by Connie Mason
Julie was lost in a strange world of sensual pleasure so intense she thought she would die of wanting as Rod’s lips discovered her woman’s body, devoting his special brand of attention to all the secret places until now she never knew existed. When he started to withdraw, Julie groaned in protest, tightening her arms about his neck, threading her fingers in the curling hairs at the nape of his neck.
“Wait, querida,” he whispered huskily, fully aware of the need he had aroused in her. “It will take but a moment to remove my clothes.” Reluctantly Julie loosened her grip as Rod rose unsteadily to his feet.
It was several seconds before either of them became aware of Mae Parker’s voice calling to them from the other side of the door. Cursing roundly in Spanish, Rod hastily pulled the sheet over Julie’s flushed body, took several deep breaths to still his raging ardor, and walked to the door on shaking legs. The tide of passion that had been building in him slowly began to ebb, but not before dealing a stab of disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Rod,” apologized Mae, smiling at Rod’s obvious state of arousal, “but an important message just arrived for you and I promised I’d deliver it immediately.” She handed an envelope to Rod who merely nodded his thanks and slammed the door in the bemused woman’s face.
Tearing open the letter, Rod scowled darkly as he read the words. “Is … is it bad news?” Julie asked, noting Rod’s glowering features.
“You could call it that,” Rod answered distractedly. “You’d better get dressed,” he added abruptly. “You can thank Mae for your escape. I had no business seducing you. Had I succeeded I would have been compelled to do the honorable thing and continue with this farce of a marriage. I must admit you were willing enough once you got over your initial shyness,” he added thoughtfully. “I find myself envying the man who eventually has the pleasure of taming you.”
Eyes bright with anger, Julie shot bolt upright, clutching the sheet to her breasts. “You arrogant bastard! To think I almost let you … let you …”
“Make love to you?” Rod supplied.
“Rape me!” Julie retorted, more hurt by his careless words than she cared to admit.
“Have no fear, querida,” Rod said softly, “you have nothing more to fear from me. I must leave immediately for Monterey. It seems the courts weren’t quite satisfied with my documents. That note was from my lawyer.”
“Will … will you return to San Francisco?”
Rod smiled, displaying a bright line of even, white teeth. “Will you miss me, querida?”
“Not likely!” shot back Julie.
“No, Julie, I will not return to San Francisco any time soon,” Rod said, almost regretfully. “I must return to Rancho Delgado where Elena …”
“Of course,” interjected Julie, feigning boredom. “Just make certain you speak to your lawyer about an annulment before you leave.”
Slanting her an inscrutable look, Rod nodded his agreement. “I will leave some money with you should you decide to return east.”
“Don’t bother, I don’t want your money,” Julie returned hotly. “Goodbye, Don Rodrigo.”
“Adios, querida. Vaya con Dios.” Then he was gone, leaving Julie with a strange feeling of emptiness.
3
The next day Julie discovered that Rod had left a substantial sum of money for her in Mae Parker’s keeping. He also explained the situation between him and Julie to Mae who was sympathetic to Julie’s circumstances but echoed Rod’s words advising her to leave California and go back to her people.
“I know Don Rodrigo is a handsome devil, honey,” Mae told her, “but he is right, you know. You are an Anglo, an American. He is a Californio, a man of proud Spanish stock. He belongs to a different world. Besides, he has been promised to another woman since he was a child.”
“I know, Mae, and … and I can accept that,” Julie contended. “But I will not leave California. Did Rod tell you about my father?”
“He mentioned him, Julie, but I’m afraid your search is destined for failure. Thousands of men disappear in the mountains never to be heard from again. Likely your father is one of those men.”
“Not you too!” wailed Julie, disheartened. “Is everyone against me? I will stay! I will find my father!”
“I hope you do, honey. But, frankly, I never heard of him before you came. What is his first name?”
“His name is Carl, Carl Darcy. He’s about forty-five, slightly balding, slender, blond like myself.”
Mae shrugged. “Could be any one of dozens of men, Julie. I’m sorry, I don’t remember him.”
“That’s all right, Mae. I’ll find him.”
