by Alice Addy
That evening, the Six Gun was bursting at the seams with cowboys from the latest trail drive, coming through town. Frieda was busy helping Whiskey tend bar and the three saloon girls were up to their necks in rough and dusty men. The poker table had men lined up to give away their hard earned money. No one even heard Bo playing—that is—until Eve came up to sing.
She was wearing a new and rather risqué dress, or at least it was daring for Eve. She began as she always did, from the center of the stage. From the moment she opened her mouth and the first note flowed out, she had the attention of every cowboy in the place. Glasses of whiskey stopped half way enroute to dry mouths. Cards ceased to be dealt and conversations skidded to a halt. The room was hers and she played it for all it was worth. Little did she realize the passion that was building up in these ruffians. It had been weeks since they’d seen a woman, and some had never seen a beauty like the angel standing before them now.
Halfway through her sad song, Eve started to descend the stairs. This was customary, as she felt comfortable with all the men from town. However, tonight was different. She was so carried away with her song, and the joy she experienced by sharing it with an audience, that she didn’t pay attention to the fact that she didn’t know any of these men and they were an extremely rowdy bunch.
They were starved for a woman’s attentions and were drunk to boot. As they stood transfixed, watching the copper-haired beauty singing just to them, they were awestruck and salivating at the thought of possessing her. With eyes bluer than a robin’s egg and a sweet, lush body that would tempt the very angels down from heaven, their blood boiled just under the surface. More than one man was determined to pay anything to have her lie beneath him, that night.
No sooner had she stepped down onto the floor, than a big, dirty hand wrapped around her tiny waist and tried to pull her off her feet and onto his lap. She struggled and broke free, then stepped back and tried to continue with her song. Eve had almost succeeded in making her escape, back up the steps and out of reach, when a young cowpoke scooped her up, high into his arms, and howled with excitement.
“Whooee! I got the little gal. She’s mine!” He turned and plowed through the crowded room, heading for the swinging doors with Eve firmly in his grasp.
She couldn’t believe what was happening. “Help! Help me!” she screamed.
The men in the saloon were laughing and yelling so loud, that Bo hadn’t even stopped playing her music, and Whiskey and Frieda were still pouring drinks. They couldn’t hear or see what was causing all the excitement.
The young man slammed through the swinging doors just in time to meet a fist of granite in the center of his face. He immediately dropped his prize and fell to the sidewalk.
Eve was caught up by two very strong arms and swung away from the bleeding man.
“What the hell do you think you were doing, teasing and promising those men things you weren’t going to deliver? That’s a good way to get yourself raped or killed. You’ve got to be the prettiest and the dumbest damn woman I know.” Sam Garrison’s eyes shot with flames of fury, as he roughly grabbed Eve by her arms. She would soon be his woman and he didn’t like her embarrassing herself this way.
“I . . . I . . . ” Eve started to tremble. Her bottom lip began to quiver as tears threatened to overflow her eyes. “I . . .”
Sam started to cool down and he relaxed his hold. Here, was this beautiful, innocent creature, scared out of her mind, and he was yelling at her. “Oh, sugar. I’m sorry I spoke to you the way I did. It’s just that you’re always scarin’ me. You’re bound and determined to get yourself hurt. Am I gonna have to marry you to keep you safe?” He tipped her face up to look at him and he smiled one of his best smiles, just for her.
Her eyes were drawn into the depths of his dark gaze and she found she couldn’t catch her breath. His face drew nearer, inhaling her scent, his mouth slightly brushing over her lips.
Eve shut her eyes and puckered up, waiting . . .but the big kiss never came. She opened her eyes and saw he was smiling at her with perfect white teeth and eyes twinkling with amusement.
“You wantin’ me to kiss you, Miss Eve?”
Eve stiffened her spine and demanded to be put down. “No, sir. What gave you that silly notion? You’re much too old for me.”
She stepped back and turned away from the gambler. As she regained her senses, she flounced off to the private entrance, around the side of the building, and ran up the stairs, locking all the doors behind her. Unbelievably, she could hear Sam still laughing at her, as she ran away, and it infuriated her.
