Stolen Dreams (The Rivers Brothers Book 2)

by Lynn Landes

  The Sheriff walks Mr. Brigs out, Chase watches them leave, and he goes over the lack of evidence in his mind. Addie and two other girls are working the room, dressed in brightly colored corsets which push their breasts up for the men to feast their eyes on. Long skirts and tights, with hair, piled high upon their heads and painted on smiles.

  “You’re lookin’ fine tonight, Miss Addie,” one cowboy slurs and reaches for her only to be pushed away.

  "You can look, but don't touch. This dress is my favorite," she teases with a sexy smile. Her eye catches Chase, and her smile falters for a moment before brightening at his next words.

  “Miss Addie, you would look good in a paper bag!”

  "Don't tell my dress designer that, he would be furious. He spent two weeks on this one." Laughing, she spins away, and Chase grins.

  "Of course," he whispers. Hurrying to the bar, he flags Roy over and hands him a silver coin. Roy looks surprised for a moment and then gives him a key to an upstairs room. He grabs a bottle of whiskey and heads to the stairs. The Dusty Boots is more than just a saloon. If one has an interest in a companion, Roy is the man to see.

  Chase stomps past the patrons and upstairs, down a winding hall to the back of the building. He unlocks the door and steps inside to wait for Addie. A gas lantern is lit, and he opens the window for some fresh air, then pours another whiskey. Staring out the window, he's surprised to see a mountain view.

  Addie opens the door and waits for the moment his eyes connect with her, then flips his coin back to him. “I’m not interested, Chase. Even a whore has standards.” Anger, betrayal, and hurt are reflected in her brown eyes.

  "Addie, I came to apologize. Give me five minutes, and I'll go," Chase stands quickly.

  Surprise flickers, but she quickly hides it. “Five minutes, that’s all.” Closing the door softly she stares at him and waits.

  Chase clears his throat and sets his whiskey down. "Addie, I've thought about what you said, calling me a monster and I fear it might true. I'm not the same man I was before I left for the war. I hardened my heart to protect myself and keep from going mad." His tormented eyes meet hers seeking forgiveness in the oddest place. He sits heavily in a wooden chair, and it groans under the weight of the tortured soul it holds.

  To say Addie is shocked would be an understatement. “Chase, I was scared. I thought he was going to kill me. I spoke harshly.” She sits on the edge of the bed and reaches for his hand, but he jerks back from her.

  "No, don't let me off so easily, Addie." His voice grows stronger, "I thought about it." Hardened eyes stare into hers without flinching. "Letting him kill you. It would have made my job easier if I'd just taken the shot. I'm sorry I scared you. I can only ask for your forgiveness."

  "God, Chase. What did the war do to you?" Addie stands up and opens a drawer to take out a cigarette. He watches her closely, and the urge to take and use her to forget is almost too much to bear.

  Addie lights up and turns to look at him. Recognizing the look of hunger, she takes a long draw before smashing the cigarette and steps closer to him removing his cowboy hat. Her fingers through his hair while his hands go to her waist to pull her close.

  "I feel sorry for you, Chase. If you only go through life weighing the value of a person, you'll miss their true worth." She leans down close to his mouth and whispers, "I may be a whore, but I know my true value," her hand fists roughly in his hair jerking his head back. She leans close almost touching his mouth with hers, "and you won't find the answers you seek between my well-used thighs." Addie shoves the cowboy hat back on his head and jumps when Chase laughs.

  “I deserve that. Thank you, Addie. I will do better in the future, I swear it. Now, I need some information.”

  Addie snatches up his whiskey and sips on it. “Fine, but I’m keeping the coin.”

  Chase tosses the coin back to her, and she smiles, "What can I do for you?"

  “These sexy outfits you wear, who makes them?”

  Surprise flickers, “I have them made by a local dressmaker. Why?”

  “I need to know where someone would go to have multiple made?”

  "That depends on the trimming. Lace, ribbons, sequins, and such." She sits on the side of her bed and kicks off her shoes. "No respectable dressmaker would make costumes for soiled doves. If they do, it would be done in secret." They talk for a little while about the business of dressmaking until he stands up.