Judging from the determined tilt to Julie’s pointed chin, Mae decided that if Carl Darcy was alive his daughter was sure to find him. “What are your plans, honey?” she asked solicitously.
“A job,” determined Julie resolutely. “I need a job. Can you help me?”
“That’s easier said than done, Julie,” Mae admonished. “I’m not sure there is an honest job for a decent girl in all of San Francisco. The Chinese found themselves ill-equipped to work the mines and more inclined to seek employment in the cities for a fraction of the normal wages. Of course,” she paused dramatically, “there is always Casey’s Pleasure Palace and a few other gambling halls and saloons that are constantly on the lookout for beautiful women.”
“Mae!” chided Julie, highly incensed. “I’d have to be quite desperate to resort to that … that kind of work. Think, Mae, you know this town. Is there no one willing to give me a job in all of San Francisco?”
Pursing her lips in deep concentration, Mae wagged her head from side-to-side. “Julie, there just isn’t … wait … of course … Marty. Marty Sloan. Many a time Marty Said to me she wished she could find some decent help.”
“Who is Marty Sloan?” Julie asked, her curiosity piqued.
“She’s a widow just like me. Only her husband died of snake bite back in ‘48 on their trek up from Texas while mine lost his life defending his claim against claim jumpers. We became friends. I opened a boarding house with what my husband left me and Marty took their savings and bought a huge tent. You might have seen it on your way here yesterday. She provides meals for the hundreds of men passing through the city. There aren’t nearly enough restaurants to feed the hoards of men reaching San Francisco daily. I’m sure Marty would give you a job if I asked her.”
“Perfect,” clapped Julie, excited. “I’m certain one of those men who eat at Marty’s will have heard of my father. Perhaps even know where he can be found. Thank you, Mae.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Julie,” Mae admonished, trying not to sound too discouraging.
“When can I start?”
“I’ll take you over there myself after breakfast. But I feel duty bound to warn you.”
“Warn me? About what?”
“Well,” Mae said thoughtfully, searching for the right words, “Marty isn’t exactly a lady like you and me. She’s a tough woman forced to resort to violence at times to protect herself. She’s a survivor, but don’t let her rough exterior and salty speech fool you. Inside, her heart is as big as all outdoors. Just don’t cross her and you’ll get along fine.”
Julie was to remember those words when she met the intimidating Marty Sloan. Nearly as tall as a man, Marty’s ample girth was girdled with a belt and holster instead of an apron, the butt of a colt pistol prominently displayed. Though far from fat, Marty’s raw-boned frame was well-padded. Her hair, once red and still abundant, was stuffed beneath a man’s broad-brimmed hat. Her sharp brown eyes missed nothing when she was introduced to Julie.
“A might scrawny, ain’t she, Mae?” Marty asked, eyeing Julie dubiously.
Julie bristled indignantly. “I’m healthy, strong and willing to work,” she insisted, drawing herself up to her full five foot-three.
Marty grinned, displaying a mouthful of teeth stained by tobacco. “Cute little thing when she’s got her feathers ruffled. What did you say your name was
, gal?”
“Julie. Julie … Darcy.” She had no intention of being known as Julie Delgado.
“Do you think you can wait tables, wash dishes and dodge horny customers trying to get their hands up your skirts?”
“Julie slanted a glance at Mae who raised her eyebrows as if to say, “I warned you.”
“I think so,” Julie declared with more confidence than she felt.
“Well then, get your tail in the kitchen while me and Mae have a little gab session.”
In the kitchen Julie encountered a funny little Chinese man who told her his name was Wong Li. In pidgeon English he informed her that he performed the heavy tasks around the kitchen as well as waited on tables. The man looked so frail that Julie seriously doubted his ability to perform the heavy tasks he detailed.
While Mae and Marty chatted, Julie studied her surroundings. The food tent was monstrous. She was certain it could seat a hundred men at the long tables lined up in neat rows. The floor was dirt but painstakingly cleared of fallen scraps and debris. The large main door faced the street but there was a smaller rear door behind the cooking area. The kitchen itself wasn’t a separate room but an open area set aside at the back of the tent sporting one of the few woodburning cook-stoves in San Francisco. A good share of the cooking was done outdoors over open firepits behind the tent.
