by Nora Roberts
Carlson cast a slow, meaningful look around the yard.
“He’s up in the mine,” Sarah explained. “If there was trouble, he’d come down quickly enough.”
“The mine.” Carlson cast his eyes up at the rock. “At least promise me that you won’t go inside. It’s a dangerous place.”
“Gold doesn’t lure me.” She smiled again, relieved that they would remain friends.
He swung gracefully into the saddle. “Gold lures everyone.”
She watched him ride off. Perhaps he was right, she mused. Gold had a lure. Even though in her heart she didn’t believe she’d ever see the mine pay, it was exciting knowing there was always a chance. It kept Lucius in the dark and the dust for hours on end. Her father had died for it.
Even Jake, she thought, wasn’t immune. It was he who had asked Lucius to pick up where her father had left off. She had yet to discover why. With death on his mind, Donley’s last words had been… A glimmer of suspicion broke into her mind.
I’m going to have the woman, and the gold.
Why should a man like Donley speak of gold before he drew his gun? Why would a worthless mine be on his mind at such a time? Or was it worthless?
Her promise to Samuel forgotten, she started toward the rise.
A movement caught her eye and, turning around again, she scanned the road. Someone was coming, on foot. Even as she watched, the figure stumbled and fell. Sarah had her skirts in her hand and was running before the figure struggled to stand again.
“Alice!” Sarah quickened her pace. The girl was obviously hurt, but until Sarah reached her, catching her before she fell again, she couldn’t see how badly. “Oh, dear Lord.” Gripping the sobbing girl around the waist, she helped her toward the house. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
“Miss Conway…” Alice could hardly speak through her bruised and bloodied lips. Her left eye was blackened and swollen nearly shut. There were ugly scratches, like the rake of fingernails, down her cheek, and every breath she took came out with a hitch of pain.
“All right, don’t worry, just lean on me. We’re nearly there.”
“Didn’t know where else to go,” Alice managed.
“Shouldn’t be here.”
“Don’t try to talk yet. Let me get you inside. Oh, Lucius.” Half stumbling herself, Sarah looked up with relief as he came hurrying down the rocks. “Help me get her inside, up to bed. She’s badly hurt.”
“What in the holy hell-?” Wheezing a bit from the exertion, he picked Alice up in his scrawny arms. “You know who this girl is, Miss Sarah?”
“Yes. Take her up to my bed, Lucius. I’ll get some water.”
Alice swooned as he struggled to carry her up the ladder to the loft. “She’s done passed out.”
“That may be a blessing for the moment.” Moving quickly, Sarah gathered fresh water and clean cloths. “She must be in dreadful pain. I can’t see how she managed to get all the way out here on foot.”
“She’s taken a mighty beating.”
He stepped out of the way as best he could when Sarah climbed the stairs to sit on the edge of the bed. Gently she began to bathe Alice’s face. When she loosened the girl’s bodice, he cleared his throat and turned his back.
“Oh, my God.” With trembling hands, Sarah unfastened the rest of the buttons. “Help me get this dress off of her, Lucius. It looks as though she’s been whipped.”
His sense of propriety was overcome by the sight of the welts on Alice’s back and shoulders. “Yeah, she’s been whipped.” The cotton of her dress stuck to the raw, open sores. “Whipped worse’n a dog. I’d like to get my hands on the bastard who done this.”
Sarah found her own hands were clenched with fury. “There’s some salve on the shelf over the stove, Lucius. Fetch it for me.” She did her best to bathe and cool the wounds. As Alice’s eyes fluttered open and she moaned, Sarah soothed her in a low, calming voice. “Try not to move, Alice. We’re going to take care of you. You’re safe now. I promise you you’re safe.”
“Hurts.”
“I know. Oh, I know.” There were tears stinging her eyes as she took the salve from Lucius and began to stroke it over the puffy welts.
It was a slow, painful process. Though Sarah’s fingers were light and gentle, Alice whimpered each time she touched her. Her back was striped to the waist with angry red lines, some of which had broken open and were bleeding. With sweat trickling down her face, Sarah tended and bandaged, talking, always talking. “Would you like another sip of water?”
