by Alice Addy
Sam was not one to be put off. He smiled, sincerely. He was used to receiving a chilly reception here, in the Midwest, but he managed to turn them to his side, eventually. There were good gamblers and bad gamblers. Sam Garrison was a great gambler and he liked it here.
A woman’s frosty voice addressed him from the top of the stairs. “How can I help you, sir? I own his establishment—such that it is.”
Whiskey spoke first. “He’s a gambler, Frieda. I told him we don’t hold to gamblin’ here.”
She looked at the good-looking stranger. She could tell he was a dangerous man in more ways than one. “I’m afraid my bartender is correct. We don’t need your services at the Six Gun. Try on down the street. They run tables, there.” She turned to leave, when Eve spoke up.
“Maybe we could try him out, Aunt Frieda. If he didn’t bring in the business, then he’d have to leave.” Her cornflower blue eyes looked hopeful.
Frieda knew she should give the handsome bum the rush, but how could she say no to Eve? The girl never asked for anything for herself, and Frieda knew that the lovely young woman had been lonesome ever since old Pete died at the grand old age of sixteen—or there about.
“All right. It’s against my better judgment, but I’ll give you a try. You just make sure you run an honest game. I’ll not have the good people I’ve got comin’ in here, cheated. We clear?”
The gambler removed his Stetson and turned on the charm. He smiled at the lady, raising one eyebrow. His teeth were brilliantly white and even. Frieda knew he would be trouble. No man should be that devilishly attractive.
Sam needed to go and collect his things from the livery. It was decided that he could rent a small room in the back of the saloon, under the stairs, if he was amenable. While he was gone, both Whiskey and Frieda warned Eve about the gambler.
“I know, I know,” Eve complained. “You don’t have to worry. He’s not interested in me, anyway. I’m not sophisticated enough for a man like him. I’m sure he’ll be looking for someone like Lisette or Meredith—not plain old Eve.” The girl had no idea how beautiful she was, and that could be dangerous.
*
News travels fast in a small town, and the Six Gun was filled to the rafters with men trying to get a look at the new gambler hoping to set up business. They all knew Miss Birdsong didn’t approve of gambling, so this was a surprise . . . albeit, a very pleasant one. Most of the men in Hays City appreciated the lovely and talented Eve Birdsong. She was a feast for all their senses—but one. They had a yearning for cards, too. Now, they could play poker and enjoy looking at her, all at the same time. It never occurred to them that the combination of the two might make for a lot of losing hands.
The handsome gambler was serious about his chosen occupation. He intended to get very rich and leave these dirty and dusty towns far behind him. He wanted to go to Chicago, Boston, and New York. Hell, he might go see the Queen of England. For now, he’d have to concentrate on making the most of what was available here, in this rustic little Kansas town. If he only owned this saloon, he could fleece the cowboys and make more money than he could spend.
He smiled. “All in time,” he muttered to himself.
Sam took it easy on the locals, his first night. He bet light, trying not to break the bank. It was necessary to build confidence in the men so they’d be willing to take bigger risks. This was all part of his plan. Lure them in, and then, when they least expected it, he’d pounce on them. His lips curled up, just at the thought of playing the game. As he dealt the next hand, Sam became aware of the silence slowly overtaking the boisterous bar.
“What’s goin’ on, fellas? Sure got quiet in here.”
Ben Penburthy grinned, “Oh, you’re in fer a real treat, Sam. We got us the sweetest, purtiest little songbird west of the Missouri. Eve’s ever’body’s darlin’. You’ll like her, I swear.”
Sam snorted. These farmers had never seen a real woman. He’d been to New Orleans and had known some beautiful ladies, intimately. He had no interest in a homegrown singer. After placing a bet, he had to nudge the old man to his right.
“You gonna play cards or not?” Sam growled.
Just then the music grew louder and the men in the saloon started to whistle and holler. Some were on their feet in expectation. Sam heard her, before he saw her. She had a tremendous voice, rich and pure. Not even in New Orleans had he heard better. He stood up with the rest of the men, to get a better look.