Before long Mae waved goodbye and Julie began what proved to be the most exhausting day of her entire life. Before she had time to breathe, the lunch crowd descended upon her and Julie suffered through the whistles and crude remarks of the rough men, most of whom were startled to find a beautiful young woman in their midst. When one man became overbold and squeezed Julie’s breast in passing, causing her to cry out, Marty was immediately at her side, gun in hand.
“Do that one more time, Mel, and you won’t have the balls to try it again,” Marty threatened. The gun waved menacingly at the man’s genitals.
“Shit, Marty, I was just funning,” Mel said sheepishly, his eyes glued to the weapon in Marty’s hand. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it don’t. That goes for every one of you misbegotten sons-of-bitches,” Marty’s gravely voice warned. “I’m mighty fond of this here little gal and don’t take kindly to her being mauled by any of you scum. Do I make myself clear?”
There was some grumbling but the shouts of those in agreement soon drowned them out. After that, Julie was not bothered again. In fact, by the end of her first week of work she had gained the respect of nearly every one of Marty’s customers. During that week she questioned dozens of men, hoping that at least one of them had heard of her father. But she was met with disappointment at every turn. It was as if her father had disappeared into thin air. But Julie refused to give up.
Not only was Julie under Marty’s protective eye while on the job, but that protection extended until she reached the safety of Mae Parker’s boarding house in the form of the funny little Chinese man, Wong Li. At first, when Marty insisted Wong Li accompany her home, Julie was openly skeptical of his ability to defend her should the need arise until she saw the man in action, using what Marty called martial arts, an ancient form of self-defense. After that demonstration she gratefully accepted the man’s company, knowing herself to be safe from unwanted attention.
Julie learned that Marty knew about her and Rod. Mae had told Marty all about their strange relationship that first day. Several of the men also remembered that she and Rod had been married, had in fact witnessed the ceremony, and if they wondered about her status, they said nothing, fearful no doubt of Marty’s wrath. There was one of Marty’s customers who Julie came to fear. An ugly giant named Brute Kelly whose beady eyes followed her everywhere. Though he had made no untoward move thus far, Julie steered clear of him. She refrained from telling Marty of her fears, unwilling to cause trouble, especially since Kelly had not so much as spoken to her.
By the end of the second week Julie grew accustomed to the demands of her job. Though she fell into bed exhausted each night, it suited her just fine. It afforded her less time to think about Rod and the way he made her feel when he had kissed her and put his hands upon her body. She remembered distinctly the way her flesh tingled and burned at the touch of his lips and hands which had robbed her of reason and thought. Oh, but it was wicked to feel that way, Julie thought; to be so weak and spineless because of a stranger’s touch.
She had met scores of men since Rod but not one of them could compare to him in stature and looks. He had a certain something that made her blood sing through her veins whenever his dark, brooding eyes fell on her. Would any other man affect her in the same way? Somehow she doubted it. But try as she might she was unable to put Rod from her mind. Not even when she imagined him in the arms of his Spanish fiancée.
Julie laughed to herself. It seemed ludicrous to think of Rod’s bride-to-be when he already had a wife, although one of short duration. So far she had heard nothing from Rod’s lawyer but supposed these matters took time.
One day Brute Kelly broke his silence by speaking to her, his words sending a cold chill down her spine. “Where’s your ‘greaser’ husband, lady? Don’t tell me he tired of you already?”
Julie looked around for help and frowned when she saw that most of the men had already left after the evening meal. Marty was outside dousing the fires and Wong Li was helping her. Julie tried desperately to push her way around Brute Kelly but he blocked her at every turn.
“What is it you want, Mr. Kelly?” Julie asked, plucking ineffectually at his huge hand as it curled around her upper arm.
“You, honey. I want you. If that damn don wouldn’t have been so damned stubborn you’d be mine right now. I’d keep you too busy to work in this hash house, even if it meant spending most of the time on your back.”
