“Christy.” A firm voice spoke behind her and she whirled around. Gordon Townsley stood with his feet planted wide and fists resting on his hips. “You are neglecting your duties. I don’t pay you to stand around fraternizing with the customers.” He jutted his chin toward Nevada. “Especially when they’re not paying ones.”
It was all Christy could do not to quit on the spot, now she knew another job waited outside these four walls. She bit her lip and glanced at Sara as she walked by again. “I apologize, Gordon. I’ll be right there.” She turned her back on the manager and smiled at Nevada. “Thank you for bringing me word.”
Townsley stepped to her side and held out his arm. “Allow me to escort you back to your table, Miss Grey.” His stiff voice left little doubt as to the state of his mind.
She touched her fingers to the fabric but refused to hold on to his arm. This man didn’t own her, and she wouldn’t allow him to think he did. All she wanted right now was to get out of this dress and into her own clothing. March out this door and not look back.
But if she left, Townsley would make sure she never got close to Sara again. No, she’d bide her time a little longer and pray somehow her luck would turn.
Nevada watched Christy walk beside Townsley to the roulette wheel, wishing there was more he could do for Christy and Sara. Two lovely women, both trapped in a situation not of their liking, and more than likely, not of their choosing. He scanned the room, wondering what to do now. Head back to the Russ House and see if Nellie needed anything done? Or hang around here in case he might be of use to Christy or Sara?
A movement across the gambling floor caught his attention and he stared, not certain he believed what he saw. A big-boned man with a scar on his cheek pulled out a chair and sat at a table with another man already seated—two people he had reason to remember. He tugged his hat down over his eyes and sauntered closer, making sure to stay out of their line of sight. Curiosity nudged him on and he settled into a chair sitting back to back with Jake, the leader of the gang who’d robbed the stage.
At first the scraping of chairs, clink of coins, and low voices of gamblers playing poker and faro at nearby tables drowned out any hope of hearing the conversation behind him. He’d noted the intensity of the two men as he’d approached the table and hoped their focus would stay on whatever drew them here. After several minutes, Nevada tipped back his chair and managed to block out the noise surrounding him. He narrowed his concentration on the outlaw now less than a foot away.
A fist slammed down on the adjoining table, and a voice rose in irritation. “I don’t care what you think, Jake, I need more money. This town’s eatin’ up every dime I got from the last job.”
“Quiet.” Jake hissed the words. “I’ve got somethin’ in mind, but you got to keep shut about what I tell you. I’ll need another man in on the job.”
“Good.” The first outlaw grunted his satisfaction. “I’ll find somebody. When you gonna pull this off?”
“The shipment comes through in about ten days or so. Tell your friend to get in touch with me here, or over at the Golden Eagle.”
“So what are we hittin’? What’s my cut?”
Nevada strained to hear the answer, his pulse racing. If he could stop what appeared to be yet another holdup, he might be able to walk around town without fear of arrest. If either of these two were picked up for the stage robbery without his intervention, they might decide to implicate him in the deal.
Sara appeared next to his chair, carrying a tray laden with drinks. “Hi there, Nevada.” A shy smile lit her pretty face. She leaned over and lowered her voice. “I know you don’t drink this stuff, but I thought you might want to have a glass in front of you, just the same. The boss don’t like it when men sit around takin’ up table space without buyin’ anything.”
He tipped his chair forward and stifled a groan. Not the best timing. “Sure. Give me one of whatever you’ve got there.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a coin, tossing it onto her tray. “Thanks for watching out for me, Sara.”
“Anytime, Cowboy.” She set the glass of amber liquid in front of him and moved away.
The scrape of chairs at the adjoining table caused him to moan. He’d missed the chance to hear their plans. If he’d understood correctly, Jake hung out here and at the Golden Eagle, and wanted to meet the new member of the group. Looked like he’d have to frequent this saloon for the next few days and hope he could figure out what they were up to.
