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Winning the Lady (Book 4 of the Red River Valley Brides)

Page 8

by Hestand, Rita


  "Your husband, who might that be?"

  "Gil Davis." She said his name like a prayer.

  "Have you been married long?" the woman asked.

  "No. Not at all, just a little over three months in fact."

  Trish suddenly realized how little time she had been with Gil. Her feelings had changed considerably since she was lost in a poker game. She could easily be setting herself up for a real heartbreak.

  "My husband likes me to dress well," she tried to sound casual about it.

  "Lucky you." The lady winked at her as she waved her goodbye.

  Trish walked into the poker parlor of the hotel, she spotted Gil already heavy into a game. He spotted her and winked. Every man at the table glanced at her, and every man took a second look.

  Trish glanced down self-consciously. She was rarely self-conscious, but their stares intimidated her to some extent. Thank goodness, she didn't have a thing out of place. As a dance hall girl, she had been looked at, but not always admiringly so.

  Trish went upstairs and checked herself in the mirror. She stared at herself in the mirror. She'd never dressed this nice in her life and it gave her heart a lift. Her hat matched, and the huge green feather attached to the rim of her hat made the dress stand out from other women. On the outside, she projected an elegant lady. On the inside, she was a mass of mush.

  Still, she was able to put on a smile and joined Gil at the table. The gleam in his eyes spoke more than words as she sat beside him and covered his hand with her own. She had gotten in a habit of touching his hand when she arrived at the table at Gil's instruction to let the others know that she belonged to him. Now she saw the reason for it. As long as they understood she belonged to him, they would not press for her attention.

  All the men tipped their hats to her, and it didn't take but a game for them to accept her as part of the poker party.

  "You know Gil, I don't blame you for keeping her close. If I had a wife that pretty I wouldn't let her out of my sight either." One of the gentlemen said.

  Gil glanced at her, squeezed her hand and said, "Sometimes there are things more valuable than gold."

  "Were she mine, I'd hide her from the world." One of the other gentlemen said.

  "I find that beauty only enhances the game." Gil smiled. "You won't find us objecting," another added.

  Most of these gentlemen had more money than they knew what to do with. They could easily afford to sit in fancy hotel parlors every night and smoke, drink, and play poker to their hearts content. There were seldom bad losers in these games either. A real gentleman knew how to lose.

  ~*~

  Rarely did anyone question Gil as to his relationship with Trish, since she adorned his side all the time. It was accepted that she was either his wife, or his property, but he always handled it with dignity. Gil didn't consider Trish his property. Although he maintained the authority in the relationship, he valued her contributions.

  By keeping their relationship on a business level, it prevented any scandalous behavior on either of their parts.

  He had to admit though, deep down, he had been tempted many times to touch his lips to hers. Especially since that was a valued part of her. She valued a kiss more than making love, and he found that amusing. But he knew that kissing her would cross the line. He'd respect that.

  Her body would entice any man, but he preferred to ignore the enticement and keep the companionship she seemed to crave.

  Yet somewhere in his deepest thoughts he knew that his feelings for her were deepening every day. His respect for her was above reproach. He thought of her as a prize companion, one he could not possess, yet enjoyed from a distance. He didn't have to. He liked things the way they were..

  As long as they kept their relationship platonic, things would go smoothly. And when the three years were up, he'd deal with that too.

  "Darling, I'm very tired today, I think I'll retire early, if you don't mind." She stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  She waited for his approval before moving away though.

  He looked up at her with surprise. "Aren't you feeling well?"

  "Just tired. Will you excuse me?"

  She looked a little pale, and he nodded, more a reflex than anything. "Of course, I'll be up directly."

  "Goodnight gentlemen." She nodded to the others with a smile.

  Gil enjoyed watching her, and another gentleman cleared his throat to distract him back into the game.

