She didn’t need to ask what had happened. It was obvious. Jenny’s client had been rough with her.
Catalina’s shock turned rapidly to fury. “Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“He cannot do this to you,” Catalina growled in frustration, wishing she could wring the bastard’s neck.
“He called me bad names,” she whimpered, as if that were worse than the beating he’d given her.
Catalina was filled with such rage, she was trembling. But if he was gone, she couldn’t do anything to the man who had hurt Jenny now. She had to do what she could to help the poor girl.
“Come.” She took Jenny gingerly by the elbow and patted the bed. “Sit here.”
Jenny hesitated, furrowing her brow at the mess of feathers. “What happened?”
“Nothing. An accident.”
Jenny perched carefully on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry about the dress. You worked so—”
“It is not important. You are what is important, Jenny.” She bit back her anger. “It is not all right, what he did.”
Jenny lowered her head. “It’s on account of I don’t know what I’m doin’,” she said, sniffling. “I never done this kind o’ thing before.”
“That makes no difference,” Catalina said with fierce conviction. She too was inexperienced, but that didn’t excuse a man being rough with a woman. Drew had not been rough with her. “What he did is wrong. If Miss Hattie knew—”
“I don’t want Miss Hattie to see me like this.”
“She should see you,” Catalina insisted. “It is not right for a client to beat you.”
Jenny clutched at Catalina’s hand in desperation. “Please don’t tell her. I need this job. I don’t want her to find out I don’t know how to do it. Please, Catalina, promise me you won’t say anything.”
Catalina gulped. There was a terrible logic to Jenny’s words. And yet the situation was so wrong. She placed a calming hand atop Jenny’s and nodded. “You must let me help you.” She wasn’t sure how she could help, but she couldn’t let more harm come to the girl.
“Can you…can you fix this?” She held up the ragged edges of her dress.
“Of course.” Catalina could mend the garment. She only wished she could repair Jenny’s damaged body and self-worth as easily.
Jenny popped up and began removing the dress. Catalina didn’t realize the girl meant for her to start work at once, but she was willing to do what she could to keep Jenny close…and away from whoever had done this to her.
“He is not coming back, is he?” Catalina ventured.
Jenny gulped. “I…don’t know.”
Catalina fetched her sewing kit. While the two of them sat silently on the bed in their drawers and camisoles, she worked on the torn fabric.
As she stitched, she began thinking about Jenny’s situation. Jenny was a timid, earnest, hard-working girl. She should be able to find a way to earn money without working as a soiled dove. She should not be subject to such wretched mistreatment, nor should she be made to feel so insignificant.
Her mind drifted back to the last night. It was horrifying to think that at the very moment Catalina had been enjoying divine pleasure at Drew’s hands, Jenny may have been suffering under the bruising blows of her ruthless client.
It wasn’t right. Jenny deserved better. Catalina had to get her out of this hopeless predicament…before the brute returned, before Miss Hattie saw her, before anyone suspected a thing.
As she tied off the knot and snipped the ends of thread, Catalina came to a decision. She knew she was going to sound prepotente, as bossy as her father, but it was for Jenny’s own good.
While Jenny slipped her dress back on, Catalina went to her trunk and pulled out the little velvet bag of coins, emptying them into her palm. There was forty dollars there—twenty dollars from Drew for the past two nights and twenty more she’d saved up from housekeeping.
It meant she’d have to do without her sewing machine that much longer. But giving Jenny this money could save the girl’s life.
“I want you to take this,” she said, pressing the coins into Jenny’s palm.
“What? I can’t—”
“Take it,” she insisted, closing the girl’s fingers over the coins. “It is not much, but it will take you as far as Sacramento. And there, you can make yourself a new life.”
Jenny’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “It’s too much. I could never pay you back and—”
“You do not need to pay me back. But if I give you this money, you must make me a promise.”
Jenny’s chin trembled as she nodded.
“Promise me you will not look for work in a place like this. Even if you have to scrub shirts or wash dishes, find a good job where you are treated with respect.”
“But I have no skills,” she argued. “I’m…worthless.”
“No,” Catalina snapped. “You are not worthless. The man who did this to you—he is worthless. You deserve better than this. And now you will go find it. Go someplace where he will never find you. Promise me.”
Jenny’s eyes brimmed again, and she nodded.
But at the abrupt knock on the door, the girl jumped up with a wheeze of panic.
Catalina frowned and clenched her fists. If that was Jenny’s client looking for her, he’d be sorry he came knocking at Catalina’s door.
She stormed to the door and flung it open, primed for a fight.
It was Drew. He looked startled.
“Oh.” In the space of an instant, she went from agitation to surprise to relief. And then her heart melted. Drew hadn’t left her after all.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
She ushered him in, noting briefly that he’d changed into dark blue trousers with a blue brocade vest. She closed the door behind him.
The instant he laid eyes on Jenny’s battered face, his brows came together in a scowl. “Ling-miwhxiy!” he cursed. “Who did this?”
Catalina tried to hush him. She didn’t want to wake the whole Parlor. But he ignored her. And she had to admit there was something attractive about his righteous indignation. She liked the way he thrust out his chest and towered over them like a menacing storm cloud.