It was the young woman he’d met earlier, and she was glorious. Her copper blonde hair was piled high upon her head, with curls hanging long on one side of her face. Her eyes were the bluest he could ever recall seeing. And when she smiled, she lit up the entire room with her cherry red lips and her pink dimpled cheeks. Tiny and petite, she was still all woman; her curves were lush enough to make a grown man ache with yearning. This unsuspecting, golden goddess stole Sam’s breath away.
“My God,” he muttered. Never in his life had he wanted a woman with such a primal urgency. His loins caught fire and he cursed it. This didn’t make for a profitable turn of the cards. Where had she come from?
“You’re the sweetest rose that heaven ever grew . . . How could I ever love another…”
Eve sang her heart out, that evening, and the men were appreciative of her efforts. They paid her back with their riotous applause. The noise was deafening.
She was always so happy to perform for her friends, and that’s how she thought of these men. Outside of the Six Gun, they would tip their hats to her and smile. Even their wives and mothers liked Eve. They would nod and smile cordially at her, as well.
Later that evening, Eve decided to dance. She didn’t dance every night, but tonight she felt electrically charged. Something was in the air and she had to kick up her heels or burst.
Once again, the men were on their feet, hootin’ and hollerin’. The piano grew loud and fast. It was a roaring good tune and Eve took to the stage, sashaying and kicking high into the air. She twirled and twisted and teased the men for a long time, until Bo’s fingers could not play another chord, and he was forced to bring the song to a conclusion.
Cheers erupted from the crowd; hats flew through the air. Eve thanked her enthusiastic audience and, like always, she retired to her room for the rest of the night. It was understood by all, that Eve sang and danced . . . and nothing else. The big man behind the bar strictly enforced this policy.
The latch fell in the door, safely protecting the innocence of Miss Eve Birdsong. However, this night, she wasn’t the least bit tired . . . in fact, she felt just the opposite. There was nothing she enjoyed more than singing and dancing for people. It had been such a long and painful struggle to regain full use of her foot and leg that she never took the ability to dance for granted. She had overcome a lot, in her short life, and she was immensely grateful to her Aunt Frieda for all her love, guidance, and encouragement.
Eve barely remembered her life before the orphan train. She could close her eyes and see the beautiful face of her mother, smiling—always smiling. They played games, just the two of them, for she had no friends her own age.
As she stood in front of the tall looking glass, her blue eyes misted over. “Oh, Mama. I wish you could see me now. I’m so happy, but I miss you and Papa very much,” she quietly whispered. She couldn’t remember her papa’s face and that bothered her, but she still recalled his voice. It made her smile to listen for it, in the silent darkness, after the saloon shut its doors. “My Evie”, he would say to her.
“My goodness. I need to cheer up a little.” She shook herself to dispel the sad memories. “I have a good life here. I’m just not ready to turn in,” she muttered.
With that said, Eve quietly lifted the latch and descended the stairs to the main floor. She felt naughty, disobeying the rules, but she was twenty and what could happen with Whiskey behind the bar and Aunt Frieda observing?
Content to stand against the wall and drink in the rowdy atmosphere, Eve stood wide-eyed with amaze
ment at the changes in the customers she thought she knew so well. Jim Benson was drinking with one hand while his other was definitely buried somewhere up Laurie’s skirt. Lisette was hanging all over Sam Garrison, purring in his ear and nibbling his neck. How could he play cards with her tormenting him like that, Eve wondered? She made a face, not at all happy about Lisette’s possessiveness of the gambler. Meredith was dancing with old Dusty Farnsworth, and it wasn’t the proper kind of dancing she’d seen at barn dances. Meredith’s top was pulled down and Dusty was feasting. Eve groaned and looked up to see Aunt Frieda staring back at her.
It took one nod of her aunt’s head for Eve to retreat to the upper floor and the safety of her room. Her aunt had been right. She was an entertainer, not a saloon girl. Eve wasn’t totally naïve. She’d heard what went on between men and women, though she had never seen it for herself. The next time she saw Dusty or Jim Benson with their wives, she hoped she wouldn’t blush and act the fool.
