by Thea Devine
And there was world-weary Lorena, of the flashing dark eyes and voluptuous body, who didn't talk much and saw everything. And she didn't like Kalida. Kalida had usurped her job for one thing, and Lorena was reduced to removing slop jars and dusting, polishing what little silver there was, and cleaning the parlor in the morning. Doing the beds was a hell of a lot easier and took up damned less time.
Lorena took great pains to let Kalida know it, too, and when Kalida offered to switch chores with her, Ellie intervened, saying she wduld not have Hal's daughter cleaning slops and that was the end of it.,.And, she added meaningfully, if Miss Rose of the South Lorena didn't like it, she was perfectly welcome to leave.
Lorena sizzled and stayed.
But even that little incident did not define for Kalida what seemed essentially wrong about her new home. Of
course the time was passing with exaggerated slowness, and her impatience increased in direct contrast. That could have been part of it. Or was it the glowing little looks that Ellie kept slanting at her, almost as if her eyes were patting her and complimenting her thorough work? No . . . Ellie never said anything, she never praised. She just expected everyone to pull together and at the end of the day create the proper setting and surroundings for her paying guests.
Other than that, their time was their own after they finished chores. They were expected in the dining room at five-thirty, freshly washed and dressed up. They had to help with setting up the table for dinner and took turns helping with the service. Kalida volunteered for this one night when it was Lorena's turn, and she relinquished her post sullenly, without at all feeling that Kalida was making it up to her. It gave Kalida the chance to view the guests without having to gird herself for dinner table conversation with them.
She put on the voluminous white apron that Bonita provided and took the soup tureen. She discovered it was not easy balancing a tray of hot soup and opening doors, nor was it easy to rest the tray at a certain point on the table and dole out the steaming liquid into the shallow plates of men whose covetous eyes were constantly on her as she worked.
There was Mr. Humas, a rather older gentleman with soft brown eyes and a ruddy complexion; there was the dashing Mr. Brackett, who was a lot younger and had dangerously sparkling blue eyes and long black hair, a devastating combination that was topped by an elegant figure and a mischievous smile; and there was Mr. Wilder, with his wind-burned face and straw-colored hair, pale ey's and somewhat emaciated body. He looked like he couldn't get enough of the food Kalida was dishing out, and she made sure to inquire if he wanted additional
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helpings, in spite of Ellie's warning looks.
Kalida ate in the kitchen, interrupting her meal to provide service, trying hard not to notice the hot eyes of the men following her every move in her dowdy gray dress, one of the original dresses Ellie had chosen for her on that original trip to Bozeman. The fateful trip where her father had signed her away, and her legacy. The trip that was predicated Deuce's desire to help—no, not to help; to dominate, totally run right over, and possess everything in his path.
And now he had everything. He had paid everyone for services rendered. The loss of her father's herd was probably meaningless to him. Her father had probably given him a good price to begin with, better than he should have in order to advance the machinations of his plot.
So that was that.
And there had been no sign from him at all in the days since she had arrived at Ellie's. Nothing was right.
After dinner, Mr. Humas engaged her in light conversation, but she had nothing to say to him either. He was a sweet older man who wanted to talk about his perpetual hunt for the gold and his adventures, and she could listen to him with one ear. If he said anything untoward, she never heard it, and she went up to bed alone at about nine o'clock, well before the others.
"That girl is a strange one," Mr. Humas said to Ellie.
"I'm breaking her in," Ellie said sweetly. "She does try to escape the reality of the situation by just avoiding it altogether, but I'm going to put my foot down about that very soon. I can see you were very taken with her."
"She's a good listener," Mr. Humas agreed, "but she didn't seem to understand about the rest."
"Mark me," Ellie told him, "she'll understand about the rest and be making overtures to you before the week is over. Meantime, let me freshen your drink, and you can
sit and tell me some of the things you have been doing while I was gone."
