*
Trish stared at Zelda as she pulled her stockings up and straightened her skirt.
"Well, ya can't expect me to marry him just 'cause he saved my hide, can ya?" Zelda asked.
"Well, no, I guess not. I mean, he saved my bacon the other day, too."
"See what I mean? Quinn's a good man but he rescues every woman he sees from everything. His constant rescuin' of every dame in the valley is downright infuriatin'. I was sittin' right there when he saved little old Penelope from her own stupidity not too long ago. What woman tries to take honey from a beehive? It was right funny, tho'. All them bees swarmin' round her like she was the queen bee. I just 'bout busted my ribs laughin'." Zelda rested her hand on her ribcage as if for support should she start laughing again.
"So how did Quinn save her? Did he swat them all or what?"
"Gracious me, no." Zelda grabbed Trish at the waist and proceeded to involve Trish in a mock rescue. "He grabbed the old goat around her waist and jumps in the river. She come up sputterin' and spittin'. Mad as those bees, she was. Didn't help none. When Quinn seen them bees still swarmin' he dunks her again and keeps her down while they floated down the river a piece. Don't know how long a walk they had. But I'm sure it was longer for Quinn than it was for her."
"How so?"
"She was beatin' him with a stick when they got back." Zelda beat the air with her invisible stick. Trish felt her lips tug into a smile. "Took her almost a month to thank him for savin' her from herself. He hasn't tried to save her since. She left some mighty mean welts on his back and arms. I should know, I doctored 'em. So how did he save your bacon?"
"I'd rather not say."
"Come on, girl. What's more fun than laughing about the stuns we dames pull when we ain't got the sense to know better?"
"I'm surprised you ask."
Zelda got a perplexed expression on her face. "How so?"
"You just said his chivalry infuriated you. I don't want to get on your bad side."
Zelda reached for Trish's arm, a gentle smile on her lips."You're different. Besides it isn't so much what Quinn does but that dame’s lack of thanks that infuriates me."
Trish burst into laughter.
Zelda smirked before adding, "Featherless fowls ain't good for nothin'."
"Except chicken soup."
Both of them succumbed to fits of laughter.
Zelda gasped, "And varmint traps!"
"Oh, I can see it now. Poor naked bird hobbled to a trap." Trish gulped. "Squawking and squealing like a stuck pig."
"Tie the bird on the hogs back and watch the show."
"Spur, bird. Spur." Trish yielded to more laughter, tears coursing down her cheeks while Zelda seemed able to grasp reality quicker.
Zelda stepped to the mirror and primped.
Trish lay on the bed, dabbing her cheeks with her bath sheet and asked in a serious tone, "What did Quinn save you from?"
"Hal Durant. That man was plumb mean. I didn't know that at first, though. I guess it wasn't all bad but when a man takes ya real rough like that and then teaches ya to pleasure him, well, I was an excellent student. I had to be to survive. I'm not proud of it, but I am who I am, and I guess I owe it all to Hal Durant and Quinn."
"Durant taught you to--"
"Be a whore. You can say it, it's the truth, plain and simple." Zelda settled on the edge of the bed.
"And how does Quinn come into your story?"
"Best I can figure is that Quinn laid a bet on the poker table that Durant couldn't resist. Durant had to ante up, guess he put his latest prize on the table. Me. Durant lost and Quinn won. He packed me up and brought me here. I'm not complaining, but I got no right being a housewife. Not that I'd wanna be shackled to one man and a parcel of kids. Keepin' house and fixin' meals ain't for me. Rather make my own choices than have others’ needs make 'em for me." Zelda shrugged her shoulder back with self-respect.
"I may be a whore, but I get to choose and name my price. Durant's girls don't get that. He chooses the richest old cronies and names the price in exchange for the twit's survival. San Francisco can be a right dangerous place."
Zelda's expression darkened. "Those were desperate days for a twit like me. It had been hard when Mama was alive but after she died, I had no one and nothing. Durant found me in the alley beggin' for scraps."
"I'm sorry."
Zelda waved her dismay aside. "Best day of my life. Imagine me in one a those fancy tubs, with more bubbles that I could count!"
Trish stared at Zelda, not sure what to think.
"I love a hot bath. There ain't no harm in it. Now ya know what Quinn saved me from. Your turn."
"Um—I guess my story is similar to yours, except I wasn't raped and the man wasn't the original danger, my own stupidity was."
The room was silent and although Zelda trusted Trish enough to share stories, Trish knew she couldn't trust anyone. She must be careful to keep her secret. She'd come here for an adventure, not to swap life-changing stories.
"So that's all ya have to tell me? Ya ain't much of a storyteller are ya?"
"Not really." Trish reached for the clothes Penelope had given her. Zelda placed her hand on Trish's outstretched arm.
"You don't think the worst of me, do ya? I mean -- I'm not a bad person."
Trish smiled. "I don't think you're a bad person. A harlot, but not a bad person."
Zelda chuckled, "I never thought of myself in the same class as the women in the Bible."
Trish shifted and squinted at Zelda. "You've read the Bible?"
"Of course. Mama did her best to teach me how to read. I just never considered myself like that. I guess I thought I was better. Guess taking a bath in a tub doesn't make me better, does it?"
"Prostitution is the oldest profession in the world. I have to think there were some pretty savvy business women somewhere along the way."
"I guess I'm in business for myself. It's a lot easier than working in the field all day. I can't stand that backbreaking work." Zelda cackled. "Gotta say it's much easier being on my back. Pays better, too."
Trish shook her head and stepped into her skirt. "You're a business woman. I have to respect that."
"Well, I thought of being a preacher, but these folks nearly stoned me last time I called a church meetin'."
"They didn't," Trish exclaimed.
"Oh yes, they can't agree on doctrine but they sure agreed on one thing, stone the whore. I'd even put on my best dress and gave a right first class sermon. Old man Janus gets up in the middle of my sermon an' starts the fiasco. Ya know I never have taken his money when he comes in the saloon, pantin' all over me. The old fart couldn't pay me enough. I have my principles." Zelda smoothed the paisley bed covering. Her expression saddened. "I don't get it. Janus can try and buy a harlot and preach every Sunday and nobody bats an eye. Me, I show up to worship and the church goers start throwin' things."
Trish smiled, trying to imagine Zelda at church.
"Ya laughin' at me?" Zelda question held a smidgeon of insecurity.
"I just can't see you preaching with your skirts showing your ankles and most of your shoulders while the other stiff collared preacher is thumping his Bible about being baptized or being damned."
"You don't think I dress like this to go to church, do you? I have a right proper Sunday goin' to meetin' dress. High-neck and long-sleeves. I have kid gloves too." Zelda lifted her chin with pride and stood. The previous hint of insecurity found its way to Zelda's features. Her brash pride took a back seat to the hurt. "Just ain't got no place to wear it if I don't go to church."
Zelda crossed the room to her armoire and shuffled clothes. At last she withdrew a fashionable costume of soft blues and crisp gray.
"Oh Zelda, it's beautiful."
"I don't have much use for it. Do you want to try it on?"
A knock sounded at the door. Zelda handed the clothing to Trish and started toward the door.
"Go behind the screen and try it. That's the dre
ss Quinn bought me before we came here." She smiled reminiscently, putting her hand on the doorknob. "Guess he was plumb determined to bring a lady to this valley."
Trish slipped behind the screen as Zelda opened the door.
Chapter 13
The Talisman - Crisscross Page 16