“What the hell brings you to Central City?” Cole asked the young man.
The youth grinned. “Money, women, drink, maybe a job. I’ve lived up here off and on for a while now.” He put his arm around the woman. “Sorry about what happened back by Denver, mister, but the men I was with, I just couldn’t stop them. I didn’t know they were like that till I ran off with them. I didn’t want to rob you.”
Cole nodded slowly, watching his eyes. “I knew that. That’s why I let you go.”
“And because of the Confederate uniform,” he added with a grin. He still wore the tattered jacket.
“That, too,” Cole told him.
“Names Benny Reed,” Benny told him. “Apparently you don’t care for people to know your name, so I won’t ask.”
“Well, well!” the painted woman spoke up. “Is this the man you told us about in the stagecoach on the way up here, about how fast a draw he was?”
“Sure is!” Benny answered with a grin. “Small world, ain’t it?”
The woman gave Benny a look that told him to leave her alone with the handsome newcomer. Benny nodded to Cole. “See you around, mister. I live above the Wildcat Saloon if you ever want to find me. I can tell you how to get a job in the mines, if you want one. They pay real good.”
“I’ll think about it. I don’t really intend to stay that long,” Cole answered.
Benny shrugged and left, and the painted woman beside him eyed Cole hungrily, looking him over carefully, obvious appreciation in her eyes. Cole couldn’t decide if she was pretty or ugly, twenty or forty. She was a little plump, and her hair looked stiff.
“Well, I’ll be.” She put a hand against Cole’s chest. “Buy you a drink, mister? I’m Sassy Dillon, owner of this saloon. I just got back from Denver. I keep most of my money there. It’s safer than at any bank in this town or Black Hawk. I’m sure you can see why. There’s not much law around here. We’ve got a sheriff, but he can’t keep up with so many unruly men.”
Cole eyed the patrons of the Hard Luck Saloon, some in fancy suits, others looking as though they’d need to beg for their next nickel. Silk vests, torn pants, top hats, floppy, soiled leather hats. The room was blue with smoke and reeked of whiskey and un-bathed bodies. Painted women hung around the tables, asking if the men would buy them drinks, a ploy to get more business for the owner.
“I can see why you take your money to Denver,” he answered the woman, turning his eyes to meet hers. She had quickly removed the jacket-like top of her dress, brazenly exposing a low-cut neckline underneath. Cole glanced down at her bosom, thinking how some men might be tempted; but there was only one woman’s bosom he longed to touch and taste again. Trouble was, he just couldn’t let that happen. Even if Addy was here in Central, his purpose was only to make sure she wasn’t pregnant. That was his only reason for coming here. After he’d talked to her, he would leave. He had no doubt she would want it that way.
“How about that drink, mister?” Sassy asked. She put a hand against his chest. “Damned if you aren’t the best lookin’ thing that ever walked into my place. You ready to give out your name yet?”
Cole pulled his thoughts away from Addy and looked back down at Sassy, breaking into a grin. “Cole Parker. And I’ll take another shot of whiskey.”
Sassy ordered the drink, her hormones running full speed at the sight of Cole Parker. Tall, broad, flat stomach, handsome face, square jaw, a smile that would melt a statue, and eyes that made her ache. She wanted to run her hands through his wavy, black hair, taste those full lips, feel this one ramming himself inside her. She hadn’t planned this life. Circumstances had led her to this, and she had learned to enjoy men. Besides, she’d made damn good money sleeping with them, especially in the gold towns. Now she owned her own saloon, and she planned to eventually own more businesses as her body aged and made it impossible to sell her charms. “Here you go,” she told Cole. “So, how long have you been here?”
Cole slugged down the whiskey. “Just a few days. I’m staying at a hotel that has no right being called one, but at least it’s shelter, and they serve food there at reasonable prices.”
