The Dolan Girls

by S. R. Mallery

  “If you’re referring to Thomas, that’s plain ridiculous. I’ll have you know, he says it to the both of us.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s you he’s always looking at when he says it.”

  With a loud sniff, Cora turned over again, but when the night turned pitch black and the stars sprinkled the sky like jewels scattered across a dark rug, she waited for Minnie to fall asleep, so she could have her own thoughts in peace. In spite of herself, a tiny smile spread across her face.

  He must still want me. Still think I’m pretty. Still …

  * *

  She watched how happy her daughter was now––peaceful, self-contained. The phrase tired of feeling angry did flicker across her mind several times over the coming weeks. Still, she was at a loss of what to do––her patterns were too set.

  “You must be so proud of Ellie,” Thomas mentioned one day as he handed her the bookkeeping ledger.

  “Yes, I am,” Cora replied, not even looking up.

  “Good. Well, good night then,” he said, sighing.

  “Good night.”

  “Thomas.” Minnie strolled in. “Been meaning to ask you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “How come you knew we were still here in South Benton?”

  Cora’s head snapped up. “Yes, Thomas. I’ve been wondering that same thing, after all these years.” Her tone chilled slightly.

  “Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” he said and walked out, leaving them with their eyebrows raised. When he returned, he was carrying a portfolio. Walking over to the desk, he plunked down a photograph, then stepped back.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Minnie laughed. “Where’d you get that?”

  “A photographer named Bradford Jones. Says he knows you both.”

  Cora threw her sister a dirty look. “He sure does. So, in other words, we’re not in real trouble?” she asked, bristling.

  “Yes, just being near Omaha, you’re definitely a target. These outlaws are getting more and more vicious every day. The Soltano gang, for example, they are one of the worst. As a matter of fact, tomorrow, the three of us should sit down and talk about how to protect this place properly while you all watching Miss Lola Montez perform,” Thomas said.

  “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?” Minnie asked.

  “If you’d like.” He stared at Cora.

  “Yes, of course we would. Right, Cora?”

  Cora took the longest time to nod. “So, you were saying you didn’t decide on South Benton, your boss did?”

  Thomas sighed. “Let’s just say, Cora, I steered him toward South Benton.”

  “Give the man a rest. Good night, Thomas. Just glad you’re here and that you’re going with us tomorrow,” Minnie said.

  “Thank you, Minnie,” he muttered, his eyes focused nowhere near the older madam.

  Cora stared at the floor for a couple of seconds, sensing he was waiting for her to make some sort of comment. Minnie was glad he was here. Was she? A part of her certainly was; the part that remembered his arms around her, the part that hadn’t quite completely shelved the memory of that special kiss on Ana’s porch so long ago. But what about the other part? What about the numbness she felt—and the words too late, too late cropping up over and over again?

  * *

  The night of Lola’s performance, Madam Ana’s was locked up tight. For five days straight, Cora had watched Thomas work hard to install extra security everywhere––bolts on the storm windows and shutters, padlocks on the roof, the basement door, and the stable. She had even asked him to place a special latch on Minnie’s and her bedroom, which made him laugh.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make it so secure, not even Allan Pinkerton himself could penetrate this place,” he said, chuckling.

  Finally, the night of the performance arrived, and with feathered hats, a bright array of satin dresses, woolen shawls, high leather boots, and waves of giggles, the entire Madam Ana’s entourage made their way over to Corrigan’s Gaming Hall for the celebrity show.

  As they all walked along, out of the corner of her eye, Cora could see Thomas starting out beside Minnie, then slowly working his way over toward her, chatting nonchalantly to different doves, and ending up in step with her. In spite of herself, she smiled.

  Just outside the swinging doors, Minnie paused. “All right, everyone,” she announced proudly. “Let’s make a night of it!” and pushing the doors open, led them all inside.