  “You’ve been a huge help. Thank you.” He places a ten-dollar silver coin on her dresser. Stepping in front of her he tilts her chin up to look in her chocolate eyes. “I’ll never forget your value again.” He kisses her brow.

  Tears fill her eyes, “Thank you, Chase. I hope you find some peace.”

  Walking to the door, he stops, “I plan on it.”

  As he rides out of town, headed for home, Chase thinks about these four young women. If he had taken the shot and let Addie die, he would have been no better than a murderer himself. It occurs to him what a slimline he walks between sanity and insanity. This killer placed no value in their lives, and he believes he's gotten away with it. A burning desire to find justice for those who can't claim it for themselves erupts inside Chase, and he remembers. He remembers what drove him to become a soldier and why he became a United States Marshall. Chase smiles and rides for home.

  Chapter 8

  "New York," Bronnah smiles at Lizzy and her new husband. They've been inseparable the past five days, as they should be. Lizzy helped her pack, and they'd cried together, laughed together, and if Bronnah is truthful, she's partially relieved. To see Lizzy happy fills her with joy and she's excited to be free for the first time. Free of responsibility and free to start her own life.

  All the first-class passengers gather on the top deck, ready to depart. The health checks are over, and anyone found to be ill is transported straight to the infirmary. Bronnah hugs Lizzy, and both are in tears when it comes time to separate. The first-class passengers will depart first. Arm in arm, they walk together down the wooden plank and onto the smaller ship to take them to the Castle Gardens.

  “I will write to you as soon as I can, Elizabeth. Be happy,” Bronnah whispers when the ship docks and they separate into their selected lines. Married couples go one direction while singles go another.

  “I am. I will be, he’s wonderful. Promise me that you will choose wisely. Have an open heart, you deserve to be happy.”

  “I promise.” Bronnah smiles and hugs her tightly. Turning quickly, she heads down the line with her small satchel holding her travel documents and money. Bronnah doesn’t look back for fear that she will change her mind. Stiffening her spine, she looks up and gets into the line that corresponds to the tag on her trunk.

  Sooner than she wished for it's her turn. "Name and destination?" The clerk asks.

  “Bronnah O’Dalaigh, I was told to ask for Mrs. Killian.” Papers are shuffled, and the clerk stands up.

  “Right this way, Miss.” The clerk leads Bronnah out of the crowds and down a long hallway into a holding room. Inside the room are fourteen other young women in varying dress and ages. “Wait here, please.”

  Bronnah smiles as she glances around the room and for once, she's glad Lizzy insisted she change dresses. Lizzy chose a cream day dress with a tight waist and light blue trim for Bronnah to meet the man who will become her husband. She would hate to meet him looking a mess. The women are all excited and chatting amongst themselves when an older woman enters the room followed by three others.

  With a clap of her hands, the ladies fall silent. “Welcome. I am Mrs. Killian. I’m sure you’re are all excited and tired from your long journey. We will be leaving in groups to go to the hotel. There, you will have a wonderful meal and have the evening to rest and recuperate before tomorrow’s meeting. In a moment, you will each be given a number when your number is called fall into line. That is how we will travel to the hotel.” A translator explains in two other languages, French, and German for those young women from othe
r countries.

  Mrs. Killian is a nicely dressed woman, mid-fifties, with a trim figure and warm smile. She holds a leather-bound ledger, and they quickly begin filtering through the fourteen women, referencing her book and handing out tickets. When it finally is Bronnah's turn, Mrs. Killian herself walks over.

  “Hello, your name is?”

  “Bronnah O’Dalaigh, from Ireland by way of England.” The woman flips through her papers and smiles.

  “I see, and your travel companion? Did she not make the trip?” Mrs. Killian is glancing around for Lizzy.

  “No, unfortunately, she couldn’t come. She did, however, ask me to pay you for the cost of her ticket.” When Bronnah tries to hand her the money, Mrs. Killian stops her.

  “Call me Rose. Keep your money. Many die on the trip over or don’t follow through, but I appreciate the honesty. You’re striking, Bronnah. I find it hard to believe you aren’t married.”

  "I'm widowed," Bronnah said suddenly aware that the room is broken up into groups and waiting on her.