As she prepared for bed, Eve kept returning to the scene at the gambler’s table. Why did it bother her so, to see Lisette cuddling up to the stranger? The saloon girl had always been nice to Eve, but Eve thought it would feel awfully good to push her off Sam’s lap and onto her round bottom. Lisette would surely run away from Sam, in tears.
She began to brush her hair, listening to it snap and crackle. It always brought comforting thoughts of her mama. Vanity was not a part of Eve, but she had to admit that her hair was her crowning glory. Shiny, golden curls cascaded down her back and settled in soft ringlets around her face. The silken locks were shot through with red-copper strands. “I wonder if Sam is partial to blondes or brunettes?” she asked herself.
Eve donned her simple, white cotton gown and, after washing her face and cleaning her teeth, she crawled into her comfortable bed. The mattress was the best they had in Saint Louis, and Aunt Frieda had it shipped to her. She owed everything she had, to Aunt Frieda—but all of a sudden and without warning, she knew she wanted something her aunt could not provide. Eve didn’t know what it was, exactly, but she knew it had something to do with dreamy, Sam Garrison.
She closed her eyes with a smile on her lips. “I wonder if his mustache tickles?
* * *
The next morning was gloriously sunny and mild, perfect for a ride. For Eve’s sixteenth birthday, Frieda and Whiskey had purchased the prettiest sorrel gelding in all of Kansas, and there was nothing she loved better than giving Ringo his head and running unfettered across the plains. It was so exhilarating to fly across the prairie grass with the wind blowing through her long hair, nipping at her cheeks. It made her feel wild and free. And today was no exception, as she whooped and hollered just outside of town. Ringo’s hooves were flying, when suddenly, another horse came out from nowhere and forced the sorrel to pull in.
“Hey, little lady. You in need of some help?” Sam Garrison rode tall in the saddle on the back of a large bay.
Eve was furious. She shook her head and tried to wave him off.
After grabbing the sorrel’s reins, Sam’s face darkened and grew serious as he proceeded to scold the young woman. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ve never seen a woman ride that fast . . . or that reckless before, unless she was in dire danger. I thought you must surely be in some kind of trouble. If you don’t mind me sayin’, it would be wise if you showed a little more caution. Your horse could go down in a gopher hole or stumble on a rock, and you’d be hurt most grievously. Hasn’t anyone told you this before? Do your guardians know you ride with such carelessness?” He looked alarmed.
Eve didn’t like being dressed down, especially by this too attractive man. Wrestling with her embarrassment, she responded curtly. “They know how I ride, sir. I attack it—like everything else in my life. Nothing has come easy to me, Mr. Garrison. I believe life is meant to be lived, for none of us know how long it will last. Don’t you agree?”
“But, Miss Birdsong, I must insist you be more careful in the future. I would be most upset if anything happened to you.”
Then Sam seemed to soften, and his voice became gentle and caring. “You see, I’ve noticed you at the saloon and I’m quite impressed by you. You’re a real lady and I would like to get to know you better. You need to stay safe . . . if only just for me.” His voice grew hoarse, as he tried to clear his throat. Sam turned his eyes away from Eve, as he felt his cheeks redden. He was uncomfortable showing his true feelings.
Eve grinned. “Well, Mr. Garrison, I do believe you’re flirting with me. However, let me assure you: I’m not your type, so you don’t need to worry about me.” She tossed her hair provocatively and smiled warmly at the man. Turning her horse, she said, “I’m leaving now, Mr. Garrison. See you back at the Six Gun.” She laughed as she dug her heels into her horse’s side, causing him to prance a bit, before finding his footing. Then, they were off, leaving Sam in a cloud of brown dust.
The gambler sat there for a minute, deciding whether to go after her or let her break her fool neck. She was important to him and his future plans. He wanted to keep her safe, but now was not the time to interfere. Smiling to himself, he knew she would be a handful—but what fun he’d have keeping her line.
At mid-morning, the women of the Six Gun, all gathered around the kitchen table. The girls, Lisette, Meredith, and Laurie had just awakened and were not looking their best. It was the same, everyday. It wasn’t unusual for them to be getting to bed just as the slightest tinge of pink lightened the eastern sky. However, this morning they were chattering like schoolgirls. Lisette was taken with Sam Garrison and she was certain that he was going to be her man.
