When White Eagle finally stopped laughing, he grinned at Addie and said, "Old Pierre must be quite a customer. I imagine he's keeping you pretty busy, what with his wife about to give birth."
The smile vanished from Addie's face. "You shouldn't say such things about your father," she chided him. "A son should be respectful."
"And a father should earn that respect," White Eagle replied, his voice sharper than he had intended. He shook his head. "I didn't come here to argue, Mrs. Plunket. Obviously, my father was playing a joke on me. He told me I could rent a room here while I stayed in Abilene. I imagine the bill would add up pretty rapidly at hourly rates."
"You jump to too many conclusions, young man." Addie's eyes were stern.
"You mean I can rent a room here...for sleeping?"
"We'll talk about that later." Addie smiled in her practiced, professional way and took White Eagle's arm again. He allowed her to turn him toward the languid young women. "You look like you've been on the trail for quite some time," Addie went on. "How about a nice hot bath and a little female companionship?"
White Eagle had to admit that the prospect was appealing. He had plenty of money. Why shouldn't I indulge myself? he thought.
"All right," he answered with a smile.
Addie nodded toward the four young women. "You can have your pick of companions," she said.
Three of the soiled doves brightened their smiles and tried to look more fetching. The only one who didn’t smile was the strawberry blonde in the silk chemise. She kept the same half-mocking expression on her face. And yet, White Eagle could see the interest in her eyes. There was something intriguing about her—
As he strode across the room toward her, she watched him approach. Her hand lay on the back of a velvet armchair, and she held the casual pose. The only concession she made was to tip her head back slightly to meet his gaze.
"What about you?" White Eagle demanded as he stopped in front of her.
"What about me?" she answered in a sultry contralto. White Eagle sensed that the voice, like her attitude, was a pose, but he had to admit that she was good at it.
"How would you like to give me a bath?"
"Would you like that?" she replied.
He cupped her chin to hold her head still and brought his mouth down on hers. Her lips responded to his kiss immediately. The only points of contact between them were his fingers on her chin and his mouth pressed hotly to hers, but they were enough. Waves of sensation cascaded through him.
A moment later, he pulled away, careful not to let her see what an effort it was. With a surge of satisfaction, he saw that her firm breasts were rising and falling rapidly.
"You'll do," White Eagle said casually.
He slipped an arm around her trim waist and turned to face Addie Plunket. The madam was still smiling. "Emily, you treat this gentleman nice," she said. "He's a special customer, you know."
"Of course, Addie," the girl said.
"I assume you'll want some payment now," White Eagle commented to the madam. Such a question might be a breach of whorehouse etiquette—the business arrangements were usually conducted with the woman who was being hired—but something told White Eagle these were unusual circumstances.
Addie shook her head. "We'll talk about that later," she replied. "You just relax and enjoy yourself."
White Eagle shrugged and nodded. Nevertheless, he felt a little uncertain about embarking on this debauch without knowing what it would cost him. If Addie named too high a price later, he could simply pay her what he thought was right and ride on.
Addie turned and called down the hall. "Julius!"
A short black man with massive shoulders appeared from the back of the house. "Yes, Miz Addie?" he asked. His close-cropped hair was gray, but his smooth dark skin was unlined. The muscles of his arms and shoulders bulged against the work shirt he wore.
White Eagle grimaced. If he complained about the price levied by Addie Plunket, it would probably fall to Julius to collect it. He decided that taking on the squat, obviously powerful man would be quite a task.
"Heat some bath water for Mr. Dandaneau,"
Addie ordered. "Then take a tub up to Emily's room."
Julius nodded, then glanced in surprise at White Eagle. "Dandaneau?" he asked.
"That's right," Addie said curtly. Her tone indicated that no more questions were to be asked. Julius nodded and disappeared down the hall.
White Eagle was very aware of Emily's hip pressed against his. Since he had chosen Emily, the other women had lost interest in him, but they still wore professional smiles on their lovely faces. White Eagle took one last look at the lush display of creamy flesh, then allowed Emily to lead him to the stairs.
