And that was how it started.
Trying to keep the hate out of her eyes, she said, "And I've thanked you for it many times, sir. I have worked hard in this fancy…club of yours for three months now. I should think my debt has been paid whether I sleep with you or not. I want to fetch my sister and go home."
New laughter regaled her. "Oh, my girl, your debt to me is much larger than you think. I didn't bring you here to be my maid."
She knew what he wanted from her. He'd made it clear the day they'd arrived in Wildcat Ridge. So far, the right moment to tell him she had no intention of meeting that demand had not arrived, with time running out. He'd tricked her by hanging onto part of her wages—for Regina's care, he said—so she never had enough to allow her to escape.
It didn't truly matter since she couldn't leave without Regina, who Mortimer had hidden from her. Each night she prayed someone had fed and tucked her in. Every hour of every day Cady's thoughts centered around how she could escape.
"The day after you give yourself to me is when your debt will be paid. Not a day sooner." Mortimer moved closer, taking his cigar from his mouth and allowing the smoke to blow in her face. "You'd like it, you know. You'd like feeling—"
"Mr. Crane!" She stamped her foot, wishing she could use it to knock him silly. "You will not talk to me that way. I may work in a brothel, but I'm not one of your 'doves'."
He stepped back, his face showing displeasure. "You will be. I'll make sure of that. At first, you'll accommodate only me, but eventually, you'll join the other girls in the parlor each evening to entertain gentlemen callers."
"That will never happen."
"No? We'll see. And forget any ideas you may have about running away to go find Regina. All I have to do is send a wire and she'll be gone. For good."
Cady stared at Mortimer in horror.
"Sir?" The manager, Franco Bennetti, stood in the sitting room doorway.
"What is it, man?" Mortimer glared at the dark, handsome Italian, his annoyance at being interrupted plain in his voice.
Cady didn't care about Franco or whatever his problem was. "You can't do that, Mr. Crane. You can't—"
"Shut up or—" He raised a threatening hand. "Go on, Franco. What is so important you had to interrupt us?"
"That order you placed at the mercantile has arrived, sir. Cady is the only one available to go fetch it," he said in his rich, Latin voice. "Thumbs is busy fixing the lock on the front door that drunk broke last night, and the girls are preparing for tonight, despite being shaken by last evening's debacle."
The drunk had busted in and almost succeeded in carrying off Leda. Would have, if not for Lach and his six-guns.
"All right." Mortimer looked at Cady. "You go to the mercantile. Come right back. No lollygagging, understand?"
Go to the mercantile? The fat rat had just threatened to kill Regina and she was to go to the mercantile as if her world hadn't just fallen apart? Her head spun, and pain knifed through her heart. How was she to function in any normal fashion after this latest blow? If only she dared to run away but she couldn't risk her actions causing her sister harm.
"Cady. Go," Mortimer snarled.
She looked into his ferret-like eyes and knew that arguing would win her nothing. It would only make him more stubborn, more hostile.
"Yes, sir. I'll go right now."
He patted her on the fanny as she turned to go. Cady hesitated, bit the inside of her cheek and walked stiff-backed from the room.
As she pulled her shawl from the hook by the back door, Franco came up, took hold of her chin and examined her face. For bruises, no doubt.
"I'm all right," she said.
He nodded. "He's arranged with the Crystal Café for them to make him liver and onions for tomorrow's noon meal. I'll arrange for you to pick it up. It will give you a chance to get out of the building and away from him for a few minutes."
"Thank you, Franco."
"It's the least I can do."
Garrick emerged from the hotel the following day and started up the boardwalk to the café. Up ahead, outside the Last Chance Saloon, two men struggled with a young woman trying to escape them. Unable to endure seeing a woman mishandled, he hurried over.
"Leave her alone, fellows," he said when he reached them. "Can't you see she isn't interested?"
A tall blond man with a shaggy reddish beard spun toward him with fists balled. "What business is it of yours, mister?"
Garrick elbowed his coat out of the way and rested his palm on the hilt of his Colt. "I don't like to see ladies abused."