Christy had worked a longer shift than usual, hoping she’d find a moment with Sara. Finally it came. Most of the customers had cleared out, and the bartender bent over a table on the far side of the room, scrubbing it down. Doc Holliday, Frank Leslie, and Gordon Townsley were nowhere in sight when Sara started across the room and headed for the staircase.
The girl walked like a woman three times her age, her slow gait and slumped body indicating her fatigue. She didn’t look back at the room but gripped the banister and hauled herself up the first step.
Christy moved swiftly to cover the distance and walked up beside her, touching Sara’s hand.
The young woman gave a sharp start and recoiled. She turned frightened eyes on Christy, then released a sigh. “Oh. It’s you.”
“I’m sorry I worried you.” Christy drew back a bit. “I wanted to tell you something, if you have a minute?”
“I’m awful tired.” The dark circles under her eyes gave truth to her words.
“I won’t keep you long.”
“All right.” Sara waved at a table below the staircase. “Did you want to sit?” Exhaustion tugged at her features.
“No. I’ll walk you up, if that’s okay?”
Sara hunched a shoulder. “Sure.”
They traversed the stairs in silence and continued down the hall till Sara stopped outside a door. She turned weary eyes on Christy. “I need to ask you somethin’ important.”
“Of course, what is it?”
“Your brother, Joshua.” Sara clasped her hands in front of her waist and twisted her fingers together. “Is he gonna be all right?”
“You know Joshua?” New interest sharpened Christy’s gaze.
“Yes. He and I…that is…” A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “He used to come in and see me. He was the first man Townsley sent up for quite a while and…” She sighed and dropped her eyes.
Christy touched Sara’s hand. “You care for my brother?”
The girl nodded without looking up.
“Does he feel the same?”
Sara risked a glance, then shrugged. “I thought so at the time, but I don’t know for sure. Will he live, do you think?”
Christy’s mind raced at this new revelation. Sara and Joshua. Tendrils of hope wove their way through her heart. Joshua had never been responsible for anyone or anything. Maybe caring about Sara would be good for her brother. “Yes. The doctor believes he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Good.” A smile flashed across Sara’s face, then disappeared. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Christy extended her hand, wanting to hug the girl, but let it fall. She had no idea how her gesture would be received. They’d had so little time to talk since she’d arrived here. “To let you know I’m here for you. I want to be your friend, if you’ll let me.”
Sara’s eyes turned wary. “Why? I’m not important.”
“That’s not true.” Christy shook her head. “Like I told you when we first met, I understand and I care. That’s all.”
“You don’t even know me.” Sara reached for the door handle and gripped it tight.
“I know I don’t, but I want to, especially if you care for Joshua.” Should she tell the girl about the job offer? Practically every moment since Nevada shared the news with her, she’d thought about it, and wondered if there was any way Sara could work there too. Christy hesitated, then plunged forward. “I’ve been told about another job that doesn’t require working a gaming table or serving drinks. Maybe I could ask if the
owner would hire you too.”
Sara released a sharp laugh. “Won’t happen, Miss Christy. I got a bad reputation in this town. Men talk, you know.” She dropped her gaze to the floor and scuffed a toe against the polished boards. “Thanks for askin’, but I think I belong here.”
Christy knew that look and her heart hurt in a way it hadn’t in years. She’d seen her sister Molly give up after being subjected to men like the ones running this saloon. Why, even though she was a strong woman herself, she’d been prone to spells of doubt and despondency, wondering if there would ever be a way out. “I’m not in a hurry to leave, either. If I can help you in any way while I’m working here, I’d like to.”
Sara gave a sharp bob of her head. “I don’t know what kind of help you can give me, but I could use a friend. Thank you.” A wistful look crossed her solemn features. “He said the same thing.”