His excitement grew as they went up to the second floor of the house. The subtle fragrance of Emily—the mixture of some perfume and her own natural scent—created an undeniable tension in him.
The carpet runner in the second-floor hall softened and muted their footsteps. The flames in the lanterns attached to the walls were turned low, so they cast a faint glow. Inside the bordello, it might have been the middle of the night—perpetual night, a time for passion and lust—rather than a bright afternoon.
He heard faint sounds coming from behind some of the doors they passed and knew that other prostitutes were practicing their ancient profession in those rooms. He was a bit surprised that he had had the opportunity to choose among four extremely attractive women. Emily was undoubtedly one of the loveliest women he had ever seen, and her haughty air challenged him, yet she had not been chosen by any of the men now locked in passion. That meant that all of Addie's women must be stunningly beautiful.
They were halfway down the hall when one of the doors opened suddenly, and a brawny man sporting a distinctive, full brown beard stalked out. He scowled angrily as he shrugged into his coat. Hurrying behind him was a young woman with long blonde hair, who was covering her nakedness with a sheet that she had wrapped around her.
"Don't worry about it, Butch," she said. "I'm sure it was my fault. I-I just didn't do the right things... But you've still got to pay."
The man stopped abruptly when he noticed White Eagle and Emily coming toward him. He frowned, and as he realized that White Eagle and Emily had heard what the blonde woman had said, his expression became angry.
He whirled around to face her. "Shut up, you slut!" he growled. "I paid you what you're worth, which is nothing."
The prostitute clutched at the sleeve of his coat. "But Butch—"
He jerked away from her and glanced over his shoulder at White Eagle. As Butch focused on his face, the scout saw the man's eyes narrowing. He stopped as Butch snapped, "Hey, boy, what's a redskin like you doing here?"
White Eagle knew that Butch's failure with the woman had enraged him, but Butch was also one of those customers who would be offended by someone with Indian blood. It would be best to ignore him, and White Eagle could tell from the way that Emily squeezed his arm that she didn’t want trouble either.
"Excuse us, please," White Eagle said. He began to move around Butch.
Butch reached out and grabbed White Eagle's arm. "I asked you what you're doing here!" he snarled.
Unable to suppress his anger, White Eagle smiled thinly. "I'm about to do what you evidently can't."
Butch stared at him as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard, and his face darkened with fury. "You damned heathen!" he sneered. He clenched his free hand into a fist and swung it toward White Eagle's face.
"Julius!" the blonde woman screamed.
White Eagle didn’t wait for help. He jerked his arm out of Butch's grip, moved smoothly away, and let the wild punch slide harmlessly past his head. Butch staggered, thrown off-balance by the miss, and White Eagle moved in on him. Grasping Butch's other arm, he stepped behind him and brought the arm up painfully against the man's back. Butch swore angrily and attempted to twist out of the grip. But the sudden cold touch of a Bowie knife against his throat stopped
him.
"I don't want trouble, mister," White Eagle said into the man's ear. "I'm tired and dirty, and I've been promised a bath. I'd like to take it in peace. Why don't you just pay your bill and go about your business?"
A moment went by, then Butch drew a shaky breath and said, "All right. Just get that knife away from my neck."
White Eagle drew the Bowie away from his throat and released his arm. Stepping back quickly, he held the knife up and ready in case Butch tried anything else. The man merely worked his shoulders, rubbed his stiff arm, and glowered at them.
Julius appeared at the head of the stairs. He carried no weapon in his hands, but he was plainly ready to deal with any trouble. He paused when he saw the four figures standing in the hall.
"It's all right, Julius," Emily said. "Just a misunderstanding." She glanced at Butch for confirmation.
He nodded grudgingly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a coin and slapped it in the blonde prostitute's outstretched palm. "That's right," he growled. "Just a misunderstanding." With one last murderous glance at White Eagle, he stalked down the hall, pushed past Julius, and disappeared down the stairs.
