Chapter 5
It seemed like it took forever for the place to clear out even after Katrina had stopped singing. He wanted to talk to her. He needed to talk to her. She hadn’t met his eyes since she had walked off the dance floor. He needed to know what that meant. He needed to see it in her eyes. Finally when the last person was ushered out he drew a deep breath and… completely lost his nerve. She was cleaning up so he followed suit. He began putting up the chairs. He was just about finished when he heard the creak of one of the doors. He looked up and saw a man standing just inside the entrance.
“Sorry buddy we’re…”
“Matt.” She cut him off. He looked at her, she had her hand up to stop him from speaking but her eyes were on the man who had just entered. He was young they were about the same age. The man had dark brown hair and enough beard growth to indicate that he hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time.
“Come on in Jonathan,” she said quietly. He walked the rest of the way in but he didn’t walk to Rose, he walked to a table in front of the stage and sat down. Rose picked up a bottle of whiskey and a glass off the shelf and followed the man to the table. Matt told himself he should leave and give them some privacy. But‘himself’ wasn’t listening. He picked up the broom and began to sweep instead.
“It’s been a long time.” Rose spoke softly as she poured the brown liquid into the glass.
“You look good Rosy. How’ve you been?”
“I am well.”
“Did Trina sing?”
“Yes. Would you like me to tell her you’re here?”
“No,” he said quickly. He downed the whiskey in the glass.“How is she?”
“Do you want the truth or are you here to ease your conscience?” Her words were soft and even but they even made Matt flinch and he had no idea what was going on.
“What do want me to say Rose? That I am sorry? It won’t change anything, I can’t take it back.”
“No Jonathan, I don’t want you to say you’re sorry. I just want you to see that you’re not the only one who hurts. You’re not the only one who lost her, not the only one who misses her.” The man reached out and touched Rose’s cheek and Matt felt his chest tighten.
“Rosy… you look ridiculous as a blond,” he said softly and she laughed. “Is Izzy still around?”
“Yeah he is the same as always.”
“How is the umm… Do you still…?”
“Yes. Clay is good. Would you like to see him?”
“No,” he said forcefully and Rose leaned back in her chair. They were quiet for a few moments. Then Rose stood and walked to the stage and picked up a guitar off its stand.
“Will you play for me?”
“I can’t play anymore. I lost the gift.”
“You can’t lose a gift.” She sat down beside him again still holding the guitar.
“I disagree, I lost several at once.” He stood up he reached out and touched her face one more time.“Take care of yourself kid.” Rose closed her eyes she heard him walk away as the tears slipped out from under her lids.
“You need another handkerchief?” She opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
“No.”
“Are you sure? I have a dozen.” She laughed at that. She pulled the one he had already given her from her sleeve and waved it at him. He smiled and sat down in the recently vacated chair.
“You want to talk about it?”
“You don’t want to hear it. It’s a long sad story.”
“Most of them are.” He encouraged but she just sat there. Finally she took a deep breath and stared at the vacant stage.
“There used to be three of them. Katrina and Pamela would sing and Jonathan played for them. They were good, so good it made your chest ache just to listen to them. Pam and I were friends the moment I met her it was… preordained.” She half laughed and wiped away a tear. Jonathan is or was Pam’s brother. They were… the only family I had.” She dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief as more tears escaped. Jonathan and Katrina were in love, as in love as two people could be. Then…” She hesitated and he saw her swallow as the memory played in her eyes. “Jonathan and Pam had a fight, a falling out I guess you could say. Then she died.” More tears ran out of her eyes but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. “He wouldn’t have stayed mad and she wasn’t mad at him… but they never had a chance to make up. She died and everything fell apart. It was like a three legged stool missing a leg. Jonathan was so guilt ridden he blamed himself for Pam’s death and he left. He broke Katrina’s heart. She has never been the same. None of us have ever been the same.” Her voice faded to a whisper and Matt ached for her. He ached for the pain she was feeling because he knew it all too well. He reached out and picked up the guitar she had left against the table. He began to strum the strings with his thumb. After a moment his fingers found the chords and began to form the sound of a recognizable tune. Rose leaned on the table and propped her head up with her hand. When he finished the song he looked up and found her eyes on him.
