She fished out the sheet music Alf Rearden had given her and studied the songs until her eyes grew heavy. When the words and notes blurred, she put the pages away and snuggled down in bed. It had been a long day, but she couldn’t wait until sunrise to accept Alf’s offer. From the dim orange highlights filtering through the tattered curtains, she didn’t have long to wait.
* * * *
“So, Mr. Rearden, you’re certain all I have to do is sing?” Odessa stood next to the piano, her hands shaking.
Reeking of spirits, Alf Rearden hunched on the piano stool and peered up at her through red eyes. Stubbly whiskers cast a dark hue to his cheeks and chin, and his hair matted on one side. He sighed. “One thing you’ll learn quite soon, Miz Clay, is that we don’t get up at the crack of dawn when we’ve played all night.”
She clasped her hands together and smiled. “I’m sorry to wake you so early, but I wanted to make sure I get the job. You indicated others might be interested.”
He scratched his chest, wiggling the curly hairs peeking over the neckline of his yellowed nightshirt. “The job is yours. Be here tonight around eight o’clock, and—”
“Tonight?” She widened her eyes.
He made a sweeping gesture of the empty room. “As you can see, there isn’t much going on during the day. Cowboys and miners generally work all day and come here to relax and have a little fun. From now on, get used to sleeping during the day and singing most of the night.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “I never imagined this wouldn’t be a daytime position.”
He cocked his chin. “Little lady, have you ever been around a saloon before?”
“Oh, heavens no.” She shook her head. “My pa forbade me to go near one, although I always wondered what the inside looked like.”
She turned and studied the long counter, cluttered with empty glasses and bottles. Near the floor, a metal rail ran the bar’s length, hidden in places by brass spittoons in need of cleaning. A picture of a half naked woman hung on the far wall. Cheeks hot, Odessa yanked her attention back to her new employer. “Are there any other directions you wish to give me?”
“Just gussy yourself up and be here… and learn the words to those songs I gave you.”
How gussied did he mean? She only owned the dress she wore and one other. Maybe he noticed she’d forgotten to brush her hair. She splayed her fingers through the long strands, attempting to smooth them. “I-I was in a rush to get here this morning—”
Alf knuckled a half-lidded eye. “Jes fix yourself up nice. I know you ain’t one of the bar whores trying to earn a man’s wages for a roll in the hay, but...”
Odessa covered her gaping mouth.
“Sorry if I shocked you.” He yawned. “If you don’t have no more questions, I’d like to go back to bed.”
“One more thing.” She lowered her gaze and smoothed her skirt. “Do I need to be concerned about my safety?”
His pant legs peeked out from under his nightshirt when he stood and plodded over to the bar. Placing a sock-clad foot on the railing, he reached over and grabbed a glass from behind the counter, then emptied a whiskey bottle into it.
“You must be the reason for the visitor I had right before I went to bed.” He tipped his glass up and swallowed. “Some sandy-haired fella, tall and sort of lanky. He didn’t mention your name, but intimated he’d hold me responsible if anything happened to my new singer. I was half asleep and near drunk so I didn’t make much of it.”
Heat crept up her neck. “Oh, that’s my friend, Zach. Don’t pay mind to him. Just because I rode into town with him, he seems to think he has claim to me. I assured him you’ll keep me perfectly safe.”
“Safe… yeah, sure.” He emptied his glass and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Nothing to fear, missy. I’ll make certain no one bothers you. Now if you don’t mind, I need my sleep.”
A noise drew her attention and she glanced over her shoulder. A Chinese man in a straw hat swept the floor, while another with slanted eyes cleared the bar. Both kept their heads down and remained silent.
Odessa swiveled her gaze back to Alf. “Thank you for the opportunity to work for you, Mr. Rearden. I’ll be here promptly at eight.”
She shuffled through the swinging doors, not feeling at all assured that Alf Rearden would be her protector. Something about him was different from their first meeting. Obviously, drinking did change a man, like Granny had once told her. Still, what could happen in a barroom filled with people? Was she worrying because Zach made such an issue of her working in a saloon?
“I’ll be fine,” she muttered. She lifted her chin and smoothed her skirt. Zach was wrong and she’d prove it.
She headed for the boarding house. As she prepared to step over a gaping board in the sidewalk, a body lunged from the alley between buildings and blocked her way. “Good mornin’, little lady.” He doffed his sweat-stained hat.
His body odor assailed her nostrils. She stepped back, surveying the stranger. Her heart thundered beneath her skin. Dirt and dust covered his clothing, gnarls matted his beard and scraggly long hair. Tobacco discolored his teeth, mainly the front two that resembled those she’d seen in a horse’s mouth.
With a nod, she tried to step around him, but he shuffled into her path. “I said, good mornin’.” His beady eyes held a menacing look. His hands looked as though he hadn’t washed them in weeks.
She glanced over her shoulder, hoping, no, praying, for someone to help. The nearest person was at the far end of the street. With her eyes downcast, she tried again to bypass the man in front of her. He side-stepped to block her again.
“How’s ‘bout a little kith.” His words slurred and his fingers bit into her skin as he grasped her shoulders and pulled her closer.