Sassy laughed. “In towns like this a man or woman can put up any kind of business and do good. Most folks think we should be more civilized. They’re building another church, talking about building a regular schoolhouse. I’d just as soon it stayed this way. Before you know it, women like me will be outlawed. We’ll be replaced by the prim and proper ladies of society, like the ones who live up in the hills, the wives of the businessmen and mine owners.” She chuckled, handing him yet another shot of whiskey. “You should have seen the woman me and Benny rode up here with in the stagecoach. Pretty as a picture, but so stiff and prim I almost felt sorry for her. Said she was comin’ here to teach school.”
Cole slowly lowered his now-empty glass. “That so?”
Sassy nodded. “Mrs. Addy Kane, she called herself. A war widow.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I feel sorry for women like that. I’ll bet the poor thing hasn’t had a man in years, and even when she did have one, she probably didn’t know how to enjoy it.” She put a hand to Cole’s waist. “Now I’ll bet you know how to give a woman a good time.”
Cole felt an old ache reawakened. So, Addy had made it to Central. All he had to do was find where she was staying. He’d ask her if everything was all right and then he’d leave. Trouble was, his heart beat faster just hearing her name. He looked down at Sassy. “I’ve had a few women enjoy my company,” he answered.
Sassy laughed. “I’ll bet you have! I’d like to be one of them. You ain’t married or anything like that, are you?”
His smile faded, memories of Bethanne and little Patty returning. “Not anymore,” he answered.
“Oh, I struck a nerve! I’m sorry, Cole.”
He sighed, thinking how maybe if he got a few things out of his system it would be easier when he saw Addy again, easier not to want her, easier to go away. “Aren’t you tired from your trip?” he asked Sassy.
“Not too tired for the likes of you.”
She smiled through painted lips, and Cole convinced himself that this was the only kind of woman he was worthy of from now on. He had already thrown his life away. He never should have let himself care even a little for the likes of Addy Kane. “You clean?”
Sassy laughed. “You bet! And if you’re worried, I’ve got those things some men like to use for protection. I get myself checked out by a doctor every couple of weeks. Hell, the prostitutes in places like this keep the doctors busier than anybody else!”
Cole shook his head and grinned. “Why don’t you show me your room, then?”
Sassy’s eyes lit up with pleasure. “Just follow me.”
The woman turned and picked up a bottle of whiskey from the bar, then took up one of her bags. “Take my other bag, will you?” she asked Cole. She proceeded up a flight of stairs, and Cole picked up the other bag and followed.
“Got any idea where that schoolteacher is staying?” he asked Sassy.
The woman turned on the stairway, frowning. “No. Why would you ask that?”
He shrugged. “Just wondered where women like that keep themselves in a town like this.”
Sassy studied his eyes. “You know her, don’t you? I know men, Mr. Cole Parker, and I thought I saw something funny in those blue eyes when I first mentioned that woman’s name. Now you’re asking where she’s staying.” She knit her eyebrows in wonder. “Now how would a gun-slinging, shiftless man like you know a proper lady like that?”
Cole leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “None of your business. It’s you I’ll be sleeping with tonight.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She shrugged. “Well, when it comes to ones like you, I take them any way I can get them.” She went on up the stairs and Cole followed her into a large room with red curtains and a brass bed. He kicked the door closed and took the whiskey from her, taking a long drink.
Fourteen
Addy smoothed the skirt of her dress as she disembarked the carriage that had been sent for her. She tugged at the matching jacket, upset that some of her dresses had been ruined on the long journey to Central. At least she had saved this one, one of her best summer dresses, a light blue cotton with dark blue trim that was sewn into a gentle swirl design around the skirt. The jacket was the same blue, edged at the short waist and at the cuffs and around the lapel and collar with the trim, the buttons also dark blue. Her hat was a small blue bonnet with little upturned edges, perched at an angle on top of her auburn hair, which she had twisted into a roll at the back of her head.
Mrs. Hester Collingswood had sent a messenger to Miss Ada’s boarding house to see if the new teacher had yet arrived, and upon learning she had, the messenger returned to tell her to take one day to rest from her long journey, and that the following day someone would come for her to take her to see Mrs. Collingswood. A carriage had indeed been sent. Addy was to breakfast with Mrs. Collingswood at her home.
