A Cowboy's Muse

by Beth Williamson

  She already knew they would have no problems physically, growing warm just thinking about how nicely their bodies fit together. Clio surreptitiously wiggled in her chair. When she looked up from her bowl of beef stew, Ace was looking at her with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  Without even thinking about what she was doing, she stuck out her tongue at him. A gasp from the other side of the table erupted from Peony.

  “Miss Clio, really! Did you just poke out your tongue at the sheriff?”

  “It weren’t nothing,” replied Maybelle as she dug in for another spoonful of dinner. “Ace is mad at her and teasing her a bit.”

  “It was not nothing,” Peony said. “It’s completely improper how Clio behaves. Why, I saw at least six young men call on her today. In one day! Absolutely unheard of.”

  “Mebbe in your house,” Maybelle muttered under her breath.

  Clio hid her grin behind her napkin and tried to ignore Peony’s caustic remarks. She was obviously a very unhappy person who wanted to make the world as unhappy as she was. Clio’s sister Melpomene, the muse of tragedy, would love her.

  “You’re new in town and if you have any chance at all of catching a husband, you must think of your reputation, Clio. Men don’t want soiled doves as their wives.” Peony continued as if she had a pulpit in front of her. Her chilly eyes blazed like twin blue flames and a bit of spittle gathered on her thin lips. “You will bring shame to this house, to Maybelle, and to the rest of us.”

  “That’s enough, Peony,” Maybelle said.

  Ace and Lefty frowned at Peony. Gus stopped touching his hair long enough to stare at both of them. Eunice continued to chew and kept her eyes down.

  “It’s not enough!” She pointed a bony finger and a malevolent glare at Ace. “He brought her into this house to keep as his own personal harlot.”

  Ace’s chair slid back with a resounding scrape that echoed around the room like a gunshot. “You’d better be certain you want to go down this road, Peony, because you’re sure as hell going to find me at the other end.” His voice was cold enough to bring the temperature down ten degrees in the dining room.

  “Peony,” Eunice said quietly. “You need to apologize and stop being mean to Clio.”

  Peony turned her head and narrowed her gaze at her younger sister. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” Eunice’s voice became stronger as she spoke. The hand holding her spoon shook, but she kept on. “You’re being intentionally mean, as usual, and I for one am tired of it! So just shut up!”

  All movement stopped. Clio was certain everyone was holding their breath. It was likely the first time Eunice had ever stood up to her sister. Peony’s mouth opened and closed like a big, brown-haired fish.

  Peony stood up and threw her napkin down on the table. “Excuse me, Maybelle. I believe I’ve lost my appetite.”

  After she stormed out of the room—Clio thought she actually flew like a witch—the silence lasted for another moment or two. Then Maybelle started clapping, and soon everyone joined in on the applause.

  “Good for you, girl! I never thought I’d see the day when someone stood up to old poisonous Peony!”

  Eunice smiled and blushed, then begged everyone to stop clapping. “She was being mean. And Clio is my friend.”

  Clio smiled back at her. Yes, she had another new friend. Mortals were so blessed. She mouthed ‘thank you’ to Eunice.

  “She wasn’t being mean, she was being a bitch,” said Ace. “You did good, little one.” Eunice blushed under his praise.

  “I never knew she had it in her,” said Gus as he eyed Eunice up and down while making sure no hairs were out of place on his coiffure.

  “I did,” said Lefty, then he winked at her.

  “Enough yapping. Everybody finish up before it gets cold. I taught Clio how to make peach cobbler today so we’ve got a treat for you after you finish.” When Maybelle commanded, everyone complied. That was definitely the way of the house.

  Ace dropped back into his chair and concentrated on his dinner again. Clio’s appetite had vanished with Peony’s venom and the altercation with Ace earlier. She had a healthy respect for all the emotions humans have to experience all day, every day. Up until now, she had no idea.

  Unfortunately, she had a gnawing feeling that this was only the beginning.

