Ill Repute

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Ill Repute Page 4

by Nanette Kinslow


  “I suppose.” He rubbed his beard. “I do have a question, I mean, if we’re being honest.”

  “Go ahead,” she said.

  “What about falling in love?”

  “That’s something else entirely.”

  “What happens when, well, a prostitute falls in love? Do they?”

  “Sure. A couple of the women I knew fell in love. They were really happy in fact.”

  “How do you know the difference?” he asked.

  “Between having sex and being in love?”

  “Yeah. Did they fall in love with customers?”

  “You know, Joseph.” She leaned back on the bench. “I’ve never been in love.”

  “But, you’ve done everything with strangers, so how would you know?”

  “Not everything,” she said. “I don’t kiss anyone, ever.”

  He tried to consider her point of view. It was as if the world was an entirely different place to her.

  “Kissing is not allowed. Ever,” she said firmly.

  “I need to think about this.” He took another bite.

  “Do you understand now that I am capable of things besides having sex with men?”

  Joseph nodded silently.

  Alice looked down at her plate. “I did it again. What is it about this place that makes me so damned defensive? I know you’re trying to be nice to me. I’m just not a horrible person.”

  “When did you start?” He looked at her plainly, considering that she may have been young and had never known any other way.

  “Eight,” she replied.

  “Eight!” His fork clattered to the table. “You were just a kid. Damn, Alice.”

  “I was.” She had thought it about it several times recently as she came up along the west coast. There had been a lot of families on the trains and she’d met many young girls that were close to the age she was that first time. She had wondered as she watched them what kind of a man wanted a girl that was clearly a child. “I can’t explain why it started so young. It made sense at the time. There were men who were willing to spend huge amounts of money to be the first. But now that I’m older I think it would have been better to wait.”

  Joseph tried to imagine her as a child, alone with a stranger who was having her that way. He looked up at her and saw her differently. He tried to push the image from his mind. “Well I don’t know about the rest, but I will admit you can cook.” He walked to the stove and refilled his plate.

  “If you ever change your mind about sex though, let me know. I’m sure it would be nice,” she said, smiling at him kindly. He sat down and she noticed he blushed deeply.

  Chapter Six

  Joseph pulled his watch from his pocket and flipped it open. Despite the lingering daylight the hour was getting late. “I need to get some sleep.”

  “It’s so strange with the sun being out so much of the time. I can’t decide if I’m completely wide awake or completely tired,” Alice said as she stacked clean plates neatly on the shelf.

  “It seemed odd to me too that first summer. The days got longer and longer until there was no night at all. The sun just moved around in a little circle in the sky. I think the long, dark days in December are the hardest though,” Joseph said, putting his watch away. “We need to decide the sleeping arrangement.”

  “I could sleep with you, but I’ll want that first nugget back,” Alice chuckled.

  “I’m not sure I can get used to your candor,” he said. “But I am starting to appreciate the humor in it.”

  Alice smiled broadly. “I have pillows and such in my bag. We could line them up down the middle of the bed.”

  Joseph looked at the bed and scowled. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

  “I knew you still didn’t trust me.”

  “I could sleep on there.” He pointed to a bench along the wall.

  “You will not!” Alice drug out her luggage and pulled several quilts from the bag and a tightly coiled bedroll. “I’ll make myself a bed from this stuff in the corner there.”

  “You keep a bedroll in your bags?”

  “Just in case.” She winked at him and he rolled his eyes.

  Alice unfurled the mattress and shook out the blankets.

  “You can have the bed. I’m not going to make a lady sleep on the floor.”

  “It’s what I want, but thanks for the compliment.” Alice pulled her nightgown from another bag.

  “Call me when you’re changed,” he said as he stepped outside.

  She washed quickly and donned her most decent nightgown, put her robe on over it and tied the closures as closely as possible. It was very apparent that he was quite uncomfortable with any casual displays and she decided she did not want to torment him any further. She poked her head out the door, indicating that it was safe for him to return and stepped out as he came in, allowing him the same privacy. She could not help chuckling as she waited outside. She had seen hundreds of men naked, but if Joseph wanted privacy it was his home and she would respect his rules.

  When she heard his voice she stepped inside, closed the door snugly behind her and walked to her makeshift bed.

  “Thank you, Joseph,” she said softly as she lay down. “Should anyone ever ask, I will assure them that you are nothing if not a very chaste gentleman.”

  “I’m not sure that is a compliment.” She heard his voice low from across the room and she giggled softly.

  Alice lay quietly looking at the rough hewn wall beside her. The house smelled of fresh cut wood and warm stew. Even on her bedroll on the floor it was cozy and warm and she felt safe. She knew that she could not remain there long, but for the moment she felt more comfortable than she had in a very long time.

  “Alice?” She heard his voice low in the room.

  “Yes,” she responded quietly. “Did you change your mind about my offer?”

  Joseph lay silently for a moment before continuing. “You do know that you won’t be able to leave whenever you feel like it. That wagon only comes around occasionally and you can never be sure when.”