“He?” Christy’s mind drew a blank. Could Sara be referring to her boss, Gordon Townsley, or someone else? Surely she couldn’t mean…Nevada? Her thoughts raced to the claim he’d made about helping Sara. She’d tossed it aside at the time, assuming it to be yet another excuse for poor choices.
“The cowboy who stayed in my room that night. He came to protect me.” With those words, Sara slipped inside her room, closing the door softly behind her.
Christy turned to go, alarm warring with elation in her breast. Nevada had told the truth. More than anything she wanted to leave this place and start over in a decent establishment. She wasn’t even sure why lending a hand to Sara felt so important, but the emotion wouldn’t be denied.
A picture of Joshua flashed before her mind. Rescuing Sara might convince her brother to make a decent life for himself, if he actually cared for the girl. Christy would have to find a way to get the young woman away from here first, although right now she didn’t see how that could happen. She’d commit to staying at the saloon if that’s what it took.
Her heart told her she’d chosen the right path, no matter how much it might hurt her to do so.
Chapter Fifteen
Christy slipped upstairs at the end of her long workday, wanting nothing more than to change from her gown and into her own simple attire before heading home. Three weeks of working in this place had dragged beyond measure. If only she could accept the offer at Nellie’s boardinghouse, but that position must surely be gone after a week and a half. She blew out an exasperated breath as her thoughts turned to Sara. Gordon Townsley or one of his strong-armed men made sure the girls didn’t interact during work hours, and it wasn’t often Sara was around when Christy’s shift ended. She’d barely spoken to the girl beyond an occasional sentence, but from what she’d been able to tell Sara didn’t appear happy.
Christy paused outside Sara’s room, wondering if she dared knock. The young woman had looked tired and almost bedraggled recently and could easily be sleeping. Christy moved on, but a disturbing noise slowed her pace. Sobs emanated from the other side of the door.
Christy retraced her steps, all hesitation gone. She rapped lightly and waited, then tried again a little harder.
A muffled voice came from the far side. “Go away. I’m not workin’ now.”
Christy dropped her hand to her side. “It’s me. Christy. I won’t bother you if you’re tired.”
Footsteps drew close and the door swung open. Sara peered out, her eyes swollen and red, with traces of tears still evident on her cheeks. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I thought—” Another sob choked off her words and she stepped back, motioning Christy inside. “Please.”
As soon as the door shut behind her, the dam broke. Sara flung herself at Christy as tears rained down.
Christy led the young woman to the edge of the bed, but Sara recoiled. They moved to the small settee pushed against the wall and sank onto the firm surface. “There, there. It can’t be as bad as all that.” Christy patted her shoulder, knowing full well her words were hollow. She’d seen some of the men the girl was forced to entertain and could only imagine the horrors Sara had endured.
Sara grabbed the hem of a skirt draped over the arm of the settee and wiped her cheeks. “I’m afraid it is. Worse in fact.” She stood and dug through a drawer in the nearby bureau, withdrawing a handkerchief and blowing her nose.
Christy waited for her to return to her perch, then stroked the girl’s blond curls. “Can you tell me what’s bothering you?”
Sara’s face crumpled again, but she forced herself to sit straighter. “I think—” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not sure how to say this.” A faint flush crept into her cheeks. “I’ve been sick in the mornings for a while now.”
“Do you need a doctor?” A faint sense of alarm shot through Christy.
Sara was quiet for a minute, then said, “I don’t think so. Not for a few more months, anyway.”
Comprehension dawned on Christy, and she leaned against the back of the settee, feeling as though she’d been walloped. “Oh, my. Oh, my!”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Any idea when your little one will arrive?”
Sara winced and dropped her head. “I’m not sure, but I think maybe around Thanksgiving.”
Christy jumped to her feet. “We have to get you away from here. You can’t keep allowing these…men”— she spat the last word—“to paw you every night.”
Sara shrank back as though she’d been slapped. “It don’t happen every night, Miss Christy. Besides, I got nowhere else to go.”
