The door opened, and Clancy glared around the room. “Should’ve guessed you were behind this, McClanahan. Where’s Victoria?”
Matt arched his brow. “Preparing herself. Amazing, how she keeps the Rose open till all hours and still has the energy to entertain two men at once.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve been sneakin’ around like a snake ever since you got to town,” the bartender snarled. “You’re the biggest phony I’ve ever—”
“Takes one to know one, they say.”
Clancy pointed his finger like a pistol. “When I tell Miss Chatterly how you pulled the wool over Hughes’s eyes, you’ll be out on your ass, McClanahan. You’re no more the manager of the Burnham—”
“Go ahead—tell her who Emily is,” Matt challenged. “I want to hear you explain how you got your job.”
The bearlike Irishman stopped in front of him, glowering. “And what do you mean by that?”
McClanahan blew a stream of smoke toward his face. “You must’ve spun some mighty convincing lies to get Emily to bring you here. You were just a common cow-poke—weren’t in charge of any people, didn’t handle any money.”
“The Rose has hauled in a helluva profit since I’ve become the manager of—” The door opened, and Clancy turned to see Victoria Chatterly’s icy glare.
“We’ll discuss your performance later, Mr. Donahue,” she said in a low voice. “Right now I want you to explain this.” The Madame held up a whip so long that it hung from her hand in several coils.
“Who gave you permission to go through my—”
“Elliott Burnham put me in charge of this house, and I intend to know what goes on here.” Victoria walked slowly toward Donahue, her genteel sway and mannerisms gone. “So tell me why you hired Zenia Collins.”
Clancy’s face registered self-righteous shock. “Do a damn nigger a favor, and she’ll stab you in the back every time. I took her off her pa’s hands—”
“Her father doesn’t run a brothel in Creede,” the Madame countered coldly. “This is your second stupid mistake, Mr. Donahue, and another of your lies. I’ve told you I don’t sell virginity here, and now I’m over a barrel because her wardrobe cost me a small fortune.”
“Where is that whorin’ little—”
“It doesn’t matter,” McClanahan interrupted pointedly. “You’ve had your hand in the till, and I’ve heard complaints about how you’re treating the other ladies, too. We’re telling you you’re on the verge of being unemployed, Mr. Donahue.”
The bartender’s eyes flashed. “You can’t prove any of that! And you can’t fire me—you’re only a—”
“I can and I will,” Matt responded coolly. “And Miss Chatterly has the same prerogative.”
Clancy smoldered with resentment; his beefy fists clenched and unclenched. “I’ll get you for this, McClanahan. You’re a goddamn—”
“I’m merely protecting Miss Burnham’s business interests, as I was hired to do.”
“—fake, and I can prove you lied to Emily and Hughes to get your job.”
McClanahan stood up very slowly. Donahue’s words rang with the dangerous desperation of a trapped animal, and this was no time to arouse Victoria Chatterly’s doubts about his credentials. “I think you’d better apologize to this lady, Mr. Donahue,” he said quietly. “Hughes had second thoughts about recommending you—and I wouldn’t have hired you in the first place—so it’s toe the line, or get the hell out.”
The Madame moved to stand beside Matt, her stance equally firm.
Clancy stalked across the boudoir and yanked the door open. “So tell me where Zenia sneaked off to. A couple gentlemen were askin’ for her—and it’s my job to keep our customers happy,” he added sarcastically.
“She’ll be back tomorrow.” Victoria winced as the door slammed. Then she poured herself some sherry from an etched decanter on her night stand. “I should never have trusted him. Had Zenia gone wailing through the parlor, the afternoon would’ve been a disaster.” She sipped from her tumbler, looking Matt in the eye. “Has Silas expressed doubts about Clancy, or did you say that for the sake of argument?”
Emily had been his inspiration during the entire conversation, so McClanahan continued with her point of view. But he sensed Victoria would soon see through their masquerades. “He’s never liked Donahue much, and when Miss Burnham heard about his thievery, she admitted to me that Clancy’s size and strength were all he had in his favor. His polish is wearing awfully thin.”