  “Right. Here is your ticket. You will be with the Poppy group. I named each after a flower.” She laughs and guides Bronnah to a group of three other girls. Immediately, Bronnah notices how beautiful the others are. “Let’s go.” The next hour passes in a blur of excitement for everyone.

  Bronnah's group is led down the hallway and out the back door into a covered coach. The four of them climb inside, and Mrs. Killian gives the driver directions. One of her helpers climb up front, and they are off.

  As they are pulling away from the gardens, Bronnah wonders about the other groups. Looking at the other girls, it is obvious they were sorted by looks. She doesn't know whether to be terrified or flattered. Does that mean the men looking for wives were only seeking a certain kind of wife?

  Two of the girls in the carriage are French, and one is German. Bronnah's French is superb, but her German is rusty. Before Bronnah can introduce herself one of the girls speaks. Oddly enough, they all speak English. "I'm Helene," the German girl says.

  Introductions are quickly made, Emma and Diane traveled together from France as she did with Lizzy. Conversation stops as they take in the sights. The city is aglow with lanterns and tons of people. Even at night, the streets are crowded. The ride is over quickly, and when they emerge, they are standing in front of a beautiful three-story brick hotel with beautifully sculpted gardens. Bronnah walks a few steps away to look over the grounds and is surprised when a young Asian boy steps out of the shadows.

  "Please, you help?" He's obviously destitute. His clothes are threadbare, and he's barefoot and dirty. Bronnah is instantly reminded of her brother. Digging in her little bag, she pulls out the twelve dollars she saved for the trip. His eyes fly open wide, and he bows, thanking her. With a glance, back at the group, she's with, he turns and runs back into the shadows.

  "This way please, ladies, Rose calls. You will find your accommodations superb." Bronnah hurries to catch up, and a bellhop opens the doors, and they walk inside a gorgeous lobby. A large fireplace is lit, and the lush green carpet and velvet burgundy walls are luxurious to Bronnah's eyes.

  They walk down a long hallway towards the back of the hotel, stopping at a door. Pulling out a key she opens it revealing a suite, which opens into a large sitting room. A fresh tea service is rolled in on a silver tray and the girls all smile and look around. “You will share this suite. Two in each room and Mrs. Davis will be by later to check on you.”

  “Excuse me, when do we meet our husbands?” Helene asks.

  "Tomorrow. We thought it best that you rest your first night and clean up from your travels. Your trunks will be delivered by then. For tonight you have each been provided a night dress. Please enjoy some tea, it's a special blend, and the biscuits are fresh from the kitchen."

  She leaves as quickly as she arrives, and Helene pours tea and offers one to each girl. “How about a toast to our new lives?” she suggests. They clink their cups together and smile.

  Emma, Diane, and Bronnah all sip on the hot brew and sigh. "This is unique. I think I taste cinnamon, ooh and cardamom," Bronnah observes drinking her tea. She picks up a biscuit and munches on it while walking over to a pair of French doors while the other girls explore the suite.

  The doors open to a lovely garden with more gas lanterns and she's desperate to explore after being cooped up on the ship. Bronnah finishes her tea, setting the cup down on a small table, and steps over to look at a rose bush. Inhaling the strong fragrance, she's surprised when the little boy from earlier pops out from behind it.

  “Oh!” Bronnah grabs her heart, “You scared me. What’s your name?” He’s staring at her and frowning behind her.

  "Bad lady. You must come!" He tries to pull her with him, but Bronnah isn't budging.

  “What? I'm sorry I don't understand?” she asked.

  "I show you, bad lady. Kai knows things. I show you." He pulls harder, and Bronnah decides to go with him.

  “Kai, stop pulling, I’ll go with you.”

  Kai looks up at her and nods. "Be very quiet, bad lady," he whispers, and he guides her to the back of the hotel where the kitchen door is for the employees. Light floods into the garden and Bronnah's heart is pounding hard in her chest. Nerves flutter, and she wonders what she's doing following this strange child. They stand in the shadows behind a set of large bushes, and she can hear voices. Mrs. Killian is speaking to someone, and they are excited. Kai listens and pulls her down on the ground.