  “It does?” Alice sat up and pulled the blankets close to her. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What will I do until it comes again?” she asked uncertainly. She waited for an answer but Joseph only stared off into space.

  “How did you know where to look for gold?”

  “I don’t know. I just figured that you said it ran down with the stream and got caught. In Montana all kinds of things get trapped from the runoff of the snow. That’s where I thought we should look.” She lay back on the pallet and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

  “Was your mother’s house, or whatever you called it, on a farm or something?” he asked.

  “No, it was in the city, but I stayed on a few ranches when I was young.”

  “So you could be somewhere away from the house?” The thought made sense to him.

  “No.” She knew he would not care for her answer. “When I first started, the men who wanted me were mostly rich ranchers. They didn’t want to keep coming into the city, so I would live with them until they didn’t want me anymore. Then I’d work at the brothel. That happened several times.”

  Joseph rolled onto his side and tried to make her out in the darkness. He imagined her as a young woman, not more than a child, being sold like an animal. Despite his reservations he continued to speak to her.

  “Were they…” he said cautiously, “good to you?”

  “Mostly. The first one was not. Mama said he came around asking for me for months, offering more and more money. He was a politician in the city and a lot of people seemed to like him. When Mama decided it was time for me to go with him he took me out to his ranch. No matter how much she had tried to prepare me I guess I wasn’t ready. It was awful. He had a doctor there to examine me but it was terribly painful and afterwards he still expected sex. He brought me back the next morning and I was still in a lot of pain. Mama was re
ally upset with him, or maybe with me, I’m not sure. But I was not able to work for a long time.”

  “That happened when you were eight?”

  “Yes, but after that it was easier. The others, later, weren’t so bad.”

  Joseph lay quiet for several minutes going over her words.

  Alice recalled how upset her mother had been when she sent her to the politician, and even more so when he brought her home. Alice had even tried to keep her feelings to herself and not talk about how much she hurt or how angry everyone was with her, but it seemed to make no difference. After that it was always easier and most men weren’t usually violent with her.

  “How many?” he asked.

  “Ranchers?”

  “Men.”

  “I don’t know. Enough to make the money I guess. I was always busy.”

  Joseph thought about how she had looked in the open air with her hair down, smiling beneath the broad brimmed hat. “I’ll bet,” he said.

  Chapter Seven

  Joseph did not want to open his eyes. He lay in the bed and took a deep breath. Caught in the blissful state between a dream and reality he was sure he smelled fresh roasted coffee. He knew that he was in the bed in his cabin yet the aroma mingled with the scent of the woodstove and hewn logs. He opened one eye slowly and turned to the sound of movement.

  Alice had hiked her skirt up above her ankles in order to avoid soiling the hem while she foraged a little ways from the cabin. She’d dug up a deep taproot from a well-established dandelion and roasted it on the stove until it was dried and then ground it down in a hand-mill she had found on a shelf. Now it brewed in a tin coffee pot on the stove, filling the air with a scent very close to freshly brewed coffee.

  He watched her moving energetically around the room, still in bare feet, straightening here and there and peering into tins on shelves along the wall. She set two large mugs on the table and checked the dandelion brew. His feelings were very mixed about her. Admittedly her legs and ankles were shapely and the easy way she strode about without shoes both disconcerted him and left him with a comfortable, casual feeling. He had to admit that waking up to the smell of coffee, or whatever it was she had concocted, was wonderful. He hadn’t had a cup of the once-loved beverage in over a year. The relaxed domestic feeling was nice as well, he thought, exactly what he looked forward to with his fiancée, Yvonne, once he returned home. But this girl was not Yvonne, he reminded himself. She was a prostitute he was helping and nothing more. He stretched and decided he’d make the best of her being there. Perhaps he’d ask her for more suggestions on places to look for gold, dig deeper into the scorched spot upriver, and then send her on her way.

  He quickly went over in his mind a few things she would need if she remained for any length of time and decided he would speak to Jack about her as soon as possible.

  “Good morning.” She greeted him cheerfully when she saw him sit up in the bed.

  “Morning,” he responded, his voice deep.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to a few pots and such and I gathered the eggs.”

  “What do I smell?”

  “Dandelion coffee. It’s not the real thing, but the taste isn’t too bad. Unfortunately it won’t wake you up like the genuine thing. I didn’t find any coffee.”

  “There’s none up here, or in town. If that stuff tastes half as good as it smells you might want to start packaging it up.”

  “Would people give me gold for it?” She laughed.

  “It’s very possible.” He stretched his arms over his head and Alice stepped outside.

  Joseph pulled on his trousers over his long johns and ventured from the cabin. The hard packed earth felt cool against the soles of his feet. He had never ventured outside in his feet bare before and he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the sensation. He walked back into the woodland to relieve himself and strode back to the cabin. The sky was a vivid shade of blue and he looked out over the landscape, pulling the clear air into his lungs.

  Alice stepped up beside him. “I love the bustle of the city in the evening,” she said, “and the silence and fresh air of the mountains in the morning. Sometimes I can’t decide which I prefer more.”

