Cowboys and Highlanders

by Scott, Tarah

  “I need a job.”

  Sandy burst into raucous laughter, causing her milky brown eyes to sparkle. “And what would a prim little girl like you do in my brothel? You don’t look like you have any experience with men.” She walked a wide circle around Allison looking at her from every angle. “You’re pretty enough, but men who come in here don’t require a woman to be beautiful as long as she’s attentive.” Her smile, filled with mirth, caused her to cough.

  Nervous under Sandy’s scrutiny, Allison’s fingers fidgeted with the fabric of her dress.

  “What’s your name?” Sandy asked.

  “Allison.”

  “So Allison, you want to be one of my girls?” Sandy sat behind her desk. Slipping on her reading glasses, she said, “I think you ought to know what I’ll expect.” She extinguished her cigarette into a polished copper ashtray. “We’re busy and not just in the evenings. Sometimes the girls do more business during the day than they do at night. My doors never close. If a man comes in and wants to see you at four in the morning on a Sunday and you’ve only been asleep for an hour, wake up. You’re going back to work.”

  She leaned back in the chair and stretched like a cat. Allison remained standing in the center of the room. “Sit down. You’re making me uncomfortable,” Sandy instructed and then continued. “It’s hard work, Allison. Maybe you think it’s glamorous. It’s not. Most of the men are not knights in shining armor. Some are dirty and most of them stink from the mines.” Her deep, whiskey intonation lost all trace of humor.

  Allison finally found her voice. “Or maybe most of the girls in here are just like me. I didn’t have a choice when I left home. Now I’m here, and I have nowhere else to go. Does anyone choose this profession?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. A few are like myself and enjoy men. I could never be a farmer’s wife. I’m a preacher’s daughter. But you’re right, most of the girls are uneducated, and then they find themselves here, and aren’t quite sure how it happened.”

  Allison sat in the chair across from the Sandy. “I know exactly why I’m here, to have sex with men for money. Every girl has a first time. I’m sure mine will be no different. I knew when I walked through the door that this was a brothel. I’m fully aware that I’m asking you to give me a job as a whore. Will I like doing it? I hope not,” she said, disgusted.

  “All right.” Sandy held up her hands. “You’ve sold me. I want you to watch the other girls tonight. This might not be something you can do.”

  “How much money will I make?” Allison’s cheeks warmed just saying the words.

  “Depends on you. Do you have any experience?”

  Allison shook her head.

  “I assume your mother explained a few things?”

  “My fiancé made sure I knew what was expected from a wife. I know about the intimacies between a man and a woman.”

  “Fiancé?” She was shaking her head. “I don’t need a husband storming through my doors.”

  “Ex-fiancé. He is far from here and won’t be coming for me.”

  Sandy hesitated. “Learning there’s more to sex than the basics won’t take you long. But you’re concerned with the money.” Sandy sighed and lit another cigarette. “I provide a place for you to sleep, food for you to eat, and I provide the customers. Without my name and reputation, this place is just another brothel. You’re here because you know this is a clean establishment.

  “My girls are the cleanest and the most attentive, and I’ll expect the same from you. I’ve been in this business for a long time and I’m fair. I take seventy-five percent of everything you earn. I’m responsible for the upkeep on the building, and I hire security. You won’t have to worry about feeling the force of a man’s fist. No one has ever been beat up in my brothel. I have a contract you’ll need to sign.”

  Sandy walked around the desk and took Allison by the elbow. “I’m going to talk to Marion. I want her to show you around. You can sleep in her room tonight. In the morning, if you still want the job, we’ll assign you a room and get you fitted for a new wardrobe.” She leaned in close to Allison’s ear as they walked down the hall. “I pay for that, too. Marion is about your size. See if she’ll loan you something for tonight.” Sandy looked at Allison’s much smaller breasts. “You’re far too slender to fit anything of mine.” Sandy laughed causing her extended bosom to nearly spill from her corset. “Allison, honey, in this line of work you’re going to have to develop a sense of humor.” She looked at Allison’s breasts again. “If nothing else.”