“He’s all man, I can tell you. I could feel his hard muscles under his jacket, rippling under my fingers. And he smells so good—like a man should and so seldom does. Did I tell you that he let his fingers explore under . . .?”
“That’s just about enough of that talk, missy!” Frieda declared. “Lisette, I don’t much care what you do on your own time, but you will not come in here and talk that away in front of everyone.” She glanced significantly at Eve.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I think I’m in love—or something close to it,” she giggled. She nudged Meredith in the side and winked.
Eve couldn’t swallow a bite. She knew she didn’t care a whit about Sam Garrison, but it made her mad that a woman like Lisette would win the prize. With her elbows on the table, she growled under her breath.
“Well, my . . . my. Did the little princess get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Meredith teased. She was in a foul mood. It would be hard, but she was determined to steal the handsome gambler away from the selfish Lisette. It seemed like she always got the best and left the rest for her and Laurie. She was in no mood to listen to Eve’s troubles—as if she could have any, looking the way she did. Life was not fair.
Fiery sparks flashed from Eve’s eyes, surprising the cranky saloon gal. “Oh, shut up, Meredith. No one wants to hear anything from you. You should go back to bed and get some of that beauty sleep you obviously missed out on last night!”
Laurie and Lisette roared with laughter at the unexpected outburst from the precious Eve. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Lisette, said. “Finally the girl’s grown some gumption. Way to go, honey.”
“Eve!” The stern voice of Frieda rang out, loud and clear, over the laughter. “I didn’t raise you to be rude to others. You’ll apologize to Miss Meredith and then help me wax the chairs.”
Frieda had spoken and everyone knew that she had the final word. Eve sincerely apologized, as requested. She couldn’t remember ever being as hateful as she had been that morning.
“Please forgive me, Meredith. I honestly don’t know what got into me.”
“Think nothin’ of it, kid,” the jaded saloon gal replied, with a wry smile. “You called it right, when you said I should go back to bed. I think that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll go give these old bones a rest.” She grabbed a glass of milk and retired to her room for the rest of the afternoon.
> After the table was cleared and the women had all returned to the privacy of their rooms, to rest and get ready for the evening, Frieda asked Eve to sit.
“Sweetheart, what is it I’ve missed? For the last couple a days, you’ve been doin’ and sayin’ things that are inappropriate and not at all like you. You’re not feelin’ well or you’re unhappy about somethin’.” It was not a question.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Frieda. It’s just that, recently, I’ve felt so nervous and edgy all of the time. It’s like there’s something I should be doing or learning, that until now, I’ve had absolutely no knowledge of. I don’t know what it is that is vexing me so, but I just feel antsy.” She was embarrassed to say what was really on her mind. “I’m . . . I’m having dreams, too, Aunt Frieda. Dreams of things I can’t explain. What’s wrong with me?”
Frieda closed her eyes, thought for a moment, and then sighed long and loud. “I guess I should have known this day would come. We’ve been lucky that you were a late bloomer. The only thing wrong with you, darlin’, is that you’ve become a woman—body and mind. Every woman needs the attention of a good man to make her truly happy. I’ve got my Whiskey, and a finer man I’ve never known. You’ll find one of yer own, someday, and he’ll teach you all you’ll ever need to know about love and feeling close to another human bein’. You’re special, Eve, and he’ll be special, too. Don’t go throwin’ yerself away on a no-good, no-account bum . . . good-lookin’ or not.”
Eve was surprised by her aunt’s candor. She never discussed men or physical needs with Eve. “Do you mean to say . . . I need a man?”
Frieda laughed. “Land’s sake, child. No! I just want you to be prepared for that one special man when he comes along and makes yer heart jump right out of yer chest. It’ll be love for sure.”
“Will I know it?”
The tall woman patted Eve’s hands and smiled. She had a dreamy look in her eyes that few had ever seen. “Oh, yes, darlin’. You’ll know yer own true love when you see him. Now, let’s get to work.”