White Eagle slipped his Bowie back into its sheath. He met Julius's shrewd eyes, and the black man nodded his thanks.
"I really appreciate it, mister," the blond woman said. "That fella's nothing but trouble. I don't know why Addie doesn't just tell him not to come back—"
"You'd best let Miz Addie make those decisions, Lulu," Julius said sternly. Turning to White Eagle, he went on, "I'll have that bath water up here in just a bit, sir."
White Eagle nodded. "That's fine."
He glanced down as he felt the blond woman put her hands on his arm. Smiling coyly at him, she said huskily, "Did I hear Julius say something about a bath? I've been told I'm pretty good at washing things."
Emily laughed sharply and moved between White Eagle and the blonde. "Forget it, Lulu. The gentleman's with me."
Lulu shrugged. "I thought it was worth a try."
"Not tonight it isn't," Emily replied, her tone containing a clear warning. As Lulu slipped into her room, Emily linked arms with White Eagle and continued leading him down the hall. "Thanks for handling that so smoothly," she said. "Addie doesn't like trouble in the house."
"I told the man the truth," White Eagle said. "I don't want trouble. I just want that bath." He glanced up and down the hall. "I notice that nobody else came running to help."
"One of Addie's rules is that the girls stay in their rooms during any kind of trouble. That way they don't get in the path of any stray bullets."
"A good policy," White Eagle said dryly.
Emily paused at the last door on the right, opened it, and stepped back to let him precede her. An instinctive caution made White Eagle tell her to go ahead. She walked into the room and turned to face him. The lamp on the table beside the bed glowed behind her, and her body was plainly silhouetted through her garment's sheer fabric, making her more appealing than if she had been totally nude.
White Eagle gently closed the door behind him and waited. After a moment, Emily came to him. She rested her hands against his chest and lifted her face to be kissed. White Eagle pressed his lips to hers and pulled her tightly to him. As he felt himself responding, he slid a hand down her back to her soft hips and pressed her against him. She moaned deeply.
The soft knocking on the door went unheeded for a long moment. Then White Eagle broke the kiss and turned his head. "Come in," he said hoarsely.
Julius opened the door and brought in a large metal tub, which he placed in the center of the floor. "Here you go, sir," he said in his gravelly voice. "I'll be back in a moment with the hot water."
White Eagle nodded. As Julius left the room, White Eagle turned back to Emily. His fingertips stroked the smooth skin of her cheek.
"You enjoy this, don't you?" he asked softly. "This is more than just a job to you."
"Sometimes I do," she replied, returning his frank gaze. "I don't know any reason why a girl shouldn't like her work. Do you?"
Slowly, White Eagle shook his head.
They stood looking at each other until Julius returned. He poured steaming buckets of hot water into the tub and then left with a smile and a nod of his grizzled head.
"Why don't you get undressed?" Emily asked huskily.
White Eagle smiled at her. "Why don't you do it for me?"
She kept her chemise on as she stripped him. A few times, she paused as she saw the scars that he had collected over the years. "You've been in a few fights," she said as she traced what remained of one long arrow wound on his thigh.
"More than a few," White Eagle replied. The touch of her fingers was maddening to him, and he didn’t know how much he could stand.
When she had removed the dusty, sweat-stiffened buckskins, she dropped them in a corner. "We'll get those clean later," she said, "after you're taken care of."
He stepped into the tub, sinking with a grateful sigh into the hot water. It felt wonderful and immediately soothed the muscle aches that came from the long days in the saddle. He leaned as far back as he could and sank until the water was nearly up to his chest.
Emily had picked up a bar of soap from the small dressing table that sat against one wall and walked slowly toward him.
"You start washing me and that silk outfit's going to get water splashed on it," White Eagle warned.
Emily paused and sighed. "You're right," she said. "Here, catch." She tossed the soap to him.