  * * * * *

  Laughter echoed through the halls. Women fawned over men. And men consumed liquor. Either the whores should have gone into the theater, or they were actually having a good time. Allison wanted to laugh again, instead she felt like crying.

  The first time would be the hardest. A stranger who wasn’t aware she was a virgin might not show her gentleness. She wanted tenderness and love, but knew the men who visited whorehouses weren’t looking for long-term relationships. They didn’t care about conversation and they surely weren’t going to hold her hand. Tomorrow she would be set apart from a life as a wife and mother. What man would want a whore for anything more than a night of sex?

  “Sandy?” Allison gently tapped on the office door.

  “Come on in, honey.”

  Allison entered and closed the door behind her.

  “Change your mind already? Well, don’t worry if this work isn’t the life for you. You’re a good girl and you’ll make some lucky man a proper wife. Going to have a couple of little ones too, I’ll bet?” Sandy winked and her ruby-red lips tilted slightly higher.

  “I haven’t changed my mind.” Allison sat in a chair and tried to cover her bosom with her arms. Giving up, she folded her hands in her lap. The dress Marion had given her to wear was low cut. “The girls are laughing and smiling. Everyone seems happy.”

  “Most of the girls here have been in the business a long time,” Sandy said. “I suppose if they didn’t like it, they wouldn’t still be doing it. Hell, even I still see a couple of regulars. Although most of the time, I socialize in the lounge. Once this business is in your blood, it’s hard to walk away. There aren’t very many places to go from here, Allison, make sure this is what you want.”

  “I don’t want to be here. I’m out of money and out of options.” Allison was quiet for a moment. “I’m scared, Sandy.” She blinked tears from her eyes. “I’ve never—” She didn’t have to finish the sentence.

  “We have ways of seeing that your discomfort is minimized before you take a man to your room, or I can make sure your first time is with someone who’ll be gentle. Although,” she said with raised eyebrows. “You could get a lot of money. Men will pay more for a virgin.”

  Her stomach churned. “I know. That’s why I wouldn’t want them to know. I don’t want to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.”

  “Enjoy yourself tonight. Tomorrow will take care of itself. But listen, you let me know if you see someone who sparks your interest.”

  “What if no one wants to be with me?”

  “Don’t you worry. You’ll feel eyes on every part of you tonight. Don’t be afraid. Smile, laugh, try to get comfortable with attention from men.” Sandy grinned. “After you discover the pleasure of a man, you’ll grow to anticipate it. Some know just how to stir a woman.”

  She knew exactly what Sandy spoke of. Just thinking about Mr. Bester caused lightness in her stomach. She might just have to imagine every man she took to her bed looked like the rugged Montana man.

  * * * * *

  The next night, Allison spent an extra few minutes looking in the mirror. She wore her hair like the other girls. With the sides combed back and held with a clip, her hair cascaded down her back. A few ringlets framed her face. She finished the look with a touch of Marion’s pink rouge and a bit of red tint on her lips.

  Until her clothing could be made, she borrowed a few pieces from everyone to give herself an assortment of feathers, lace, and silk. Ton
ight she wore a crushed velvet, burgundy camisole. Sheer black lace billowed from the slit up the front of the matching skirt. A string of glass beads draped her neck.

  “Are you ready?” Marion came into the room. Her shiny, black hair fell to her waist. “We’re busy,” she said, excited. Lashes, long and black, framed almond-shaped eyes. “I saw this man last week, and he said he’d be back to see me.” She squealed and sat in front of her vanity to freshen her make-up. Although with her olive complexion, it wasn’t necessary. “I just saw him downstairs.” She blotted her lips and went to the washbowl. “Damn.” She turned to Allison. “I’m out of water. He can’t see me until I’m ready. Will you run for me?”

  Allison took the water pitcher. “Of course. I’m not ready to be seen yet either. This will give me something to do.” Allison left the room and returned a few minutes later.

  “Thank you,” Marion said gratefully, taking the pitcher and then filling the basin.

  “You’re this excited to see him? Isn’t sex mundane by now?”

