by Alice Addy
Sam was livid and was not going to let his young man get away with touching Eve. She was lookin’ too happy and was enjoyin’ the cowboy’s attentions, too much.
“I’ll meet you out in front. I assume you have a sidearm?”
Ty came awake immediately. “What? What do you mean . . . a sidearm? You gonna shoot me for talkin’ to the lady?”
“Will I have to, cowboy?” Sam’s face was hard and his mouth grim.
Ty could see the gambler’s body was tense with the expectation of a fight. Ordinarily, he was not one to run from trouble, but he was also smart enough to know when he was outgunned. This gambler was a professional and Ty wouldn’t stand a chance. He looked up at Eve and apologized. “Forgive me, ma’am. I didn’t know you were engaged to this gentleman. I’ll not bother you again.” He stood and looked deep into Sam’s eyes.
“I’ll be leaving now, but know this, sir. If you threaten me again, I’ll face you in the street. In a fair fight, you may be surprised.”
Ty turned to Eve, tipped his hat, then left the way he had come.
Whiskey disengaged the shotgun he had readied. No way was he gonna let Sam Garrison goad that nice young feller into a gunfight. That young man was braver than most and smarter than all of ‘em. Yes, sir, Whiskey thought. He’d be a good match for his little Evie.
No sooner had Ty passed through the doors, than Eve turned on Sam. “How dare you? Don’t you ever do that again. I will speak to whomever I so choose—whenever I choose. And for your information, Sam Garrison, we are not engaged. You don’t own me, and you can’t tell me what to do. Got it?”
“Eve, darlin’. You’re being childish. You know we belong together. Frieda and Whiskey aren’t getting’ any younger and you won’t be able to run the place by yourself. Just think of it, sugar. You and me, together. We can make some big changes in the place and it’ll start payin’ off, too. The Six Gun could be a gold mine.”
Sam smiled his brightest, trying to gently coax Eve over to his side. He placed his finger under Eve’s chin. “I can make you very happy, darlin’,” he cooed. Everything was planned and he wouldn’t let this slip of a girl ruin it.
“I would rather muck out stalls filled with horse dung than to go into business with you, Sam ‘the gambler’ Garrison!”
Sam grabbed Eve roughly by the elbows and lowered his voice. “You will do exactly as I say, you spoiled little girl, or things will go very badly for those you love. You can either be with me, or you can suffer the consequences. Got it?” he asked menacingly. With a quick shove, he let go his grasp of Eve’s arms, leaving bright red marks on her soft flesh. With a slight smirk, he left her standing there, with tears in her eyes and knots in her stomach.
Eve now saw his true colors. He was black hearted, and she couldn’t believe that at one time, she foolishly thought he was wonderful.
She didn’t go downstairs that evening, asking instead to take her dinner in her room. She was frightened and didn’t know where to turn. She’d had a young girl’s crush on the handsome gambler, when he first arrived in town, but as she had gotten to know him better, she found she wasn’t comfortable being around him. Sam was always telling her what to do, and he watched her every move. He was growing more and more critical of her singing and dancing, refusing to let her out into the crowd. She was told not to speak to the men, as they were “up to no good”.
Eve also overheard Sam making suggestions to Frieda and Whiskey on how to improve their profits. They needed to add more card tables and more women. If they watered down the drinks, just a little, they could stretch the liquor. The fools gamblin’ would never notice the difference. He was relentless and insisted that they give his ideas a chance. It was time for Eve to tell Frieda and Whiskey all the things that were bothering, her about the man.
Sam was a good gambler, but Eve had noticed he could be ruthless when crossed by a player. Should she tell Frieda of her concerns? Surely it was an empty threat to hurt the people she loved. Eve decided not to take a chance. They deserved to know what he was threatening to do.
But for now, Eve had to get ready for her show, so she decided, the first thing tomorrow morning, she would gather Whiskey and Aunt Frieda in her room and tell them everything that was bothering her about Sam Garrison. Tonight, she just wanted to feel like her old confident and carefree self.