“Please.” With Sarah’s hand cradling her head, Alice drank from the cup. “I’m sorry, Miss Conway.”
She lay back weakly as Sarah held a cool cloth to her swollen eye. “I know I shouldn’t have come here. It ain’t right, but I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“You did quite right by coming.”
“You was-were-so nice to me before. And I was afraid if I didn’t get away…”
“You aren’t to worry.” Sarah applied salve to her facial scratches. “In a few days you’ll be feeling much better. Then we can think about what’s to be done. For now, you’ll stay right here.”
“I can’t-”
“You can and you will.” Setting the salve aside, Sarah took her hand. “Do you feel strong enough to tell us what happened? Did a man-one of your customers do this to you?”
“No, ma’am.” Alice moistened her swollen lips.
“It was Carlotta.”
“Carlotta?” Sarah’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you saying that Carlotta beat you like this?”
“I ain’t never seen her so mad. Sometimes she gets mean if something don’t go her way, or if she’s been drinking too much you get a slap or two. She went crazy. I think she might’ve killed me if the other girls hadn’t broke in the door and started screaming.” “Why? Why would she hurt you like this?”
“I can’t say for sure. I done something wrong.” Her voice slurred, and her eyes dropped shut. “She was mad, powerful mad, after Jake came by. They had words. Nancy, she’s one of the other girls, listened outside of Carlotta’s office. He said something to set her off, I expect. Nancy said she was yelling. Said something about you, Miss Conway, I don’t rightly know what. When he left she went crazy. Started smashing things. I went on up to my room. She came after me, beat me worse’n Pa ever did. Eli, he brought me out.”
“Eli’s the big black Carlotta has working for her,” Lucius explained.
“He drove me out as far as he could. She finds out, she’ll make him sorry. Took a belt to me,” she murmured as sleep took her under. “Kept hitting me and hitting me, saying it was my fault Jake don’t come around no more.”
“Bitch,” Lucius said viciously. Then he wiped his mouth. ‘”Scuse me, Miss Sarah.”
“No excuse necessary. I couldn’t agree more.”
There was a rage running through her, hotter and huger than anything she’d ever experienced. She stared at the girl asleep in her bed, her small, pretty face bruised and swollen. She remembered each welt she’d tended. “Hitch up the wagon, Lucius.”
“Yes’m. You want me to go somewheres?”
“No, I’m going. I want you to stay with Alice.” “I’ll hitch it up, Miss Sarah, but if you’re thinking about talking to the sheriff, it won’t do much good. Alice here ain’t going to talk to him like she done with you. She’d be too scared.”
“I’m not going to the sheriff, Lucius. Just hitch up the wagon.”
She pushed the horses hard, pleased that the fury didn’t subside as she approached town. She wanted the fury. Since she’d come west she’d learned to accept many things-the grief, the violence, the labor. Perhaps the land was lawless, but there were times and reasons, even here, for justice.
Johnny raced out of the dry goods as Sarah rode by, then raced back in again to complain to Liza that Sarah hadn’t waved at him. She hadn’t even seen him. There was only one face in her mind now. She drew up in front of the Silver Star.
; Three women lounged in what might have been called a parlor. The late-morning heat had them half dozing in their petticoats and their feathered wraps. The room itself was dim and almost airless. Vivid red drapes hung limp at the windows. Gold leaf glowed dull and dusty on the frames of the mirrors.
As Sarah entered, a heavy-eyed redhead popped up from her sprawled position on a settee. She plopped back again with a howling laugh. “Well, look here, girls, we got ourselves some company. Get out the teacups.”
The others looked over. One of them hitched her wrap up around her shoulders. Her hands folded, Sarah stood in the doorway and took it all in.
So this was a bordello. She couldn’t say she saw anything remotely exciting. It looked more like a badly furnished parlor in need of a good dusting. There was a heavy floral scent of mixed perfumes that merged, none too appealingly, with plain sweat. Carefully, finger by finger, Sarah drew off her driving gloves.
“I’d like to speak with Carlotta, please. Will someone tell her I’m here?”