“That was beautiful. I didn’t know you played.”
“It’s been a long time, another life.”
“Yeah another life,” she sighed. She stood up and picked up the bottle and glass and carried them back to the bar.
“Rose.” She turned and was surprised to find him right behind her. He held his hand out to her. She looked at it and put hers in his. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. She wrapped her arms up and gripped his shoulders tightly.
Matt could hear her coughing in the darkness. He could tell she was trying to muffle it but she was coughing. He smirked to himself and wondered if she would admit that she was sick now. He doubted it.
When dawn came she still looked exhausted. He didn’t say anything this time. Not after the way she had misconstrued it the last time he said she looked tired. Dixie however didn’t have the same fear.
“You look terrible Darlin. Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”
“Not much,” Rose responded and then coughed as a punctuation.
“Oh Darlin, you are sick. You should be in bed.”
“I already told her that.” Matt said into his coffee cup.
“Oh honey, I meant that she needs to sleep. Not what you have in mind.” Matt laughed at that but Rose didn’t appear to appreciate the reference.
“Dixie!”
“You know what you need is a shot of Kentucky Whiskey.” She said ignoring Rose’s outrage.
“How is that going to help?”
“It will kill that cough.”
“It will?”
“Well it always works for me.” Dixie said as she walked out of the room.
He had to admire her determination even if he didn’t see the need for it. She continued with her routine as if she was as right as rain. Even when she was interrupted with bouts of coughing. He was just about to make another attempt to talk her into going back to bed when someone came in from outside.
“Rose.”
“Hi Marvin.”
“Have you been outside?”
“No why?”
“You better come and take a look.” Rose followed the man outside and Matt followed her. Rose gasped when she saw it. It was the word Whore scrawled across the front of the building in red paint.
Rose stood there feeling a little dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine who would do such a thing. Matt grasped her shoulder and turned her marching her back inside.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“I will take care of this. You just do what you normally do.” She looked up at him prepared to argue but simply nodded instead.
Matt was angry as he attempted to scrub the paint off the front of the building. It wasn’t going to come off. Not all of it.
“Good morningMr. Anderson.”
“Good morning Mr. McGregor. Do you happen to have any paint?”
“Sure, there are some cans back there.” He pointed toward the back corner of the store and Matt starte
d that direction.“What’s the matter, you didn’t have enough for the door?” Matt stopped dead and turned back.
“What did you say?”
“I said wasn’t the can Mr. Madison bought enough for the door?”
“Sure it was, we just had some more things to paint.” Matt covered.“Red right?”
“Yeah, there are a few more back there I think.” Matt clenched his teeth and went to inspect the paint.
He bought the red paint, his only other option was white and the letters would have shown through. When he returned to the Saloon he immediately walked around looking for a red door. Sure enough the back door was freshly painted red. On the ground beside the door was the paint can and a brush. Anyone could have used it. He couldn’t prove Izzy had anything to do with it but still it didn’t sit right. The older man had barely been around at all in the last two days. He wasn’t sure if that was out of character or not but it didn’t seem right.
“Rose, you got a minute.” Rose looked up and saw Matt framed in the doorway.
“Sure.” She took her apron off and tossed it on the bar as she walked out. She followed him all the way out into the road before he turned back. She turned too and immediately gasped at the sight. The whole front of the building was red.“Oh Matt, it’s beautiful!”
“I still need to do the top. I’ll have to do that tomorrow,” he said absently picking dried paint off his fingers.
“Look how much it stands out from the other buildings.” She grinned.
Rose felt terrible. She couldn’t stop coughing and when she coughed it made her head pound. She eyed the whiskey bottle as she set up for the evening. Deciding it was worth a try she grabbed the bottle and poured a shot.