She went to her wardrobe and pulled out the red dress she had worn only once. Sam hated it and said it was too shocking for her to wear. She’d show him. It was a perfectly lovely dress and Whiskey said it was fine. “Who does he think he is?” she asked herself. “He doesn’t own me.”
As Eve glided down the stairs, to the saloon floor, she felt all eyes upon her. She smiled cordially at everyone, nodding her head politely, and proceeded over to the bar to stand close to Whiskey.
“Well, look at you, honey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my best girl all gussied up. You sure look pretty, Evie.”
That was the tonic for what ailed her. Already, Eve felt better. “Thanks, Whiskey. You’re just saying that because it’s factual,” she giggled. “I saw this old red dress hanging around and thought I might as well wear it one more time before I throw it out.” Eve had no intention of discarding her fabulous dress. She was just joshing with Whiskey and he knew it.
“You singin’ tonight, sweetie?” he asked.
“You betcha. I’m gonna sing ‘til I’m hoarse. By the way, I want to speak with you and Aunt Frieda tomorrow, before lunch. It’s serious and I don’t want anyone else to know we’re talking. Will that be all right?”
The big man was surprised at her tone. “Everythin’ good with you, Evie? Is this somethin’ I need to take care of?” His eyes darted over to his shotgun.
“No. I just have some concerns about Sam and I want to share them with you. Don’t worry. It may be nothing but an overactive imagination on my part, but be careful around him. He’s not to be trusted.
“Well, I’m off to sing, now. Watch them drop like flies.” Eve laughed over her shoulder, as she headed for the stage.
Eve made a point of ignoring the card tables and the ominous looks coming from the gambler. She knew Sam would not be pleased, but he’d just have to mind his own business and she would mind hers.
Ty Fenton had tried, but he couldn’t stay away from the Six Gunn and their beautiful little singer. Whenever he got the chance to ride into Hays City, he jumped at it. He looked for excuses to make the trip. His first thoughts upon waking, were of Eve. She was the last thing he saw when he closed his eyes. There was something about her that he couldn’t get out of his head. Yes, she was more beautiful than any woman had a right to be, but it was more than that. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. She was an enigma, for certain. The one thing he was sure of, was the fact that there was no way in hell that he’d believe a fine lady like her would fall in love with a bottom feeder like Sam Garrison. It made him sick to imagine that man putting his hands or his lips on her precious skin. If she was singing tonight, he was going to get her alone and have a chat—gambler or no.
“Hello, fellas. Wanna hear some singin’?”
The crowd roared to life.
“Got any requests?”
Again, the men cheered and fought for the best positions to watch Eve sing.
Ty had just entered the Six Gun, and was ecstatic that the little songbird was going to entertain them. He stood at the bar and nursed a whiskey, real slow. He’d talk to Eve after her show.
Eve was half way through her first number, when she saw the nice young cowboy standing at the bar. Excitement surged through her body, as she decided to take charge of her own destiny. She asked a big, burly rancher to help her down from the stage, and she waltzed over to where Ty was standing.
“Hi, ya, mister,” she whispered, as she continued to sing the song, just to him.
Ty was mesmerized. The closer she stood to him, the more beautiful she appeared. After finishing her song, she stayed where she was, and sang another song.
Then with the beginning of her last song, she pulled him toward the stage and settled him into an empty chair. As she slowly mounted the steps, she continued to sing soft and sensuously, just to him. The crowd thought this was all very funny. They hooted and hollered their appreciation. A few men tossed their hats into the air, but Sam was angry enough to murder them both.
How dare she defy him this way? She was taunting him, publicly. He’d been good to her and always tried to protect her virtue. Sam shook his head in disbelief. He should have known better than to believe she was special. She was just a little whore, like all women, and wasn’t worth his spit. He’d have to teach her a lesson. The whole town knew he was sweet on her and he would not be made to play the fool. This time tomorrow, she’d be more acquiescent. She’d submit to his authority or continue to pay the price.
“Game’s closed, fellas. I’ve got things to do. Now, get out!” he roared at the five men sitting at his table, as he flung cards across the table and onto the floor. He didn’t even bother to settle up with them before he charged out of the saloon. Taking his fist and slamming it into the first post he came to, Sam decided he not only hated Eve, but he didn’t need her, either. He could get everything he wanted without her help.
