Tears slid down Grace’s cheeks, and she sniffled, grabbed a hankie and blew her nose. “I didn’t realize—I just thought—”
“That they’d chosen this life? Some do, some don’t. And once you’re in it, it’s hard to get out. Men might use whores for their pleasures, but they very seldom marry them.” Maggie rose to her feet.
“Maggie, wait, please. I have to know. Was Aunt Lily…one of them?” Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for the answer.
“Well, I won’t lie to you, child. Aye, she was in the early days, but not the last few years.” Maggie smiled and stared off into nowhere. “And she was the most sought-after girl in Texas. Full of life and fun-loving. She was always laughing. The men came from all over just to get a look-see at her and be in her presence.”
Grace gnawed on her bottom lip. “That’s not how I knew her at all. She was always so quiet and retiring. I even thought she was shy.”
“That’s because she cared what you thought. Nobody else’s opinion mattered—only yours.”
“I wish she had trusted me enough to confide in me. I wouldn’t have felt any different about her.”
“No?” Maggie lifted an eyebrow. “When you found out about Lottie and Su Ling and the others, when you found out what they were, what did you feel? Revulsion. You could see it on your face. Be honest, Gracie. It would have mattered to you, wouldn’t it?”
Grace choked back tears. She hated to admit it, but Maggie was right. It would have mattered. “Maggie, just one more question. Why? Was it her father who—? Did she need money? Why?”
“Lily was one of a kind, honey. She was independent, stubbornly independent. She didn’t want anybody telling her what to do. She didn’t want to be pushed into some boring job just because she was a woman—and she didn’t want no husband trying to boss her around. Ranch life would have bored her to tears. I think educated folk would call her ‘ahead of her time.’”
The words slowly sank into Grace’s confused mind, and she whistled softly. “I sort of understand that. I applied for two jobs in Philadelphia, but was told they were men’s jobs—and I personally knew the men who held those positions, and they were idiots.”
Maggie barked out a laugh. “You sound like Lily now.”
“Well, it’s true, and Matthew thinks—”
“Who is Matthew?”
Grace blushed. “A man I’ve been seeing for about a year. He’s been hinting…about marriage.”
“And if he asked you? What would you say?”
“Well, of course, I would say yes. He’s a wonderful man, and I’m fortunate to have him.”
“Then go home to him. Don’t lose him.”
“Believe me, I’ll leave as soon as I can. What about you, Maggie?”
“You want to know about me?” A smile crossed the older woman’s lips. “That’s sweet of you. No one has really asked about me in a long time. And to answer your question, yes, I was…a whore. Until I got hurt…and couldn’t…go on.” A shadow crossed her face, a hint of bitterness. “But it doesn’t matter. Everyone came to see Lily anyway. You want to see a picture of Lily?”
“But I have pictures of her.”
“Not like this one.”
Grace hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, I think I would.”
“Come on,” Maggie said and walked to the door.
Grace followed her down the richly-carpeted hallway to the other side of the house. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead. Three matching mahogany tables held various objects, and pictures of pastoral scenes dotted the wall. The curtains were also damask and blocked the bright light.
“The house is really two houses,” Maggie explained. “The men, I mean the patrons, always come in on this side. That door there opens up into the bar. Inside the bar, there’s a stairway up to the girls’ rooms. Lily’s private rooms are all on the other side where we came from.” She opened the door and led Grace inside.
Although Grace didn’t know what to expect, the luxurious interior shocked her, as her aunt’s office had. The bar spanned eight to ten feet with a highly polished counter. Sparkling glasses lined one end of the bar. The brass foot rail gleamed. About ten tables dotted the room, plush chairs clustered around them. A piano sat in the far corner. The draperies were like those in Lily’s office.
Then she saw it. The picture.
A young Lily.
Grace gasped and sank into the nearest chair. The woman in the picture was strikingly beautiful. She wore a low-cut red dress with lace straps. Silver feathers adorned her hair, and she held a silver fan. Around her neck was a necklace of red rubies. Matching earrings clung to her ears.
But it was her smile that grabbed Grace’s attention. It was a wicked, mischievous smile that exuded self confidence.
“You look like her, you know.” Maggie’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Blond hair, green eyes, heart-shaped face, and when you smile, I’m reminded of her.”
Grace stood and walked over to the painting. “She was so beautiful.”
“Aye.”
The pain in Maggie’s voice touched Grace. “You loved her, didn’t you?”
“Aye. We were like sisters. She was the only family I ever had. It was an honor to take care of her all these years.”
The door opened, and three men walked into the room.
“That’s Rick,” Maggie said and pointed at the tall, lanky guy, “the bartender, and Jack , he’s the piano player. Joe there, with all the muscles, he’s sort of like a guard. He takes care of the troublemakers. The dealers will be here soon.”
Grace smiled wanly at the men. More people who would soon be unemployed—because of her. “So you’ve been keeping the place open?”
Maggie’s face reddened, and she nodded. “Aye. We had to pay the bills, and we didn’t know what you were going to do with the place.”