Mr. Humas left the next day, after patting Kalida on the cheek and murmuring so only she could hear, "Well, little gal, I expect next time you'll be ready for some honest masculine company," a remark that left Kalida's mouth agape and her cobalt gaze staring after him in perplexity. She whirled on Ellie, who had been listening avidly.
"What did he mean by that?" she demanded, but she was already afraid she knew.
And Ellie dissembled. "These men are lonely, Kalida. Isolated from women for months at a time. You really could have been nicer to him. It would hardly have required any effort at all. And so little would have satisfied him."
Kalida's gaze sharpened. "How nice?"
"Just as nice as it is within your conscience to be," Ellie said sweetly. "You'll have another chance tonight."
She allowed Kalida the rest of the day to assimilate what she had said. It was too much time, too much. Now that Kalida knew what was really expected, there was nothing to stop her from walking out the door—except the pull of contacting her father. She had no money—or had she? No friends—except Ellie. Nowhere to go, unless she had contact with her mother's family somehow in the east.
Usually such circumstances were the perfect lever to push a girl into working for her, Ellie thought, but Kalida w.cu't any girl. She had pride a mile high and an independent spirit that just begged to be broken.
That thought led her to search Kalida's room thoroughly. And with some little difficulty, she found the envelope stuffed with banknotes and counted it. Unusu-
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ally goddamned generous of Deuce, she thought grimly, tucking it away. And lucky she had found it. Damned lucky all around.
Later that evening she said to Kalida, as Kalida prepared to don the apron for the dinner service, "You know, I did tell Mr. Humas that you were only service help, but he was so attracted to your beauty. You are beautiful, you know, and men are going to want to be with you. And since I pride myself in making this rooming house a place where men feel at home, I can't have you or any of my help denying them the pleasure of your company. It's part of the . . . benefits of their choosing to stay here, and why they always come back."
I'll bet they do, Kalida thought; no wonder she had felt something was off. Ellie's generosity had been too good to be true, and now she saw why. Ellie wanted her body, and not her father's at all. Or both. She wasn't sure. She began untying the apron briskly, her cobalt eyes blazing with an odd comprehending light. "You know / don't have to choose to stay here anymore."
"No," said Ellie agreeably, "you don't have to." Her obsidian eyes positively glowered as Kalida threw off the apron and ran up the stairs. Ellie motioned to Charlotte to resume serving and she slowly followed Kalida to her room where, as she expected, the girl was ransacking her belongings searching for the money Deuce had given her.
She was so frantically involved in her search that she never heard the closing of the door or the telltale click of the tumblers.
She only knew she couldn't find the money. The envelope was gone, the money was gone, and she knew just who had taken it. There was no question.
She darted for the door and pulled it. Locked! Locked! She banged on it with all the force in her arms. "Ellie, damn you, let me out of here. Now. Who the hell do you think you are? Just give me back the money and let me
out of here."
Ellie by that time was back at the table, but it soon became obvious that Kalida was not going to tire of shouting and ra
pping on the door, and it was beginning to interfere with a pleasant evening's meal with two more-than-passingly-attractive gentlemen. She pushed herself away from the table, murmuring, "Excuse me, gentlemen; my recalcitrant daughter. So hard to keep these youngsters in line. If I ever told you what she had been planning to do ..."
She took her time going up the stairs, trying to plan exactly what to say to Kalida to insure her cooperation. She supposed, given all the options, she had no choice but to make her feel trapped and, subsequently, obligated. She hated to do things in quite that way, but she would. She would do what she had to in order to wreak her revenge on Kalida.
Kalida's rage had continued unabated, along with a spew of curses and threats. Impatiently, Ellie banged back on her side of the door. "For God's sake, Kalida, what do you want?"
"My money," Kalida growled. And my freedom, and never to see your blighted lying face again. And never to ever find my father.
"I know nothing about any money," Ellie said smoothly.
"Then let me out of here."