“Where is he?” he demanded. “Where is he?”
“Gone,” Catalina told him.
He spit out a curse in English that made her blink.
“And I am going to get Jenny away from here,” she told him with pride.
“How?”
She didn’t want to tell him. She was afraid he’d be disappointed, that he would think she was wasting her sewing machine money on a girl she hardly knew.
But Jenny told him. “Miss Catalina’s given me her savin’s,” she gushed, “so I can get out o’ town and find a better life.”
It was hard to tell what Drew’s scowl meant. “Is that true?”
It was pointless to deny it. So Catalina raised her chin and defended her actions. “It is only money. I will make more.”
Chapter 20
Drew knew in that instant that he’d made the right decision last night. Catalina was going to make a perfect wife. Not only was she lovely on the outside, but she was beautiful inside as well. The fact that she would sacrifice all she’d saved to come to the rescue of a mistreated waif spoke heaps about her nature.
A lump lodged in his throat as he gazed at his beloved bride-to-be. She possessed a will of iron and a heart of gold. He couldn’t ask for a worthier prize.
Now all he had to do was make sure he was deserving of such a prize.
“Was it the man with the broken nose?” he asked Jenny. He remembered the villain from the poker game. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Jenny gulped and nodded.
“Do you know where he went?”
She shook her head.
Cat assured him, “It is not your fight, Drew.” Then she added a small, pointed poke at him. “Especially since you are going to be moving on.”
“Any time a man mistreats
a woman, it’s my fight,” he told her. “And about my movin’ on, I’ve been thinkin’ about that.”
“Have you?” Her face she kept carefully neutral, but he could see she was holding her breath.
He wouldn’t say any more about it than that, at least not until he scraped together enough money to buy her a proper wedding ring.
“So where are you headed?” he asked Jenny.
Jenny looked in question at Catalina. “Sacramento?”
Cat nodded.
“That’s good,” he agreed. It was far enough away to be safe. And it was easy to disappear in a big town like Sacramento, where nobody looked too closely into a person’s background. She could, as Cat said, make a new beginning. “What do you need me to do?”
Cat looked askance at the battered girl. “Can you pack your trunks right now?”
“I don’t have a trunk. I don’t have much of anything, to be honest, just this dress and a few sundries.”
“If you hurry,” Catalina said, “you can catch the morning stage to Chico and go from there.
Jenny’s eyes said she was afraid.
Catalina narrowed her gaze. “I will fashion a hat for you so no one will see your face, yes?”
The girl nodded.
Drew felt useless as Catalina made plans for Jenny’s escape. But he had to admire her resourcefulness, especially watching her transform an ordinary basket into a hat.
First, she broke off the basket handle. Then she cut a swath of cloth from the underskirt of the girl’s dress. Placing the basket at an angle atop Jenny’s head, she wrapped the sheer yellow fabric around the basket, pulling part of it down to create a veil of sorts. Then she clipped the purple rose from the front of the girl’s dress, wrapping the ends of the ribbon around the hat to hold it in place.
Satisfied with that, she helped Jenny get dressed, untying the ribbons that normally hitched it up above her knees so that the skirts fell at a respectable length. She retied the outside ribbons at the front and cut off the inside ribbons, weaving them together into an insert, which she basted into the indecently low neckline of the gown.
It was genius.
No wonder Cat wanted to be a clothing designer. She had a real gift for it. If she could do that with odds and ends of cloth, a needle and thread, and her two hands, what could she do with real material and a sewing machine? Her talent made him even more determined to help her get out of The Parlor and buy her the sewing machine she wanted.
Within a matter of minutes, Jenny had gathered her meager belongings. Catalina tried unsuccessfully to pick all the feathers from Jenny’s dress, and then kissed her on both cheeks, bidding her goodbye and good fortune. Then Drew escorted her to The Adams Hotel, where the stage was due to arrive.
Catalina dusted off her hands. At least one problem was solved today. But there was still the feathery mess of her room. And she didn’t even want to think about the carnage downstairs.
At least Drew was still in Paradise, she thought as she secured her petticoat. Finding him gone this morning, she’d feared his lusty behavior last night had been a gesture of farewell.
She ran her hands over her shoulders, remembering his velvety touch on her skin and his sultry whispers against her hair.
It was obvious that Drew coveted her. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man laying a finger on her. If only he could see how much he needed her, maybe he wouldn’t be in such a hurry to run away.
But the day was rapidly approaching. She couldn’t afford the luxury of a leisurely morning. She’d just lost all her money, after all, and was starting over again with her job as a housekeeper. So she hastily dressed, planning to clean The Parlor before she began to attack her feather-infested bedroom.
When she opened the door, she was glad to see the bottle that had struck it in the middle of the night had been swept up. But when she stepped out onto the balcony, the sight below took her breath away.
The salon was spotless.
To be sure, there were fewer chairs, and a table was missing. Portions of the carpet were torn, and in some places, the wallpaper was beyond repair.