  Chapter Seven

  They came like an army of black soldier ants. Reverend Schaeffer and his gaggle of matrons in dark clothes descended on the house and overpowered Eunice, who tried to stop them at the door. Clio was frowning over a pie crust while Maybelle chuckled at her when they burst into the kitchen.

  Clio’s heart took up residence in her throat. She knew whatever they had to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

  “You are a heathenish daughter of the devil and we are here to purge you from this house.”

  Definitely not good.

  “Matthew, what are you doing?” Maybelle asked.

  The reverend turned to her. “Purging your house of the evils within. This child is bringing nothing but sorrow and sin on you. You must join with me to cast her out.”

  Maybelle stood with her hands bracketed on her ample hips. “I’ll join you at the door when I shut it behind you. Now take your flock of crows and get out of my house.”

  The reverend puffed himself up like bellows and pointed his knurled finger at her. Clio knew a moment of fear. “Get thee out, Satan!”

  “You’re being ridiculous, Matthew. Clio is a wonderful girl. She helps me around here in exchange for her room and board. She is polite and sweet and there is nothing evil about her.” Maybelle tried to reason with him, but judging by his expression, it was for nothing.

  “That is how the devil works, sister Maybelle. Will you or won’t you turn her over to me for cleansing?”

  Clio didn’t know what cleansing was, but she was sure it would most likely hurt. She wished for the millionth time she had her powers back. Of course, that would convince them she truly was evil or at the very least, a witch.

  “I won’t. I’m telling you one more time to leave this house or I’ll call the sheriff. Ace has taken a shine to this girl and he won’t be pleased to find you harassing her.” Maybelle might be short, but she could look downright mean when she wanted to.

  The reverend chuckled. “Ace is no longer the sheriff. The town council voted him out of his job this morning and replaced him with Cody Rowe. Now that boy has potential, not like that derelict Dodsen left here like a pile of refuse.”

  Clio couldn’t contain her temper any longer. “Ace Nevada is not a pile of refuse. I won’t hear another insult said against him or anyone else in this house. If you want me to leave I will, but there won’t be another malicious word spoken.”

  She was surprised to hear a tone in her voice that closely resembled her father. Her hands clenched in anger, her lips were compressed so tightly her jaw ached. This was anger. And it was powerful.

  “Yes, leave! You will do nothing but evil here.”

  “No, she’s not leaving!” Eunice cried. She ran into the room and put her arm around Clio’s shoulders. “You can’t make her!”

  The reverend smiled a horrendous grin that made shadows dance up her skin. “Oh, yes I can. I didn’t want to do this, Maybelle, but you leave me no choice. Either that harlot leaves this house or Lefty will find no more work in this town. Gus will lose his job at the bank. Eunice and Peony will no longer be welcomed by the women of this town to do their sewing. And that filthy outlaw, Ace, will be back behind bars where he belongs, arrested by our new sheriff.”

  The threats hung in the air like a tremendous clap of thunder. They were deafening. Maybelle’s mouth opened and closed without making a sound. She turned pained eyes on Clio and that’s when she knew the reverend’s threats were no bluff. He could ruin her friends’ lives simply because he didn’t like her.

  She couldn’t let that happen. The one emotion that ran through her was loyalty. Once given, it was as mighty as a rushing ri
ver.

  “I’ll go, but not before I have your solemn oath that no harm will come to anyone in this house.”

  The reverend nodded his head. “You have it. I swear to Almighty God that no one who lives in this house will be harmed by me or mine.”

  “Or the law.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Or the law.”

  Clio nodded. “Let me gather my things then.”

  She had no idea where she would go, but that didn’t matter. What mattered most was her friends couldn’t suffer because of her. It wasn’t right.

  “Clio!” Eunice followed her up the stairs. “You can’t go! Where will you stay?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure I’ll find some place.” Her heart was beating madly in her chest and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She would be strong. She was a goddess, a muse, daughter of Zeus.