"I can't do that, Kalida; you haven't shown your willingness to be cooperative. It will be easier for me to have you entertain my guests in your room." And wouldn't it be delightful, she thought, to pay Kalida's percentage-little as it would be—from Deuce's money.
"I am not going to entertain anybody," Kalida shouted, feeling cornered and helpless. She ran violently around the room, looking for something to threaten Ellie with. "I'll jump out the window before I do that."
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"Oh my dear, you can't. Unless you break the window altogether. It's bolted and screened from the outside," Ellie said helpfully. "You know this is the room I give all my skittish and reluctant girls. It really helps them come to realize that my way is best. You have nothing to lose by helping me and my poor woman-hungry guests, and everything to gain. They have a lot of money, Kaiida. And they like a lot of discretion and a guarantee that things will remain relatively the same from one visit to the next. They like knowing I take care of my help. They pay big for that, Kaiida, and when you begin to enjoy your work, / pay big. That's what I want you to think about tonight, Kaiida. There isn't much else you can do. Jobs aren't that easy to come by for a girl who has been immured on a ranch for the last seven or eight years. You can't round up cattle down the main street here, and there aren't many who would hire you.
"Deuce won't save you; I don't even know at this point if your father will, but that's hardly to the point anymore."
"So you lied," Kaiida interrupted.
"I lied, but on a slim hope that might come true. Yes, I lied."
"Why, Ellie? Why me? You could have left me to starve in the street."
"But you wouldn't have, apparently, would you? Even in his flaming anger, Deuce was generous with you. Much more, my dear, than he was with me. And that's why."
"You threw yourself at, Deuce?" Kaiida whispered, interpreting Ellie's last remark. "After everything that happened, you dared to think he would 'want you as a substitute?" Oh, she knew what kind of mushy ground she was treading on here. She knew, and she knew Ellie had the key and the power and she had to get her goat somehow if she were to have any means of fighting her. And Ellie was enraged by Kalida's words.
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"Now you know, my dear. Two rejections all on account of one Kaiida Ryland. It's a bit much even for me, and I'm rather hardened to that kind of thing. Deuce didn't even give it a moment's thought, Kaiida, and I'm aching for him to finally see exactly where you've gotten to," Ellie sneered with just a hint of triumph in her voice. "I'm going to try very hard to see that it happens. But meantime, we'll await the return of Mr. Humas and he, gentleman that he is, will show you the ropes in just the proper fashion."
She turned to leave Kalida's door and, as an afterthought, turned back and added, "If you continue screaming and banging on the door, Kaiida, I will come up here and kill you with my own bare hands."
Well, would she? Kaiida wondered as she stared out the window the following morning. Charlotte had brought her a semblance of breakfast and no sympathy.
"Oh honey, everyone has nerves. It's perfectly easy once you get the right attitude. And you're so beautiful all the guests will want to spend the night with you." Her voice betrayed no envy; she didn't expect to be beautiful, and not even to be used, but she rather liked all the attention the men gave her, and not having to make a commitment to one and lead a drab and drudgery-filled life. She said as much to Kaiida. "Honestly, once you get the hang of it, it's fun. And the guests all sweet-talk you and give you presents and money, and all they want is a few minutes of time with you. I kind of thought it was a fair exchange."
"Did you?" Kaiida murmured, thinking of her few minutes' time with Deuce—each time. How could she accept anything less than that? How could she bear it?
"Well, sure. The men all are real nice, and Ellie treats you real good, and you've got a room and your meals and she even provides some clothes. And there's lots of free
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time, and she gives us money too. And all for letting some nice guest spend some time with us. I really think you are not seeing this in the right way, Kalida. The guests would just love you," Charlotte concluded, putting away the untouched dishes. "You think about it. You could have so much fun and none of the work of being a wife. I think it's made to order."