Rick marched over behind the bar while Joe took his place at the door. Jack, an older man probably in his sixties, sauntered over and shook her hand. “Howdy, young missy. What’s your name?”
“Grace.”
“Welcome to Miss Lily’s Boarding House. You’ll like it here. The girls make a good living here—”
His words shocked Grace. Her mouth gaped open. Why, he thought she was one of them. “I beg your pardon,” she snapped at him.
“Jack, this here is Grace, Lily’s niece,” Maggie interrupted. “She’s from back east. She is Lily’s heir. She’s not one of the girls.”
“Oh, miss, I’m sorry. I assumed—”
Grace swallowed the lump in her throat. “That’s very understandable.” She turned to Maggie. “I think I’d like to go to my room now.”
“Sure, honey. I’ll show you to your room. I put your things in your aunt’s room. I figured you’d like that.”
Butterflies fluttered in Grace’s stomach. “No, no. I’d rather not. Is there another bedroom?”
“Of course, honey. Follow me.”
“Thank you. It’s been a long day, and I’m really tired.”
****
Lively music floated on the night breeze as Logan rode into town. A quick glance told him it came from Lily’s, and he steered his horse in that direction. As tired as he was, he hadn’t been able to sleep and had figured some female company, maybe the beautiful blond, might help him…forget…at least for a little while.
He dismounted, tied the reins to the hitching rail and stepped upon the porch. He opened the door and walked inside. He paused and scanned the room, noting every detail, something that had kept him alive for a long time now.
He noted the guard at the door, the bartender, piano player and three dealers. Six men. And four women. An older gray-haired woman sat on a platform by the bar, lording it over the room, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She was probably there to make sure the house got its cut of…everything. A redhead clung to a rangy cowboy at the bar while a young Oriental woman sat on a man’s lap at one of the tables. A third woman led a cowboy up the stairs. The fourth, a brunette, headed
his way.
He sauntered over to the bar, and she sidled up next to him. “Hello, cowboy. You want buy Frenchy a drink?”
Logan smiled at her. She was a good looking woman with an ample bosom and rounded curves. Her sexy accent stirred his interest. “Sure.” He motioned to the bartender. “I’ll have a whiskey, and whatever the lady wants.”
The bartender set a glass in front of Logan and filled it with the amber liquid, then poured one for Frenchy.
“Merci,” she said and leaned against him. “Hey, cowboy, you cute. You want buy something else? Frenchy show you good time.”
“That’s right tempting, ma’am, but not tonight. Maybe another time.” Even though Logan said no, his body thought yes.
“May not be another time.” She took a sip of her beer and rubbed up against him.
“No? You leaving town?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged, the satin straps of her gown falling off her shoulders. “Lily’s place…no more.”
“What?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oui. It is true. Maybe last night open.”
“I heard Lily got killed. Damned shame.”
“Oui, damned shame. I cry much. Lily take care of us.”
“Do they know who did it?”
Frenchy shook her head.
“Was it robbery?”
Another shrug of the slim shoulders. “Don’t know.”
“How did it happen?”
“No one knows for sure. She went out riding one day, didn’t come back. Maggie and Randolph go look for her. Bring her home dead.”
“Where did they find her?” Logan took another swig of his drink.
“Near Painted Rock Canyon.”
The liquor went down the wrong way, and Logan coughed. Painted Rock Canyon was only a few miles from the Double Bar B. “What do you think she was doing out there?”
“You ask many questions. You go talk to Sheriff.”
Frenchy was getting tired of his questions, so he changed the subject. “I just might do that. So you have a new owner, huh?”
“Yeah, new owner—sell house.”
“Who’s the new owner?” He motioned to the bartender to refill her drink—and keep her talking. He was real anxious to hear her answer. He had a gut feeling the blond was now the owner. “Is it the dragon lady up there by the bar?”
“Non. That Maggie McBride. She want be big shot, but she just work here, like me.”
“Then who owns it?”
“Lily’s niece now own house. Her name Grace. She no like it here. She say she sell, and sell right away.”
“Yeah?” And even though the blond wasn’t in the room, Logan pretended to look around. “Is she here?”
“Non, she’s upstairs.”
He whistled under his breath. She sure hadn’t wasted any time. “Hmmm, maybe I’ll make an offer on the place. Can I see her?”
“Non, she say no disturb.”
Logan pointed to the stairs. “She up there?”
Frenchy shook her head, her lip curling in disdain. “Non. She think she better than us. She on other side of house. I think she go dinner with Sheriff.”
Logan’s eyebrows shot up, and he whistled softly. The idea of the beautiful blond and Ben Johnson together was like a knife twisting in his belly. He hadn’t been jealous of anyone since he was sixteen, and he didn’t like the feeling. His consternation must have shown on his face because Frenchy laughed.
“I don’t understand it either.”
A plan formed in Logan’s mind. “Well, I gotta go now.” He pulled a bill from his pocket and tucked it into her cleavage.
“Merci. You sure you go, cowboy? Frenchy take good care of you.”
“I bet you would.” With a smile, he turned and left. But once outside, he made his way around the other side of the house. He peered in the window and saw no one, then proceeded to the next window. Again, the room was empty. Then he was at the kitchen door. He tried the door knob, then grinned to himself.