  He turned to look at her. She had plaited her hair into one long pigtail that lay along the rise of her shoulder and her face was freshly washed. He realized that yesterday she must have been wearing some kind of cosmetics, though he had not noticed it. Now her face looked fresh and honest. She smiled at him, an easy trusting smile, and he wondered how a girl with her background could possibly trust any man. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the deeper shades of the surrounding woodland, a deep green and soft brown.

  “Are you game to try the dandelion coffee? It’s not real coffee, but I think you’ll like it.”

  He looked at her for another moment and followed her into the cabin. She sat down as she poured the dark fluid into the stoneware mug and he inhaled the aroma.

  Alice poured herself a cup and sat across from him watching him expectantly.

  He lifted the mug to his lips and tasted the hot drink cautiously. He puckered his mouth and nodded in appreciation. “You’re right, it’s not coffee, but it’s pretty damned close and really good!”

  Alice smiled openly. “I’m glad.”

  “This is remarkable. How did you figure out how to make this from a weed?”

  “On one of the ranches I spent many hours with the cook. She hated me and would not speak to me, although she spoke almost no English so I’m not sure it would have made a difference. She did tolerate me following her around most of the day though. She was the only one there during the day while the men were out. I learned a lot just watching her. One year the coffee was bad and she went out and we gathered dandelions together. The men really liked the drink. I remember I smiled at her when they were all excited about it. It was the only time she smiled back. I left there not long after that.”

  “I suppose there are good things to come out of bad,” he remarked quietly.

  “She was alright. She just didn’t like me because I was there for the ranchers. It’s that way a lot of places. In town sometimes, too. Mama said that it was because many people thought there were two kinds of women. There were women who pretended they hated being with a man. Even women who had many children pretended that. Then there were women like us who weren’t afraid of sex. I guess the ones that are afraid of sex are afraid of anyone who isn’t. That’s what I always thought. Sex isn’t bad though, it’s natural. If it was so terrible no one would have babies. Sometimes it can be nice. It’s hate that makes anything, even sex, bad.”

  Joseph watched her sipping her drink across the rough hewn table. Despite her licentious upbringing and strange ideas she was well-mannered, holding her cup in a ladylike manner as if she’d spent many hours in a charm school and not the parlor of a brothel.

  “Did you learn to make this at that first rancher’s place?” Joseph found himself loathing the rancher, although he did not know him at all.

  “No, that was another place. I was older then, about sixteen. There were several ranchers there, six of them. I was there for them. That was for less than a year before Mama said they fell behind on their payments and she brought me back to the house.”

  He looked down into his coffee and saw his own face reflected there. The image of himself that looked back in the smooth surface looked very weather-beaten and overgrown with an unkempt tangle of a beard. He had no mirror in the cabin and, after not seeing himself for over a year, he barely recognized his own face. It occurred to him that Alice viewed him with complete trust while he thought he looked like a wild-man.

  “How do you know I won’t hurt you?” he looked up and asked frankly.

  “Because there is no hate in your eyes. When you smile there are little crinkles around your eyes that say you’re kind and your heart is good. I’ll bet you never hit anyone in anger or even kicked a dog… or a woman…ever.”

  “No, that’s true
.” He emptied his mug.

  “I’ll cook whatever you like,” she offered. “I didn’t want to just go into your food without your permission. I have to ask about your strange brew there in that jar. Are you going to make some kind of beer?”

  “It’s a starter for bread. I’ll show you later on. Jack comes around for the eggs most days, but there’s plenty. We can eat those. There’s some bacon too.” He rose from the bench and showed her where the supplies were and refilled his cup. “Would you like more?” He held up the tall coffeepot.

  Alice looked up at him in surprise. No man had ever offered her anything in such a way, like she was a guest or an equal. “I would love another,” she replied quietly. “Thank you.”

  Joseph smiled as he filled her cup. He could not help but notice the trusting look in her eyes.

  Chapter Eight

  Chicken-leg Jack reached the clearing to Amish Joe’s cabin and sat down on the big boulder in the yard. It was unusual not to find Joe shoveling gravel into the sluice box almost anytime the sun was out, even far into the summer night. Jack considered that maybe Joe had been up late and was still sleeping and headed over to the coop to gather the eggs. When he found the nesting box empty he walked to the cabin and raised his fist to knock on the door. If Joe wasn’t home he knew he was welcome to just go in and get what he wanted but he always knocked first. Jack stopped suddenly. He sniffed the air curiously, thinking he might smell something musky on the breeze. He sniffed again.

  “Joe!” he called out, rapping on the door. “You got coffee in there?”

  He heard Joe’s low chuckle and opened the door. When he saw Alice sitting at the table he froze.

  “Come on in, Jack,” Joseph beckoned. “It’s not coffee, but Alice here has made something that is fooling the hell out of my taste buds this morning.”

  “Good morning,” Alice smiled and pulled a mug from the shelf, filling it with the dark liquid.

 

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