"I will. I'll think about it," Kalida said dryly, watching her maneuver out of the room. She almost had the thought of trying to knock poor Charlotte over and make her escape, but then she saw the interesting bulge in Charlotte's apron pocket. So for all Charlotte's chattering ingenuousness, she had a side to her that was owned by Ellie. She would do whatever Ellie told her, including give Kalida a talk to rally her spirits and try to convince her of the saneness of acceding to Ellie's plans for her. And she would kill for Ellie, plain and simple.
Kalida realized she was shaking. She hadn't quite perceived the danger as being as real as it was. Ellie would kill me, she thought, Ellie is in a rage over my father and Deuce, and she blames me, that's the long and short of it. And she wants to make me dependent and a whore, and not necessarily in that order. She will pay back my father no matter what she has to do. But what she hopes to do to Deuce is anyone's guess when the bastard doesn't give a damn anymore.
A lead weight descended on her heart. That was true, and it shouldn't make a difference what she did now, she thought. She could perfectly well do what Ellie wanted. Charlotte's artless description of her duties was more or less to the point, insofar as she could envision it. And she was sure that, even though Charlotte was shy of giving graphic details, the essence was still the same as what she had experienced with Deuce. She would let some strange man touch her and kiss her, take her to bed. And for that, Ellie was willing to provide many benefits and some
money, and allow her to receive all the attention she could handle.
She could, she supposed, do worse. She hadn't much choice as to getting a job; there weren't many to be had in town for a woman. She could teach school? Hardly. Sell at the mercantile store? Boring. Raise vegetables and sell her produce and preserves? Would not get her any kind of livelihood very fast. Raise pigs? In whose backyard? Throw herself on the mercy of a handful of long-ignored relatives who hardly remembered her anyway? She didn't even know where to reach them.
Well now, she thought practically, Ellie's proposal was beginning to sound more and more attractive.
Don't even think it, her inner voice reprimanded her harshly.
Well, I will, she retorted to herself. Why not? Why the damn hell not?
Ellie let her stew still another day, with the naive coercing chatter of Charlotte to keep her company in the morning. Charlotte made things sound like a bed of roses. Charlotte loved her work, anyway; she would never do anything else no matter what she said.
Ellie listened from behind the door that morning.
Kalida must have been asking questions because Charlotte sounded all
animated, as if the Kalida were finally getting into the spirit of things. "Well," she was saying, "this is really about how it goes. The dinner and all you know. And after, sometimes—not always mind you, but most times—the gentleman indicates there is one of us he wct'ld like to talk to, see. And then we talk, kind of get to know each other a little bit. It makes it a little less . . . businesslike, because he has made his arrangements with Ellie, see, so we don't have to take care of any of that.
"So we talk, and after a little while with the talking, the
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gentleman might indicate something like he finds me very comfortable to be with, and perhaps we could be alone someplace. And—well, you know, sometimes you say yes immediately, sometimes you play him along a little longer. But eventually, you suggest you can be alone in your room, which is conveniently discreet, and you meet him there. And by that time, of course, you have slipped out of your dress and you are ready to have him kiss you— and whatever."
"Charlotte!" Kalida gasped, feigning shock and knowing full well Charlotte would take her seriously.
"Don't you like to be kissed?" Charlotte asked sweetly.
"Oh God," Kalida muttered. She raised her voice, "Go on. What happens next?"
"Well, that depends on the gentleman, of course. But they all seem to like a little kissing and touching you. Maybe if you like them well enough, you might let them undress you still more. And then you get on the bed, and you don't have to really do much more unless you've got a mind to. You can touch them if you want—that's always good, except I don't care to do it—and you let them have their way with you, because that's always over quick. And that's it," Charlotte shrugged prettily. She smiled. "You meet a lot of men that way, and sometimes one or two come back steadily so it's like being married almost—for a while. But you don't have to do the rest of that stuff, and they feel like we're not cheap and they can enjoy themselves a lot more. Wasn't Ellie clever about that?"
