Table of Contents
Copyright
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
About the Author
Dedication
Copyright
ISBN 1-58660-773-1
Copyright © 2003 by Tracey Victoria Bateman. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encourgements to the masses.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
One
Oregon City, Oregon 1855
Star Campbell grasped the smooth maple rail and forced her aching legs to climb the stairs. When her feet touched the landing, she breathed a silent prayer of thanks that morning had finally arrived. Wonderful, blessed dawn marked the end of another long night of dodging groping hands and avoiding leering eyes. Only a few more steps to go, then she could stretch her weary body on her cot and, for a few hours, dream of another life.
Pressing a fist to her mouth, she covered a wide yawn and proceeded down the dusty, wooden hallway until she reached the room she shared with her mother on the second floor of Luke’s Saloon. She stopped short of entering as her mother’s voice drifted through the closed door. “Luke, you promised.”
Star frowned at the distressed tone. But it was Luke’s response that made her draw back in horror.
His tone was gruff. . .mocking. “Come, now, Greta. Be reasonable. You’re too old to be of use to me anymore. Star, on the other hand—she’ll draw those lumberjacks like flies to a rubbish pile.”
Star stifled a gasp. Leaning closer, she pressed her ear to the door.
“She’s so young and innocent. Please don’t do this.”
“Young?” A cynical laugh erupted from Luke. “She’s seventeen years old. I should have put her to work two years ago. And as for her innocence. . .do you really think she doesn’t know what you’re doing every night while she’s serving drinks and cleaning tables?”
Heat rushed to Star’s face. Of course, she knew. She hated it, but she knew.
“You’ve seen how the men ask for her.” Luke’s silky, cajoling tone made Star’s skin crawl. She rubbed her arms. “They’d pay any price. Star’ll be a gold mine. And you. . .well, Honey, you wouldn’t have to entertain anymore. I’ll even put you in charge of the other girls.”
Star shrank back as the words hit her with full understanding. Luke wanted her to join the other women? He wanted her to. . .to. . . ? Panic clutched at her heart and sucked the breath from her lungs. Mama had told her over and over that Luke promised she would never have to do. . .that. That all she’d ever have to do in the saloon was serve drinks and food.
Oh, no! I just can’t. . . .
“I won’t have it, Luke Harper!”
Star had never heard her mother raise her voice before, but the words came out in a startling near-scream. “I followed you to every dusty town and filthy mining camp between here and California. I’ve done anything you’ve ever asked of me so that my daughter would have a better life. You promised to send Star back East to school. Or have you conveniently forgotten that promise as well as all the others you’ve made?”
“She’s too old for that now, and you know it. It’s time the girl understands what she’s destined for.” He gave a short laugh, completely void of humor. “Frankly, I’m amazed you’d even consider another future for the daughter of someone like you.”
“Star can have her pick of good men to marry if we send her someplace where folks don’t know her. Kansas City, maybe. Or New York.”
“She can’t hide who she is, Greta, any more than you can. Or me, for that matter. What decent man will ever want her when he finds out what she is?”
The words wound their way around Star’s heart like a tight, heavy chain. Mama had always told her she wasn’t made for this life—that someday the right man would come along and fall in love with her. And Star had dared to believe.
Her mother’s voice drifted with finality through the closed door. “I’m sending her away tomorrow. My little girl will never sell herself to any man. Do you hear me? Never!”
A stream of curses flew from Luke’s lips. Star heard a loud slap, followed by a sickening thud. “After all I’ve done for you, this is the thanks I get?”
A gasp escaped Star’s throat. How dare he? Nearly choked with fury, she reached for the door.
“Miss Star, whut you think you’s doin’?” The deep whisper stopped her before she could storm in to rescue her mother.
Star spun around, coming face to face with Luke’s servant, Samson.
“Luke just hit Mama!”
“Keep yo’ voice down. You want the same thing your mama’s gettin’ in there?”
Pushing at the massive, restraining hand on her arm, Star took in a large gulp of air and muttered an oath. “Let me go,” she hissed.
“Honey, you cain’t stop that man,” Samson said softly. “He gots a mean streak in him a mile wide. You only get yo’sef hurt.”
“I don’t care. Let me go!”
“I cain’t let you do it.” The giant black man swept her up in his arms as though she were a child.
Kicking and fighting to no avail, Star finally fell limp against him. All of the struggle sifted from her body, and she rested her cheek against his comforting chest. He carried her down the stairs, through the deserted main room, and into the kitchen.
Lila, Samson’s wife and the hotel cook, threw down a cleaning rag and pushed out her lower lip indignantly. “Sam,” she said, hands on her boyishly small hips, “what you think you’s doin’ treatin’ Miss Star like she one of dem other women? Set her down.”
Samson gently lowered her to a rough-hewn wooden chair next to the table.
Leaning forward, Star wrapped her arms around herself. Great sobs wrenched her body.
“Whut’s wrong, Honey? Sam, whut da matter wit’ Miss Star?”