His fetid breath washed over her. She wrinkled her nose and turned her face. “Please, sir, let me go.”
“Not right yet. Just one kith for good ol’ Vern and…”
“Please, I beg you. Don’t do this.” She planted both palms against his chest and pushed.
His arms drifted down her shoulders and encircled her waist. Odessa craned backwards, but she was no match for his strength. Fear jumbled her mind and froze a scream in her throat.
No matter how much she wiggled and twisted, he maintained a tight grasp. His lips loomed closer to the side of her face.
“C’mon, girlie, give uth a kith.”
Slobbery lips brushed her cheek, inching toward her mouth despite her arching away. Odessa clawed at his whiskered face.
“You’re the sickest looking lot of sheriffs I ever seen.” —Tom Horn’s comments as he mounted the gallows.
Chapter Fifteen
“Yeow.” The drunk slapped Odessa’s hands away from his face, then captured her wrists. He jackknifed her arms behind her back, his puckered mouth still intent on stealing a kiss.
Helpless as a baby bird fallen out of its nest, she grimaced with pain. How dare this drunken sot manhandle her! Anger thawed her scream, but her captor released her so abruptly, she tottered sideways into the building and sagged against the wooden storefront. Her mouth gaped.
Zach stood in front of her. The veins in his neck bulged and his face burned redder than a glowing ember. “You son-of-a-bitch,” he yelled as he pummeled the drunk. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll—”
She’d seen Zach upset before, but never this angry. What if he kept beating the man and… “Zach, stop!” She lunged forward and grabbed his upper arm, clinging like a cocklebur.
He paused, arm drawn back, fist clenched. His other hand gripped the disoriented man’s collar. Blood poured from the stranger’s nose and mouth. One side of his face had already started to swell.
“Please don’t hit him again.” She searched Zach’s blue eyes for compassion. “You’re gonna kill him.”
“Are you all right?” Zach’s gaze roamed her from head to toes. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “I’m not certain he would’ve. He’s just drunk.” Odessa crossed her arms and massaged where the man’s grip still burned.
“Are you kidding?” Zach spat at the man on the ground then turned an icy stare to her. “This is an example of the men you’ll be around if you take that job at the saloon. Are you still so sure you can take care of yourself?”
Odessa lowered her arms, and standing to her full height, gathered her skirt in her fists and squeezed. She met his cocky gaze. “Your continued insistence that I can’t take care of myself is insulting. I appreciate that you came to my rescue again, but I highly doubt anyone will foist themselves on me in front of a room full of people.” She did a quick side-step. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some songs to learn.”
She relaxed her stiff fingers and kept her head high as she walked to the boarding house. Zach swore as she walked away, but she didn’t give him the pleasure of glancing back.
* * * *
Zach tensed his jaw to stop the string of obscenities begging to be spewed. Damn, she was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. He rubbed the back of his neck. Sleeping upright on the boarding house sofa after their argument had left him with a crick he couldn’t shed.
His gaze followed her brisk strides down the walkway before he dipped his chin and massaged his temples. How did one fight such sassiness? Maybe it was time to wash his hands of her. Let her see what lay in store for a young, single woman. Besides, at the moment, he had more important matters pending.
Despite a shudder at the thought of abandoning her, he dug into his pocket and retrieved the note left for him at the boarding house desk. He unfolded the wrinkled paper and eyed the scrawling penmanship:
Meet me at the livery as soon as you can. I trust you don’t want a repeat of my previous welcome.
The mere hint of the thrashing in the alley made his stomach hurt. He waited until Odessa bustled into the boarding house, then stepped over the unconscious fellow on the sidewalk and headed toward the whitewashed barn at the end of the street. How much longer before the clerk demanded payment for another night’s accommodation? If Zach had his way, he wouldn’t have to shell out anything other than the cost for her stage ride home.
His mind settled and he focused on the building ahead. Both stable doors had been pushed closed, though one was slightly ajar. The overwhelming stench of manure drifted through the crack, and he wondered why the building had been secured rather than open for airing. Shouldn’t someone be mucking the stalls? He peeked inside the dim interior, and unable to see anything or anyone, made a spanning glance of the outside area. No one stirred. The hairs on his neck rose.
The note had requested his presence at the livery, but where? He wasn’t even sure who he was supposed to meet. Hopefully not the ruffian who pummeled him.
“Johnson?” A voice from inside summoned.
Zach stepped from the bright sunshine into the near dark. His hand hovered over his holster. “Yeah, I’m here. Where are you?” He blinked several times.
An imposing figure stepped from the shadows. “Relax, no need to look so edgy. It’s about time you showed up.”
The man stood a good head taller and appeared broad shouldered. As Zach’s vision adjusted, a full scruffy beard became apparent, but the fellow’s eyes remained hidden beneath the low brim of his hat.
“Sorry.” Zach willed the tension from his shoulders and clasped his fingers together, cracking his knuckles. “I ran into an unforeseen problem that I can’t seem to shake.”
The man’s loud guffaw drifted across the stalls, frightened the animals and set off a symphony of whinnies and snorts. “So I heard. The offer you received earlier still stands. We’ll be glad to take her off your hands. She’s a looker, that one. By the way, name’s Pete.” He crossed his arms over his broad belly and stood with a wide stance.