Unlocked.
He stepped inside, then into the dining room. He passed through and saw a stairway to the second floor. Carpet muffled his footsteps as he crept up the stairs. He stopped at the landing and listened for any sound. When he heard nothing, he peered around the corner. The way was clear, so he tiptoed to the first door. It opened into an office. The expensive furniture brought a whistle to his lips. Quickly, he searched the desk and file cabinet. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he’d know when he found it—maybe the deed to the Double Bar B. The second room was stacked with furniture, old luggage and several boxes full of clothing. The third was a spacious bedroom, but it was empty. A canopied bed with a silken coverlet occupied the middle of the room. Crystal chandeliers sat on nightstands while plush carpet covered the floor. Satin curtains hung over the windows. This must have been Lily’s bedroom. It was rumored she liked to live high on the hog.
He made his way to the third floor and glanced down the hallway. All doors stood ajar.
They were all bedrooms. Sheets covered the furniture in the first two, and layers of dust said these rooms hadn’t been used in quite a while. Clothing was strewn everywhere in the third room, and he figured this was where Lily’s niece slept. Pale moonlight lit most of the room. Not knowing the whereabouts of the room’s occupant, he dared not light the lamp. He hurried to the wardrobe and quickly searched it. Nothing. He walked over to the writing table in the corner, pulled the drawer open and rifled through the contents. Nothing. But as he closed the drawer, it stuck. He leaned over and saw a lace handkerchief jammed in one corner. He tugged it free. A shiny object fell to the floor. As he picked it up, footsteps on the stairway caught his attention. He stashed the object in his vest pocket and looked for a place to hide. But before he could move, she stood in the doorway. Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her chest, then she turned and ran. He caught her in three steps, grabbed her from behind and clamped his hand over her mouth. “Be still. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She struggled against him, kicking him in the shins and clawing at his face with her fingernails, but he held her effortlessly. She was soft against him, all female curves, her backside against his sex, and his body surged to life. Her scent floated around him like an aromatic noose. “I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth. I’m warning you not to scream. Understand?”
She nodded, and he took his hand away.
“Who are you?” Her voice trembled. “What do you want?”
He reached up and unpinned her hair, and it fell in shimmering waves down her back. He wrapped his hands in the luxurious mane, loving the feel of it against his skin. “I want you.” He surprised himself with those words, but it was the truth. “Isn’t this a whore house? How much do you charge?”
“Oh, how dare you.” She pulled free, swung around and slapped him across the cheek, a stinging blow. “Get out of here immediately.”
“You’re not in any position to give orders.” He ran his finger down her cheek, her neck and the slope of her breast.
She knocked it aside. “There are women downstairs…ready to cater to your… needs.”
“But I don’t want them. I want you.” He pulled her back into his embrace. “Didn’t you take care of Sheriff Johnson?” Her eyes darkened to almost black, and she tried to scratch his face.
“You bastard!”
But he cut off her next words with his mouth. At first, his kiss was hard and demanding, and she fought him. But he softened his kiss, his lips feather soft against her mouth. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed against him. He grinned to himself. Once a prostitute, always a prostitute.
He relaxed his grip, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He grinned smugly to himself. At that moment, she raised her knee and slammed it against his groin. With a cry that came from deep within, he doubled over and grabbed his privates. She shoved him onto the bed and dashed for the door, her screams echoing throughout the room.
/> Even as he gasped for air and tried to stand, he grinned to himself. She had grit. He stumbled over to the window, threw up the sash and climbed out.
Chapter 4
As bright Texas sunlight streamed across the floor, Grace stretched, sat up in bed and massaged the bunched muscles at the nape of her neck. Her head pounded like someone had hit her with a hammer. Sleep had eluded her for most of the night. The intruder’s visit had left her shaken, and she’d insisted Joe stand guard outside her door.
Even then, she hadn’t been able to sleep. The loud music from the other side of the house had kept her awake, as well as thoughts of what the women were doing in their rooms. She’d tossed and turned until she was exhausted.
As she slid from beneath the covers, papers underneath the desk caught her eye. She padded over, knelt and picked them up. She was sure the blank stationery had not been there earlier. A quick scan of the room showed the bureau drawers open, and some of her lingerie peeked out of them. Again, she was certain the drawers were shut when she earlier left the room. She surveyed the room, but nothing else seemed disturbed. Then it hit her right between the eyes. Last night’s intruder must have searched the room…touched her things…her unmentionables.
But looking for what?
She walked over to the window and hugged her arms around her waist. The glare hurt her eyes, and she shielded them with her hand. Outside, the vast landscape stretched before her, majestic in its scope and wild beauty. She sighed. Every day this land had appealed to her more and more—until last night. Now she looked forward to meeting with her aunt’s attorney and making plans to sell the…boarding house, and returning to Philadelphia as soon as possible, and if it didn’t sell right away, Randolph could sell it for her.
But first things first, she had to say goodbye to Aunt Lily. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. Burying someone you loved was hard enough, but burying the only person who’d ever loved you was worse.
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