Caring for Citrine (The Red Petticoat Saloon)

by Alta Hensley

  Caring for Citrine

  The Red Petticoat Saloon

  By

  Alta Hensley

  ©2016 by Blushing Books® and Alta Hensley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

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  Hensley, Alta

  Caring for Citrine

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-594-7

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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  Table of Contents:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  Chapter One

  Della Mae sat on the wooden bar stool struggling in more ways than one. The grating pain caused by the boning in her corset digging into her hipbone was nothing compared to the tightness in her chest as she did everything within her power not to cough. She practically held her breath in fear that, on exhale, an involuntary hack would emerge from the depths of her congested lungs. Madame Jewel had warned her time and time again that a sickly working girl was not to be allowed on the saloon floor. It made sense—who would want a sick, coughing whore to lay with? Especially when any man who walked through the door of The Red Petticoat could choose from several luscious, vigorous, and lovely women who were just waiting to take their hard-earned money for a momentary release of pleasure.

  Tears welled in her eyes as the impending cough worked its way to the back of her throat. She had no choice but to try to release it as slowly, quietly, and controlled as possible, and just pray it wasn’t going to be one of her usual attacks that left her coughing for several minutes until she was gasping for air. Madame Jewel would have her hide for doing that during one of their busiest times. Della knew she shouldn’t be there, but Madame Jewel hadn’t allowed her to work for nearly two weeks now, and a whore who didn’t work would just be another beggar on the street. Della had been there once, and would never be there again. Cough or not.

  Pulling out an embroidered hanky from the crease of her bosom, she prepared herself for the upcoming cough.

  “Girl, you best get off this floor,” Madame Jewel hissed from behind her.

  The sudden surprise had Della spinning wide-eyed to meet her employer. A blonde haired, blue eyed beauty… but not one a wise person would cross.

  “Ma’am,” she croaked, the impending cough causing her voice to be much raspier than normal. “I’m fine today. Really. I feel much better.”

  Madame Jewel approached closer so no one could overhear what she said. “I can’t have one of my gems scaring away the customers. Lord knows I don’t need any rumors going around that the petticoat gems got a case of consumption. If Mr. Gabe thinks I’m letting you ignore the rules, yours won’t be the only tanning he delivers. Gems need to be healthy. You know this, Della.” Madame Jewel always called her whores ‘gems’, and oddly, it always made Della feel a sense of warmth each time. A level of class she never had the luxury of feeling before.

  “I haven’t worked in a long time. I need to work or—”

  “Not another word. If you don’t get off the floor before Gabriel sees you, he’ll deliver a whipping like no other. I can see you are holding back a coughing spell as we speak. Now get moving.”

  Della glanced over her shoulder at the bodyguard whose job it was to protect all the ‘gems’. And if he felt it was justified to deliver a whoopin’, Della knew that Gabriel would do just that. And although Gabriel was by far one of the sweetest, most sincere, and protective men she’d ever met, she also knew him to be firm and heavy-handed… when a willful gem was in need of correction.

  Della sighed heavily and silently nodded in defeat. Another day with no work, meant another day with no pay.

  Madame Jewel softened her expression and smiled. “I’m sure Nettie needs some help in the kitchen preparing supper. You can earn your keep that way for now.” She reached for Della’s arm and ushered her away from the potential customer
s.

  As she crossed the threshold of the kitchen, Della finally let out the cough that nearly choked her. The release was so heavenly that she allowed cough after cough to leave her body, not caring who was around to see or hear.

  “Child! It looks like death just walked into my kitchen!” Nettie rushed over to her with a towel in her hand. Not even pausing, she directed Della to a wooden chair pressed against the center island in the middle of the room and forced her to sit, the wracking expulsions continuing the entire time.

  Della sat and coughed repeatedly into her hanky, feeling as if her spine would break through the skin on her back with the powerful force. The loud bark that escaped from the depths of her core reverberated off the hanging pots and pans in the room. At this moment, Della’s small-framed body could give a fancy opera singer a run for her money when it came to the sheer magnitude of sound.