“If you persist in bothering me I’ll make sure my husband learns of it when he returns,” Julie bluffed.
“Who are you trying to fool?” Kelly laughed nastily. “It’s a well known fact that Delgado has a woman stashed away on his ranch. You’re nothing more than a bit of fluff who temporarily caught his eye. He left you, lady. You’re up for grabs and I aim to stake my claim here and now.”
Brute Kelly reached for Julie, catching her about her waist and slamming her up against his rock-hard body. Her cry of distress brought Marty racing from the kitchen which she had just entered through the back door. “Back off, you bastard,” Marty’s gravely voice warned, her mean-looking colt already in her hand, “or you’ll find yourself with two new holes in your head to match those already there.”
“Damn it, Marty, what’s eating at you?” Kelly roared. “I ain’t hurting the girl none. I just aim to be friendly.”
Cocking a shaggy eyebrow, Marty asked, “Do you want Kelly for a friend, Julie.”
“No! No, I don’t,” Julie quickly replied, her look of disgust telling Marty all she needed to know.
“Get out of here, Kelly,” Marty ordered, bolstering her words with a wave of her pistol. “And don’t come back. From now on you can find your meals elsewhere.”
Releasing Julie, Kelly stepped backwards, slowly inching his way to the door. “I’m going, Marty, no need to get nasty about it. I sure as hell ain’t going to risk my neck over a piece of tail.” Lowering his voice so only Julie could hear, he warned ominously, “I’ll take care of you yet, bitch, when that mother hen ain’t riding herd on you.” Then he was gone, leaving Julie shaken but vastly relieved.
For the next two days Julie was watchful and on edge. But when Brute Kelly failed to return she breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she’d seen the last of him. Even Marty relaxed her vigilance when no other trouble presented itself in the form of Brute Kelly, though Wong Li still took the precaution of walking Julie home each night after work.
By the end of her second week with Marty, Julie began to feel like an old hand in the food tent. She had made many casual friends among the men hungry for a decent woman’s company, but could not help but feel a great disappointmen
t when she failed to uncover a clue to her father’s whereabouts. Despite her failure, she refused to harbor thoughts that he might be dead.
Julie was exhausted that night when she and Wong Li left the food tent for home. The scant few blocks to the boarding house seemed like miles. There was a definite chill in the air and Julie pulled her warm cape tightly about her slim shoulders. Beside her, the taciturn Chinaman seemed impervious to the cold in his long colorful Chinese robe. The din coming from inside the dance halls and saloons was ear shattering and Julie was more than thankful that Mae’s house was in a quieter section of town. She was equally grateful for Wong Li’s protection, for since coming to San Francisco she learned that Rod was not exaggerating when he described the lawless situation existing in California. In 1850, the year that California became a state, more than fifty-thousand unsolved murders occurred, Julie learned.
It surprised Julie how often of late she thought of Rod. She had known him such a short time yet he had made a great impact on her life. She couldn’t help but wonder what might have become of them if he wasn’t obligated to return to his betrothed. Given the chance, would they ultimately have come to love one another? She realized it wouldn’t be difficult to love the tall, handsome caballero. There were times even now … But she mustn’t think of that. It was too late for them. Rodrigo Delgado wasn’t for her, as Rod had so carefully pointed out.
Julie came out of her reverie to find that she was nearly home. She and Wong Li were just passing an extremely dark alley whose shadowy depths always made Julie nervous when disaster struck. Not even Wong Li’s considerable knowledge of martial arts was able to prevent what happened, for the little man was struck from behind by an unseen assailant wielding a thick club. Without a sound he fell heavily to the ground. Julie opened her mouth to scream, but all except a muted squeak was stifled when a gag was rudely thrust between her open lips. Then she was dragged into the deserted alley and thrown into the bed of a horse-drawn wagon waiting nearby. Before she knew what was happening her hands and feet were tightly bound and a smelly canvas thrown over her body. The suffocating gag drastically cut off her air supply and the stifling canvas added the final insult. Great waves of dizziness surged around her and she sank into a deep void as blackness engulfed her. But not before she recognized the ugly face and leering grin of Brute Kelly!”