  After quickly throwing her new and borrowed clothes on top of one of her dresses, she tied the sleeves around the pile to create a makeshift bag. Gazing at the bed where she lost her heart to Ace, she wondered if she’d ever feel his skin touching hers again. She closed her eyes against roiling emotions she didn’t know how to handle and then went back downstairs with a quiet Eunice trailing her. Maybelle stood by the door with a fierce frown.

  “It ain’t right.”

  Clio hugged her tightly and then did the same for a teary-eyed Eunice. She turned to find only the reverend left on the front porch. The flock of women had dispersed.

  “Making sure I actually leave?” she asked as she stepped out into the warm June sunshine. The heat of the day hadn’t really hit yet. She hoped she found a roof over her head before that happened.

  “I’m going to escort you to the hotel. Sister Barbara’s husband owns the establishment and has offered your poor soul a room in exchange for work as a maid.”

  Clio wasn’t sure why the offer sounded like a command, or why the thought of staying at the hotel made a chill creep up her spine, but it did. She turned to her friends one last time and waved as she stepped off the porch.

  Things couldn’t possibly get much worse.

  Clio was once again proven wrong. Things could be much, much worse. After she arrived at the hotel and met Mr. Thompson, the manager, she was shown her room. Mr. Thompson was a short, beady-eyed man with horseshoe-shaped hair around a shiny bald patch on his head. His skin was shiny and greasy-looking and his hand resting on the small of her back felt like a dead fish. She stepped away from his touch as soon as he opened the door to the tiny room.

  It was in a corner behind the kitchen, with no windows and only a cot with a crate beside it, holding a tallow candle and flint. Apparently she wasn’t good enough for a kerosene lantern or matches.

  “Thank you, Mr. Thompson.” She put her bundle of clothing on the bed.

  “No need to thank me, Sister Clio. You’ll be working to earn this room. Starting now. I don’t give nothing away for free.”

  Mr. Thompson introduced her to Bernard, the man who was in charge of the hotel staff, which consisted of six people including the cook, two maids, a houseboy, himself, and Clio. There was another man who worked at the front desk during the night hours, but he wasn’t there at ten in the morning. Bernard seemed to be a likeable man, although she couldn’t be sure. She was still in shock over being thrown out of Maybelle’s.

  The past week was full of jolts to her equilibrium and this latest one was the worst. No one was friendly or talkative, and they whispered to each other instead of speaking out loud. She figured they were probably talking about her and the nasty rumors that were spreading through town. The two maids were cousins named Erin and Margaret, with identical carrot-red hair, freckles and blue eyes. They both looked at her like a piece of offal and shoved a bucket, soap, and a scrub brush at her.

  After depositing her in the communal bathing room on the second floor, they told her to clean it thoroughly then to proceed upstairs to do the other two. She knelt down on the stained wooden floor and told herself not to cry. Life couldn’t bring more than she could handle, could it?

  She had no idea how to clean, but figured adding water to the bucket and then soap to the water was probably a good start. Maybelle cleaned her kitchen that way. Through trial and error, Clio was able to fill the bucket with water from the tub and add the lye soap to the water. She sniffed the soap and decided it was not a pleasant scent.

  Clio started with the tub and by the time she was done scrubbing it, the water was gray and her arms hurt. She poured the dirty water down the drain and rinsed the tub, then continued with the rest of the bathroom.

  By the time the third floor bathroom was clean, she could barely feel her arms and her hands looked like red, angry monsters.

  By the time the fourth floor bathroom was clean, Clio couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes. It was late and her stomach yowled noisily as she clomped down the stairs. She had already missed two meals, but she didn’t care. Her back was screaming, her hands were cracked and bleeding in a few places, her knees were sore, but most of all, her heart ached. It wasn’t the work that bothered her, although, as a goddess, she’d never needed a toilet much less a clean one.