She nodded, her pale eyes wide with concern. “I have a feeling he’ll hurt Zenia—and maybe Eliza, for sheltering her. I know you’re busy, Matt, but you’d be doing me a big favor if you’d keep an eye on him. Marshal Thompson considers the Rose the most respectable house in Cripple Creek, and I’d like it to stay that way.”
McClanahan took his Stetson from the Madame’s marble-top vanity, and then kissed her cheek. “That’s what I’m here for, Victoria.”
“You’d better have some more chicken and biscuits, Miss Zenia,” Idaho insisted. “A girl can’t do her growing up on that little bit you ate.”
Zenia smiled shyly across the dining room table at the old colored man. “I can’t hold another bite,” she replied in a meek voice.
Idaho chuckled and chose a crisply-fried chicken thigh. “Bet you’ll have room for dessert, though. Nobody says no to my gooseberry pie.”
All through the meal, Emily had watched a friendship blossom between a bereaved old man and a scared young girl who had nothing in common save the color of their skin. But it was enough. Idaho’s wrinkles had turned into smiles, and he was humming when he stood to clear the table.
“Idaho won’t think I don’t like his cooking, will he?” Zenia whispered when he’d shuffled to the kitchen. “I hate to waste anything, but I just couldn’t stuff it all in. Never seen that much food all at once.”
Emily smiled. “He used to pile food onto my plate, too. It’s his way of saying he loves you.”
Nodding, the girl looked around the dining room with wide brown eyes. “I’m grateful to you for takin’ me in tonight, Miss Eliza—yet here I sit, when I should be helpin’.” She hopped up and scraped her scraps onto Emily’s plate, but Idaho took the dishes from her.
“You girls go on into the parlor. I’ll be out with that pie as soon as I clean up the kitchen.”
“But it’s only polite to—”
The old man patted Zenia’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “Miss…Eliza doesn’t have company her own age nearly often enough. You’d be doing old Idaho a big favor just talking girl-talk with her. Go on, now.”
With a grin that showed her even, white teeth, Zenia followed Emily into the parlor and settled onto the loveseat. She smoothed the skirt of a buttery-yellow dress from Emily’s closet, then stroked the arm of the loveseat. “Mr. Silas must be a wealthy man. You sure he don’t mind—”
“Relax, Zenia. He and Miss Victoria are good friends…and maybe he can convince her to let you leave the Rose.” Emily had been trying to think of a way to repay the Madame for Zenia’s expensive gowns herself, but it would seem very suspicious if Eliza the cleaning girl came up with that much money. If she could make it look like a gift from Silas…
“Oh, no, Miss Eliza. I told Miss Victoria I’d work for her and I’ll stick by it.” The girl’s coffee-colored fingers caressed the folds of her dress with a wistfulness Emily could hardly bear. “I can’t go back home now—and I couldn’t run off, knowin’ how much Miss Victoria paid for them dresses. It’s prob’ly more money than I’ll make in my lifetime.”
Emily had no doubt that an exotic beauty like Zenia Collins could repay her debt in a very short while…unless Clancy skimmed her wages. Seeing her in such a nervous state made Emily wish again that she’d never fallen for Donahue’s speech about being such a perfect bouncer—a bodyguard and protector for the ladies and herself, he’d claimed. “It’s Clancy you’re really afraid of, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.
Zenia focu
sed on the crackling flames in the fireplace. “On the way here from Leadville, he kept sayin’ he wanted me for hisself. Nearly stopped the wagon to do it, too, but I told him I had the curse.”
“You can’t use that excuse very often, or he’ll keep track,” she said with a sigh. Idaho was carrying a tray full of pie and tea things through the kitchen door, so Emily lowered her voice. “At least Victoria knows he’s threatened you, so she’ll watch him more closely”
“This talk sounds mighty serious for two pretty young girls,” the old man teased as he set the tray on the coffee table. He lowered himself onto the sofa beside Emily and lifted a generous wedge of pie onto a plate.
The reason for Zenia’s coming here had distressed Idaho, but there was no avoiding the subject completely. Emily handed the pie to her guest. “We’re trying to figure out how we can keep Zenia away from Clancy. If Victoria lets her leave, he’ll probably go after her.”