No one moved. The women merely exchanged looks. The redhead went back to examining her nails. After a long breath, Sarah tried another tactic. “I’m here to speak with her about Alice.” That caught their attention. Every one of the women looked over at her. “She’ll be staying with me until she’s well.”
Now the redhead rose. Her flowered wrap slid down her shoulders with the movement. “You took Alice in?”
“Yes. She needs care, Miss-”
“I’m Nancy.” She took a quick look behind her.
“How come somebody like you’s going to see to Alice?” “Because she needs it. I’d be grateful to you if you would tell Carlotta I’d like to speak with her.” “I reckon I could do that.” The redhead pulled her wrap up. “You tell Alice we was asking about her.” “I’ll be glad to.”
While Nancy disappeared up the stairs, Sarah tried to ignore the other women’s stares. She had changed to one of her best day dresses. Sarah thought the dove gray very distinguished, particularly with its black trim. Her matching hat had been purchased just before her trip west and was the latest Paris fashion. Apparently it wasn’t proper attire for a bordello, she thought as she watched Carlotta descend the stairs.
The owner of the Silver Star was resplendent in her trademark red. The silk slithered down her tall, curvaceous body, clinging, shifting, swaying. Her high white breasts rose like offerings from the scalloped bodice, which was threaded with silver threads. In her hand she carried a matching fan. As she flicked it in front of her face, the heavy scent of roses filled the room.
Despite her feelings, Sarah couldn’t deny that the woman was stunning. In another place, another time, she could have been a queen.
“My, my, this is a rare honor, Miss Conway.”
She’d been drinking. Sarah caught the scent of whiskey under the perfume. “This is hardly a social call.”
“Now you disappoint me.” Her painted mouth curved. “I can always use a new girl around here. Isn’t that right…ladies?”
The other women shifted uncomfortably and remained tactfully silent.
“I thought maybe you’d come in looking for work.” Still waving the fan, she strolled around Sarah, sizing her up. “Little scrawny,” she said. “But some men like that. Could use some fixing up, right, girls? Little more here.” She patted Sarah’s unrouged cheek.
“Little less there.” She flicked a hand at the neckline of Sarah dress. “You might make a tolerable living.” “I don’t believe I’d care to…work for you, Carlotta” “That so?” Her eyes, already hardened by the whiskey, iced over. “Too much of a lady to take pay for it, but not too much of a lady to give it away.” Sarah curled her fingers into a fist, then forced them to relax again. She would not resort to violence, or be driven to it. “No. I wouldn’t care to work for anyone who beats their employees. Alice is with me now, Carlotta, and she’ll stay with me. If you ever put your hands on her again, I’ll see to it that you’re thrown in jail.”
“Oh, will you?” An angry flush darkened cheeks already bright with rouge. “I’ll put my hands on who I please.” She stabbed the fan into Sarah’s chest. “No prim-faced bitch from back east is going to come into my place and tell me different.”
With surprising ease, Sarah reached out and snapped the fan in two. “I just have.” She had only an instant to brace herself for the slap. It knocked her backward. To balance herself she grabbed a table and sent a statuette crashing to the floor.
“Your kind makes me sick.” Carlotta’s voice was high and brittle as she leaned toward Sarah. Whiskey and anger had taken hold of her and twisted her striking face. “Looking as though they wouldn’t let a man touch them. But you’ll spread your legs as easy as any.
You think because you went to school and lived in a big house that makes you special? You’re nothing out here, nothing.” She scooped up a fat plaster cherub and sent it crashing into the wall.
“The fact that I went to school and lived in a house isn’t all that separates us.” Sarah’s voice was a sharp contrast to Carlotta’s in its calmness. “You don’t make me sick, Carlotta. You only make me sorry.”
“I don’t need pity from you. I made this place. I got something, and nobody handed it to me. Nobody ever gave me money for fine dresses and fancy hats. I earned it.” Breasts heaving, she stepped closer. “You think you got Jake dangling on a string, honey, you’re wrong. Soon as he’s had his fill of you, he’ll be back. What he’s doing to you on these hot, sweaty nights, he’ll be doing to me.”
