His Sweet Amber (The Red Petticoat Saloon)

by Sue Lyndon

  Chapter Three

  Piano music, laughter, and voices drifted into the kitchen from the main room of the saloon. Callie sat at a small table across from Madame Jewel, sipping hot tea with honey, as she took in the warm and friendly atmosphere of this establishment that had become her refuge not five minutes ago. Her hands shook as she brought the cup to her mouth, and she was trying her best to hold back tears. She still couldn’t believe what had happened to her tonight.

  “Sweetie, are you sure I can’t call a doctor to have a look at you? You look like you’ve been through quite an ordeal.” Concern reflected in Madame Jewel’s gaze. “Would you care to tell me what happened to you?”

  Callie stared at the kind madame, feeling some of the fright of her evening dissolve. She was in a warm, safe place, just as Gabriel had promised. A room was being prepared for her to spend the night in, and Madame Jewel had assured her that she didn’t have to do anything to pay for the room. The woman seemed to genuinely want to help her without expecting anything in return.

  “Let’s just say the couple I was living with were not as Christian as they claimed to be.”

  “Who were you staying with?”

  “The Gerrards. They live in the little blue house just down the street.”

  Madame Jewel frowned. “I’m familiar with the couple. Mrs. Gerrard has spoken out against The Red Petticoat, or so I’ve heard through the grapevine. And Mr. Gerrard—well, let’s just say the next time he shows his face in The Red Petticoat, he won’t get the warm welcome he’s accustomed to. I don’t want him anywhere near you, and if that’s the sort of man he really is, I certainly don’t want him near any of the gems, period.”

  Callie swallowed another sip of tea, reveling in the warmth that spread throughout her insides. A few minutes ago she’d been alone in the dark and terrified. She thanked God for these kind people who’d come to her rescue without asking anything from her in return or even asking her anything about herself.

  “I’m not surprised to hear Mr. Gerrard frequented The Red Petticoat. With the creepy looks he always gave me, I should have known it would only be a matter of time before he…” She paused and blinked hard against the rapid swell of her tears. Emotion clogged her throat and she couldn’t say another word even when she tried.

  “Shh,” Madame Jewel said soothingly and reached across the table to give her hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be all right. Tell me, did Mr. Gerrard force himself upon you?”

  Callie shook her head. “He tried, but Mrs. Gerrard walked in just in time. I felt relief when I heard her voice, but then Mr. Gerrard claimed I had tempted him. They tossed me out in the street.”

  “I’m so sorry, Callie. Do you have any family, or are you orphaned?”

  Callie gave Madame Jewel the abbreviated version of how she’d ended up in Culpepper Cove. It actually felt good to tell another woman who wasn’t Mrs. Gerrard what had happened to her. Mrs. Gerrard had scoffed when Callie insisted she couldn’t ask her family for help, but Madame Jewel looked at her with nothing but understanding gleaming in her pretty eyes.

  “So you see, I’m stuck in Culpepper with only a few dollars to my name. Widowed with a claim no one seems interested in buying, and completely estranged from my family.” Callie laughed. How could she not? If she didn’t laugh at the ridiculousness of her situation, she would break down crying again.

  A small smile tugged at Madame Jewel’s lips. “Well, then, it sounds like you’ll fit in nicely at The Red Petticoat. You are welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

  “But I can’t just stay here for free. I mean, surely you would expect me to work and earn my keep, wouldn’t you?” Callie didn’t want to be a charity case, even if that was what Madame Jewel was offering.

  “Well, we always need girls to serve drinks and help the men in the bathing room. I’m sure you could also help Nettie in the kitchen from time to time. We’ll find something for you to do that doesn’t involve going upstairs with the men. The gems who go upstairs with the men wear red petticoats under their outfits, but as long as you’re wearing a more modest dress and pink petticoats, the men who come in here will understand that you are to be left alone.”

  Not for the first time tonight, Callie was stunned. Had the madame of a brothel actually offered her a job? One that didn’t include servicing customers?

