The clattering of hoofs drew Eugenia's attention from herself. It seemed the morning's activity of Cripple Creek was thickening. The squeaking of wooden wheels made Eugenia stop and stare openly at a coach drawn by two horses. When it stopped across the street from her, she watched as several richly dressed women stepped from it. Again she noticed their faces. They were painted in bright reds, not making them at all more attractive. But their dresses appeared to be of pure silk, and all of them dipped gracefully in at the waist, accentuating their bosoms. Eugenia watched as they walked away from the coach. They entered a building with "Dance Hall" painted on a large, front window. She shrugged and let her eyes wander around her.
On each side of the street there were all kinds of establishments. Hotels, dance halls, saloons, gambling halls, and other unlabeled buildings that stood with their false-fronted pine exteriors looming up into the air. It was as though she had stepped into a book, everything was typically western, making her want to explore some more.
She stepped out into the street, carrying her traveling bag, feeling out of place, since the main inhabitants of this particular street were male. Just missing a large pile of horse droppings, Eugenia stepped high, and hurried across the paved road. She looked downward onto the road and remembered thinking for so long that these roads would be paved in gold. She laughed. The roads were only of a gray, matted substance, with no alluring color glistening back at her at all. Her thoughts were shadowed by the laughter that had burst from Drew when she had asked about these streets of gold. She had to wonder, had he also walked down these same streets as she when he first entered the town? And where was he now?
Suddenly, all around her, the town seemed to come completely to life. Men were in throngs, coming in and out of the saloons, and loud music filled the air. Eugenia stepped up onto the rough board walks and hurried on her way, glad to see that the designs of the houses were improving, appearing to be more what she had dreamed of. One in particular caught her eye. It was a two-storied, painted white brick establishment, with delicate lacy curtains hanging at each of its cantilevered windows. On the outside hung a sign. She read "The Old Homestead Parlour." Then again… more slowly… "The… Old… Homestead…" She was reminded of her Papa and Mama's homestead.
Hunger pangs began to stir at the depths of her stomach, and she wondered if this parlor could possibly be a place where she could find her first meal in Cripple Creek. It looked and sounded friendly enough, and she certainly didn't want to go into any saloon to ask for food. She had read about these saloons, and knew that only undesirable women frequented them.
With her skirts lifted, she climbed the steps to the front door of The Old Homestead Parlour. It was so quiet, she had to wonder if anyone was even living there. She hesitated for only a moment, then knocked. When the door swung open, she gaped openly at the woman standing before her, who was tying the belt on a terrycloth wrap that was hanging loosely from her, exposing long, sagging breasts in the vee of the neckline. This woman's jet black hair cascaded in long waves across her shoulders, making her appear to be trying to be more youthful in appearance than in truth she was. And Eugenia knew that no amount of face powder or rouge could hide the deep lines around this woman's mouth and eyes. Eugenia felt a blush rising when she knew that she was also being studied with careful eyes.
"Yes? What can I do for you?" the woman asked, her eyes still assessing Eugenia, as though Eugenia was up for sale.
Eugenia swallowed hard. "I just arrived in town," she said quietly. "I was a wonderin' if you might have some spare food to share with me."
"Where did you travel from?" the woman asked, her eyes lighting up, pulling Eugenia on into the house.
"From 'round the mountain," Eugenia said, sighing with pleasure as she looked at the interior of the house. She had never seen such grand furniture or curtains. One fast sweep of the eyes found groups of different colored velveteen-covered chairs and sofas, and matching velveteen drapes at the windows. And the tables beside these weren't made by hand like her Papa's. They were of dark red mahogany, and polished until they shone like glass. Her hands covered her mouth when her eyes jerked upward, settling on a crystal chandelier above her head. It sparkled in purples and golds as the light reflected through it. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life.
The woman began to walk around Eugenia, her eyes continuing to study her. "You traveled from around the mountain?" she asked, touching Eugenia here and there. "How did you manage to do that? Did you come with your parents?"
Eugenia flinched as this woman's fingers settled on her bosom. And she quickly stepped back when her fingers ventured to squeeze one of her breasts.
"Firm enough," the woman said, then backed away from Eugenia, frowning. "I asked you. Did you make this trip with family?"
"No, ma'am," Eugenia mumbled. "I came by myself." She was glad to see a faint smile surface on the woman's face. It made her less frightened of this strange-acting lady. And maybe now the woman would give her a bite to eat. Eugenia's knees were growing weak from the hunger. And she was even beginning to fee
l a bit lightheaded. She caught herself as she began to sway.
"What's your name, honey?" the woman asked, going to a table. She picked up a cigarette, placed it between her lips, and lit it.
"My name be Eugenia Marie Scott," Eugenia said, watching wide-eyed as the woman blew a large puff of smoke from her mouth. Eugenia had never seen a woman smoke before. And it made this woman look manly somehow.
"Eugenia," the woman drawled. "That's pretty enough."
"What might your name be?" Eugenia blurted.
"Madam Valerie," the woman said, smiling back at Eugenia. "Did you say you are in need of food, Eugenia?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am," Eugenia gulped.
"I think I can help you out there," Madam Valerie said, walking away from her. "Come. Follow me," she added.
Eugenia's eyes grew wider the farther she made her way into this house. The walls were papered in bright red rose designs, and the steps leading up to the second floor were covered with plush red carpeting. Everywhere she looked she saw red. It was all too breathtaking. She followed Madam Valerie on up the stairs, wondering where the steps would lead her. When they reached the top, Eugenia watched as Madam Valerie opened a door.
"This room is vacant for now," Madam Valerie said. "It's yours to freshen up in if you like. Then I'll have a tray of food sent up."
Eugenia entered the room, her eyes gazing at the further wonder around her. It was the most eyecatching bedroom that she had ever seen. In the room stood a huge bed with a brass headboard, a bureau, and table of rosewood beside the bed. And a thick, piled red carpet, somewhat worn, stretched out beneath her feet.
"At the end of the hall, you'll find a bath. Please feel free to take a bath. I'm sure you'll look much more presentable after getting the dust off your face and body."
"This is all too kind of you, ma'am," Eugenia sighed. She went to the bed and pressed down on it, feeling the softness of it, remembering her own makeshift bed back at her Papa and Mama's house.
Eugenia's Embrace Page 3