  Marion rolled her eyes in a playful manner. Then she took off her dress. “He smells good, dresses well, and takes his time to make sure I’m pleasured.”

  Allison blushed.

  Marion laughed. “After a while, men all look the same. Then a man comes in that sets him apart. Frank makes love…with rigorous passion.” Marion splashed water under her arms and between her legs. Then she quickly dried and applied scented powder to her skin. “If someone gets to him before I do…” She let the statement hang.

  “Go then.” Allison pushed her toward the door. “I’ve finished moving my things to the other room. I’ll clean up in here, change the water, straighten the bed, and pick up the clothes. Give him a drink and give me ten minutes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Allison nodded.

  “Allison, I’m so glad you’ve joined us.” She lightly kissed her on the cheek. “I think you’re stalling. You can’t avoid the inevitable. There always has to be a first. I know Sandy is watching for someone who’ll be gentle. Taking a man to bed isn’t love. It’s work. And once you’re a whore, you’ll never be anything else. Why don’t you find some handsome cowboy to give your virginity to? Then the choice is yours. Just avoid the miners. They smell and are too tired to put in any effort.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I won’t be with someone I love.”

  “The first time isn’t for pleasure. Just get it over with. But after that, sex feels good. I love a man with strong hands and plenty between his legs.”

  “Marion!”

  She smiled wickedly. “Believe me, it isn’t often I get pleasured, too.”

  Allison closed the door. Marion’s laughter faded as she made her way downstairs.

  Later that night, Allison mingled with the other girls. She even began to feel comfortable talking to the gentlemen having drinks in the lounge. Sandy was always in view when Allison needed encouragement. A wink and an inviting smile infused Allison with new determination to find someone to take upstairs. Many men expressed their desire, but Sandy had yet to give the green light.

  * * * * *

  Marion returned two hours later to find Sandy watching the lounge from an obscured position. “So how come she’s still socializing?”

  “You look worn out.” Sandy chuckled.

  “Yeah, well, you don’t rush a master.” She smoothed her hair with the palms of her hands. “So what’s up? Who’s the lucky one?”

  “Allison is a lady. She reeks of money even though she claims she doesn’t have any. She shouldn’t be here.” Sandy sighed. “I had hoped she’d change her mind. I don’t know what she’s hiding or what she’s running from but she can’t hide her upbringing. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why someone of her caliber would choose this life over one of comfort.”

  “You did.”

  Sandy shrugged.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Allison made her choice. What can I do about it? If she’s not working for me, she’ll work for someone else.”

  “With her style and looks, she’s going to be popular.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Sandy left Marion and entered the lounge.

  “Allison, I see you’ve met Mr. Clark. How’s business at the bakery?” she asked.

  “Busy. My daughters take care of most things now. They say I work too much. I decided to listen for once. I came into your lovely parlor to relax. I’ve been having a pleasant conversation with Miss Allison.”

  Mr. Clark was a well-groomed man in his fifties. He’d been coming to the brothel ever since his wife passed a few years prior.

  “Perhaps Miss Allison would like to escort you upstairs?”

  Allison’s mouth suddenly became dry and her palms grew moist. “All right.” Allison stood when Sandy gave her that knowing wink that said everything would be fine.

  Mr. Clark carried his hat as he followed Allison to her room.

  “I don’t need much,” he said, closing the door. Mr. Clark placed his hat on the hook on the wall. “Here.” He handed her a small bottle of perfume. “Please wear this.” He took off his suit coat and began to unhook the clasp of his trousers. “I miss my wife, you see.” His trousers fell to the floor. “Of course, you’re young and beautiful. You could never look like my wife, but you can smell like her.”

  Allison opened the perfume and sniffed the overly sweet fragrance. Using as little as possible, she touched the stopper to her wrists and neck.

  Slowly and methodically, Allison unbuttoned the front of her corset while Mr. Clark finished undressing then went to the bed. She turned from his stare and began removing her clothing. Falling to the floor, her skirt pooled around her feet leaving her standing nude with her back to Mr. Clark.

  “Turn around, Miss Allison. Let me admire you.”