The housekeeper scratched his white-sprigged head. “You know, Miss Zenia, I was thinking while I washed the dishes, and I have some—”
Someone pounded on the front door, and Idaho’s glance darted between the two of them. “Now who could that be?”
“Maybe it’s Matt,” Emily replied as she walked to the vestibule. “Maybe he’s come to tell us about his talk with Miss Victoria.”
Zenia was fighting a grin. “He makes you a handsome beau, Miss Eliza. Sorry I barged in when I did.”
Emily felt her face redden, and then she opened the door. “Well, Josh! You’re just in time for pie!”
The pianist grinned at her, but when Josh LeFevre’s chocolate-brown eyes caressed Zenia, Emily knew dessert was the furthest thing from his mind. He settled on the loveseat beside her, taking her brown hands in his. “Miss Victoria said you were here. I was so worried—”
“It’s all right,” Zenia murmured. “Miss Eliza and Idaho’re takin’ good care of me.”
“Donahue’s been so testy I thought he might take a bite out of that mahogany bar,” he continued earnestly. “You won’t be safe if you go back there.”
Zenia lowered her eyes. “I can’t leave now, Josh. Miss Victoria’s bought them dresses—”
“She can let some other girl wear ‘em! Zenia, honey, you’re too good—too fine to be a whore.”
“I—I’ve got no money to travel on,” she replied in a wobbly whisper.
“Well, I do! We can leave now, before Clancy comes lookin’ for us,” Josh declared. “There’s hundreds of dance halls where we can play and sing.”
The idealistic ring in the young man’s voice made Emily nip her lip. Idaho had stopped dishing up pie, and he was watching the sudden drama along with her.
Zenia gazed up at Josh with brimming black eyes. “That ain’t right, now that I’ve promised—”
“Whorin’s not right!” he whispered hoarsely. “Marry me, Zenia. You stay at the Rose even a week, and you’ll lose your soul like the other ladies. I could never look at you again without blamin’ myself for lettin’ you become that redheaded bastard’s slave.”
Emily glanced nervously at Idaho, wondering if they should leave the parlor. Zenia was gripping Josh’s sleeve, looking torn between his romantic declarations and her own sense of obligation. Her bosom trembled in the snug bodice of the yellow dress, and she was blinking rapidly.
“Honey, those other ladies got nothin’ to lose, but you—you’re special,” Josh pleaded. “That voice of yours could make the hardest-hearted heathen believe. But not if you stay here.” He turned toward Emily, imploring her with large, dark eyes. “Tell her I’m right, Miss Eliza. Tell her how Clancy’ll ruin her and steal from her, just like he does from the others.”
Emily took a deep breath, stunned by the young man’s fiery eloquence. “She knows all that, Josh. I—I can’t make her say yes.”
“And I can’t sit by and watch you young folks get swallowed up by that whorehouse,” Idaho insisted. “Bad enough that Miss Eliza does honest work there. I’ve got some money laid by—”
“Oh, Idaho, you’ve already done too much,” Zenia insisted. “What if Clancy—”
“Hear me out, child.” The old man’s eyes misted over, and in a voice that sounded world-weary and defeated, he continued. “Worked most of my life on a ranch where they paid me and my wife good money. They were like family, and my Viry and I set by as much as we could so that when we got too old to work for them, we wouldn’t be a burden. We were planning to get a little place of our own and…”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. She took Idaho’s hand, appalled at how withery his skin felt and how weak his grip had become.
“I want you to have that money,” he stated, “but only if you promise to make something of yourselves.”
Josh’s lips pursed in a frown. “But you might need it, sir. You’ve still got some years left.”
Idaho waved him off. “Now that Viry’s gone to her reward, that money’s worthless to me. You think on it while I fetch my flour sack.”
Watching him shuffle toward the kitchen, Emily’s heart ached for her lifelong friend while it sang for Josh and Zenia. They were so young—a decent, comfortable living would be hard to come by, but she sensed their innate goodness and faith would carry them over the rough spots. Zenia was gazing at the gracefully-built man who pulled her into his arms, and his eyes held a longing that had been smoldering since the day she’d arrived. Emily sensed a kiss was coming, so she stood to excuse herself.