That night, Eve dreamed of Sam Garrison, again. She dreamed he was tied to the piano and she was beating him with a feather duster. The dust was making him cough to the point of being sick, but she kept beating him. After he complained that the dust had dirtied his fine clothes, she threw the spittoon on him. “Now you’re dirty!” She laughed and laughed. But there was one problem. Throughout the entire dream, even after being covered in tobacco juice, he was still just as handsome as ever.
The next day at lunch, Eve was surprised that no one made mention of her near abduction, the evening before. Surely her Aunt Frieda was going to scold her, but no. Nothing was said. She breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing Eve wanted was for everyone to know how Mr. Sam Garrison had to save her from her own foolishness. She had learned her lesson well. Never again would she leave the stage when the saloon was crammed full of steer busters. Stuffing her mouth with a hot biscuit, dripping with butter, she smiled to herself . . . then Sam strode into the kitchen, scowling directly at her.
“Excuse me, ladies.” He tipped his hat. “I want to say a few things about last evenin’, if you don’t mind.”
Eve almost choked with the need to interrupt him before he spoiled everything. “That won’t be necessary, Sam,” she mumbled, spewing biscuit crumbs over the entire table. She was mortified at the mess she had created and tried to cover her mouth.
“I am sooo sorry, everyone. P-please forgive me,” she stammered, as she attempted to wipe the crumbs off the table and onto Frieda’s spotless floor.
“It isn’t necessary for you to say anything at all, Sam. As you can see, we’re all doing just fine. Now, go away!” she shouted.
The man paused for a moment and then grinned at her, recognizing her ploy to keep things from her aunt. “I believe it is most important, dear, that your aunt be apprised of the situation in which you found yourself last night. It can’t be allowed to happen again. I worry about you.”
Eve rolled her eyes in disbelief. Oh, God, he was going to flap his jaws and get her into real trouble. She looked around the table at the four inquisitive faces, all turned toward Sam.
“Mrs. Birdsong, Miss Eve shouldn’t be allowed to leave the stage when the house is full of ruffians, as it was last evenin’. I do not believe you are aware of the fact, that she was abducted by a cowboy and taken outside. If it hadn’t been for me, I shudder to think what would have happened to her. As you may have noticed, Eve and I are on the brink of something beautiful and, naturally, I worry for her welfare. In the future, I suggest she be more prudent about her choice of material for entertaining the crowd. I’d also like to see her be more modestly attired. She is so lovely that any man may find himself at risk of losing control, just from gazing upon her beauty. If I’m out of line in my concern, please feel free to tell me, but I believe it would be wise to limit her performances to once an evening. Does she really need to perform at all? Perhaps it would be prudent if she found lodgings in a more respectable location.” Glancing at the astonished expressions, Sam thought he’d said enough for now. He’d leave them with his recommendations.
“Good day, ladies.” He gave a small bow and disappeared through the door, leaving all the women in a state of shock.
Suddenly, they all started to speak at once—everyone, that is, with the exception of Eve. All the comments and questions were being directed at her, and all she wanted to do was disappear.<
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“When did you start sneakin’ off to see Sam?” Lisette screamed angrily.
“Has he told you he loves you?” inquired a dreamy-eyed Laurie.
Meredith laughed. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
“Ladies, if you’re finished with your lunch, I’d like to have a word with Eve, in private.” Frieda stated sternly.
She waited for the room to clear before speaking. “Eve, you gotta tell me everythin’. Even though I don’t entirely approve of Mr. Garrison, he’s correct about your needin’ to be more careful. You have no idea how extraordinary you are and with that, comes the need for added responsibility. He’s right about some men not being able to control their natural urges ‘round you, when in your company. Whiskey and me will be more vigilant when the saloon’s crowded, but I think there’s no need for you to change your songs or your costumes. They’re good and proper. And you may keep to singing twice nightly. Sam’s just becomin’ a little too possessive of you, and that’s a whole other kettle of fish. How long have the two of you been sweet on each other?” Her eyes were filled with concern.