  "Yes, I'm telling you these four will bring a pretty penny. I'm talking thousands. Tell Mr. Chen and his partners they will be on the next train for San Francisco. Four new brides for the red district. Just keep feeding them the tea and biscuits, and they won't know what hit them."

  "Mr. Chen was not happy about the last four girls. They were not delivered on time, Rose. He's demanding that these four replace those lost, at no cost to him. The next batch will be sent to Brigham City via the new Rivers Railroad car." A Chinese woman dressed in a gorgeous green silk gown steps outside to get fresh air.

  “Of course. It was a necessary loss. Their families were looking for them, thankfully the Marshall was easily paid off. Besides now that we have an overseas market the chance of loved ones looking for these girls is no longer a concern. These young women will soon be flying high from the tea to fight. I would expect him to pay more for this batch. These ladies will bring a high dollar to those paying for whores. Did you bring the tea?”

  "I did. Don't give them too much. On a fresh system, it could cause seizures or death. Just enough to make them pliable." Rose nods as she takes the glass bottle with pink liquid inside. "I put two droppers for each girl, depending on size." She shows the dropper and begins to steep the next batch of tea. The woman returns to the kitchen, and Kai watches where she stashes the liquid opium. He waits for them to leave before turning back to Bronnah.

  Bronnah stands up horrified. ‘She said whore' she thinks, and the world spins.

  “Come!” Kai whispers and pulls at her but Bronnah jerks away.

  “I can’t leave them!” They have no idea what’s in store for them!

  A wave of dizziness has her clinging to the back of the building. Twice Bronnah stops to vomit. She stumbles to her knees and tries to speak, but her tongue feels swollen in her mouth.

  When Bronnah makes it to the double doors, she stumbles inside and finds all three of the girls laughing. Kai hides behind the bushes outside and thinks about leaving her. These people kill without a second thought. Sitting down in the dirt he decides to wait until dark and then sneak into the kitchen to retrieve the drops.

  “Bronnah!” Helene pulls her into the room and hugs her as if she’s known her all her life. Emma and Diane are finishing a second cup of tea when someone knocks on the door. “I’ll get it.”

  Diane flings open the door and a second tray is brought in with fresh tea. Bronnah staggers to a chair and sits down heavily as her limbs feel like she’s moving through water. ‘Heavy, they fe
el so heavy,’ she thinks.

  “Hello, ladies. I brought more tea.”

  “I love tea!” Helene giggles and refills their cups. Mrs. Killian glanced around and smiles until her eyes find Bronnah. “Make sure you drink up,” she murmurs as she steps in front of Bronnah. Her head is too heavy to lift, and she can only stare at her.

  “Bronnah, are you alright?” she asked softly and bends down to look at her. Her pupils are dilated to tiny pinpoints, but she seems aware of what is going on around her. “Not to worry, we will take good care of you.”

  Helene dances and spins with Emma and Diane oblivious of the danger they are in. A tear leaks from Bronnah's green eyes and trickles down her cheek. Mrs. Killian goes to the door once more and opens it, bringing in the Asian woman from the kitchen and three others to help. They are carrying arms loads of clothes, jewels, and one brings in bath oils, salts, and towels.

  “Eve, I will leave you to dress Bronnah. It seems to have hit her harder than the others. I’d hate to lose her.”

  "Some people react harshly to the drops, we shall see." Glancing closely at Bronnah's eyes. Eve frowns and lifts Bronnah's wrist to take her pulse and finds it pounding hard. "It will wear off soon. She's exquisite." Eve lifts Bronnah's chin to look in her eyes and smiles softly. "Yes, Mr. Chen will want her for himself."

  "Girls it's time for baths!" Mrs. Killian claps her hands, and they all giggle. "I love baths!" Emma said.

  “Perfect,” Rose sits her ledger on the table near the fireplace and leads them with the help of two other girls into the bedroom.

  Bronnah finds that the evening passes in a blur. From time to time, she sleeps while she is stripped, bathed, oiled and dressed. Her hair is twisted into a crown braid, over the top of her forehead, giving the illusion of a tiara. The rest is left loose in long white blonde curls, and her eyes are lined in black eyeliner. If her eyes were pretty before, now they are shocking. Eve and Mrs. Killian stare at Bronnah and speak softly.