Matt watched her as people started arriving. She didn’t look good. She looked nearly dead on her feet. He caught Dixie as she passed by.
“Is there someone who can take over for her?”
“Sure hun, I can do it if you can convince her to go lie down.” Of course anytime he broached the subject with her she shut him down immediately. She was still coughing and occasionally sneezing but she soldiered on.
Matt split his time between walking the room and watching Rose. Izzy was once again absent so Matt felt obligated to circulate and make sure no one was causing trouble. The Cannon boys were back tonight with a couple more people but they weren’t causing problems. Walt Porter wasn’t there, apparently having gotten what he needed the night before. The pinstripe suit guy was back tonight only his suit was charcoal gray.
His main concern was Rose, he had already seen her take several shots of whiskey and despite the fact that she seemed to have a high tolerance to whatever was in the flask the Whiskey was really affecting her. She was giggling and giddy as she talked to the customers and her eyes were glassy.
“Thought you said one was your limit,” he said when she came close.
“Listen, no cough. It’s helping,” she said and grinned. While she was coughing less it certainly hadn’t cured the cough only masked it. So he brooded and tried not to look as annoyed as he was while the cowboys took advantage of her carefree state. One in particular kept reaching out and touching her when she was serving him. She didn’t bat him away she just laughed. The man even talked her into another shot. Matt wished that he could throw him out just for the sake of doing it but he knew that would just make him appear jealous so his stayed rooted to his spot. He stayed away right up until Katrina started to sing and the man invited Rose to dance. He waved Dixie to the bar and positioned himself to intercept them as they came off the dance floor. The man still had his arm around her waist but he wasn’t leading her back to the bar he was leading her to the stairs.
“You’re going the wrong way,” he said simply.
“Hi Matt,” shegrinned,“This is…” She looked at the man and frowned,“What did you say your name was? He has something to show me,” she said proudly looking at Matt again.
“I’ll bet he does.” Matt glared at the man.“Why don’t you come with me?”
“Why?” she asked, immediately stepping away from the other man.
“Because he can’t afford you sweetheart.” He put his hand on her waist to move her farther away.
“That’s right you can’t!” she said to the other man in an awed tone as if just remembering.
“Hey wait just a minute…” The man began but Matt silenced him with a finger in his face.
“I will break you.” he warned,letting his barely restrained temper show through. Apparently that was warning enough for the man because he reluctantly backed off. Matt put his arm around Rose’s waist and gently but firmly led her to the hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I think you should lie down.”
“Oh.” He led her into her room and followed her in. She heard the door close and turned back.
“Lock the door,” she said forcefully.
“Don’t worry no one is coming through the door.”
“Never go to sleep with an unlocked door,” she insisted, “Lock the door.”
“Alright, I got it.” He turned and flipped the deadbolt. She visibly relaxed then she even smiled at him. She reached up to pull the pins from her wig but when she didn’t get it after the third try she looked at her fingers and frowned at them.
“What’s wrong with my fingers?” she asked and he had to laugh.
“Here let me.” He stepped forward and pulled all the pins then lifted the wig off her head. He turned and put it on the wig stand and she pulled the net off and shook her head violently.
“Whoa.” She weaved unsteadily and he put his hand on her waist to steady her.
“Easy. Your balance isn’t what it should be.” He laughed. She looked up at him between chunks of dark curly hair. She weaved toward him and he felt her grip the front of his shirt.
“He said I was beautiful,” she said softly. He lifted one lock of unruly hair from in front of her eye and tucked it back.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered, her eyes were wide and guileless. He could see the deep blue behind the smoke screen. He bent and covered her mouth with his. She was more intoxicating to him than the whiskey was to her. She twined her arms around his neck and leaned against him. He held her tightly against him. He parted his lips and hesitated just a second until she parted hers pushing against him. His restraint failed him and he plunged his tongue into her mouth. He slid his hands up into her hair burying his fingers in the curls. It was even softer then he’d imagined it would be. He felt her unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt and every bit of chivalry he possessed screamed at him to stop. It was just enough to cause him to break from her lips, not enough to cause him to move away completely. He kissed down her jaw line to her neck and buried his face in her hair.