Eve was euphoric. Not only had she sung more songs in one evening than ever before, but also, she’d been able to perform for a man she really liked. Ty Fenton was special. He was open and friendly, not the least bit threatening. He made her feel all warm and womanly inside. Could this be love, she wondered? After her last number, she went to his side.
“Did you like the show, Ty?” Her eyes were luminous and her face was slightly pink from all the excitement.
“Oh, Miss Eve, I’ve never enjoyed anythin’ so much. I could watch you every moment, for the rest of my life. You’re very talented, but you’ve got this passion that sets you apart. Heck, I feel lucky just knowin’ you.”
“What a nice thing to say. Did I ever tell you that I like your face? There’s kindness there, and intelligence. With just one look, I can see you’re honest and caring; you’re the kind of man that can make a woman happy for the rest of her days.”
Ty didn’t know what to say, so he just grinned at her. “I’d like to come and hear you sing again.”
“Well, it’s a public saloon,” she grinned, shyly. “I would love to have you come again. Do you live close by?”
Ty looked surprised by her question. “Oh, no ma’am. My ma and pa own a nice little ranch, quite a far piece from here. It takes me about three hours, by wagon, to make the trip. I mostly come in about once a month, but here lately, I try to get in more often.” He blushed and bit his lip. She was the reason for the extra trips into town.
“Well, I live here, so anytime you want to visit . . . I’d like it if you’d stop by and say hello.”
“You can count on it, Eve. I’ll most surely stop by.” He took his hat—the one that he’d pulled completely out of shape with his fidgeting—and placed it on his head.
Eve couldn’t hide her laughter at seeing the way it fit him.
Backing toward the doors, he nearly tripped over his own big feet. “I’ll see you again soon, Miss Eve. Yes, ma’am, I surely will.”
CHAPTER FOUR
As Eve crawled into bed, she thought about the entire evening. It had been a wonderful night, like old times before Sam Garrison arrived. She was carefree again, and the crowd was so jovial and appreciative of her efforts, it made her heart soar. It was odd, however, that Sam had never approached her tonight to scold her. In fact, he had left early and she was glad. He never would have let her talk to Ty, and that had been the best part of the whole night. When she closed her eyes, it was Ty she saw . . . smiling back at her with admiration and an honesty that she found very appealing. He was good looking, too, but not in the same dark and dangerous way that made Sam so tempting. She soon drifted off to sleep, thinking about the handsome cowboy and dreaming of what their lives would be like, if they spent them together.
“Go away. It’s too early and I didn’t do it,” Eve growled from under the satin comforter. Barely opening one eye, she saw Frieda standing at the foot of her bed, with her hands resting on her broad hips and her bright red hair standing up all over her head. Whiskey was standing back by the door, afraid to come any closer to the grumpy sleepyhead.
“Now let’s get this straight, young lady. It was you who set up this secret meetin’ at this ungodly hour. It’s not quite nine in the mornin’, but here we are. The least you can do is be civil to us and tell us what’s on your mind.” Aunt Frieda was always direct.
Eve struggled to sit up, and pushed the riot of curls back from her face. “I’m sorry. I forgot I arranged this meeting, but I believe it may be important. You see . . . Sam is making me feel very uncomfortable.”
Whiskey interrupted. “That skunk! I’ll tear him limb from limb.”
“No, Whiskey. That’s not the problem. He’s convinced that I’m going to marry him and then we’ll continue working here, at the saloon, until you two are no longer around. Then he plans on big changes. He’s consumed with owning the Six Gun, and I believe he thinks he’ll get it through me. The other night, he threatened us all. He said if I didn’t do exactly as he said, he would punish those I love. I wanted to warn you: He’s bad. He’s far worse than anyone would have guessed. Have you noticed—even Lisette stays away from him now? It’s rumored that he hurt her. Was I wrong in telling you this?”