"Aw, hell," said the second man, shaking his long, lank hair out of his face. "She ain't no lady. She works at a fancy bordello."
"I'm the maid," the woman said, shoving at the swarthy man who held her.
Garrick closed in on them. "Let go of her. Now."
"Eh? Says who?" the blond man asked. "Toothpick here ain't gonna hurt her. Just wants a kiss or two."
Toothpick laughed. "Or more."
"Well, you're not going to get it while I'm here," Garrick said.
"We'll see about that. Show 'im your fist, Scoby."
Garrick saw in Scoby's eyes the moment he decided to swing and ducked. He dealt his opponent a right uppercut, slammed the ruffian into the wall behind him and followed up with a blow to the gut.
Toothpick got into the act then, punching Garrick in the jaw. Garrick countered a second strike and kicked Scoby in the groin when he tried to attack from the side.
Scoby howled with rage and pain. "He ain't fightin' fair. Get him, Toothpick. Kill 'im."
"There'll be no killing done in my town." A man wearing a badge stepped between them. A woman behind him held a shotgun, a badge of her own pinned to her shirt.
"Stay outta this, Marshal," Scoby warned.
"The devil I will. Turn around and face the wall, hands up, or I'll let my deputy blow you to Kingdom Come."
"Aw, hell." Toothpick faced the wall. Scoby sent Garrick a last glower before doing the same.
Garrick tipped his hat to the couple. "You have my gratitude."
"Just doing my job," the marshal answered with a tilted smile. "I'm Aubrey Bowles. The termagant with the shotgun is my wife and deputy, Cordelia. We saw the situation when we stepped out of the jail, but you got here faster. Appreciate that."
"Don't like seeing women taken advantage of, is all." Garrick curved his mouth into a smiled and held out a hand which Marshal Bowles accepted.
The deputy asked the young woman if she wanted to press charges.
"Oh, no. I simply want to forget about it and be about my business."
"Come on, Deputy," the marshal said. "Let's get these varmints to the hoosegow. Won't hurt them to sit in jail for an hour or two to reconsider their behavior."
"Glad to." She yanked the smaller man around toward the jail and poked him in the back with her gun. "Get moving."
The marshal did the same with the taller man.
Garrick watched a few moments, rubbing his bruised knuckles, then headed for the café. The young lady he'd rescued had disappeared. Too bad. She had an intriguing face. Good bone structure. Beautiful dark hair he'd like to see loose and flowing around her face.
She worked at bordello?
To him, her claim of being the maid rang true. Why lie in a small town where everyone would know the truth? After his noon meal, he'd check out the salon. Sounded like a place he might find July. Plus, the owner might like some cabinet cards to advertise his business.
A middle-aged couple exited the café as Garrick entered. He glanced around for an empty table and saw the woman he'd tried to help standing at the counter. He caught her eye and smiled. She glanced down, appearing shy. Or embarrassed.
Garrick walked over. "Hello. I'm glad to see you suffered no physical harm."
"Oh, I… Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for coming to my aid." Her gaze skipped around the room as if checking to see if anyone had noticed.
An attractive woman peered out from th
e kitchen doorway. "Cady, Mr. Crane's dinner will take about fifteen minutes. Is that all right?"
"I suppose so. Thank you, Garnet." The girl, Cady, looked uncertain, even a little worried. Would she be in trouble if she didn't get her order sooner? At least now he knew her name.
"While you're waiting," he said, "would you do me the honor of letting me buy you a meal?"
"Oh, no. I couldn't allow you to do that. You don't even know me."
"I know your name is Cady, and you're a maid. I'm Garrick Brant."
She tilted her head as if to study him. "I truly appreciate what you did for me out there, but you should know that I work at the Gentlemen Only Salon and people seeing you with me will talk about you."
"It's a pleasure to meet you and being talked about doesn't concern me." He took off his hat and coat and hung them on a rack. "What is the Gentlemen Only Salon? A fancy men's club or a bordello?"
Her cheeks flushed. "The latter, I'm afraid. It doesn't do much business these days, what with the mine having been destroyed, but that is its purpose."