But all the glass and splinters of wood had been swept away. The counters, tabletops, and mirror gleamed. The wooden floors were scrubbed. Even the one unbroken vase that remained had been filled with blooms. True, there were a few weeds tucked in among them. But there was no question in Catalina’s mind that this was the work of kindhearted Drew.
Moved to a watery smile by his generosity, she pressed a hand to her breast. Such generosity deserved a kind gesture in return.
She knew what he would like, what would make him most happy, what would make him glad that he had stayed in Paradise.
She would show him the kind of pleasure he had given her last night. She would confer with the other ladies to discover the best method. And then she would give him a night to remember.
Drew eyed the silver star peeking out from under the coat of the man across the table from him. Normally, he didn’t like playing poker with lawmen. Sore losers were bad enough. But when their right hand was holding bad cards and their left was the strong arm of the law, it was a dangerous combination.
Still, today it was worth the risk. He needed to win enough money, not only to buy Cat’s company tonight, but also for the wedding ring he planned to give her tomorrow.
Fortunately, though he still didn’t believe it was his fault, he’d worked off what Miss Hattie felt he owed for the damages to the salon by cleaning up the mess. To be honest, the grateful embrace and gushing thanks from Cat had been far more valuable to him than Miss Hattie’s dismissal of his debt.
Besides, Sheriff Campbell seemed like a decent sort. He was a bit tipsy for this early in the day. But he was a good enough fellow, and his tells were easy to spot. Every time he was dealt a favorable hand, he straightened visibly in his chair. And every time he bluffed, his eye twitched.
The other two players were only slightly more challenging.
Ed sniffed when he was holding winning cards. And Greg stroked his bushy beard when he had a good hand.
Halfway through the day, the good sheriff was soused enough to start waxing poetic about his lady love. According to Campbell, the sun rose and set on his Maggie Ellen, and he intended to marry her one day soon, as soon as he had the funds to buy a nice place with a proper yard and a pretty little chicken coop.
Drew feared that might take a while at the rate the sheriff was losing money. But though Drew was careful not to let the pot get too high, there was no hiding the fact that he was slowly robbing the sheriff of his bank.
In order to keep Ed and Greg in the game, Drew made it worth their while, losing just often enough to make them happy.
Meanwhile, every time Miss Hattie came by with refills of whiskey for the sheriff, she gave Drew a pointed look of warning. He returned her look with a subtle nod, letting her know he was well aware he was going up against a man with the power to string him up if he didn’t like the look of his cards.
Dollar by patient dollar, Drew managed to move the pile of coins to his side of the table. By mid-afternoon, he had almost enough to pay for Catalina. But by late afternoon, he could tell that Ed and Greg were growing bored of the game.
If he was lucky, he could get to the jeweler’s shop before it closed. First, however, he’d have to place one last big wager…and win.
An opportunity arose three hands later. After the draw, Ed sniffed, Greg stroked his beard, and the sheriff sat up straight. By the signs, all three of them thought they had winning cards. But when Drew glimpsed the four handsome jacks sitting shoulder to shoulder in his hand, he knew this was his chance.
He tossed out a modest bet of a half-dollar.
Overconfident, the other two met his bet, and Greg raised it by another half-dollar. Twice more the wager circled, until the pot was over fifteen dollars and Ed needed to add three dollars to call.
Ed couldn’t spare it, so he folded.
Sheriff Campbell tossed back a shot
of whiskey, exhaled, and then pushed his last eight dollars into the middle of the table.
“All in,” he said with a grin of self-assurance, “for Maggie Ellen.”
Greg cussed and folded.
Drew stared at the pile—twenty-three dollars—then glanced up at the sheriff. Of course, there was always a slim chance that Campbell was holding four aces or a straight flush. Hell, he might have a royal flush.
Still, he was fairly certain the sheriff’s confidence came not from his hand, but from the whiskey—that and his desire to buy a dream house for his Maggie Ellen.
If Drew was wrong, if he lost, he wouldn’t have enough to buy Cat or the ring. If he won, he’d have enough for Cat, the ring, and a decent supper to boot.
With a calm expression that revealed none of the turmoil he was feeling, he met the bet.
The sheriff gleefully laid out his cards. “Who’s the gamblin’ fool now, Maggie Ellen?” he crowed.
It was a full house—three queens and two tens.
The sheriff rubbed his hands together, ready to gather up his winnings.
If Drew hadn’t needed that cash so badly, he would have made the wise choice of laying his cards face down and letting the man with the silver star take home the pot. He didn’t need a sheriff mad at him.
But he couldn’t go another day without Cat. Just leaving her this morning—with her eyes full of passion, her hair full of feathers, and her camisole full of temptation—had been painful. Half his brain was riled up with delicious thoughts of what he’d like to do to her, and the other half was tormented by the fear that someone else might get there before him.
So instead of taking the easy way out, Drew fanned his cards on the table.
Ed gave a surprised whoop.
Greg shook his head.
Sheriff Campbell sat stunned.
Drew knew how to win gracefully. He didn’t immediately collect his winnings. Instead, he gave a low whistle. “Damn, Sheriff, you almost had me. Well played.”
“That can’t be,” the sheriff said, crestfallen.
Native Hawk (California Legends Book 3) Page 14
