Dahlia's hands were working in small circles first over Josie's side and then her hip. Lightning flashed outside of the window, and in the brief brightness, Josie could see the soft, affectionate smile on her face. Dahlia took hold of one of Josie's thighs and pulled her in for another kiss.
They bumped noses, and Josie groaned at the sudden shock of pain that spread through her face. She drew back a little, but not enough to pull away completely. While her nose faded to a dull ache again, she caught Dahlia's nipples between her fingers. She liked her own twisted sharply, but she was gentle now, squeezing carefully and delighting in the small sighs she drew from Dahlia.
Where should she go from here? Josie could feel the wet heat between her own legs, the pleasant throb, and wondered it Dahlia felt the same. She released her breasts to touch her sides, hesitant in the idea of pulling her drawers down.
Dahlia gave her a gentle push, rolling Josie onto her back. "I want to touch you somewhere else," she said, running her hand up the inside of her thigh to make her clear where she intended to touch her next.
Josie gave a shivering exhale and she sat up, leaning her weight on her elbows to watch as much as she could in the dark. "Yeah," she whispered, but found herself closing her legs around Dahlia's hand when it moved up higher.
"We don't have to," Dahlia whispered in return. "I'd be happy just to hold you all night. If you don't want me to touch you, I won't."
"No," Josie said, and moved her legs apart again. "I want you to." She licked her lips and watched Dahlia's pretty hands, her breath drawing up sharply as one made its way between her legs, two fingers lightly stroking over sensitive skin.
"Try to relax, if you can. I want to make you feel wonderful," Dahlia said. She kissed Josie on the cheek, mindful of her injured nose this time, and continued to slowly drag her fingers over her outer folds. She smiled when Josie jerked. "Was that pleasant or unpleasant?"
"Very pleasant," Josie sighed. Dahlia had found the most sensitive part, and was rounding her fingers across that spot over and over. Her elbows were shaking, her legs squirming against the sheets.
Josie groped in the darkness until she found Dahlia's leg, feeling her way up until her fingers touched the soft, damp curls that surrounded her sex. She wanted her to feel the same way, and clumsily felt around, enjoying the softness and wetness around her fingers. Josie had done this to herself before, and she tried to find the same places on Dahlia that had made herself feel so good.
Dahlia moaned and moved to kneel between Josie's open legs, moving her hips to guide her touch, sighing and pressing down against her hand. "Right there," she gasped, and threw her other arm around Josie's shoulders, kissing the side of her face, her neck.
Burying her face in Dahlia's hair, Josie panted against her, the tight feeling of pleasure making her light-headed. She clung to her like she was drowning, her next gasp catching in her throat and coming out as a choked sound, pleasure pulsing tightly between her legs, against Dahlia's stroking fingers.
"Josie, please don't stop," Dahlia moaned, hips moving against her hand.
Still in a comfortable haze, Josie continued to press her finger against the hard nub that made Dahlia gasp, holding her as she continued to rock, and then toss her head back. The sound of thunder covered the noises she made as climax overtook her.
Dahlia collapsed against her, and they both slid down to the bed. Josie stroked her fingers through Dahlia's curly hair, both arms around her now. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so calm, so content. Sighing, she kissed her shoulder.
"Josie, I know we haven't known each other for long now, and you plan to leave, but…" Dahlia lifted her head, her half-shadowed expression soft. "I'd like it if you stayed. I like having you around."
Heart sinking, Josie closed her eyes. "I like being around you, too, but I can't stay too much longer. I don't want to risk you gettin' mixed up in whatever I end up doing with Bill Walters." She opened her eyes and lay one of her hands on Dahlia's cheek. "Never met anyone like you, and I don't think I ever will again."
Dahlia's expression fell, but she rubbed her cheek against Josie's palm. "Let's not talk about it for now, then. We'll enjoy the time we've been blessed to have together."
Josie stayed on her back, but Dahlia moved to her side so she could lie against her side, head on her breast. With one hand on her back and the other on her own stomach, Josie tried to calm down and sleep, but her heart was still heavy, thinking about the day that she would have to leave Dahlia. It would come all too soon.