"I heard about the mine and could imagine the agony that those left behind suffered." He looked at the menu written on a board behind the counter, made his choice and looked back at Cady.
Exquisite facial structure. Well-defined lips a lovely shade of rose. Smokey blue eyes outlined by thick dark lashes. He spied a hint of mystery in them, secrets withheld and a lot of pain. He wanted to know more. "Were you here when that happened? The mine collapse?"
"No. I've been here only a few months. Mr. Crane… That's Mortimer Crane who owns the Gentlemen Only Salon, hired me to clean for him. He owns the mine and much of the town."
"I see. Won't you sit down with me? I'm weary of standing."
"Oh, I do apologize." Again, she scanned the room. "I guess it would be all right. I'll be leaving momentarily anyway."
He led her to a table at the back and pulled out a chair for her. "Are you alone in the world?"
She cocked her head and suspicion blossomed in the blue depths of her eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"Mere curiosity. I like learning about people. I'm a photographer. I travel from town to town capturing images. My goal is to record the 'wild west' before it's gone."
She sat down. "That must be fascinating. Do you truly think the west will change that much so soon?"
He took the chair opposite. "Yes—"
"Hello." The woman called Garnet stopped at their table. "Sorry to take so long. Busy today. What can I get for you?"
"I'll have the potato soup," Garrick said. "The same for the lady. Coffee as well."
"Oh, no, I—"
"Nonsense. Let me to do this, Miss Cady. I insist."
Garnet winked at her. "Two soups and coffee. Don't worry. You'll be finished before Mortimer's order is ready."
Cady pinned him to his chair with widened eyes. "Why are you doing this? You don't know me."
"Perhaps I'd like to know you. Is there harm in that?" He picked up his napkin and spread it over his lap. "Photography is quite interesting. A certain amount of skill is required to achieve truly accurate likenesses. I enjoy it."
"Mr. Brant, I appreciate your invitation to share your noon meal, but this is not proper."
"I learned the photography business in order to travel and search for my sister. She's been missing for three years. Is there a girl named July where you work?"
"No." Shock widened her eyes. "You expect to find your sister in a place like the salon? I'm sorry. I don't know her."
"Yes, I'm afraid I do."
She appeared dumbfounded. Finally, she lowered her gaze and said, "I have a sister too, and don't know where she is either."
"Is that so?" A cloud dimmed Garrick's enjoyment. He spoke from the heart, saying, "I can sympathize with you. July is the only family I have left. I'm determined to find her."
As he debated showing her July's picture, the waitress returned with a loaded tray. She set down two cups of coffee and utensils. "Soup will be right out."
"No hurry." Garrick didn't want this meal to end too soon. He found his companion too captivating. He'd wait until they finished eating to show her the photo. "Where are you from, Cady?"
"Kansas, a small town called Ellsworth in the center of the State."
Her hungry gaze hadn't left the buns since they arrived. Why didn't she help herself? Pride? He selected one, broke it in half, slathered butter over it and placed it on her plate. To forestall her rejection, he said, "Just eat it."
The look of defeat that slipped over her face made him feel like a bully. He regretted that.
Garnet returned almost immediately with two steaming bowls of thick creamy liquid.
"Smells delicious," Garrick said.
"I hope it tastes just as good." Garnet scurried off.
"It's sinful to waste good food," Garrick said quietly.
Cady's gaze flicked up to his, then down at the bowl. She dipped her spoon into the soup and tasted it. "Oh, it reminds me of my mother's potato soup. Wonderful."
"Do your parents reside here as well?" If he occupied her mind with conversation, perhaps she'd forget her objections to eating with him.
"Oh, no. She and my father passed away five months ago of a fever." She swallowed another bite.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Garrick took a second bun and split it open. Aromatic steam filled the air.
She ate as if starved. Garrick hoped she wasn't rushing to get away from him. He allowed her to eat in silence for a time while he enjoyed his own meal. Too soon, she finished, moved her bowl aside and sipped her coffee.
"Are you in a hurry?" he asked.
