“She’s a quick one,” Dillon chuckled. “I think she might have been practicing since you showed us the game. Had it down better than me, though I haven’t dealt in a while.”
“She has a goal and is set on it,” Doc replied with a grin.
“Speaking of,” Dillon smirked, “we had someone looking for you. I forgot about it until they came back a bit ago. In fact, you just missed her by a few minutes.”
“Otto’s daughter,” Doc nodded. “Yes, I heard from him.”
Dillon whistled softly, “And you still let him near you with a razor?”
“It was amiable enough until she stormed out. Luckily, I was done being shaved by then.”
“How did she not see you, then?”
“He threw a towel over me before she made it into the shop.”
“Lucky bastard,” Dillon whistled. “Banned now?”
“Not exactly,” Doc sighed, looking over at Fiala. “I have to go over after breakfast tomorrow and try to talk her out of her obsession.”
Dillon shook his head. “Good luck, but I’m not sure she’s going to be that easy to shake. Her eyes light up when she talks about you.” Lowering his voice, he leaned in, “Tell me the truth: what did you do to get her that excited?”
Doc didn’t reply, instead starting to walk for the stairs. He was almost to the base when he realized he didn’t have pen and ink. Sighing, he kept going, planning instead to drop his paperwork off and head back out.
“Afternoon, sir.”
“Afternoon, Posy,” Doc said, pausing on the second-floor landing. “Posy, do you know if there is ink and a pen I can rent or buy from here?”
“I can ask, sir.”
“I’ll be in my room. Please let me know.”
“Yes, sir,” Posy said, hurrying toward the stairs.
“Finish what you were doing first,” Doc told her and chuckled. “I can wait a bit, okay?”
“Okay,” Posy said. She blushed and turned back toward the open door in the hall.
Shaking his head, Doc chuckled as he went up to his room. So excitable, he thought. I wonder if my own kids will be like that. That thought brought him to an abrupt stop, his hand just short of his room’s door handle. He shook his head clear and opened the door. Leaving it open, he took a seat at the table and began reading through the forms.
“Sir, I have a pen and some ink for you,” Posy said from the hall.
Doc blinked and rubbed at his eyes before turning to face her. “Oh, thanks. How much are they?”
“Madam said to just return them to the bar when you finish.”
“I will. Thank her for me, please.”
“Yes, sir,” Posy said, but didn’t leave after she set them on the table. “Umm, sir... are you really going to take Fiala away?”
Doc met her eyes, “I don’t know, Posy. I’ve told her she can come with me, but we’ll have to see how we both feel about that when the time comes. I’m not going to be leaving soon. I still have a lot to do here.”
“Oh… so you’re going to stay, then?” The sentence was rushed, and Doc could feel the hope she had.
“Months, at least,” Doc smiled. “Don’t want me leaving soon, huh?”
“You’re one of the good people, sir,” Posy said shyly. “Fiala, Lotus, and Cassia all say so. Momma doesn’t want you to go, either. The extra money you’ve given us has helped her, too.”
“I gave you that money,” Doc said.
“I gave it to Momma,” Posy said defensively. “She needs it for her medicine.”
“Medicine?” Doc asked, forgetting about the paperwork. “Is she sick?” he asked with concern.
“Not sick... she’s just in pain all the time,” Posy whispered, looking sad. “It’s my fault, but Momma says it isn’t. I heard Poppa before he left, though... he blamed me.” Sniffling, her eyes began to water. “I came out wrong. I broke her.”
Doc’s jaw set and he felt an intense dislike for a man he had never met. “I see,” he spoke softly, not wanting to scare her. “Would your momma be willing to speak with me, Posy? I want to tell her what a good helper you’ve been.”
Posy looked up, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “Me?”
“Yes. You’ve been amazing, always helping me out. I want to tell her that so she knows it’s coming from me.”
Posy looked to the door before turning back to him. “Maybe she can bring your breakfast tomorrow?”
“That would be fine,” Doc smiled. “Thank you. You should hurry back to work. I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”
“Yeah,” Posy stepped back, dipping him a curtsy and leaving quickly.
Doc watched her go and took a deep breath. What the fuck did I just start?
Chapter Twenty-nine
Doc finished as much of the paperwork as he could. He needed to have the gold he had found assayed and the assayer to fill in those parts of the forms. Setting things aside, he took a deep breath, just in time for a voice to get his attention.
“Doc? Are you busy?”
Doc gave Fiala a broad smile and shook his head, “Nope. I just finished up what I could do.”
“We have a little bit of time before the shops close. Did you want to visit the seamstress with me?”
Doc got to his feet, “I’m up for that. Are you sure you want me along?”
“Yes.”
“Want to do things together, is that it?”