Chapter Thirteen
When Josie woke, Dahlia was gone, her side of the bed cold. Groaning, Josie rose, her entire face one dull throb from her nose. She washed up as best she could, careful of her injuries, and dressed with difficulty to head down for breakfast.
The Lady was quiet; Josie could only guess that the clients from last night had already gone home, and the rest of the good folks were at Sunday services. She could see Snapdragon, Emily, and three other whores she didn't know the names of sitting around one of the tables, playing cards. She called them a "good morning" and they responded in kind as Josie approached the bar.
Henry already had a plate ready for her; biscuits and gravy again, this time with salt pork. "Mornin', Miss Josie. You look a sight better than yesterday."
"Feel a sight better too, thanks to Dahlia—I mean, Miss Wheeler. You got anything besides coffee? It's hot as blazes today." Sweat was already dripping down the back of her neck.
"Got beer and whiskey, but I can't rightly call either of them cold."
"Beer'll do." She took a mug with her plate and was preparing to sit by herself when Snapdragon waved her over.
"Come play a spell, Miss Josie. It's too hot to do anything else." Snapdragon was only in a chemise, her fan in one hand, cards in the other.
"I ain't much good at cards," Josie said, but she sat down anyway, next to a whore with buxom features and a soft, fair face.
"I'm Missouri Kate," the woman said, the drawl in her voice explaining why she was called that. She nodded to the woman on her other side, who was as brown as an Indian. "This is Mary. She's not much for conversation."
"And I'm Lotta," said the woman across from Josie, her chestnut hair in pin-tight curls.
"Josie." She set down her plate. "Hope ya'll don't mind me being rude and eatin' in front of you,"
"Be rude," said Missouri Kate, crossing her legs. When she did so, Josie could see that below her shift, her plump thighs were bare above her stockings. Josie looked away quickly to hide the flush rising in her cheeks.
While Josie cut her salt pork into fork-sized chunks, Snapdragon gathered the cards into her hands, long fingers pushing them into a stack to shuffle. "We're playing five card draw, Josie. We play for pennies."
Shoving the fork into her mouth, Josie chewed while she searched her pockets; she had two quarters. "Deal me in, ma'am."
As the cards were passed around the table, Bit approached, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Will you teach me to play?"
"I don't reckon Miss Dahlia would approve of that," Josie said, picking up her cards as Snapdragon dealt them.
"Nonsense," Kate said. "A woman should kind how to play cards, in case she ever needs to make money fast. It won't do any harm."
Josie pushed her chair back enough that she could pick Bit up, settling her into her lap before pulling herself back in. "You know anything about cards?"
"I know the types. There's hearts, spades, diamonds, and um...clovers?"
"Clubs," Josie corrected, putting the cards in Bit's hands and showing her how to hold them like a fan. "Poker's a might complicated." She looked at her hand: two queens, diamonds and spades, three of diamonds, ten of clubs, nine of hearts, nine of clubs, and the jack of clubs.
"You have pairs," Bit whispered, sounding proud of herself for knowing that.
"Yep, two of them. If I get one more of either pair, then I'll have three of a kind. But if you put a pair and three of a kind together, th
ey make a full house." Josie tossed down her cards to exchange, explaining a straight and a flush as she had Bit pick them up.
"Oh, you didn't get another one," Bit said, still whispering.
"That's all right. Two pairs ain't anything to sneeze at." She waited while Emily changed her quarters over to pennies, then put two into the pot.
Snapdragon raised, fanning herself. "Should we deal you in, Bit?"
"Um…" Bit looked up from Josie's cards. "Not yet. I'm still learning."
While the other whores called the bet, with Lotta folding, Bit said, "Your horse is pretty. I like the stripe on her nose."
"That's called a blaze," Josie said. "And thanks."
"What's her name?"
After tossing in her cards to be exchanged, she replied, "Never gave her one."
Bit looked up at her and frowned. "But… everything should have a name."
Josie chuckled. "You want to give her one?"