"If I don't get back soon, my employer will be unhappy."
Almost as if she'd heard Cady, the waitress returned with a tray covered with a cloth. "Here is Mr. Crane's order."
Cady stood and accepted the burden, thanking the woman. "I'll bring the tray back."
Garrick got to his feet and laid some money on the table. "I'll walk you."
"Oh, that's not necessary." She appeared on the verge of panic. "Thank you for the soup."
He decided not to push matters and gave her a slight bow instead. "You've been a delightful companion."
She gave him a shy smile. "I enjoyed it. Thank you again for helping me and for the soup. Goodbye now."
Before he could say more, she hastened out the door.
Chapter Three
"I'll leave the door unlocked for you," Franco said as he let Cady, along with Alma, Leda and Mae, out the rear kitchen entrance the next day. "Be careful."
"We will," Cady promised. "Thank you, Franco."
"Come on," Alma urged, coughing. "We don’t have much time. Who knows how long Mr. Crane will be tied up with that photographer?"
A look of longing crossed Franco's face as Mae slipped past him. Cady hid a grin. She'd guessed right, he was smitten with the girl. The discovery pleased Cady. Regardless of what they had been forced to do to stay alive, fallen doves deserved love too.
As they passed the salon, Cady noticed a wagon parked in front, the type tinkers drove—and traveling photographers. A tiger cat sat on a step beneath the door at the back. It must belong to Garrick Brant. She almost wished she could stay to see him again.
Besides his kindness in saving her from those men and treating her to dinner, he was tall and attractive. She liked his crooked smile and ginger-colored eyes.
"Where shall we go first?" Mae jerked Cady's attention back to the girls.
"The mercantile," Alma answered. "I need some cough syrup. I just wish we didn't have to put up with him."
They all glanced over their shoulders at the large man following several yards behind. As usual, the sight of Lach sent a shiver down Cady's back. The man looked capable of any sort of depredation.
Leda frowned. "I thought we were going to the Sugar & Spice. I'm hungry."
"Alma's cough is bad," Cady said. "She needs something to help her get rid of it. Then we can go to the bakery."
"You can wait that long, surely," Mae said.
"All right. I didn't mean to be selfish, Alma. Sorry." Leda appeared crestfallen. "It's only that I look forward to these little escapes from the salon so much. Having a yummy treat cheers me up."
"I know. I feel the same way." Alma stifled a cough and gave Leda a quick hug. "Don't fret about it."
"Maybe you should see the doctor," Mae said.
"I will if it doesn't improve."
Cady couldn't help noticing that, of the four of them, she wore the least attractive and most worn dress. Leda's lavender day dress sported a panel of ruffles down the front. Alma had made her own from plaid broadcloth with a small bustle in back. Mae wore a simple dress like Cady's but far nicer. It made Cady feel like the ugly duckling.
The doves had received their wages this morning and had tips from customers to spend. Cady had only a dollar, and no one tipped her for scrubbing floors, waxing furniture, or emptying chamber pots.
While Alma waited for her medicine at the mercantile, Cady wandered the store, fingering fabrics she couldn't afford and drooling over a lovely jeweled broach in the display case. When the owner came and asked if he could help her, she showed him a drawing of Regina. "Have you ever seen this girl?"
"No, I'm afraid I haven't. Is she a sister?"
"Yes. I don't know where she is so I'm trying to find her."
"If I see her, I'll let you know."
"That would be kind of you. Thank you," Cady said.
Alma rejoined them, opening her cough syrup to take a sip.
"Come on, Cady," Leda called. "We're ready."
As they strolled along the boardwalk, Cady studied everything she saw. She'd need to know the town's layout by heart when the time came to escape.
Two ladies traversed the street rather than pass by them. It annoyed Cady, though it didn't seem to faze the other girls. What would happen when they entered the bakery? Would they be ordered out? Leda seemed certain there'd be no problem.
"Doesn't it bother you when people do that?" she asked.
"I ignore them," Leda said. "They have no idea what our lives are like and believe we choose to live as we do."
Cadence Page 2