Snatching the soap out of the air, White Eagle grinned as, in one graceful, sensuous movement, she peeled the garment down and off and tossed it casually over the foot of the bed.
Nude, she was every bit as lovely as he had expected her to be. She came to the tub, lifted a foot, and slowly slid it into the water.
"Going to be a tight fit in here," White Eagle said, looking up at her.
"Yes, indeed," Emily replied huskily.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. "The hell with this,"
he said as he reached for her. He caught her arm and pulled her down. Her foot slipped in the tub, and she sat with a splash, filling his arms with warm, wet, firm flesh.
Neither of them noticed when the water began to cool.
4
Emily and White Eagle spent the rest of the day in that room. But as fragrant aromas wafted up the stairs, they realized they were hungry for things other than each other. Emily reluctantly left him to go to the kitchen and bring back dinner on a tray. They enjoyed the meal in her big bed.
When he and Emily were finally sated, it was sometime far into the night. White Eagle lay peacefully against the pillows. The strawberry blonde was nestled beside him sound asleep with her head resting against his chest. For the first time since he had entered the room, he looked around at the dimly lit scene.
He had been in rooms like this before. The main item of furniture was the bed, and this was one of the most comfortable he had ever encountered. Two thick feather mattresses were stacked on an iron bedstead. Beside the bed was the small table that held the lamp. Nearby was a dressing table, and in front of it stood a chair with a curved back and a padded seat. An ornate mirror hung above the dressing table, and on the opposite wall was a framed picture, a duplicate of one of the paintings downstairs. Beneath it stood a ladderback chair. The single window was heavily curtained, like the others he had seen in the house.
All in all, it was a much nicer room than some he had seen. And Emily Sweeney was no ordinary soiled dove.
She had claimed to enjoy her work, and White Eagle was more than convinced of that. Unless she was the best actress in the world, she had thoroughly relished their lovemaking, throwing herself into the passionate coupling with a hot, heady fervor.
Sighing contentedly, he snuggled closer to her and began to doze. Just before he slipped into an exhausted sleep, a thought crossed his mind. If sending him to Addie Plunket's boardinghouse had been his father's idea of a joke, it certainly had backfired. Pierr
e couldn’t have sent him to a better place.
The next evening, White Eagle put on the buckskins that had been cleaned as Emily had promised and glanced in the mirror one last time. He nodded, satisfied by the relaxed, confident image that looked back at him. He was prepared.
An hour earlier Julius had brought word that Addie wanted to see him. The bill has come due, he had thought wryly as he closed the door on the departing man. For more than twenty-four hours, he had enjoyed Emily's favors, eaten fine meals, drunk champagne, and slept on clean sheets. The tab would be high.
After Julius delivered the message, Emily had left quickly to give White Eagle a chance to wash, shave, and dress. Now as he walked toward the stairs, he could feel a pleasant fatigue in his muscles.
Julius stood waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. "This way, sir," he said as he gestured toward the rear of the house.
White Eagle slipped one of the high-quality cigars that Emily had brought to him earlier from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. He lit it, savoring it, and blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. He wanted to put off this meeting with Addie for a few moments longer.
"I thought I might get a drink first," he said, nodding toward the parlor. He knew from what Emily had said that champagne was always available there.
"Miz Addie wants to see you right away, sir," Julius replied, as he smoothly insinuated himself between White Eagle and the parlor doorway.
The scout drew on the cigar once more and frowned. "Could it be that she doesn't want me in the parlor to upset the other customers with my Indian blood?" he asked.
"I really wouldn't know, Mr. Dandaneau." Julius smiled. "Some folks can be rather intolerant. Or so I've heard."
White Eagle chuckled. He didn’t want to make things difficult for Julius. "All right. Let's go talk to Mrs. Plunket."
Addie Plunket's small office was at the end of the hallway next to the kitchen. When White Eagle entered, she looked up from her desk and smiled warmly at him. "How has your stay been so far, Mr. Dandaneau? Everything satisfactory?"
Rattler's Law, Volume One Page 82