Pursing her lips, Bit went back to looking at the cards. "Um, why don't you call her Blaze, because of her nose?"
"All right, she's Blaze, then." Snapdragon raised again, and Josie said, "What do you think, Bit? Should we call her bet, or fold?"
Bit chewed her lower lip, then said, "Let's call. She might be pretending to have good cards."
"That's called 'bluffing'," Emily said, giggling.
"All right." Josie called, and everyone turned up their cards. It turned out that Snapdragon wasn't bluffing; she had a straight.
Bit sighed. "Oh, we lost."
"That's all right. We'll try again this hand." Josie tossed her cards back to Snapdragon, and she felt Bit lean back against her. As she stroked her hair, Josie realized that she almost felt like she was home.
Chapter Fourteen
The next two weeks were much the same, with Josie working with the undertaker. Mr. Sing scolded her for being slow, but she didn't let on about her injuries from Slink and Foster—she just pushed herself harder. Josie put money in her pocket—not much, after paying her hotel fare—and finally had enough to buy the choker for Dahlia.
The day she bought the choker was the day she decided to leave Rio Plata. She hadn't killed Bill Walters—hadn't even seen him again if she finally had the spine to. As she tucked the choker into her trouser pocket, she told herself that she was a coward. Fifteen years hadn't been enough time to give her the guts to face him. She was ashamed as she rode back towards the Sentimental Lady. Would she be running from him all her life?
The sun beat down on the back of her neck as she drew closer to the Lady. To her surprise, Dahlia was outside, leaves clinging to her dress, her expression frantic. She kicked her horse in the ribs and galloped up closer.
"What's wrong?" she demanded, not dismounting. "Are you all right?"
"It's Bit. I sent her on an errand hours ago, and she hasn't returned. I've been looking all over creation." Dahlia swatted uselessly at her hair. "I went to the general store; the owner's little one said he saw her last with a man with a bad scar."
"Foster." But what would he want with Bit? The horrible realization sank in, and her hands tightened on the reigns. "I'm going after her," she said, turning her horse around.
"But you don't have your shotgun!" Dahlia said, turning towards the Lady. "I'll run and fetch it for you!"
"I got my pistol. I won't give that son of a bitch another minute with her," Josie said, and immediately pushed her horse into a full gallop. Her heart was pounding in far more anger than fear; she still considered herself to be a coward, but she'd be dead and cold before she let anyone hurt Bit.
On horseback, it was mere minutes to Bill Walter's estate. Slink stood outside, cleaning his nails with a knife. He looked surprised to see Josie, his sharp face tightening.
"Ain't we taught you a lesson yet?" he called to her.
Josie pulled her pistol and shot him in the forehead before she even got down from her horse. Cold-blooded murder wasn't normally something she sank to, but he was armed and she couldn't take the chance. She tied her mount to the fence, grabbed Slink's gun, and opened the gate.
The estate was beautiful; it was next to the river, the grass well-tended and full of flowers. She didn't see another soul until she was close to the house's door.
Foster was there. He must have heard the shot, but he stood where he was, a rifle resting in both hands. "Get out of here," he said, lifting the carbine to point at her face.
Josie stopped walking. "Where's the girl?"
"She's resting. Don't worry about her," he said, and cocked the gun. "I'll give you until the count of three to turn around and walk away."
"And shoot me in the back," Josie said.
"One," Foster said.
Josie ducked her head and drove her shoulder into Foster's chest. The gun fired and ripped her hat from her head, making her ears ring, but Foster fell as well, her on top of him. She cracked him in the face with the butt of her Roger & Spencer .44, stunning him enough that he dropped his rifle, before flipping it around and firing.
She picked up his carbine, then stood. The doorknob didn't turn, but a few well-placed kicks had the door swinging open. "Walters! Where the hell is she?!" Her own voice echoed back to her, but there was no response.
Running through the hall, Josie began pushing doors open. The second was a bedroom, and Bit was curled up in the middle of the bed, not even stirring when her name was called. She was breathing, though, and Josie picked her up, hoping that she was all right.
