Callie wondered what made a man leave modern civilization to work such a solitary job in a 19th century town. What prompted any of the people here to choose such a hard life? She doubted she’d ever understand, modern gal that she was.
Rand touched his rein to the stallion’s neck to steer him back to the road, tipping his hat to Abe. “Much obliged,” he called as they continued on their way.
Before they reached the general store, two scruffy looking men dozing in front on tipped-back chairs straightened with interest. Together, the chairs fell forward, front legs thumping the wooden floor, and hats went up to reveal inquisitive eyes.
“Hey, Rand! You’re back.”
“Just couldn’t stay away from us, eh?”
“With faces like yours, even your mothers would stay away,” Rand joked.
“Least we don’t have to kidnap our women and drag them into town,” one countered and laughed, winking at Callie. “When you get bored with him, ma’am, come and see us. We’ll show you a good time.”
She was about to snap back with a sassy line for the lecherous man but Rand keenly anticipated her intentions.
“Don’t answer.” He kept the horse moving forward. “It’ll only encourage them.”
Tilting a defiant chin at the man, Callie turned to Rand. “You sure are popular around here,” she whispered.
“After awhile you get to know everybody. We’re like one big happy family. It’s nice to see the familiar faces again.”
“So, there are a lot of regulars?”
“Sure. There are those like me, who come back often, those like you, who work a block of time. And there are those like Abe, who just plain work and live here. Then there are the occasional guests who stay anywhere from a weekend to a month.”
“Wow,” was all Callie could say. Why anyone would pay for this kind of hardship was beyond her. At least she was getting paid and it was a one shot deal.
“Well, here we are,” Rand announced as he reined the horse to stop in front of the saloon. “Your home away from home.”
She looked up at the gray two-story building with its decorative swinging doors, large storefront windows, and expansive balcony. “Saloon” was painted in bright red on an uneven board just below the balcony while the rest of the building looked drab with its weathered clapboards and olive green shutters and doors. The boardwalk in front stood three steps above street level and was populated by an assortment of characters.
Home? Callie had never felt farther from home.
Rand dismounted and tied the stallion to the post before coming back to Callie. “Here, let me give you a hand down.” He stretched his arms up, reaching for her waist.
She tried to shift her weight to make it easier for him, but felt numb on her right side where she’d leaned against the curve of the hard saddle during the slow bumpy journey.
“I think my leg is asleep.”
“Well, hang on to me when I put you down.”
The heat of his hands on her again sent shivers along her spine. His gaze washed over her as he lifted her high and slowly brought her down to eye level. He paused, staring deeper and deeper into her eyes while her feet dangled off the ground. Was this how a man like Rand, a gentleman, liked his women? Held up high, feet never touching the ground. Her breath eased out of her chest as he finally lowered her to her feet.
“You made it, safe and sound. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, his smile revealing his even white teeth.
“I guess not, but—” as she put weight on her leg, she felt it give under her. “Oooh! It really is sound asleep.” She stamped her foot, trying to get the blood circulating again.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Rand warned.
“Why? I need to get the blood going down the leg.”
“You might be getting blood into your leg but you’re getting something else on your shoe.”
Callie looked down at the brown, squishy mound and gasped. “Ughh! Horse sh—”
Rand clamped his hand over her mouth, gently. “Unh, unh, unh. A lady doesn’t talk like that in public.”
She squirmed out of his grasp. “Then the horse shouldn’t do it in public!”
Ignoring the pins and needles crawling down her leg, she scraped her foot in the dirt, one hand on the stallion for support. But her quirky moves made the horse nervous and when he sidestepped, she lost her balance completely, landing atop the fresh droppings.
“Ughh! Get me out of here!” she pleaded, the pungent smell already churning her stomach.
Rand quickly reached for her hand and pulled her up as though she were a feather. Without releasing her, he stared with amused eyes as she fumed with anger.
“I warned you.”
“Well, you could have been more specific,” she shot back.
Still staring, he murmured, “But then I would have missed that fire in your eyes.”
Callie glared back at him, ready to blast him out, but his eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Whatever it was warmed her all over. Even her hand tingled where it melded in his unreleasing grip.
She shook her head. Maybe she read too much into this. After all, everyone liked him. And why not? He was kind, gentle, pleasant, polite. Or was it just make believe like this town? Was there another side to the unknown gambler?
“Ohh, never mind,” she grumbled, looking down at her soiled hip. “If you would please give me my parcel, I’d like to go inside and change out of this mess.”
From the saddlebag, Rand retrieved the package containing the only items she’d been allowed to bring in: personal toiletries, three outfits from the wardrobe room at the way station, the precious manual and her identification card. Her sneakers weren’t allowed but she’d brought them anyway.
“Well, thanks for the lift,” she said breezily.
His hand lingered atop the brown paper. “Mind if I accompany you?”
The ride into town had been far from pleasant and the prospect of starting her new job was as palatable as what she’d stepped in. So, yes, Rand’s company would be comforting. But he didn’t need to know that. Shouldn’t a lady keep some things to herself?