  “Della is on kitchen duty with you until further notice,” Madame Jewel informed Nettie. She looked at Della with a stern expression but sympathy in her eyes. “A sick gem is bad for business. You aren’t in any condition to be entertaining any men folk. You are off the floor until further notice. Don’t make me get Gabriel involved.”

  Still coughing, Della nodded in agreement. What choice did she have?

  “Nettie,” Madame Jewel called over her shoulder as she exited the kitchen, “if Della doesn’t stop coughing soon, let me know, and we will call for Doctor Norwood.”

  “No doctor please,” Della pleaded, knowing she couldn’t afford the cost of a visit. “I just need to release all the pressure in my lungs.” She coughed again, feeling as if her lungs were trying to break free from her sickly body. “I’ll be fine. I swear it.”

  Jewel looked at Nettie with a worried expression, nodded slightly and left the kitchen.

  Nettie walked to the large pot on the stove that was near boiling over to give it a good stir. “All right then, you sit there for a spell and get your breath back. When you can, I’ll get you working on peeling the potatoes.”

  Even though Della felt much better sitting down and not having to hold in her coughing, her chest hurt, her throat burned, and she felt dizzy from lack of air. “Thank you,” she wheezed.

  Nettie went about her business seasoning, stirring, chopping and creating her culinary masterpieces like always. Her hums soon turned into a song that Della adored. If Della didn’t know any better, she would think Nettie was singing it just for her.

  Old Daniel Tucker wuz a mighty man,

  He washed his face in a fryin’ pan;

  Combed his head wid a wagon wheel

  And he died wid de toofache in his heel.

  So, git outa de way for old Dan Tucker,

  He’s come too late to git his supper.

  Supper’s over and breakfast cookin’,

  Old Dan Tucker standin’ lookin’.

  Here’s old Dan, he comes to town;

  He swings the ladies round and round.

  He swings one east, he swings one west,

  He swings with the one he loves the best.

  She sang the entire time, ignoring the fact that her soft little melodies were occasionally interrupted by Della’s hack. No matter what Della did, she couldn’t stop. Her entire body ached at this point, and she actually wondered if she would suffocate from her coughs. One after another, over and over again, grating cough after cough. The rare moments not coughing were spent gasping for air, only to start the vicious cycle all over again.

  “Child, I need to ask you something. When you cough like that, do you see blood?” Nettie didn’t stop her supper preparations, but she did glance over her shoulder with a look of worry quickly washing over her face. “You tell me the truth.”

  “No, ma’am. No blood.”

  Nettie nodded. “Good.” Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned and faced Della. “I have supper under control. I want you to go lie down. You are about as white as that hanky in your hand.”

  Panic sunk in, and Della did everything she could to hold back the next spell of coughs. “I have been in bed for the last two weeks off and on. If I don’t start doing something around The Red Petticoat, Madame Jewel is going to kick me to the streets!” Tears welled in her eyes. “Please, I won’t cough anymore. Put me to work.”

  Nettie walked over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “No one is going to kick you out on the street, and you know it. You are a member of this family, child. But you ain’t going to do no good if you don’t take care of yourself. You were doing just fine there for a while and came as close to healthy as I think you can be. This is just another set back, and you’ll be good as new with a little rest.”

  “But I haven’t been a gem in over two weeks. Madame Jewel—”

  “Madame Jewel is gonna have Gabriel skin you alive if you don’t listen to us. You’re sick, Della. Lordy knows what ails you, but we do know that with proper rest, you do get better. We saw it the last time Gabriel had to blister your behind and enforce bed rest.”

  Della remembered the blistering all too well, and most certainly didn’t want another reminder of what happens when a gem doesn’t listen to Madame Jewel or Nettie. She knew she couldn’t win this argument and started to cry.

  “Now don’t you go and start crying in my kitchen,” Nettie chastised. “You know you need rest. That cough ain’t going to go away by itself.” She reached for Della’s arm and helped her stand. “Now get to bed before I take my spoon to you.”