Through a haze of disbelief, Star heard Samson quietly explain her situation to Lila. High-pitched whispers followed. Heavy boots thudded on the floor, then the kitchen door opened and closed.
In an instant, Star felt Lila’s comforting arms embrace her, pulling her head against a warm breast. “There, now, Chile. Everythin’s gonna be a’right. Lila and Sam won’ let no one hurt our gal.”
She shook her head, trying to make sense of all that had just happened. “Why? Why would Luke do this?”
“Shhh, don’ you fret none. Sam’s goin’ right now to check on yo’ mama, Honey.”
Relief washed over her. Samson would take care of everything.
Lila pushed a dry cloth into her hand. “Now you jus’ dry dem tears, and Lila’ll fix you a cup of tea.”
Barely deciphering the woman’s words, Star nodded, her gaze fixed on the kitchen door. Moments later, it swung open, and Samson stumbled across the room. Grabbing Star’s arm, he lifted her to her feet and led her to the back door. “You g
ots to get outta here, Miss Star.”
Fear clutched her belly at the tears streaming down the scarred face. “What is it? Where’s Mama?”
“Oh, Miss Star, Luke done kilt her. I heared him telling that no-good Clem to fetch you to his office.”
“No!” Star slipped through his grasp and collapsed to the floor. “Oh, no. No!” It couldn’t be!
Samson hunkered down in front of her and took her face in his massive brown hands. “Honey, I knows dis be a hard thing. But if you stays here, now, you never gets away from Luke.” He grabbed her arms and stood, lifting her with him. “Come on, now. Ole Sam’ll get you outta here.”
Helpless fury seeped through the pain and grief, bolstering Star’s strength. Breaking free from Sam, she snatched up Lila’s butcher knife from the counter and ran back toward the kitchen door. “I’ll go to that snake’s office, all right. But he’ll sure wish I hadn’t!”
“Put down dat knife!” Lila intercepted her, wrapping her long, bony fingers painfully around Star’s wrist. “Sam’s right. You gots to get outta here. You just get yo’sef in a heap o’ trouble, fixin’ to stick a knife in Luke. Is dat whut you thinks yo’ ma’d want?”
“I–I can’t just let him get away with it.” Fog wrapped around her mind. Mama couldn’t be gone. Lila reached forward and brushed away a strand of tear-soaked hair clinging to Star’s cheek. “If Luke done kilt Miss Greta, you gots to go. You cain’t help yo’ mama now.”
With a groan, Star let the knife clatter to the floor. She collapsed against Lila. Strong fingers grasped her arms and pushed her back. Black eyes stared firmly into Star’s. “You ain’t gots time fo’ dis. Grievin’ can come later, Miss Star. Sam, get her outta here.”
Star had no strength left to fight as Sam once again took her by the arm and guided her toward the door.
“What do you think you’re doing, Boy?”
Star gasped and spun around. Clem, Luke’s strong-arm man, made an imposing figure standing in the doorway. A scowl twisted his face, and his burly chest stuck out as though he were itching for a fight.
“Mister Clem,” Samson began, “Miss Star, here was jus’ goin’ out fo’ a lil’ while. I thought I best keep an eye on her.”
Clem sneered and sized him up. “Miss Star ain’t going nowheres, Boy. Luke wants to see her in his office.”
“’Dat so?” Samson shuffled his feet, but kept his gaze fixed to the floor. As he did so, he inched Star closer to the back door. “When I opens de door you run lak de wind.”
“What was that, Boy? You talkin’ back to me?” Clem pulled back his coat to reveal his pistol.
“No, Suh. You knows I wouldn’ do dat. I was jus’ tellin’ Miss Star she better go see Mister Luke like you says.”
Fingering the Colt, Clem narrowed his gaze. His nostrils flared. “Move away, and let her by.”
Samson took one step back as though he would comply. In a flash, he reached behind Star and flung the door open. “Go!” He gave her a shove.
She stumbled across the threshold and landed hard on the ground. Behind her, a gunshot rang out. Lila screamed.
Star looked back. Samson lay motionless on the wooden floor. A wailing Lila threw herself across his body. Her mournful cries rang out in the smoky, sawdust-filled air.
Oh, no. Not Sam. Star scrambled to her feet and took a step toward the kitchen, stopping at the sound of Lila’s shrill voice. “Miss Star, you get outta here.”
“You best stay where you are, Girl.” Clem stepped away from the door and started toward her. “I can give you the same thing he got.”
Anger burned inside of Star. “Samson is twice the man you’ll ever be, you stinking, murdering skunk!”
“Run, Miss Star!”
“Shut up, Woman,” Clem growled. With two fingers, he snatched a half-smoked cigar from his lips and tossed it to the floor, never breaking his stride. As he raised his leg to step over Samson’s lifeless body, Lila grabbed his boot with both hands and pushed hard. He landed flat on his stomach, uttering curses.
Over his sprawled body, Star met Lila’s dark, beseeching gaze. Star recognized the woman’s silent plea. If she were caught, Sam would have died for no reason.
Clem recovered and scrambled to his feet. He sneered down at the black woman, his heavy hand poised to strike.