  Allison’s chin nearly rested on her chest as she turned and let her arms fall to her sides.

  Mr. Clark patted the edge of the bed.

  Allison approached. Every step felt like a thousand pounds. Her legs were exhausted when she found herself sitting on the bed.

  Mr. Clark, with a warm, soft, but trembling hand touched the skin of her shoulder. Allison shuddered. Tears filled her eyes and then spilled onto her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

  “Sorry? You’ve done nothing wrong? Have I done something to upset you?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not you,” she said, hiccupping through her words. “You’re so kind to be patient with me.”

  Realization dawned on Mr. Clark. Red crawled up his neck and settled in his cheeks. “Miss Alison, you are a beautiful girl. I can see now you’re still a child. I’ve got two daughters at home and I could never look at them again knowing that I was a first for you.” He hurried and pulled on his trousers.

  “Please stay.” She took part of the blanket from the bed to cover herself.

  Mr. Clark was dressed with his suit coat misbuttoned. “You do smell nice.” He turned and slipped out the door.

  Allison fell back onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow.

  A few minutes later, a soft knock came to the door. “Allison?” Marion asked. “Can I come in?” She didn’t wait for a reply. Marion entered the room and sat next to Allison on the bed. “What happened?”

  Allison groaned, buried underneath the blanket.

  “Sandy caught Mr. Clark on his way out. He was upset.” Marion put her foot up on the bed and picked at her toenail. “Sandy apologized to him. It took a little convincing, but Sandy was able to send him off with Cassie.” She put her foot back down, and leaned over Allison placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know Mr. Clark is a nice man. If he did anything to hurt you—”

  Allison interrupted. “It wasn’t him. He knew it was my first time when I took off my clothes. I bawled at the first touch.”

  “Sandy isn’t mad.” Marion paused. “Allison, this isn’t the job for you. Everyone knows it. That is everyone, except you.”
Marion lay back against the pillow. “Oh, Ally.” She sighed. “What are you going to do? Sandy is a great lady, but she’s not a charity. No one stays unless they work.”

  “I know.” Allison sat up and wiped her wet cheeks with her fingers. “When I couldn’t find work, this seemed like a solution. I guess it’s not.” She adjusted the blanket to keep from exposing herself. “I’ll talk to Sandy and ask her if I can stay tonight. Tomorrow I’ll look for somewhere to live and figure out what I can do for money.” Keeping the blanket tucked around her. Allison stood from the bed and picked clothing off the floor. “At least I haven’t ordered the wardrobe.” She fingered the soft velvet of the skirt in her hand then handed it to Marion. “I won’t need this.”

  “We’ll figure it out together.” She gave Allison an encouraging smile. “After you bathe. With that smell I can’t stay in this room another minute. ” Marion went to the water pitcher. “I’ll return the favor,” she said, picking it up. “Obviously Mr. Clark had intended to stay with you.” She crinkled her nose. “I recognize the scent.”

  Marion returned a few minutes later splashing water in her haste to get back to Allison. “I have the greatest idea.” She set the pitcher next to the bowl. “It’s cold because there wasn’t any hot water on the stove.” She filled the large, ceramic dish. “It’s been a busy night. I guess no one has had a chance to keep up with the demand.”

  “I don’t mind cold water,” Allison said. She was grateful for the chance to wash some of the fragrance from her skin. Between the tears, the heavy aroma, and the headache pounding through her temples, she was nauseous.

  “Well, I do. I admit it.” Marion put her hand over her heart. “I love what I do. I won’t ever stop. I’m never getting married. Long story, but I’m never getting a baby either so I’ve got no reason not to lay down with whomever I want.” She put her hands on her hips. Her eyes brightened along with the excitement escalating her voice. “And it isn’t bragging to say I’m busy. So busy that I don’t have much time to take care of myself. I deserve hot water and clean clothes. I want my sheets changed whenever they get dirty. I don’t care if that means twice a night.” She stomped her foot. “I need some pampering.” She put a washcloth into the water. “Will you work for me?” Marion handed her a damp cloth.