  She had never in her wildest imaginings thought she might be tempted to take a job in a place like The Red Petticoat, but she was more than tempted. She was excited and felt hopeful at the chance she was being given. But then she thought about the women who went upstairs. They had to be making decent money. The sort of money that could get her back east, if she decided to ever venture back to Virginia. She’d once formed a vague plan about how she could reconcile with her family, but unfortunately that plan required a great deal of money.

  Callie took a deep breath and stared Madame Jewel straight in the eye. “Actually, I think I might like to wear the red petticoats.”

  The madame looked at her with uncertainty.

  “I’m no virgin. And I could use the extra money,” Callie continued, then felt a stab of self-consciousness that Madame Jewel hadn’t accepted her as a full-fledged gem right away. Maybe Callie wasn’t pretty enough to wear the red petticoats.

  “Callie, sweetie, you’ve been through an ordeal this evening,” Madame Jewel said with a kind smile. “I’m not saying ‘no’ to you wearing the red petticoats, but I would like you to start out helping around the saloon in other ways first. Then if you decide in a week or so that you’d really like to go upstairs with the men, I will allow it. You seem like a good girl and I don’t want you rushing into something you’ll later regret.”

  “I can live with that, though I promise you in a week or so I will still wish to go upstairs with the men. I have a future to save up for.” She didn’t elaborate on her future or the plans she was still concocting that required a bit of money, and thankfully Madame Jewel didn’t ask.

  “All right, it appears we have a deal. Now, there’s only one bit of business left.” The madame tapped on her chin and stared at Callie thoughtfully. “You need your gem name.”

  “My gem name?”

  “Yes, all the girls who work at The Red Petticoat go by gem names, so as to keep their true identities private.”

  Callie felt some relief at that. She’d heard that the girls working at the saloon were called gems, but she’d just assumed that was a fancy name for a soiled dove.

  “Your light blonde hair has some darker streaks the color of amber in it. It’s beautiful.” She smiled. “Well, there we have it. Amber. Your gem name is Amber.”

  Callie grinned across the table at Madame Jewel. “Amber. I like it. Thank you. You’ve been most kind to me. If Gabriel hadn’t found me in the street, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “Everyone here helps each other, Amber. We lift each other up. I think you will get on well with the other gems.” Madame Jewel stood up. “Come, I’ll show you to your room downstairs. If you do decide to wear the red petticoats, we’ll get you settled in a room upstairs, but until then we’ll keep you down here near the kitchen.”

  Callie followed Madame Jewel down a short hallway and through an open door. The room they entered contained a small but inviting bed stacked with pillows and blankets. A dresser rested against the far wall, with a mirror hanging above it. There was also a table with a basin for washing set up in a corner. Her valises had been placed atop a trunk that was pushed up against the bottom of the bed. It was a cozy room and Callie suddenly found herself yawning as she eyed the bed.

  Madame Jewel put an arm around her and smiled down at her. “Get some rest, and in the morning I’ll introduce you to everyone. Also, I promise no one will come bothering you, but there is a lock on the door. Feel free to latch it if it makes you feel safer.”

  “Thank you.”

  The madame departed the room and closed the door behind her. Callie immediately went to latch the lock. The
n she slipped her shoes off and went to the basin to clean up. Her dress would need washing due to her tumble on the street. She took it off and donned a nightdress, then curled up under the covers. Sleep claimed her quickly.

  She dreamed about Lawrence Black. His dark, kind eyes. His black hair blowing in the breeze. She even dreamed of him taking his clothes off and crawling into bed with her. But when she awoke in the morning, the memories of her dream left her with a deep sadness.

  She shouldn’t be dreaming about another man right now, only months after Matthew’s passing. Furthermore, she shouldn’t be thinking about the handsome former preacher at all.

  He’d returned to his cabin in the mountains. He hadn’t stuck around town, and she took it as a sign that he wasn’t interested in settling down. The pain in his voice when he’d spoken of his wife, Mary, had been cutting. He clearly wasn’t ready to marry anytime soon, and, therefore, she needed to vanquish all thoughts of him from her mind. Instead, she needed to focus on her new position at The Red Petticoat and her plan to make it back east, where she would be free to marry again and no one would know of her brief stint working at a brothel in a mining town.