“No.” Amazingly, Sarah’s voice was still calm.
“Even if he comes back and puts your price in your hands, you’ll never have what I have with him. You know it,” Sarah said quietly. “And that’s why you hate me.” With her eyes on Carlotta, she began to pull on her gloves again. Her hands would tremble any moment. She knew it, and she wanted to be on her way first. “But the issue here is Alice, not Jake. She is no longer in your employ.”
“I’ll tell that slut when she’s through here.”
It happened so quickly, Sarah was hardly aware of it. She had managed to hold her temper during Carlotta’s insulting tirade against her own person. But to hear Alice called by that vile name while the girl was lying helpless and hurt was too much. Her ungloved hand shot out and connected hard with the side of Carlotta’s face.
The three women, and the one who had come creeping down the stairs to look in on the commotion, let out gasps of surprise in unison. Sarah barely had time to feel the satisfaction of her action when Carlotta had her by the hair. They tumbled to the floor in a flurry of skirts.
Sarah shrieked as Carlotta tried to pull her hair out by the roots. She had handfuls of it, tugging and ripping while she cursed wildly. Fighting the pain, Sarah swung out and connected with soft flesh. She heard Carlotta grunt, and they rolled across the rug. Crockery smashed as they collided with a table, each trying to land a blow or defend against one. Sarah took a fist in the stomach with a gasp, but managed to evade a lethal swipe of Carlotta’s red-tipped nails.
There was hate in Carlotta’s eyes, a wild, almost mad hate. Sarah grabbed her wrist and twisted, knowing that if the other woman got her hands on her throat she’d squeeze until all her breath was gone.
She had no intention of being strangled, or pumeled. Her own rage had her rolling on top of her opponent and grabbing a handful of dyed hair. When she felt teeth sink into her arm, she cried out and yanked with all her strength, jerking Carlotta’s head back and bringing out a howl of rage and pain. Other screams rose up, but Sarah was lost in the battle. She yanked and clawed and tore as viciously as Carlotta. They were equals now, with no barriers of class or background. A lamp shattered in a shower of glass as the two writhing bodies careened into another table.
“What in the hell is going on here?” Barker burst into the parlor. He took one look at the scene on the floor and shut his eyes. He’d rather have faced five armed, drunken cowboys than a pair of scratching women. “Break it up,” he
ordered as the two of them tumbled across the floor. “Somebody’s going to get hurt here.” He shook his head and sighed. “Most likely me.”
He stepped into the melee just as Jake strode through the parlor doors.
“Let’s pull them apart,” Barker said heavily.
“Take your pick.” But Jake was already hauling
Sarah up off the floor. She kicked out, her breath hissing as she tried to struggle away.
“Pull in your claws, Duchess.” He clamped an arm around her waist as Barker restrained Carlotta. “Get her out of here.” Carlotta shoved away from Barker and stood, her dress ripped at both shoulders, her hair in wild tufts. “I want that bitch out of here and in jail. She came in here and started breaking up my place.”
“Now, that don’t seem quite logical,” Barker mused. “Miss Sarah, you want to tell me what you’re doing in a place like this?”
“Business.” She tossed her hair out of her eyes.
“Personal business.”
“Well, looks to me like you’ve finished with your business here. Why don’t you go on along home now?”
Sarah drew on her dignity like a cape over her torn dress. “Thank you, Sheriff.” She cast one last look at Carlotta. “I am quite finished here.” She glided toward the door to the secret admiration of Carlotta’s girls.
“Just one damn minute.” Jake took her arm the second she stepped outside. She had time now for embarrassment when she noted the size of the crowd she’d drawn.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said stiffly, “I must get home.” She reached up to tidy her tousled hair. “My hat.”
“I think I saw what was left of it back in there.”
Jake ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked at her. She had a bruise beginning under her eye. It would make up to be a pretty good shiner by the end of the day. Her fashionable gray dress was ripped down one arm, and her hair looked as though she’d been through a windstorm. Thoughtfully, he tucked his hands in his pockets. Carlotta had looked a hell of a lot worse. “Duchess, a man wouldn’t know it to look at you, but you’re a real firebrand.”