Through a veil of tears, Star pressed her fingertips to her lips. She extended them toward Lila as Clem’s arm came down, sending the woman back to the floor with a thud. Resisting the urge to return to Lila’s side, Star sprang into action and took off through the dirty alley as fast as her feet would carry her. She darted past the clutter lining the buildings and scattered in the street.
“You better stop right now, Girly!”
Desperately trying to ignore the corset cutting painfully into her ribs, sucking the breath from her body, she ran on. Her lungs felt like they were on fire as she made her way around the nearest corner.
Star glanced over her shoulder. Panic welled up inside as she spied Clem closing the distance between them.
The walkway filled with pedestrians the nearer she came to the center of town. On and on she ran. Her feet landed hard on the boardwalk. Thud. . .thud. . .thud. . .matching the rhythm of her heart as it pounded in her ears. Without slowing her pace, Star glanced behind her. He’s going to catch me.
“Oomph.” She came to a jarring halt, slammed against a rock-hard chest.
Strong hands encircled her arms in a steadying grasp. “Whoa, there, young lady. Slow down. You running from a swarm of riled bees?”
Star glanced up into soft, teasing brown eyes. Her heart leapt into her throat. “Wh–what?”
“Are you all right?” he asked gently.
Terror washed over her, and she craned her neck, her eyes searching for Clem. He stood, hands on his hips, only footsteps away.
“Turn me loose,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.
A frown creased his brow, and he looked closer as though studying her. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Please, it’s none of your concern.”
“Better let the lady go, like she said.”
Star gasped at the sound of Clem’s voice. “Come along with me, Star. You don’t want to keep Luke waiting.”
“N–no. You leave me alone. I’m not going back.”
The long scar along one of Clem’s cheeks whitened in contrast to the rest of his face, which had turned red as he fought to control his anger.
“Miss, are you sure you don’t need help?” the stranger asked, keeping his hard gaze fixed on Clem.
Still locked in the iron grip, Star’s emotions riffled between relief and hysteria.
“This is none of your affair, Mister,” Clem growled. “Back off, and me and the girl will be on our way.”
“It appears to me like the young lady doesn’t want to go with you.”
Star watched as Clem slowly fingered his pistol. With a gasp, she twisted her body, trying to break free. When the fingers tightened around her arms, she pulled back her foot and kicked hard at the stranger’s leg. He let out a yowl and turned her loose.
Star darted past the man and ran as fast as she could, her ears straining for the sound of a gunshot.
When her aching legs refused to move another step, she ducked inside the livery. The smell of fresh hay and manure rose to her nostrils, causing her hollow stomach to churn. She made her way into an empty stall, hoping Clem wouldn’t look that far if he was still following her. Shivering, she lifted a horse blanket from the shoulder-high partition between stalls and wrapped it around her body.
Still unable to draw a full breath, she gasped for air and wished she’d never begged Mama for a corset in the first place. Mama. The image of the precious woman who had given her life, who had raised her with tenderness and love, sent a wave of pain to Star’s heart. How could the dearest, kindest woman in the world—her entire world—be dead?
The thought brought tears to Star’s eyes and sapped her strength. Un
able to stand a moment longer, she sank to the livery floor. She drew her legs to her chest, pressed her forehead to her knees, and gave in to her grief. When at last the tears were spent, she curled into a ball on the hay-covered floor and closed her eyes in hopeless defeat.
Despair cast a shadow over her heart. What was the point in running? She had nowhere to go. She had no friends other than Samson and Lila, and they couldn’t help her now. Neither could she help them.
Weary and heartsick as she felt, suddenly nothing mattered. If Clem caught her and took her back, so what? What did she have to live for, anyway? Mama was dead. Star was all alone, with no money and no family or friends. And Luke. . .how could she have been so wrong about him? Anger coursed through her at the thought. She couldn’t let him get away with murdering Mama.
The memory of Samson lying on the ground, dead from a gunshot wound, flashed to her mind, strengthening her resolve. Samson had died saving her from Clem. She couldn’t let him down either. She would hide until she was sure Clem had given up looking for her. Then she’d escape once it got dark and she could slip out. She’d get away, all right. Away from the filthy saloons and men who wanted something from her that only her husband would ever have.
But escape would come later. . .after she’d rested and regained some strength. Star knew one thing for sure: If it was the last thing she did, she’d come back to Oregon City one day and give Luke what he had coming.
❧
Rage simmered, then rose to a boil as Michael Riley matched the burly man glare for glare. He’d recovered from the girl’s kick just in time to stretch out his leg and send “Clem” pitching to the ground before he could take out after her. The gun had flown from the man’s hand and now lay in the mud, out of reach.
“Take it easy,” he warned as Clem slowly climbed to his feet.
As a general rule, Michael preferred to mind his own business, but the one thing he couldn’t abide was a man bullying a woman. Any woman. For any reason. Even one who had just booted the daylights out of his leg.
“Now look what you went and did, Mister,” the man said through yellowed, gritted teeth. “You let her get away again.”
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