It seemed silly to be so nervous, yet she was. After all, she had come so far, and she had no one and no place to return to if this job did not work out. She was here now and had to make the best of it. It would be nice to meet new people, make new friends. Apparently, in spite of the wild town Central was, those who ran the city were trying to civilize it and make it respectable. They were bringing in more teachers and treating her with such courtesy and dignity. Miss Ada’s was indeed a fine boardinghouse, amazingly clean for all the dirt streets and belching processing mills that surrounded what was apparently the only truly lovely spot in the area. These couple of hillside streets where the homes were located were quite elegant, the lawns neatly manicured.
Her room at Miss Ada’s was small but comfortable, with an adjoining room that held a wash table, mirror, bathtub and a chamber pot that a maid would empty twice a day. Her bed linen would be changed every two days. Clean lace curtains hung at her window, and a bright, braided rug decorated the hardwood floor.
Everyone who stayed at Miss Ada’s was someone of respect and prominence, visiting businessmen and their wives, a male schoolteacher, a woman who privately tutored the children of one of the wealthier families. The house was white, with roses all around it that were already in bloom. Miss Ada herself was an old maid of perhaps forty-five, Addy guessed, who had come here to live with a brother who had discovered gold in the nearby mountains, then sold his claim for a considerable amount of money just before taking sick. Miss Ada had nursed the man until his death and had inherited his money, which she used to realize a dream of her own, to own a boarding house. What more lucrative place for such an enterprise than a thriving town like Central, but the woman claimed she stayed only because she had fallen in love with living high in the mountains.
Addy breathed deeply, realizing that at least up here away from town the air smelled sweet and clean, full of the scent of pine. Already she was beginning to understand how someone could fall in love with this country. But it was lonely, too, in spite of the thousands of people who now swarmed the mountainsides looking for gold or helping extract it from deep in the earth. The loneliness came from being so removed from the rest of the world, and from the mere fact that half the people here had come to get away from the horrors of war, from bad memories.
She thanked the driver of the carriage, who said he had instructions from Mrs. Collingswood to wait for her. She approached a white picket fence and opened a small gate that led past manicured lawns and flower gardens, up a stony walk to a lovely home painted pale green with darker green trim. White shutters decorated the windows, and the front door was white with oval-shaped frosted glass in the center. She picked up the door knocker and rapped it, and moments later a woman wearing a white cap and apron answered the door with a smile. “You are Mrs. Kane?”
Addy nodded. “Yes. I believe Mrs. Collingswood is expecting me.”
“Yes, she is, come inside. I will show you to the dining room.”
Addy followed the woman down a hallway decorated with plants. The polished wood floor was made more lovely by a miriad of oriental rugs. They passed what Addy guessed to be the parlor, and at a swift glance she saw rose-colored velvet davenports and a matching love seat, as well as a white marble fireplace. Another room held a wall of books and a large desk—Mr. Collingswood’s study, she presumed. They reached a bright room with a huge dining table in the center. The light came from French doors that faced the rising sun, and a large chandelier hung over the table. Plants abounded, and the floor was covered with a velvet rug. A huge picture of a garden scene hung on the wall.
“Mrs. Kane is here, Mrs. Collingswood,” the maid spoke up.
“Thank you, Jenny.” An elderly woman with graying blond hair rose from where she had been seated at the end of the table. She smiled, her face revealing a woman who had been beautiful in her youth and was still beautiful in gracious manner. She wore a soft green day dress, her many slips rustling as she walked over to greet Addy. “Finally you have arrived,” she said. “You’re a few days late, Mrs. Kane. Do tell me what problems you had getting here. It was such a long journey.”
The woman put out her hand and Addy took it, shaking it lightly, thinking how bony the hand was, although the skin was soft. “Yes, it was, Mrs. Collingswood. It would take all day to tell you everything that happened to me on the way here.” Should she tell it all? Perhaps she would leave out being abducted by outlaws. The woman would wonder if she’d been raped, and perhaps that would put a stain on her reputation. If only Mrs. Collingswood knew the stain she really did carry. She must put all that behind her. What else could she do? There was no need for anyone ever to know, and this woman would put her out of her house if she knew the truth.