“Oh, no, Auntie. He’s wrong. I’ve never thought of him in that way . . . not really.”
“Has he kissed you?”
“Not exactly. He kind of sniffed and smelled a bit—stupid things like that. He did tell me he wanted to get to know me better. Are you saying he’s in love with me?” Eve couldn’t believe it. He was very handsome, but she’d come to realize he was too old for her. He’d seen too much in his life, and he sort of scared her. Surely he couldn’t be interested in plain old her.
“I’m sayin’ you need to be on your guard when around that handsome devil. He’s worldly and I don’t think he’s the man for you. You let Whiskey or me know if he should try somethin’, or if he gets too friendly. You promise?”
“Yes, Auntie. If you say I shouldn’t see him alone, I won’t. He sure is good-looking, though.”
“That is his cross to bear. It don’t make him a good and decent person, Eve. I’ve been watchin’ him and I’m not sure how long I’m willin’ to keep him on. He’s strong willed and smart as a fox.”
Eve’s eyes grew wide with recognition. “Sometimes I think he means to steal me away. I don’t have to move out of the Six Gun, do I, Aunt Frieda? I’d simply hate that.”
“Don’t you worry none about that. This will always be your home, darlin’. Long after I’m gone, this place and the land on which it stands, is all yours. It’s all I have to give you.” Tears filled the woman’s tired eyes as she reached out for her child.
CHAPTER THREE
Eve knew she shouldn’t encourage Sam’s attentions, but no matter how she tried to avoid him, he never gave up. The minute she entered the room, his gaze found hers, and he would smile that slow grin that caused her to go weak in the knees. He insisted she stand next to him while he played cards. She brought him luck, he said. She hesitated at first, but she couldn’t think of a good reason not to spend time with the handsome gambler. Sam never stepped out of line. He was always the perfect gentleman with her.
Maybe she and her Aunt Frieda had been too hasty in their judgment of the gambler? True, he had a quick and fierce temper while playing cards and accepted no excuses from the men suffering huge losses. It was rumored that he even killed a man for not paying his debts. Dangerous, he was, but he was also the most handsome and exciting man in town.
Tossing caution to the wind, Eve decided to have a little fun. She was, after all, twenty years of age, and that was old enough to make decisions for herself.
“Sam, would you like to escort me to the riverside this Sunday after church? I could pack us a basket with all of your favorite things,” Eve blurted out. She was nervous asking him to go with her, but she wanted to seize the opportunity to show him she had a mind of her own and could do as she pleased.
He was silent, but he smiled.
Eve couldn’t read his thoughts, so she continued on. “It’s very pretty there, and we could talk about . . . things.” Her cheeks turned scarlet. She was not used to being so direct with a man.
Sam started to chuckle. “Does your auntie know you’re willin’ to spend time with the devil?” His lips turned up at the corners in a rueful smile, but there was a blackness behind his eyes that made Eve nervous. For a moment, he didn’t simply look dangerously handsome; he actually looked dangerous.
Eve had second thoughts about her ill-conceived invitation, thinking it might have been a stupid mistake to ask. “Oh, never mind,” she said offhandedly. “I’d rather go riding by myself. See you around, Sam.” Seeking to put as much space as possible, between her and the gambler, she spun around and practically ran out of the room.
Sam sat back, stroking his black mustache and grinning broadly. “Gotcha,” he muttered to himself.
It was time to start formulating his plan and setting the stage. He wanted the Six Gun, and the girl would help him get it. She’d be an added bonus to the most successful saloon in town. Sam hated to admit it; but he liked her enough to keep her around—at least for a while. He wouldn’t, however, allow her to stand in the way of his becoming a very rich man and being able to leave this god-forsaken country behind him, forever.