Fiala looked away from him, blushing, “Yes.”
“Very well. I need to stop by somewhere and see about a different hat.”
“The milliner should have some hats you’d like.”
“First, the seamstress,” Doc said as he stopped by his trunk and picked up some extra money. “Ready?”
“Yes, I got what I needed before coming to see if you wanted to go with me.”
“How did the dealing go?” Doc asked as he shut his door.
“Good. Lia offered me a spot to deal during the tournament and during the mornings. It’s their slowest time, and the other dealers are happy with the idea of not having to work the early shift.”
“Good. I was worried about your livelihood.”
“I have a job for as long as we stay here.”
“About that,” Doc said softly. They had made it to the main room, which was starting to fill up. “We really do need to spend some time together first. We haven’t really gotten to know each other. I’d hate to think that this might fizzle out because we didn’t know anything about each other.”
Fiala stayed silent while they walked through the room. When they were out on the street, she spoke softly, as if afraid of sharing, “My family name is Fulton. My father was a miner back in Luisanna territory. My mother was a handmaid to a well-known lady in town. She was out running errands for the family and ran afoul of some backcountry skinners. Dad stepped in when he heard her cry for help. He suffered a number of deep cuts, but ended up killing the skinners in the process. He would have faced the gallows if not for Lady Fullerton stepping in on his behalf, since he saved her servant. They paid for him to be healed, too. Mom was smitten with him for saving her life and asked the family to release her from her position. The Fullertons paid for the small wedding and the Lady herself gave my mother away.”
“That is quite the family. I’d think most of that position and power wouldn’t do as much.”
“No, they were unusual for the area. All of their staff loved them. Dad and Mom left, as he had to find more work. They came west, settling into Deadshaft. I’m their only child… Dad was killed in an accident at the mine five years after I was born. The foreman blamed him for the accident and the judge sided with them, so we got nothing for his death. Mom had to find work at that point, but there was no family there that would take her on as a maid. She started doing odd jobs for money, and eventually ended up doing laundry for a whorehouse.”
“You’ve been around the business for a long time.”
“Yes. When I started to mature, the Madam of th
e house tried to corral me into her employ. Mom refused to allow it and after a few months, she was fired. We were blacklisted at that point and we went further west. We ended up here after my sixteenth birthday. Mom caught the coughing disease a month before we got here... Lia took us in, letting Mom do the laundry and letting me help her. It barely paid anything, but we had food, shelter, and a place where we were accepted. When Mom passed, Lia gave me the option to become one of the girls instead of the laundress. I took the offer, as I wanted to give Mom a proper burial. Lia paid for it, and I paid her back after the first year.”
“You’ve had a rough life,” Doc said, knowing what hardship was himself.
“Not as hard as others. I had parents who loved me... not everyone can say that. I didn’t hate the job, either. It was unpleasant at times and degrading at others, but overall, it’s been decent. After all, we get to pick at the Lily, not like the other places. I could never have worked in any other house.”
“Lia does seem to care for you all. It’s very rare from what I’ve seen.”
“Yes… ah, here’s the seamstress’ shop,” Fiala said as she opened the door to the shop.
Inside the shop, a couple of mannequins displayed dresses. Other than those, there were only a couple of comfortable chairs and a table sitting in the front room. There was no counter or place for business transactions like Doc had been expecting. The jingle of a bell over the door was all that let him know this was a shop.
A moment after he shut the door, the other door in the room opened, admitting a woman of middle years. “Greetings. What can I do for you today?”
“Mrs. Ckeiz, I am hoping to get some dresses made,” Fiala said.
Ckeiz gave Doc a sideways glance before giving her attention to Fiala. “More for the Lily?”
“No. I need dresses that are respectable for the public.”
Eyebrows going up, Ckeiz turned to face Doc. “Who are you, sir?”
“Doc Holyday; entrepreneur and gambler. A pleasure,” Doc gave a bow, giving his hat a small flourish.
“Hmm. You are here with the woman?”
“Yes. She asked me to come with her.”
“Giving up your old ways, then?” She directed that to Fiala.
“I am hoping to become a respectable woman.”
“I see. I’m a little shocked. It isn’t often one of your work leaves it. Very well... something tasteful but reserved, yes?”
“Please.”
“Come with me. You may have a seat, sir.”
Doc gave Fiala a smile and took a seat. “I’ll be here.”
“I’ll try to hurry,” Fiala said, following Ckeiz.
Doc didn’t know how long he sat there in the quiet room, but when the door opened, he smiled. Fiala came back with a new dress on, and Doc looked her over from shoes to hair. The dress was similar to one that Lia had worn before, but even more reserved in color and covering. It was a shade of dark blue, and it suited her very well.