  Della dabbed at her eyes and sniffled. “I love you, Nettie. I’m so sorry I am such a burden.”

  Nettie gave her a soft pat on the butt and started ushering her out the kitchen door. “And I love you. We all do, which is why we care so much. You ain’t no burden. But if you cause me to burn my gravy, I’ll make sure you have to lie in bed on your belly for the next week because your tail will be so sore.” She gave a small smirk before turning to attend supper.

  Della walked out of the kitchen feeling more pathetic than ever. She couldn’t even pull her weight by peeling potatoes. The thought of going back to her room alone depressed her, and even though she knew everyone felt it was for her own good, she just couldn’t spend another day staring at the four walls. Allowing her stubbornness—mixed with an ounce of foolishness—to take over, she headed back to the front parlor.

  Before she could even see Charlie, she could hear him. An instant smile and warmth filled her soul when she heard the sound of Charlie playing the piano. She loved the magical melodies he created as his fingers danced across the keys. As odd as it may be, some of the rare times she didn’t cough were when she sat and listened to him play. It was as if her cough took a silent seat as well and simply wanted to listen to the music. She loved Charlie with her entire heart. Nothing in the romantic way, but loved him and saw him as a big brother of sorts. The busy hour was setting in at The Red Petticoat, so, of course, it was time for Charlie to entertain.

  She snuck her way into the saloon, past the bar and stood behind Charlie who greeted her with a smile but never hesitated in his performance. Standing there listening to him made everything seem all right again. She wasn’t just a sick whore who couldn’t make a living. She wasn’t all alone taking advantage of Jewel’s kind charity. His music gave her hope for something, anything. She could have stood there all night and listened, and would have, if it weren’t for the fact that she saw Madame Jewel across the room spot her and shake her head in annoyance. Jewel walked over to Gabriel and whispered something in his ear. The fact that he looked up and made eye contact with Della, made it very clear that whatever was being whispered in his ear was about her.

  He nodded when Jewel was done whispering and gently caressed the side of her face before making his way over to the piano. His expression revealed he was not any more pleased to see Della on the floor than Madame Jewel had been.

  Charlie looked up at her from the piano and shook his head. He mouthed the words, “You are in trouble,” and continued to play on.

  Walking
up to her and taking her firmly by the arm, Gabriel said, “Come with me now.”

  There was no question, no suggestion, no choice. She knew that any resistance would only make it worse. Silently, she allowed him to lead her upstairs to her room. When they reached her door, he stopped and studied her for a moment.

  “How are you feeling?” The look of concern replaced the earlier annoyance on his face.

  “I’m fine. I have a cough, but I don’t feel sick at all.” She hoped that her reassurance would make him realize that Jewel was just overreacting, and she didn’t really need to be off the floor.

  “Weren’t you supposed to be helping Nettie with supper?”

  “She made me leave. She told me to get some…” Della watched the expression on his caramel skin go from concern to disciplinarian mode. She had seen this face all too many times.

  “Nettie told you what?” He crossed his arms against his chest. He only did this when she was in trouble.

  She gulped. “To get some rest.”

  Gabriel reached across her and opened the door to her bedroom, guiding her inside with him following. “So let me get this right. Jewel told you to stay off the floor. Nettie told you to go upstairs and get some rest. You decide to go against what both of them said. Is that all correct?”

  “I only have a cough.”

  Gabriel touched her forehead feeling for a fever which she already knew she didn’t have. Other than her chest hurting like hell, she physically felt fine.

  “I’m happy to hear that.” He pointed to her bed. “Bend over the bed, petticoat up, bare your behind.” His expression, his tone, his entire presence meant business. He was the disciplinarian sent to do a job. She’d known that the minute he led her upstairs.

  “Gabriel, please. I will crawl in bed like a good girl. You don’t need to spank me.” It really was pointless trying to plead with him. All the gems knew that when Mr. Gabe had his mind set on something, no amount of pleading or arguing would get you out your predicament.