  In spite of their good reputation at Madam Ana’s, Cora realized that Corrigan’s large, wood-paneled establishment was, of late, the talk of the town. Once a single-roomed saloon, now it boasted three interconnecting rooms. The main thoroughfare housed an enormous oak bar, built, Corrigan claimed, by a master craftsman brought in especially from Omaha. Upscale Claret Sangarees and Champagne Flips were served along with rot-gut Cactus Wine and Mule Skinners. At the front of the room stood a smallish stage with a curtain behind it, perfect for the upcoming single performer.

  Impressed, as soon as they all entered, Cora noticed off to one side of the main room, was one of the side quarters, where gambling tables had been set up for Faro, Poker, Blackjack and Monte. Corrigan had already informed the Dolans how the Monte shell game pulled in the cowboys, and the card games attracted the higher-end clients. Word had it that his business had expanded tenfold by installing these gaming tables and by luring in different performers, such as the likes of Lola Montez, out of retirement, and hoping for a comeback.

  Although Cora had asked Corrigan to reserve an entire section for the Madam Ana contingent, as soon as Ellie spotted Brett, she made a beeline across the room to him.

  Cora shook her head.

  “Cora, she’s a grown woman,” Minnie cautioned. “She can sit wherever she wants.”

  Nodding, Cora said, “Yes, I suppose so.”

  Thomas, quickly guiding Cora and Minnie over to a seat next to the first gambling room, distracted Cora with comments on how much Corrigan’s had changed over the years. Nodding vehemently, Minnie agreed, as drinks appeared and Cora, sipping her first Champagne Flip, began to relax.

  “You know, I read an article about Miss Montez. It called her, the very comet of her sex,” Thomas said, as one of the doves at the next table almost fell off her chair laughing at some joke.

  Minnie smiled. “I heard she kept a couple of bears chained up in her front yard in Grass Valley!”

  Cora gaped. “Really? Bears?”

  “I also heard she’s had different marriages,” Pete chimed in. “And they say she’s the illegitimate daughter of Lord Byron,” he added, reaching for his low-end Mule Skinner. “There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore …”

  A couple of new cowboys at the bar swiveled around toward him to stare, as he continued.

  “There is society where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar.” He added, “Ah, that Byron…”

  Just then Marlena let out a huge burp, and everyone exploded with laughter.

  At Cora’s elbow, Thomas started chuckling, and after two more Champagne Flips, the younger madam couldn’t stop grinning. Without thinking, she placed her hand on his arm and gripped it, as she leaned back into his shoulder and arm.

  Even under his suit, she could feel how muscular he had become. Slowly, she closed her eyes and let the Champagne Flip work its magic. Her head swirling, she was picturing him, no longer there in a suit supporting her, but drinking water at their well, his shirt off, his suspenders dangling.

  “Cora? Are you awake?” he asked.

  She noticed his head was cocked at a forty-five degree angle, taking her in––her lavender parfum from Paris, her dangling emerald earrings that matched her dark green velveteen dress, her new green silk hat shipped all the way from the Mademoiselle Costello Paris Millinery. All the finery and scent she had carefully put on earlier, to make sure she looked her best.

  “Another Champagne Flip, Cora?” Minnie asked, winking at Thomas.

&nbs
p; “I shouldn’t, but…”

  Newfound co-conspirators, Minnie and Thomas simultaneously raised their right hands to signal a waitress over.

  Out of the corner of his eye, the Pinkerton caught a movement at the Faro table. As his body tensed, he ignored the next round of drinks brought to their table, and Cora’s warmth against him, and stayed riveted on one of the four card players.

  While three of the card players were busy arguing, looking over Cora’s head, the detective had a perfect view of the fourth player placing a card on the table. The tip end of a Kepplinger mechanism was peeking out of the man’s sleeve, its metallic sheen sparkling under the glowing lights. Recognizing the gambler as Luke Short, Thomas knew what would come next. Sure enough, the card shark exchanged his old card with the new one in a flash, confident no was watching. When it was done, the squat, experienced man drew a quick breath and smiled. Then slowly, casually, he turned and calmly surveyed the main hall.