It wasn't until she was outside that Bill Walters appeared. He was carrying a rifle of his own, and it was already cocked. "Put that kid down!"
Josie did so, easily setting Bit down to lie in the grass. She needed her hands free. "I came to this town to kill you; you just gave me another reason."
"Who are you?!"
Behind him, Dahlia was walking up, lugging Josie's shotgun. She stopped and cocked it, making him whirl around.
Josie let out her breath between her teeth. Dahlia was going to hear the whole story now, but she would need to know, sooner or later. "My name is Josephine Sparks. That might mean nothin' to you, but my brother was John Sparks." Anger was warring with the fear in her, making her stomach twist sickly.
Realization dawned in Bill's face, and he lifted his rifle.
"Johnny worked panning the stream for silver, and I helped him. Our parents were both gone then, and we were penniless. Starving. You made friends with us, gave us food sometimes. You approached him one day and offered him money if he'd let you have me for a night."
Dahlia's eyes widened.
"He said no, of course, and told you to go to hell for even suggesting it. And you, being the coward that you were, pulled your pistol and shot him where he stood. Johnny wasn't even armed." Josie's eyes stung, but she refused to let her tears fall. She drew up both of her fists. "And when he was dead, there was no one to stop you… no one to hear a seven-year-old girl scream."
Bill's arm twitched, but Dahlia shouted, "You drop that rifle on ground, or I will burn you down!"
"Go ahead and do it, Bill," Josie said, quietly, voice shaking with rage, and dropped the rifle she'd taken.
He did so, slowly, keeping his eyes on Josie. "So, you've come for revenge? Is that it? It was fifteen years ago! You need to move on!"
Josie ran at him while he yelled, her fist driving into his groin. When he doubled over, she kicked at his face, her spur slicing his cheek open as he fell to the ground. "Get up!" she screamed, feeling the last of her composure slipping away. "Get up, you yellow-bellied son of a bitch!"
Bill struggled to his feet, but Josie only punched him again, this time in the chest. He staggered back, stumbled, and fell into the river.
Josie was on him in a heartbeat, her knees on his shoulders. He struggled to keep his head above the water, but she wrapped her hands around his throat, forcing his head down. As he struggled against her, all she could see was her brother falling, his blood rushing away into the same river. Bill's shadow falling over her l
ike a monster in a fairy tale, his hands reaching for her, grabbing her by the back of the dress, pulling her to the ground…
She wasn't sure if she was crying, or if was the river splashing up against her face.
"Josie!" Dahlia's arms were around her from behind. "For heaven sake, let go!"
"I can't," she choked. "I have to make sure he's dead! I can't let him hurt anyone else! I can't—"
"Darling, let him go," Dahlia whispered in her ear. "He's gone."
Josie slowly pried her hands away; she had left finger-shaped bruises on his skinny neck. His eyes were still wide open, skin so pale it looked nearly as blue as his lips had gone. She pulled herself out of Dahlia's arms and sat down heavily in the grass.
"Is Bit all right?" Dahlia asked.
"She's asleep," Josie rasped, wiping her face with her sleeve. "I don't know if he's touched her." She was trembling when she stood, making her way over to Bit, who was still asleep, and picked her up again. "Let's go. I don't want to spend another minute here."
Dahlia took Bit from her arms, and handed over her shotgun. "Let's go back to the Lady," she said, touching Josie's back.
They made it as far as the gate before the sheriff stopped them both. "Josie, you're under arrest. Surrender your weapons, or I'll be forced to fire on you."
"You haven't the slightest idea what's happened!" Dahlia cried.
"I'll go, long as I can say my piece," Josie said. "I ain’t done no wrong."
"That's not for me to decide," Wayland said. "Hand 'em over."
She surrendered her guns. "Take care of my horse," she told Dahlia. Before, she would have been all right with the idea of dying after taking care of Bill Walters. Now, the thought of never seeing Dahlia again made her want to weep.
Chapter Fifteen
Josie was dragged before a judge before the end of the day. She was grateful that she was allowed to tell her story instead of just being hanged, with Dahlia and the now-awake Bit adding their information.
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