  It was the loneliness, the coldness of the hotel. She was cleaning for strangers that she’d never met nor would likely meet. She missed Maybelle and her friends at the boardinghouse. She missed her sisters and her mother.

  Most of all, she missed Ace. Clio was falling in love with him, and right then and there she needed him so badly that a sob escaped from her throat before she could stop it. She made it to her room and dropped her bucket on the floor when she found Ace sitting on her bed waiting for her.

  *****

  Ace got drunk in celebration after the town fired him. Maybelle found him on the back porch and dragged him upstairs with Lefty’s help. After he slept it off, it was almost dark and he felt like shit on the bottom of a horse’s hoof.

  Then he found out what that idiot minister had done to Clio. Pure rage was replaced by worry. He didn’t know where she was or if she was safe, but he couldn’t help but wonder about what could happen to her alone at that hotel. Ace had run over to the hotel and bullied that fool Bernard into telling him where her room was, but he wasn’t sure where she was in the hotel.

  Ace decided to wait for her and sat down on her bed. After ten minutes, he’d almost gone looking for her when she walked into the room. His heart almost stopped beating when he saw her. She was filthy and bedraggled, the expression on her face so full of grief and misery he felt his heart kick. A feat that hadn’t happened in, well, he couldn’t remember if it had actually happened before.

  Before Clio.

  He stood and she practically flew to him. When he closed his arms around her, the world tilted back to where it was supposed to be.

  How the hell had that happened?

  Ace prided himself on being self-sufficient, on being beholden to no one, man or woman. Now he felt responsible for someone else—to the point where he was worried about her.

  Son of a bitch! He cared about her!

  It was hard, but he managed to ignore his astonishment and disbelief in favor of giving Clio what she needed. Comfort.

  “It’s okay, honey,” he murmured as his hands stroked her back.

  “Oh, Ace,” she said against his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe what happened.”

  “I already know and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them.” Guilt had sunk its teeth into his hide. Dammit.

  She looked up at him with a frown. “You couldn’t have stopped them. That so-called minister threatened everyone, including poor Eunice. They fought dirty.”

  Ace pressed her head back onto his shoulder. “So do I.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me. Especially you.”

  His hands stilled on her back. “Especially me?” He didn’t want to contemplate why his never–before affected heart suddenly started beating like a jackrabbit.

  She backed away from him and swip
ed one grimy paw across her eyes. “Yes, you. Don’t you understand? I’ve chosen you for my mate.”

  Mate.

  Like wolves. Mates for life. Mates who never chose another even if one died. The thought made him want to howl. Instead, he cupped her face and kissed her more gently than he had ever kissed another.

  “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  He gently set her on the bed and left the room to get warm water from the kitchen and clean rags. Then he flattered the cook, Pearl, until she gave him a bar of her rose-scented soap and a white, fluffy towel. He went back to Clio’s room and found her sound asleep on the bed, still dressed with her shoes on.

  Ace had never been the type to be a caregiver, and most times the thought of it gave him the willies, truth be told. Without even thinking about it, he set his supplies down on the crate and undressed her. He grimaced when he noticed her hands looked like someone had been jumping up and down on them.

  A long-buried memory of his mother surfaced, of a song she would sing while she bathed him. He didn’t remember the words, only the melody. So he hummed while he gently bathed Clio from head to foot, mindful of all the sore spots on her body. Her sleep was unbroken while he turned her over and washed her incredible backside. Tempted to do more than bathe her, he told his dick to take a nap until she was ready. He couldn’t really wash her hair, so he just wiped it down with a soapy rag, then again with a clean one.

  After he rinsed her off, he dried her with the towel. Her skin shone like the rose whose scent teased his nostrils. His body ached with the need to touch her.

  So he did.

  His hands rubbed and massaged her arms, shoulders, legs and feet. Then he moved to her back and was surprised to find how narrow her shoulders were. Clio carried a lot of weight for a person with such small shoulders. As he worked the knots out of her back, she moaned.

  “Ace?”