*
Ty Fenton brought the big wagon to a halt in front of the feed store. It had been months since he’d last been to town and his shopping list was long. He was not happy that it would take most of the day to fill his parent’s order. Since it was going to take hours, he decided to unhitch the team and rest them at the livery. Ty believed in taking care of the stock before seeing to his own needs. He gave a list to the proprietor of the Feed and Grain, and then walked over to the mercantile and presented them with an even longer list. Ma needed a bit of everything, it seemed. Later, he went in search of something to eat and something to relieve his boredom.
The Six Gun Saloon seemed to fit the bill. It was a wholesome environment—as far as saloons went—and better than most to pass the time. He’d promised his ma that he wouldn’t visit one of the ‘drinkin’ saloons. The Six Gun was known for serving up really good steaks and providing lively music. As Ty stepped through the swinging doors, the overwhelming smell of whiskey, grilled steaks, and sweet perfume filled his lungs. He chose to ignore the sweaty stench coming from most of the cowboys. Against the far wall, the piano could be heard, lightly tinkling out a sad tune about a cowboy and his horse.
Ty chose a table in front of the vacant stage, as it was more isolated from the crowd. He had no interest in starting up a conversation with anyone. He pulled his hat down low over his eyes and stared at his folded hands. At the moment, food was the only thing on his mind.
It wasn’t obvious, at first, that the piano player had changed his tune and the melody was becoming louder and livelier. As Ty raised his eyes, he was shocked to see a pair of dainty legs standing on the stage, directly before him. His eyes followed them up . . . up . . . and up higher still, over curvy hips and a tiny waist, past soft plump breasts tastefully concealed behind a thin piece of silk, and on up until they rested on the most beautiful and perfect face he had ever seen. She couldn’t stand more than five feet tall, he thought, but her legs seemed to go on forever. This vision had a heart-shaped face and the most beautiful cornflower blue eyes he’d ever seen. Her lips were moist, so very kissable, and her hair was beyond description. The thick curls cascading over one creamy shoulder, were the color of a new penny and just as shiny. Ty had to swallow. He had difficulty taking it all in. He wasn’t completely certain he was still breathing.
He noticed all this before she started to sing. After she struck the first note, he was lost forever. Never in his life had he been so swept away by such pure emotion. His life would never be the same. His eyes teared up simply from gazing upon this heavenly creature. He had to meet her or die. Ty gasped, totally incapable of speech. Meeting her seemed more important than air. He didn’t notice his steak had arrived, sizzling on the plate.
Eve noticed the young cowb
oy, as soon as she came out on stage. He had such an open and friendly face. She liked him instantly and decided to sing her song just to him. The more she sang, the more he looked as if he was going to die from the sheer pleasure of it, and that pleased her, immensely.
Eve enjoyed giving satisfaction to the customers through her singing and dancing. After all, she had worked hard for many years, and had practiced everyday to be as good as she could be.
With her song’s conclusion, she stepped down off the stage and walked directly to the young man’s table. “May I join you?”
Ty couldn’t get his mouth to work properly, so he just nodded, as if he had no sense at all. He wanted to impress the lovely young lady, but he was too overcome by her beauty to even introduce himself.
Eve smiled. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in here before. What’s your name?”
He had to clear his throat before he could answer. “Ty,” he croaked.
“Ty? Is that short for something?” she asked, trying to get him to converse.
He nodded, and then just sat there, staring down at his cold steak.
Eve offered her hand to him, “Well, just Ty, my name is just Eve—not short for anything—and I am glad to make your acquaintance.”
He rubbed his sweaty hand on his jeans before taking her dainty hand in his own. Once he felt the softness of her skin, he loathed letting go. She didn’t seem to mind, as she let her hand rest quite comfortably in his.
“Fenton,” he shouted, out of the blue.
“What?” This man had a way of surprising Eve. He was so different from the slick Sam, who always knew the proper thing to say. Eve giggled like a schoolgirl. She found him refreshing. “Oh, I see. You’re Ty Fenton?”
Once again, he nodded.
“I like you, Mr. Fenton. I hope you’ll come by and see me often.”
“Not too often,” a deep voice growled from just behind Eve’s chair. “I’d appreciate you releasin’ my fiancé’s hand, cowboy.”