Callie looked toward the swinging doors as a man walked out and tipped his hat to her in passing. “Suit yourself,” she answered. “It’s a public place.”
With a hand at her elbow, Rand followed her up the steps and held one door open for her to pass through. Voices rang out as soon as they entered.
“Rand! Good to see ya.”
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
From behind an intricately carved mahogany bar, the bartender snapped a towel over his shoulder and placed a clean glass before him. Behind him was a mirrored wall adorned with four ornate brass oil lamps and dozens of colored bottles.
“A mite early for a card game, Rand.” The man waved his hand indicating the empty tables. “Not much goin’ on yet.”
“Not here for a game just yet, Smitty. Later.”
Smitty bobbed his head toward Callie. “I can see as how you’re occupied at the moment.” She didn’t like the third-person implication and turned a shoulder to Smitty.
One side of Rand’s mustache twitched up a hair. “Do you know where we might find Miss Becky?” He looked around and up to the balcony overlooking the large room.
“Try the office. She was doing some book work earlier.”
Just then a door behind Callie opened and a red-haired, buxom beauty stepped forward. “Rand! I thought I heard your voice. Welcome back.” She approached with open arms.
“Another familiar face, I see,” Callie grumbled as the two embraced in a far too friendly manner for Callie to misinterpret. “Why don’t I just wait outside till the steam clears,” she whispered close to Rand’s shoulder.
She turned to leave but his fingers caught the sleeve of her dress. Releasing Miss Becky, Rand put his hand on Callie’s shoulder and forced her around.
“Becky, I’d like to introduce you to
Callie.”
“My, this is a first, Rand, you bringing in a woman. And a right pretty little thing, too. Nice to meet you, Callie.”
Rand’s hand pressed into Callie’s shoulder until she couldn’t ignore the message. “Hi. Nice to meet you, Becky.”
Releasing her shoulder, he cleared his throat. “I didn’t actually bring her in. We sort of met up on the trail. She had a little trouble with her...transportation.”
Suddenly raising her nose a notch, Becky had obviously caught wind of the foul odor and looked down at Callie. Her eyes drifted to the dark splotch on Callie’s hip.
“What’d you do, Rand? Drag her in?”
Callie narrowed her eyes at Rand, daring him to make her look more foolish than she already did. But deep down, she knew he wouldn’t. He was a gentleman.
“Actually, Becky, Callie is here to work for you.”
Becky’s eyes widened. “Well, that’s a horse of a different color. Or should I say, odor?” She winked mischievously at Callie.
Instantly, she knew she was going to like Becky.
“Come on, darlin’,” Becky drew a comforting arm around Callie. “Let’s get you out of those traveling clothes and into something a lot fresher and far more appealing.” The two women headed for the stairs leading to the second floor.
Rand called out before they stepped up. “Callie?” She turned to him. “You listen carefully to Miss Becky.”
Why did she have this nagging compulsion to answer, “Yes, master”? Instead she waved and continued up the stairs.
“Don’t worry, Rand. I’ll take good care of her,” Becky assured both of them. “See you tonight, big guy?”
“Count on it,” he answered with a glint in his eye.
* * *
“Well, young lady, I don’t know what you did to turn that man’s head, but my hat’s off to you.”
Becky swished into the green room crowded with rows of dresses hanging from wooden racks. One wall supported three large mirrors set into an alcove for multiple views.
Callie, still clinging to her parcel, gaped at the beautiful dresses of satins and sequins and feathers. “I don’t know what you mean. I just rode in with him.”
“Come on, girl, you can’t be that naive. I could name a dozen women who’ve tried and failed to sink their teeth into Rand. The man’s skin is as thick as a buffalo’s and you’ve somehow managed to get under it.”
“I’ve been known to do that to people,” Callie quipped. Especially when she didn’t meet their expectations.
Becky laughed heartily. “Come on over here and let’s find you something that’ll really get his head spinning.”
“You mean,” Callie hedged, “there’s nothing between you?”
“Me and Rand? No! Not that I wouldn’t have welcomed the idea at one time. No, me and Rand are just good friends. He’s a steady customer, and a darned good tipper.”
Turning her attention to the racks, Becky began pulling off dresses in a rainbow of colors. Callie noted that the shelves underneath were lined with an array of matching shoes, and the shelves above spilled over with feathered and satin headbands.
It was like a great big game of dress-up. “Did they really dress like this in the old saloons?”
“In some. We glamorize a bit to satisfy the guests’ preconceptions, but in the more affluent mining towns of the period, women often imported such fancy dresses from Paris. What you see here is the best of the West.” Turning to Callie with a triumphant smile and an armload of dresses, Becky ordered, “Now, get that filthy dress off and try on some of these. You’re gonna have a fine coming out tonight.”
* * *
After choosing several outfits for the next few days, Becky showed Callie to her simple room. Light blue curtains and spread offset the dark wood bed, nightstand, chair and dresser. Hanging her dresses on the hook behind the door, she patiently listened to Becky’s rules and regulations. No smoking, drinking or cussing. Be nice to the customers, and earn your tips.”