“Well, come sit down, and tell me most of it. We have plenty of time,” Mrs. Collingswood told her. “Jenny will serve us a nice breakfast. Would you prefer tea or coffee?”
“Tea would be nice.” Addy took a chair around the corner from where Mrs. Collingswood sat back down at the head of the table.
“Now, first, do call me Hester. May I call you Adrianne?”
“Addy is fine. That is how I have always been addressed.”
The woman studied her intently with discerning gray eyes. “And you studied at Hope College in Michigan, according to your resume.”
“Yes, ma’am … I mean, Hester. I received a teaching degree. That is where I met my husband, but we were married only a few weeks before he went off to war … never to return.”
Hester frowned. “How sad. I’m sorry, Addy. And there has been no man in your life since?”
Addy thought it a very nosey question, but she supposed it seemed important to those who had hired her. Her heart rushed at the memories. Oh, yes, there had been a man, one who had made her feel alive and on fire, one who had made it impossible for her to be a proper lady, a man whose touch … “No one,” she answered, hoping her eyes showed the same sincerity with which she spoke the words. “It’s been four years. My father was also killed in the war, and my mother died not long after. I have a sister in St. Louis, but she’s married and has children and her own life to live. I … needed to get away from the past and hoped to start a new life here in Central.”
Hester breathed deeply with a satisfied smile. “And indeed you shall. I will introduce you to many of Central’s finest, including available men who are respectable enough for a woman of your education and station to see. We do, however, expect discretion and proper etiquette from our first female schoolteacher. We have six male teachers already, and we felt that a female was necessary. There are times when the young girls at the school might have questions or needs that they are afraid to discuss with a male teacher.”
Addy nodded. “I see. I do appreciate the offer and look forward to my first teaching job.”
Jenny brought in a tray holding a pot of tea, cups, cream and sugar, and warm biscuits. “I’ll bring your eggs and ham in a few minutes,” she told Hester. She poured t
ea for both women and left again.
“So, back to my original question. We have so much to discuss about your job and what is expected of you,” Hester said, picking up the cream and pouring a little into her tea, then handing the creamer to Addy. “But first do tell me about your trip here. My own husband and I came here from Chicago. Stuart owned many businesses there. Now our two sons run them. My husband always wanted to come West, and once our sons were grown and able to take over things back home, he decided to live his dream before he dies. He’s a pharmacist, and because of the wealth he gained in Chicago, he was also able to open a bank here in Central. We have been here four years. I’ll certainly never forget my own trip here. It was entirely by wagon, but what a parade it was!”
The woman leaned back her head for a moment in memory. “Stuart hired several wagons and drivers to bring all our finest things. Luckily we had no major problems, but it was a hard journey for people our age. Stuart made up for the hardship by hiring builders when we reached Denver, as well as buying most of the material that would be necessary for building me a fine home once we got here. I probably don’t need to tell you what a frightening trip it was, coming up here through Clear Creek Canyon with all those wagons and supplies!”
Addy laughed lightly. “I can’t imagine such a venture.” She realized Mrs. Collingswood would much rather talk about herself than hear Addy’s own story, and she sipped her tea while the woman rattled on.
“Well, here we are, and I am so pleased with my home. Isn’t it amazing what a man can do when he sets his mind to it? A few years ago there was nothing up here but wilderness and mountain lions and grizzlies. Now the mountains rumble from dynamite, we have a whole city, and Black Hawk is not far away. The mountainsides are peppered with mines, and men like Stuart are able to bring in all the finest materials to make life here as close to living back East as possible. I cried when we first came here, sure it would be impossible to live a civilized life.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked at Addy again. “Again I have taken us off the pathway of our conversation. Did you have problems getting here?”
Until Tomorrow Page 18