  Something told him he should fold and go after her, but he was in the middle of a big game and it would have been impolite to bow out at the time. So he stayed and played, winning a huge hand. Still, in the back of his mind, he fretted about her leaving, it wasn't like her at all.

  ~*~

  Trish saw the surprise on Gil's face, when she asked to be excused, but she wasn't feeling her best and she hadn't slept that well the night before because of the loud cowboys from the trial coming in and making all kinds of noise.She unlocked her door and went inside. Right now the settee looked inviting. She was about to undress for bed, when she heard a noise. She turned, and her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened, and she started to scream, when she recognized Eb in her room.

  He didn't hesitate to wrap his dirty hand over her mouth to smother her outcry. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her across the floor to the window. She recognized his odor, an unpleasant mixture of some kind of cologne over a sweaty body.

  "Now, you jest be real quiet and everything will be alright." He rasped.

  She struggled for only a moment until he tightened his hold of her.

  "You didn't fool me one bit. You ain't his wife. You're a whore. I seen you up Red River Valley way. You're the one they called cold. Oh, yeah, I remember you. I wanted you, but you wouldn't have nothing to do with me that night. Well, perhaps you'll rethink that. Now you jest settle down and behave yourself and we'll get along just fine," Eb muttered at her ear.

  Trish tried to bite his hand, but he kept it at an angle where she couldn't. Her struggles were in vain. Fear sliced through her. Panic set in as she found no outlet for release. Her eyes widened when he put his face against her cheek..

  Gil wouldn't be up for another hour. She shouldn't have left the game so early, but she had been unusually tired and decided to call it a night.

  Eb looked down the front of her dress and smiled. "This is gonna be one fun trip, girlie." He snarled.

  When she tried to jerk loose, he hit her across the jaw and knocked her out cold.

  ~*~

  Trish didn't wake up until nearly morning. She was no longer in their room,, but in some shabby room with no windows that stunk of dirty sheets and a musty pillow that had long since captured many slobbers. Light came from under the door.

  She tried to rise up, but she couldn't. She had no idea where she was. Trish couldn't remember what had happened.

  Ropes constricted her hands and feet, and no amount of squirming would change their position. The more she tried, the more the ropes burned her. He must have gagged her while she was out of it.

  Directly, Eb came inside the room.

  "Well, now, I see you are awake." He snarled once more.

  Memories flooded her mind. She left the game early because she felt so tired and had a headache. She opened the door to their room, and someone had grabbed her. Eb.

  "What are you going to do with me?" she asked when he finally took the rag from her mouth.

  "I'm gonna loosen you up a bit. I heard from others you was one cold fish. That you laid down for them, but you felt nothing. Now you'll let me ride you and you'll know a piece of heaven. It don't have to be unpleasant you know?"

  Trish wanted to laugh in his face, for she had perfected the art of laying down for a man and showing no feeling. However, the sneer on his face changed her plans. She could handle this. All she had to do was remember how to lie still and let the man do what he had to do. She had to calm down. It had been a while since she had been in this position. Her com
posure was lacking to some degree, and a lot of emotional upheaval had changed her to some extent. The last man who touched her in that way was Chester. But she didn't blame Chester as much, as he was her husband and she had withheld from him. He had a right. This man didn't.

  She kept telling herself it wasn't hard to be a whore. And she would not move against him no matter what he did.

  "Most men don't like a whore that ain't got no spunk to her. I know how to pleasure a woman. But you… you ain't got no feelings. I'm gonna give you feelings…."

  The front door slammed, and another man walked into the room and looked at them. She didn't recognize him. He was lean and tall, and his deep-set eyes stared at her hawk-like.

  "You won't get away with this," she threatened.

  "I wouldn't bet on that. I know this fella ain't your husband, no matter what he told those others. He's a just gambler, a two bit gambler. All he worries about is his money. He can replace you easy."

  Trish wanted to refute that, but it was true. Gil could easily replace her.

  "Are you holding me for ransom?" she asked, trying to find a clean spot on the pillow..