Someone else started pounding on the front door then, more forcefully than Josh had.
Emily smiled, hoping it was Matt. McClanahan would think of a solution that was fair to Miss Victoria yet would also keep Clancy at bay. And who could tell? Maybe the romance between Josh and Zenia would rub off, and Matt would admit that he loved her—words she longed to hear.
But when she opened the door, Clancy Donahue brushed her aside. “Came to fetch those niggers.”
“I don’t recall asking you in,” Emily said brusquely.
“And I don’t recall ever takin’ orders from you,” the bouncer snapped. “Now where are they?”
Emily stepped in front of him. “Zenia is not your property, Clancy,” she whispered tersely, “and this business of selling her to the highest—” Her words were pinched off by the Irishman’s grip on her shoulders.
“I could’ve broken her in myself, you know.” He looked down at her, his beard splitting in a derisive grin. “I’m tryin’ to take you away from all this sordid business, little girl, but you keep remindin’ me that I’m beneath you. I know damn well you’re sneakin’ around with McClanahan. And maybe he’s exactly what you deserve.”
She had to catch herself as Clancy shoved her out of his way. Emily followed him into the parlor, knowing how the bartender would react to the scene before them. Zenia was still in Josh’s arms, and Idaho had just returned, clutching a cloth bag.
“What’s in the sack, old man? You playin’ Santy Claus?” Donahue demanded with a mocking grin. He snatched the bag, his sarcastic expression hardening when he saw its contents. “You plannin’ to send these lovebirds on a honeymoon? The only place they’re goin’ is out to my wagon. Now get on out there.”
Josh pulled Zenia closer, his eyes defiant.
“They’re staying here until tomorrow,” Emily stated firmly
“The hell they are.” Clancy pivoted, jabbing the air with his finger. “I’ve taken all I’m goin’ to from McClanahan and Chatterly, and I don’t intend to listen to you.”
“Fine. We’ll let Silas order you out,” she replied boldly. She stalked through the dining room, her steps clattering angrily across the hardwood floor.
“He’s playin’ poker at the Elks Club,” the bartender jeered. “This is none of his business anyway.”
Emily entered the study undaunted and pulled the pistol from the top desk drawer. If she could point a gun at McClanahan, she figured shooting holes in Donahue would be no problem, if it came to that.
She returned to the
parlor with the pistol in plain sight, cocking it. “I don’t want trouble, Clancy. So leave. Now.”
Donahue backed away to position himself behind Zenia and Josh. “You could no more shoot me than—”
“I’d take her at her word, Donahue,” a voice came from the kitchen. “Because if she misses, I won’t.”
They all stared at Matt McClanahan, who was approaching them with a revolver in his hand.
Clancy bared his teeth in a vicious grin as he headed toward the vestibule. “One of these days you won’t get here in time, McClanahan,” he sneered. Then he glared at Josh and Zenia. “And if you two turn up missin’, I’ll put a price on your heads.”
Matt followed the bartender to the front door and shut it firmly behind him. Then he looked from Idaho to the couple huddling on the loveseat. “You’d better figure on returning to the Rose, at least until you’ve talked to Miss Victoria about it,” he told them quietly. Then he looked at Emily. “And now I need to see you, young lady.”
As he ushered her toward the study, Emily tried to clear the muddled emotions from her mind. She was relieved and grateful he was here, yet still angry and trembling from her confrontation with Clancy. She let Matt put her pistol back in the desk. “I—thanks for showing up when you did.”
“Figured he’d pull something like this,” McClanahan muttered. As he studied her, the glow in her amber eyes told him what he had to do. “I’m staying here tonight.”
Emily grinned impishly.
“Sleeping in the vestibule,” he added.
“Oh. Of course.”
Matt chuckled, cupping her jaw. “I still want you from this afternoon, rosebud,” he murmured, “but it’ll have to wait. Zenia and Josh aren’t really running off, are they?”
“I’m not sure,” Emily mumbled. “It came as a total surprise when Idaho offered them his life savings. And
now that Clancy knows about it, he’ll make things worse for them.”
McClanahan nodded. “He certainly won’t forgive and forget, now that Zenia’s made a liar of him.”
Colorado Captive Page 13