“But I thought that’s what went on in saloons, a lot of smoking, drinking and cussing.”
Becky aimed a stern look at Callie who sensed she’d just broken some sacred rule. “The customers may do those things but not my girls. They are to act respectable at all times. I run a clean and classy establishment.”
Callie smoothed back her hair and looked uneasily down at her feet. Her boots weren’t anywhere near as uncomfortable as Becky’s implied warning.
“Now, go down to the kitchen for a kettle of hot water to get cleaned up. You can send it up on the dumb waiter. Your wash basin’s over there with fresh towels. If you need anything laundered, put it in the laundry chute out in the hallway. You have about two hours to freshen up and grab a bite to eat.”
“Then what do I do?” Callie asked apprehensively.
“Nothing. Tonight you just sit by the bar and look pretty. I want you to observe the other girls and the customers. Get a feel for what’s going on. Got it?”
“I guess. Will you be there?”
“Oh, I’m always around, somewhere. Now, you go on and do what you have to do. If you have any extra time, practice your western accent and for heaven’s sake, read your manual. I don’t have time for private tutoring.”
Her point made clear, Becky swished out of the room, leaving only her lilac scent. Alone for the first time, Callie sighed and could only wonder what the next month would be like in a place she never would have dreamed of visiting. Cowboys, horses, uncomfortable clothes. None of them tickled her fancy. In fact, she avoided western shows or movies; she even cringed whenever she heard country western music.
Now, here she was right in the middle of a late 1800’s town, hired to make cowboys happy to spend their money. Becky had explained there’d be lurid looks and remarks, but it all came with the territory so she’d better get used to the idea.
Her mind drifted back to Rand, knowing he’d never be like that. There was nothing foul or unpleasant about him. He’d been a tip-your-hat, yes-ma’am kind of gentleman right from the start. He knew his role and played it well.
Trouble was, could she believe it? Was it just a role for him or did he play his true self? Would she ever get to know?
* * *
When Rand left the saloon, he walked his horse to the stable then headed straight for the hotel and ordered a tub of water in his room. He had a powerful lot of soaking to do.
“I don’t know if there’s enough hot water just yet, sir,” the clerk quivered. “The new arrivals have taken most of it.”
Rand nodded solemnly, his gaze settling on the dark paneling behind the desk. Its rich, polished surface greeted the weary travelers with warmth and simplicity, even following them up the stairs to their rooms. Rand knew the panels well.
He finished signing the register and tipped the man. “Just send up whatever you have.”
By the time Rand took his few belongings out of the saddlebags in his room, the water for his tub arrived. He quickly stripped down and slid into the water after lighting a cigar.
“Ahhh,” he said aloud at the comfortably warm water.
Lying back in the tub, puffing on his cigar, Rand pictured Callie pretty as can be sitting on his saddle. The woman had gotten to him, no doubt about it. She’d made him smile at the simplest things, and he wasn’t a man used to smiling.
Oh, he put on a good face at Way Out West. That was easy, because here he was someone else. Here, he was someone he wanted to be more than anything. And everyone seemed to like him. Sure, he tipped well, which made people only happy to cater to him. But he also made friends, like Abe and Becky.
Funny, he didn’t have any women friends on the outside. There, they either wanted to be his wife, or his enemy, but never his friend. After their divorce, his wife had become the enemy, while single women came from everywhere to win his newly liberated heart. But the transparency of their efforts was painful. All they really wanted was his money. His heart had nothing to do with it. His heart wasn�
��t in it.
And now along came Callie. He’d had this uncontrollable urge to protect her from the first moment he saw her in the way station, hiding from that gruff leather-attired creature. She’d looked scared, uncertain, and her golden hair reminded him of wheat fields blowing freely in a summer breeze.
Rand took the cigar out of his mouth and spread a washcloth over his face. Veiled from visual distractions, he concentrated on thoughts of Callie.
She had a quick wit and a sassiness uncommon in his circle of perfect socialites. She spoke her mind and didn’t bother to fancy dress it for a good impression. Best of all, she amused him. He found himself laughing at her antics, her attempts at being the modern western girl, and himself. Convincing her to ride in with him had boosted his morale. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed being with a woman.
But it sounded like a right fine idea.
Yes, he enjoyed Callie, but he knew it could go no further. His life was far too complicated and she was far too innocent. He believed in the protective anonymity of Way Out West too much to deprive her of it, not to mention its importance for his own preservation. If she’d come to hide from that burly biker, he had no right to invade her privacy and he certainly had no right to put any designs on her.
He was a gentleman, after all, and given time she had the makings of a proper lady. During his short one-week stay, he’d do his best to open her eyes to the beauty of the Old West and life as it should be. Anything more was out of the question.
He muttered beneath the cloth, “It’s just not in the cards.”
Chapter Three
Music from a honky tonk piano filtered up the stairs, through Callie’s door and settled between her teeth.
She sat on the edge of her bed trying to study the manual. Only the major hardships had jumped out at her so far: no electricity, no facilities, no contact with the outside world except by telegraph. This was worse than summer camp.
Way Out West Page 3