Whiskey looked like he was going to shoot somebody. His hands were clenched and his lips drawn tight against his teeth. Kind and understanding by nature, he had a strong sense of right and wrong, and he’d go to any length to protect those he loved.
Frieda looked worried. “You did the right thing, honey. I’ll take care of everything. After today, he won’t be ‘round here to bother you or anyone else. Whiskey’ll put the fear of hell into him. Now, go back to sleep, dear. I know I intend to.”
Of course, no one got any additional sleep. They could feel the tension in the air. This could be a really bad day if things didn’t turn out the way they had planned. Eve decided to go for a ride and let the wind ruffle through her hair.
Dressed in her new powder blue riding habit, Eve hurried to the stables. The fragrance of clean straw and warm horseflesh welcomed her. In the last stall on the right, Eve saw Ringo tossing his head. Oh, how she loved her horse. Not only was he beautiful, but he was her best friend. Many times he had helped her clear her head when she faced something painful or confusing. She’d had Pete, as a child, and now she had Ringo. They were her friends. Eve grabbed his blanket and took his saddle down from the wall. She had been saddling her own horse for years now. Today, however, Ringo was jumpy and shying away from her, making it difficult to get the bridle in place.
“What’s wrong, boy? Tell me what’s bothering you,” she asked in a comforting tone.
Eve was concerned with the way he was behaving. She opened the stall and led the magnificent sorrel out of the barn. He was pulling back and resisting her lead. His eyes were wild as he tossed his head high into the air and his body crashed into the side of the wall . . . just as if he didn’t see it . . . just as if he were blind!
Eve started screaming. “Oh, my God! No! No! Somebody help him. Please!” She grew more hysterical as she watched the magnificent horse thrash about the cluttered stable. For the first time in many years, tears flooded down her face and she couldn’t catch her breath. Her trembling knees could no longer support her weight.
The horse bolted from her and headed for the open door. Ringo ran sightless, out into the street and directly into the path of an oncoming stage. The scream of passengers and terrified horses was deafening, as the coach teetered precariously before righting itself . . . but sadly, not before the horses became entwined around each other.
Men ran to minimize the carnage. They grabbed at horse’s harnesses while trying to avoid the flying hooves, and struggled valiantly, until they had all of the animals subdued and on
their feet. All of the horses that is, with the exception of one. The magnificent sorrel lay on his side, twisted at odd angles. His eyes were rolled up in his head, as his mouth chewed his own leg.
Eve crumpled in the dirt beside her beloved Ringo. “Ooh, Ringo, darling. What happened?” she sobbed.
She didn’t take notice of Jack, the stableman, when he first arrived on the scene. It was his job to check on the horses.
Folks came running from all over to help the pretty lady and the injured animal lying in the street. Someone tried to help her stand, but all Eve wanted to do was hold Ringo’s head in her lap. “No, no,” she cried, as she shrugged off the consoling hands. “Let me be,” she pleaded.
Subdued voices murmured low and people shook their heads in dismay. It was a tragic sight watching the dear girl trying to protect her magnificent horse.
After a brief inspection, Jack spoke to Frieda. “Someone blinded him; caused him to panic and run out into the street,” he explained. “The horse has got to be destroyed. Eve cain’t see this,” the kind old man whispered. “Take her away, Miss Frieda,” Jack suggested, quietly.
Through her hysteria, Eve heard and understood every word the kind man had said, and she would have none of it. He was mistaken. Jack was a good and kind man, but in this, he was wrong. She had to speak out. “What? Destroy? No, you can’t!” she screamed. “He just can’t see! He stumbled. That’s all. I’ll help him up. You can’t shoot Ringo.” Eve was distraught and resisted her aunt’s arm. “He’s my best friend. You don’t understand!”
It was Frieda’s firm voice that caused her to quiet and take a breath. “Eve! Listen to me. Ringo’s in terrible pain, darlin’. Both of his front legs are broken and there’s no fixin’ ‘em. He’s scared, too. Now don’t go makin’ things worse than they already are. Everybody loves that horse.” She sniffed and had to clear the lump forming in her throat. “Come with me, Eve, and let John do his business.”