  ***

  Back in town again, only a short time after his last trip, Lawrence left the Bentley Inn in a lighter mood than he’d felt upon first arriving. As much as he thought he wanted to be left alone, there was a certain appeal to being around others and making himself useful.

  He spent the morning helping David Cray and his son work on a woodshed. David and his son had built Lawrence’s cabin shortly after he struck it rich on his claim. It still amazed Lawrence that they’d built such a large and sturdy cabin in less than two weeks. He’d helped them, of course, but the two of them were skilled in their trade and had done most of the work.

  Mrs. Cray insisted he join them for lunch, and he sat at the table in absolute awe of the family. They laughed and talked over a delicious meal, the Crays, their three daughters, and one son. A sense of peace settled over Lawrence when he was surrounded by such love and devotion.

  This is what he wanted. A family. Well, maybe not all the time. But there were times when he thought he might be able to move on and start his life anew.

  He closed his eyes and imagined his wife cooking at the stove while their daughters helped set the table. He’d just arrived home with his young sons from a day panning gold. He wouldn’t take them hardrock mining until they were a bit older. Not that they needed the money, but as a good father, he planned to teach them the value of hard work. His anger toward God long gone, he would say a blessing and then they would eat. Night would come and find them all tucked in their beds. Warm and safe. Loved.

  “Lawrence? You still with us?”

  He shook the daydream away and focused on the question he’d half heard David ask. Something about his plans for staying in town?

  Clearing his throat, Lawrence leaned forward and said, “Well, I might stay for a few more days. Between your cooking, Mrs. Cray, and the soft beds at the Bentley Inn, it’ll be difficult to leave Culpepper.”

  Mrs. Cray blushed at the compliment.

  After lunch, Lawrence helped David install a new window on a neighbor’s house a short walk outside of town. It didn’t take long, and Lawrence once again found himself alone with no plans just before supper time.

  He declined an invitation to dine with the Crays again, his thoughts on The Red Petticoat. The place had a cheery atmosphere and the food was scrumptious. He’d found the wine more than decent, too. Last night he’d enjoyed a few glasses while talking with the miners who happened to join him at the bar, though they mostly drank whiskey.

  He couldn’t deny it. Being around people helped hold the darkness at bay. Alone in his cabin, all he could think about was Mary. Had he done something to cause her death? Considering she’d died during childbirth, there were days when it was difficult not to blame himself.

  But there was also the memory of their playful but sometimes rough lovemaking. He’d had desires he wasn’t sure were normal for a man. He’d liked to redden Mary’s bottom before loving her, and he’d grown fond of taking her in a variety of salacious positions. A man of God surely shouldn’t have treated his own wife that way, but at the time he ignored the whispers of his conscience and convinced himself nothing he did to Mary was improper because they were married.

  Had he sinned against her? Was God punishing him for his actions?

  Taking a deep breath, he traversed between the carriages and people strolling down the main street on his way to the saloon. His conscience had once whispered that what he was doing to Mary was wrong. But now, after months of living alone and having more hours than he’d like to reflect upon the past, his conscience whispered something else entirely—that not only was it not wrong or sinful, but that their unique love and the passion they’d shared had been a gift.

  Two gems looked up from serving drinks and smiled at Lawrence when he walked in. He headed straight for the bar, taking a seat on the end. The gem he’d learned was named Opal winked at him and reached for a wine glass.

  “More of the red stuff?” she asked with a grin.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She giggled. “Have any more messages for me from ol’ Peter?”

  “Nothing I feel comfortable repeating.”

  “Hm. You planning on going upstairs tonight, pastor?” She laughed. “If you are, might I recommend myself? I haven’t been with a preacher since I left New Orleans.” She waggled her eyebrows at him and leaned over as she passed him the wine, giving him an ample view of her generous bosom. “I have some very naughty things to confess, some very naughty things I ought to be punished for.”