“Beautiful,” Doc said, getting to his feet.
Fiala beamed at him and gave him a small curtsy. “Why thank you, sir.”
“I see it is approved, then,” Ckeiz smiled. “Should I start on the other dresses?”
“Yes, please.”
“I will have them delivered when they are ready.”
“Do I need to help cover the cost?” Doc asked.
“I covered it all,” Fiala said.
“Very well. Should we go see about hats?”
“Yes.”
“Good evening to you both,” Ckeiz bid them farewell.
The next shop was only a couple of buildings down the street. The familiar bell jingle announced them as they walked into the lantern-lit shop. Doc’s steps slowed just inside the door and he looked around. The shop had shelves everywhere with hats of all different types resting on them.
“Welcome, welcome! How can we serve you?” An upbeat, fast-talking voice greeted them in an almost manic fashion.
Doc looked around, but didn’t see the person talking. “Looking to pick up a hat that will help when I’m out on the trail. I do enjoy my bowler, but it doesn’t help against the sun.”
A small person with a large nose and eyes bounced out from around one of the shelves. Looking up at him with wide eyes, the man giggled, “Yes, yes. Bowlers for the city, Stets for the country. That’s the best.”
Doc was shocked to see a gnome or something similar standing in front of him. The man’s way of speaking brought the old saying of “mad as a hatter” to life. “I had been thinking the same, sir. What would you suggest?”
“A customer who asks? Rare, yes rare. We’ll show him the best of the hats. Come this way!” The shopkeeper bounced off with an odd jig-like step toward the counter at the back of the room. “Caught me before closing you did, just before.”
Doc followed the man toward the counter. Fiala trailed him, looking a little unnerved as she watched the hatter. “I’d also like to see about a social hat for the lady with me.”
“Oh, a man who pays for the women is paying for the woman,” the little man laughed in a stilted manner. “All kinds, like our hats. That is life, yes?”
“Life is composed of people nowhere near as sensible as your hats.”
“Oh, flattery and truth in one? We think we like this one.” Behind the counter, the hatter stood almost eye-to-eye with Doc thanks to a raised platform. “Now, hat... best hat. You’re a size seven and a half, yes?”
“I’m unsure, honestly. My last milliner didn’t tell me my size.”
Tsking, the hatter rummaged under the counter before pulling out a complex looking device and jumping onto the counter. “Fine. Size you, we will. Hold still— this barely hurts.”
Doc almost jerked away when the man raised the thing above his head, but held still. The contraption felt a little cold, and it didn’t hurt in any way. Doc was just starting to fully relax when the device suddenly gripped his head like a vise. Wincing in pain, he managed to hold still and the feeling was over with quickly.
“Seven and three-eighths,” the man said, removing the device and dropping back behind the counter. “Hat for you, hat for you! Not for us, but for you,” the man half-sang as he started poking around under the counter.
“Doc, maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Fiala whispered.
Doc took her hand in his and shook his head.
“Here, the perfect Stet for you,” the hatter cackled as he pulled out a box. The milliner pulled out a gorgeous black hat with a silver band from inside. It was a Stetson, as far as Doc would call it, and wonderfully made.
Doc accepted the hat and put his bowler on the counter to try it on. The Stet felt perfect and fit his head well. Looking at Fiala, he saw her smiling at him. “Looks good?”
“Yes.”
“Best hat! Told you.”
“I’ll be purchasing it,” Doc said, putting his old hat back on. “Now we need something for the lady.”
“Hat, yes, hats are best.” The hatter moved down the counter and stared at her for a long moment before frowning. “Bestial… hats are difficult for them.” Grumbling, he went scampering off into a back room.
“Maybe I don’t need one,” Fiala said softly. “We should go.”
“Hat!” The triumphant yell came from the back room. The hatter came running out a moment later, holding a hat aloft like he’d found the answer to life, the universe, and everything. “Hat!”
Doc smiled. It was a simple black-felt hat with bits of blue ruffle atop it. “This is it?”
“Yes. This hat is perfect for her!” The hatter jumped onto the counter and held it out to Fiala.
Fiala took the hat and hesitantly placed it on her head. The tips of her ears poked out the carefully concealed slits in the fabric, being mostly obscured by the blue ruffle. Fiala looked to Doc for his opinion.
“That helps draw the outfit together,” Doc smiled. “It works wonderfully.”
“Yes, perfect hat!” the man cackled. “Five dollars for bot
h.”
Doc wasn’t about to argue with the crazed man. He pulled out the money and placed it on the counter. “Sold, sir. A question, if you don’t mind? How long have you been a milliner?”
“All our life,” the hatter replied, his happiness falling away instantly. “So long…”
Suited for Luck Page 22