Zach fisted his hands at his sides. Did the man actually think he’d turn Odessa over to them? His jaw tensed. “No need. She’s leaving on the Phoenix stage tomorrow.” He’d hogtie and gag her if he had to in order to save her from her own determination.
A shift in the sun splattered the stable interior with light. Pete scratched at his beard and displayed a devious grin. “Tomorrow, that so? Just happens to be the coach carrying the miners’ wages. Guess we’ll get more than the cash we intended.”
Dread sank like a horseshoe in the pit of Zach’s stomach. Words failed him. He had every intention of forcing Odessa to board the stage, but now he’d have to rethink his plans. He’d cursed her pigheadedness and now that stubborn streak seemed a blessing.
Still, Zach intended to follow through on his previous agreement and get the money he needed. The fate of his pa’s ranch depended on him, and he wasn’t about to let his father down. He’d deal with Odessa in due time, but now he needed information. He narrowed his gaze on the bearded man. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The stage is scheduled to leave around three, but it sometimes runs late. Meet me and the rest of the boys here around one-thirty and we’ll ride out and find a good place to make the heist.”
“The rest of the boys?”
“Yeah, T.J. and Burt. You already met Axel.”
Zach’s hand rested on his midsection. “I recall our meeting all too well.” Either T.J. or Burt had to be the man he’d met during the card game in Phoenix. They’d never exchanged names.
“Well, be here on time, and don’t forget, I call the shots.”
“Yes sir.” Zach nodded. The fact that a busy livery had come to a dead standstill during the day showed that the man had clout… or else instilled fear in anyone who knew him. Zach wasn’t about to be the one to ruffle his feathers and find out.
* * * *
A piece of sheet music in her hand, Odessa sat on the bed and stared at the words to “The Last Rose of Summer.” She cleared her throat and crooned:
’Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone,
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone!
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.
She had no knowledge of the tune or the music, but how hard could following a piano be? She saw no problem using the sheets as reminders until she became familiar with the words. Surely, Mr. Rearden didn’t expect her to remember them all at once. A few of the songs, she recognized, but most she didn’t. Some had lyrics that bordered on naughty, and that niggled at her. Granny wouldn’t much like this whole idea, but… Odessa’s stomach knotted at the thought of singing in front of strangers. Still–she had no other choice unless she wanted to swallow her foolish pride and rely on Zach again.
Her knuckles whitened as she crinkled the sheet music. Aware of her actions, she placed the page on the mattress and smoothed the paper. Destroying her employer’s property wouldn’t make a very good first impression.
She stomped her foot on the floor. “Dang you, Zach Johnson. Why couldn’t you just take me to my aunt’s house?”
As if on cue, he clomped into the room and slammed the door. His gaze drifted to the sheet music spread on the bed and his mouth tightened.
Odessa squared her shoulders. “Yes, I still intend to sing tonight.”
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Where do you plan to sleep?”
“What do you mean?” She sat up straighter.
“Remember, I only had money enough to pay for one night here. Our
time is up.”
The blood drained from her face. “W-well, I…”
He enjoyed seeing her speechless for once.
She stood. “I guess I should gather my few things, then and—”
“No need.” Being just plain mean wasn’t his nature. He unclasped his arms and smiled. “Since you’re so adamant about staying here, I used the money intended for your fare to pay for two more nights.”
“Then what?” She raised a brow and sagged back onto the bed.
What could he say to convince her she didn’t need that blasted saloon job? How would he account for showing up with enough money to leave town? Any true explanation meant he’d have to reveal his dishonest plan, and he’d rather shoot himself in the foot than face the look of disappointment in her eyes. She’d been through enough.
“What about the job you came here to do?” Before he answered her first question, she launched another at him.
He dipped his chin and took a breath. “I’m supposed to… to start tomorrow.” He wasn’t actually lying, just stretching the truth a bit. Still, the words left a bad taste in his mouth. He raised his gaze to her. “Maybe I can get an advance on my salary.”
He crossed to the bed, sat beside her and took her hand. “Won’t you please reconsider taking this singing job? I still have enough money for a few meals, and…”
She pulled away and stood. The warmth of her flesh still lingered on his palm. He stifled a grin at the childlike way she plodded across the room in her bare feet and settled in the rocking chair. He hadn’t noticed she’d shed her shoes and stockings. His gaze locked on her dainty toes and trim ankles. His heartbeat stuttered.
“What if you can’t get an advance?” she asked. “I understand that besides the money Mr. Rearden will pay me, sometimes customers also show their appreciation with cash. If we both work, we can earn twice as much.”
Frustration built in Zach’s chest like clouds gathering for a thunderstorm. He clenched his teeth. Clearly, she hadn’t listened to a single warning word he’d said. Unless he was ready to admit to becoming an outlaw, he had no choice but to let her find out on her own what type of men frequented saloons. Or maybe another talk with Alf Rearden was in order. Zach flashed his palms in surrender. “I guess we’ll just take it a day at a time.”
Odessa Page 10