  And Thomas eyeing him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Temptations

  Thomas figured that the infamous gambler Luke Short, already kicked out of Dodge, could sense danger as good as any lawman. One glowering, ‘evil eye’ from the detective, and the card shark instinctively clutched his stomach, doubled over, and mumbled something to the gentleman sitting next to him, who nodded absently before sliding a hefty pile of ‘ivories’ across the table into the chip pot.

  On his feet, the gambler tipped his hat, and conspicuously avoiding one last look at the detective, made a fast exit just as the lights flickered, and a lone man called out, “Come on out, Lola! Ain’t gonna wait no longer!”

  A light ripple of chuckles grape-vined throughout the room.

  “That’s rude!” Cora hissed, nestling against Thomas. He was content. With the card shark gone, he could now concentrate on the upcoming show and the closeness of their bodies.

  Suddenly, Lola stuck her head out between the curtains to yell back, “I’m a-comin’. Hold yer horses, fellas, I’ll git there when I git there!” She disappeared again.

  The crowd roared its approval, while the heckler hung his head, and after another round of drinks, the lights lowered for real.

  “Here we go, folks,” Minnie warbled, leaning back in her chair and hiccupping.

  In the half-light, a drumroll rumbled from off stage, then out popped Lola, clad in her famous Lord Byron garb. With her long salt and pepper hair, flashing blue eyes, and bronze skin, it was obvious to all, she had once been quite a beauty.

  As the audience whistled, stamped, and applauded, she performed a little curtsey then raised her right hand. Instantly, there was a hush the likes of which the Corrigan establishment had never seen. Every eye was focused on her as she strolled over to a large, handmade Indian basket on stage left. As the drums rumbled a second time, she opened the top, reached in, and pausing just the right amount of time for maximum effect, extracted a long snake, writhing slowly in the air.

  The room teemed with gasps that quickly crescendoed into outright screeches and howls when she draped it around her neck and shoulders. Her head high, her eyebrows arching, she began gyrating her hips in syncopated undulations to her snake.

  “I heard tell these so-called snakes cost her a small fortune,” Minnie whispered to Cora and Thomas.

  “You mean they’re not real?” Cora asked, swaying slightly across the table toward her sister.

  “No, honey, they’re made of rubber, cork, and whalebone.”

  “So she’s a fake.” Cora sniffed.

  “Right. So Buffalo Bill really saved all those people, even at the battle of Little Bighorn?” Minnie retorted.

  Thomas laughed. “C’mon ladies. Do your fighting later.”

  The act was turning serious. As if in a trance, Lola practically moaned an unrecognizable tune. Sad, set in a minor key, the lilting melody captured everyone’s attention, even the saloon gals, used to giving all their concentration to drunk customers.

  Suddenly, to everyone’s horror, the snake snapped in two. Murmurs of disbelief overrode everything until a cowboy in the front called out, “Hey, look! Those snakes are as phony as my cousin, and he always lies like a cheap rug!”

  Lola stormed off behind the curtain as the crowd began hissing. Soon their hisses became downright boos. “Give us our money back,” people yelled, searching for any object to throw at the stage.

  As the yells grew, Mr. Corrigan hurried over to the front of the room. “Now, ladies, gents, I understand you’re angry, I truly do! I’m sure I’d be as well, don’t ya know!” More boos followed. “Look, folks, folks!” Sweat was trickling down his face.

  More grumbling. “Hey, let’s put Corrigan in a blanket and bounce him ‘round a bit, like they do in other counties!” barked another cowboy.

  Corrigan looked over at the Dolan girls pleadingly. Minnie stood up and swaggered over to the stage, nearly stumbling over a front row patron’s outstretched leg. Several hands shot up to save her as she steadied herself and climbed up onto the platform.

  “Shush, shush! C’mon, there’s no need to treat Miss Montez or Mr. Corrigan like this. So what if her snakes ain’t real. She sure can dance, now can’t she?”

  “How ‘bout you dance, Miss Minnie? Or better yet, that pretty sister or niece of yours,” rang out from the back of the hall.

  Across the room from each other, Brett and Thomas simultaneously rose from their respective seats, their teeth bared.

  “What are you doing, Thomas?” Cora asked, pulling on his pant leg and almost falling over.