“Do you have any family who would take you?” Christy tried to calm the outrage swelling in her breast. She’d frightened the girl and possibly hurt her, which certainly wasn’t her intent. How many times in past years had she seen this same scenario play out? Too often for her peace of mind.
Her head still bowed, Sara remained quiet for several moments, then murmured a soft negative. “They’re all dead. ’Sides, they’d be so ashamed if they knew what I stooped to.” A whimper stole past her parted lips. “I’m glad my ma didn’t have to see me here. It would break her heart. There ain’t nobody who cares anymore, not even God.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Christy soothed. “I know what happens to you isn’t your fault.” She stroked the young woman’s hair.
Sara raised eyes that looked older than her seventeen years.
“Some friends I love very much told me something that might help. They said God always hears us, no matter what our circumstances, if only we’ll call out to Him.” Somehow speaking the words out loud made them feel real for the first time. Christy’s heart beat faster, and a new sense of hope rose in her spirit.
Sara bit her lip. “That won’t work for me. You got no idea some of the things they make me do here. I’m dirty, like an old dishrag left to mold next to the slop bucket. God won’t take notice of me.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong.” Excitement colored Christy’s voice, and she leaned forward, tucking a strand of hair behind Sara’s ear. “Jesus loves everyone. Did you know He forgave the men who nailed Him to the cross? He said they didn’t understand what they were doing.”
“He did that?”
“Yes, I read it in the Bible.”
Sara’s shoulders slumped. “But I guess that’s different. No reason for Him to forgive me when I knew it was sin to come to a place like this.”
Christy struggled to find the words to explain. This was all so new to her. She’d heard sermons preached over the years but hadn’t taken in a lot of what was said. She searched her memory in hopes of finding something to help. “You didn’t have a choice, Sara.”
“Don’t matter. I still sinned.”
A phrase Christy had heard popped into her mind. “Sara, none of us are perfect, but God loves us the way we are. He’s the only one who can change us.” Christy suddenly realized all the words she’d spoken to Sara were actually directed at herself. All these years she’d thought she had to be perfect to accept God’s love. She thought she needed to clean up her life before God
would want anything to do with her. Peace swept over her heart. All this time she was the one needing to be redeemed. In trying to help Sara, a door had opened in her mind and God’s truth rushed in.
Sara looked confused. “Then why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You told me that day on the street you used to work someplace like this years ago and you’d changed. If you believe all that about God and forgiveness, why did you come here? This is a bad place, full of sin and darkness. And believe me, Gordon Townsley won’t keep you safe from it forever.”
The room seemed to whirl as the starkness of her question left Christy speechless for a minute. Finally, she said, “My family needs the money.” She whispered the words, but they left her feeling hollow inside. Had she tried hard enough to find something else, or had she returned to the one thing she knew because it was easy? Or could it be Ma’s lack of belief in her that convinced Christy she’d never rise above her family name?
She’d fallen into the same trap many women had over the centuries—allowing someone else’s poor opinion and circumstances to dictate her actions.
Christy wanted to rail against the injustice of this young woman’s plight, while her intuitive side wondered if there could be a deeper reason she’d landed here. She touched Sara’s cheek and turned the girl toward her. “Forgive me. I know you need money too.”
Sara twisted her lips in a half smirk. “Yeah, that’s what sends most of us girls to these places.”
Christy leaned forward. “I think there’s another reason I came that I’m beginning to understand. There’s a lot I still don’t know about God and the way He works, but I think He may have sent me here for you.”
Sara’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? He wouldn’t do anything like that for me.”
“But He would. I never saw it before. I always thought God forgave good people, but a friend told me He came to save sinners. I’ve seen and done some bad things, Sara—worse than what you’ve been through. All the things my friends told me are true. I didn’t understand before.” She shook her head. It had taken so many years of ignoring God, but He’d finally gotten her attention through this young girl. “God loves you. He really does.”
Love Finds You in Tombstone, Arizona Page 15