  "Hadn't given it much thought, really." Eb laughed. "I just want to teach that damn uppity gambler friend of yours you ain't exclusively his property. Any man can have you. I been watchin'. He's been dollin' you up and settin' you in front of all those others like you belonged to him. If they only knew what you really were, they'd be laughin' their heads off at the two of you."

  "If it's money you want, I've got a little…"

  "How much?" He asked.

  "A couple of hundred."

  "Ain't enough. Aint' nearly enough." Eb scratched himself and smiled at her.

  "I thought you were after Gil?" she asked, shocked.

  "Oh, I was… but then I remembered where I'd seen you. That's when I decided this would be better. It'll take him a while to find someone else to do what you do, but I'm sure he won't lose no sleep over it. And if he does, he'll be sorry, because I aim to kill him eventually too. I don't like no fancy pants gambler nor uppity whores."

  "Why do you wish us harm?" She stared into his ugly face.

  He seemed to study the question as he glanced at the other man. "Well, I'll tell ya, you act so high and mighty. You got to have that pretty boy gambler. Men like me, they don't count in your books, do they? Well, by the time he gets you back, he won't want you. I'll wear you out good. Yes, ma'am, I'll wear you out good."

  Fear ran up her back. If he would kill her, she wouldn't be afraid, but what he wanted to do scared her witless. He'd beat feelings out of her one way or another. She'd heard about men who tortured women for pleasure. Was he that kind of villain?

  She decided to fight him with scorn. "I'll never feel anything for you."

  "Lady, you best shut up for the time being. You ain't in no position to bargain with me."

  "What you gonna do with her?" the other man asked as he fidgeted.

  "That ain't none of your concern." Eb glanced at the man with a twisted kind of frown.

  "If you want to kill her, fine. But if you mean to have her, then you better take her somewhere else. I won't put up with that. I got a missus and some young'uns. I don’t want them around that kind of thing. So you need to just move on…"

  "I'll do the deciding around here, Noel, so you just settle down," Eb answered. "Look at her. She's all high and mighty as though she's better than us. Look at them fancy clothes she's wearin'. Her gambler man bought those. He bought her lots of clothes, lots of pretties. She's not a woman. She's one of them there ornaments. That's what she is. Well, I'm gonna make a woman out of her if it kills her."

  "No, lookie here. I don't want no crazy stuff around me, Eb. You git out of here with that whore. You hear me?"

  "Shut up, and do as you are told, and maybe I won't kill you too." Eb grabbed Noel by the head and slammed him down on the edge of the bed. "Now do you understand me?".

  Noel struggled a moment, then got very still, his eyes widening with a new terror.

  Eb released him.

  "If many has had her, why you want her? I'd think you'd find yourself a virgin," Noel said lowly.

  "Oh, I gotta reason. Yes, sir. You see I'm gonna make her eat dirt and then I'm gonna send her back to that gambler man, used and abused. When I get through with her, he won't want her."

  "I don't like it," Noel complained as he paced back and forth. "My missus won't like it either.".

  "I didn't ask you or your missus."

  "But my wife will be home directly. She ain't gonna put up with the likes of her bein' here. And she won't put up with you doin' what you say. She's a God fearin' woman, Eb."

  "If you don't shut up, I'll have her right in front of your kids on the kitchen table for all to see. Now shut up," Eb hollered.

  Noel fretted quietly for a while. He looked as though he were thinking about it. "You gonna let me have at her too?" Noel finally asked in a whisper.

  "What would your wife say?"

  Noel stared at Trish for a long moment. "Hell's belles, I wasn't gonna tell her. But…she might be worth findin' out." He licked his lips and moved to another part of the room, producing a jug of whiskey.

  Trish was devastated. All it took for men to act like animals was whiskey. She knew that very well. She remembered a whore getting cut up once because a cowboy found it amusing. Now she faced a similar fate.

  How had she ended up like this?