  He looked down at her. “Nobody should talk about you that way.”

  She stared up into his angry eyes. “That’s nice of you, but I can take care of myself.” When she hiccupped, he sat down next to her and shook his head.

  “I think you’ve had enough to drink, Cora,” he said.

  Corrigan quickly took over. “Now, now, now. Ladies and gents, if you want yer money back, I’ll give it. Let’s forget the whole thing and just enjoy the night out. What do you say?” He paused, then gulped. “Drinks are on the house!”

  Wild applause was their response, but as people started lining up to get a refund, suddenly Lola appeared from behind the curtain and defiantly stalked over to the gaming room to play tenpins and smoke a thin cigar. Smiles immediately broke out, the customers drifted away from the money-back line, and ended up surrounding her at her tenpin table instead, begging for autographs.

  “After all, she was a legend once,” Pete announced, his face so red and bloated, a slight chill settled over Cora’s heart.

  “See, Cora? People can change,” Minnie slurred.

  Cora shrugged as Thomas murmured, “Time to go home, time to go home.”

  Tilting and shifting along, the Madam Ana party managed to make it home in one piece. Thomas, realizing getting Cora drunk might have backfired, did his best to prop her up close to him. Pete and Minnie interlocked arms so tight, they became as one, and far behind in the shadows, Brett and Ellie cooed soft words into the night between smooches.

  On their porch, Cora looked over at the sweethearts and started to make a comment, but ended up just emitting a simple sigh. “Gotta change clothes,” she muttered and disappeared. Minnie took off toward the kitchen for a midnight snack, and Pete collapsed on their settee.

  Thomas decided he had better stay a while to make sure Cora was all right, and entered his small office. A report regarding this Luke Short might be needed by the Wyoming office, and now was as good a time as any to do it. His desk light lit, his pen dipped in ink, he started in. Before long, Ellie came by, her face glowing.

  “Sleep well, dear Thomas,” she said softly. A woman in love entered his mind as he continued writing. When he heard a slight rustle, he looked up.

  Cora was in the doorframe, with only a nightgown on and a light shawl loosely wrapped around her. Stumbling a little, she approached the front of the desk and stood there, opposite him. He could tell she was trying hard to act normal, but her e
yes were glazed, and when she spoke, her voice held the distinct timbre of alcohol.

  “Thank you for being ready to defend my honor,” she voiced as clearly as she could.

  He stood up and came around to her side. She turned toward him just as the shawl fell onto the floor. Simultaneously, they both stooped over for it and banged their heads together.

  “Ow!” she cried, standing up, the outline of her breasts jutting out beneath her gown. He sucked in his breath and gulped. “So sorry,” he murmured, not looking at her face at all.

  She noticed the direction of his eyes and produced a crooked grin, pleased with her feminine power. “I guess you still find me attractive.”

  He put one arm tentatively around her waist. “Cora, don’t tease me.”

  She leaned into him for a few seconds, their bodies fitting together like old times. Yet, when she paused and drew back, Thomas could sense a shift.

  “I think I’m drunk. I should go to bed,” she said.

  With a deep sigh, he withdrew his arm, and steadying himself against the desk, listened to her say, “Good night,” then watched her straighten up, as if gathering all her dignity, and leave.

  * *

  Meeting up with the South Benton School Committee the following week was a far cry from Ellie’s original encounter with them. Nodding graciously, they all welcomed her heartily, and Judge Endicott even complimented her ‘exemplary teaching.’ Mrs. Endicott concurred, displaying a rare smile that few ever got to see. Ramrod straight in their seats, they were all expecting the schoolmarm’s moxie, but no one had an inkling of what was to follow.

  Empowered by love, Ellie was more than ready. “I’d like to propose a project that would be helpful for the entire South Benton community, not just their children,” she began.

  “And what might that be?” one of the committee members asked.

  “A movable library.”

  “A what?” several of them buzzed.

  “This is something that other towns have been incorporating into their educational systems. It would entail a covered wagon chock full of books, not only for the children, but for the adults as well.”