“Rose, you said I couldn’t afford you.” He whispered, hoping it would bring her to he senses since he didn’t seem to have the willpower.
“I know,” She sighed.“No one can, no one can give me what I want. But it doesn’t matter.” In that moment he would’ve done whatever it took to give her what she wanted. He lifted his head so he could see her face.
“What do you want?” She wasn’t looking at him she was concentrating on opening the buttons on his shirt with her clumsy fingers.
“A new life,” she said simply, “A real home, somewhere where I don’t have to be afraid. Don’t have to sleep behind a locked door.” She moved forward and kissed his chest and he could feel her breath on his skin.
“What are you afraid of?” He asked feeling a fierce desire to protect her from the rest of the world.
“He’s coming for me, one day he will find me.”
“Who?” his arms tightened around her reflexively.
“Orin Kline.”
“Orin Kline is dead.”
“No he isn’t.” She was still kissing his chest but her words were like icy river water down back.
“Why is he looking for you?” She finally looked up at him and smi
led. She grasped the edges of his collar and pulled him down capturing his mouth with hers. He kissed her back but he was fully aware now, he didn’t let himself slip into the drowsy haze of passion. He eased her back until he could sit her down on the edge of the bed. “You forgot your shoes. Here let me…” He pushed her back gently until she was lying on the bed. He pulled her shoes off and began rubbing her feet the way she always did. After a moment she was asleep. He moved her all the way up onto the bed and covered her up.
Matt sat down on the sofa and took a deep breath. Orin Kline was bad news, real bad news even in the scope of the bad news he dealt with on a regular basis. Orin Kline was his own class of criminal, the kind that was so sadistic it made you wonder if he’d been spawned by Satan himself. That’s what made him legendary, that’s why Matt knew the name despite the fact that he was supposed to have been killed five years ago. Most of his offences had taken place elsewhere so the Rangers didn’t have any encounters with him until the encounter that led to his death. He left a trail of bodies across the southern states. The stories were that he had gotten a taste for blood in the war but Matt didn’t believe that. Someone with that many killings to their credit was born with a taste for blood. The war had only given him an excuse to hone his skills.
The question was how had Rose gotten mixed up with him? Had she simply been unfortunate enough to cross his path? Or was the connection deeper than that? What would cause her to be so certain that he was looking for her? Coming for her? Had she been a mistress? He was quite a bit older than her, and he had supposedly died five years before so that would make her even younger. It was possible but it just didn’t sit quite right in his gut. He hadn’t really left too many witnesses but he hadn’t been concerned with concealing his identity either. He was proud of what he did. It was his craft. He probably wasn’t likely to pursue a witness after he was supposed to be dead. No if he was really looking for her it was because of a significant connection and possibly because of the fact that she knew he was alive.
So what did this mean for him? Was it related at all to Benji’s death? Had Benji seen something? Recognized someone? Benji had been a Ranger a few years longer than he had he might have known something. Matt reached into his pocket and withdrew the small notepad he kept all his notes in. He’d made notes on all of the people who had entered into the investigation. He had one page alone just on the girls. He looked at his list of potential suspects. Rose was there, though he was tempted to cross her off. If you couldn’t stand the sight of blood then you couldn’t cut someone’s throat, but it was also possible she had faked her blood aversion. If she had, she was very convincing but the potential was there. He was also worried his judgment was being swayed by his personal feelings so he left her there on principle. Izzy was on there as well. The coincidental paint purchase actually moved him up on the list a bit. He couldn’t prove that Izzy had anything to do with the graffiti but it was a mark against him anyway.
Whiskey Rose (Fallen) Page 5