  Lawrence didn’t know how to answer. Had he so completely lost his senses that her offer had him considering what it might be like to lay with a woman? He wasn’t a preacher anymore. He was just a man. A man who had needs just like all the other men who were here enjoying all The Red Petticoat had to offer.

  Feeling his face flush with his thoughts, he mumbled a vague response to Opal and took a sip of wine. A man seated near him looked at his glass and chuckled, then downed a double shot of whiskey and ordered another. Lawrence liked the taste of whiskey but he didn’t want a repeat of his last experience with the amber liquid, so he drank his wine and glanced over his shoulder at the stage in the main room. As the man on piano started a new tune, three gems shimmied around on stage, occasionally turning around and flashing the drawers beneath their red petticoats.

  A familiar face floating through the crowd suddenly caught his attention. He stared at the young blonde, instantly recognizing the beautiful girl he’d enjoyed a picnic with during his last trip to town. Mrs. Callie Smith, who was recently widowed. He’d thought about her often, but he’d been gone long enough that he’d assumed she had already gotten married. Pretty young women didn’t stay single for long in a town like Culpepper.

  What was she doing here? The last time he’d spoken with her, she had been staying with the Gerrards. Surely she couldn’t still be living with them if she was working here. He doubted the prudish Mrs. Gerrard would have allowed it.

  He observed as Callie moved gracefully through the crowd, serving drinks. She disappeared for a few minutes and returned with two steaming plates of food, which she placed in front of two men seated at one of the larger tables against a wall. She smiled now and then at the patrons, but she didn’t do anything overly flirtatious. In fact, though her dress was low cut, her breasts weren’t spilling out like most of the other women who worked here. Her hair was piled in an elegant updo, with curls falling around her face.

  God, she was even more breathtakingly gorgeous than he remembered.

  When she looked up from talking to one of the gems, their eyes met from across the room. Her face paled. She immediately turned and bolted for what he assumed was the kitchen area.

  Ignoring Opal’s question about whether or not he wished for another drink, Lawrence quit the bar and crossed to where Callie ha
d disappeared. He made to walk into the kitchen, but a woman with dark skin and light blue eyes stepped in his path.

  “Out! Shoo!” She glared at him with her hands on her hips. “No patrons in the kitchen. Shoo! Don’t make me call Gabriel.”

  “Wait. Please, I’m looking for a girl. Callie. Mrs. Callie Smith. I saw her come back here.”

  “I suggest yous turn around, man, else…”

  “It’s fine, Nettie.” The blonde in question appeared at the dark woman’s side. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Nettie put her hands up in exacerbation and waved a wooden spoon around. “Fine, yous can talk here, but know that I’ll have no funny business in my kitchen.” She walked to the stove and commenced stirring something in a large pot, and the aroma that escaped made Lawrence’s mouth water.

  He looked at Callie. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  One of her eyebrows shot up. “Well, here I am. This is where I live and work now.”

  “Yes, Callie, but you don’t seem like the type of girl to be working in a saloon. Has something happened? What about the Gerrards?”

  A haunted look crossed her face and she lowered her head for a moment. When she glanced up again, she said, “Nothing happened. I just couldn’t take the Gerrards’ charity anymore. It’s time I earn my own keep.”

  “Yes, but here?”

  She lifted her chin and her eyes flashed. “Need I remind you that you are standing in the same building as I am right now? Come to scratch an itch, pastor?” The moment she said it, her face flushed. Nettie snickered at the stove.

  “I came for a drink.”

  “Oh, really? Just a drink?” She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t need your or anyone else’s judgment, Pastor Black.”

  He flinched. “I’m not a preacher anymore and I’ll never be one again. You know that, Callie.” He’d thought they had made a connection during the picnic they’d shared, but maybe he’d been mistaken. She seemed awfully defensive at the moment, but damn if he didn’t want to help her.

  “You can’t work here, Callie.” Lawrence crossed his arms and glared at her. “Now tell me what happened with the Gerrards.”