  Eb was right. Gil could find another woman. He'd forget about her in time. She wasn't that valuable to him. He was a peaceful man, most of the time. He wouldn't involve himself in this kind of thing. All she really had to worry about was herself.

  Doom settled in on her, as she watched the two men drink. Even though Eb wasn't smart enough to be fooled by logic, he was big and forceful, and he could make her life miserable.

  Perhaps she could get hold of a gun or knife.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gabe missed Trish the minute she went upstairs. He couldn't tell her he wanted her with him at all times. If she went upstairs alone, there had to be a good reason for it. He wanted to check on her, see if she was all right.

  Trish didn't know how good he felt having her with him, either. Trish had brought him luck, but it was more than that. It was times like these he had to admit that she was more to him than a lady by his side. She'd become a companion to him, a woman he could trust and a woman who trusted him, despite her previous doubts.

  So far, they had managed a platonic relationship. Even though they had confessed to each other. He fretted until he found himself folding and retiring from the game for the night. He'd never done that in his life. Given a good hand away… for a woman.

  He walked up the stairs slowly, almost anticipating something.

  As he entered the room, he glanced about. The big bed was empty. There were no clothes lying about. It looked like she hadn't even been there.

  He called her name through the darkness, but she didn't answer.

  His heartbeat quickened. Something crawled up his back. It was a sense of extreme danger. Not for himself, but for her.

  His senses kicked in. He sniffed. He could smell her perfume. It was the one luxury she permitted herself with her own money. He'd never told her how much he liked it. Women came and went in Gil's life, but Trish was different and he knew it. Still, the key to their relationship was not letting it go beyond companionship. She'd didn't totally trust him yet, and he wanted her to. Right now, she'd agreed to a three year relationship with him. She'd been his companion, his helper, but if he let emotions cloud their relationship, she might run away. Somehow he was going to gain her full trust and then maybe…

  He couldn't worry about that right now. He had to find her.

  He went downstairs and inquired of the desk clerk, "Excuse me, sir, but did you happen to see my wife leave?"

  The short, little man behind the desk shook his head. "No, sir, Mr. Davis. I haven't seen her all evening except when she went up
stairs, in that gown. No one could miss her in that beautiful dress. Even strangers enquired of who she was."

  "Yes, I guess they would," Gil murmured.

  "Something wrong?" the clerk asked, his eyebrows rising.

  Gil looked at the concerned man. "She retired early this evening, and now I can't find her. It doesn't look as though she's been in our room. There's no message…"

  The clerk glanced at their box and shook his head. "I don't know anything about it, sir. I'm sorry." His brow furrowed. "Surely she just went for a walk of fresh air or something."

  "Thank you, I hope you are right." Gil went back up the stairs.

  He could still smell her perfume, as though she had been there, but she hadn't changed clothes. The green dress was not put away. He went down to the dining room and inquired there. Nothing.

  Concern laced his brow. Time seemed to be his enemy.

  He went out on the street and stood staring out into the street to the other side.

  Very few were about this time of night.

  Panic began to set in.

  Gil went upstairs again and sat in the dark, staring out the window. She wouldn't just leave. There had to be another answer. Even if she had decided to call it quits and leave, she would have either faced him with it or left a note. No, there was something wrong. Something very wrong. Something she couldn't control.

  Trish felt an obligation to him, and he had used that to keep her near.

  The light in the sheriff's office caught his eye, and he decided to pay him a trip. As he crossed the street, his steps grew quicker, more urgent. His heart pounded like a cannon about to go off. Until now, he had managed to keep her safe from harm, but he had a gut feeling that this time he'd failed. What had he overlooked?

  He opened the door to the sheriff's office and invited himself in. A big set of cell keys hung on the far wall, and there were about three cells as best he could tell. There were some drunk-looking cowboys locked up. The sheriff was reared back in his chair when he walked in, and immediately he took his boots off his desk.

 

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