Grooms with Honor Series, Books 4-6

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Grooms with Honor Series, Books 4-6 Page 24

by Linda K. Hubalek


  “A ‘Mr. Hardesty’ and his business may have been checked out, but it was someone else Mr. Hardesty paid to represent him. I’m guessing he has several ads in newspapers under different names. One or two women show up each month thinking they will be Mrs. Whoever.”

  “That can’t be legal!” Lily whispered, then grunted when Fannie yanked on the corset strings. “Why don’t the police do something about his scams?!”

  “Cops get paid ‘on the side’ for taking care of Mr. Hardesty’s business. Suck in your stomach again for one last pull of the strings.”

  Lily looked down at her chest. Oh. My. Word…besides not being able to breathe, I’m exposing my breasts to the world!

  “Sit down on the chair so I can fix your face. You need kohl around your eyes and rouge on your cheeks and lips.

  “Listen closely because I’ll only say this once, and we’ll never talk about it again. If you want to survive, I suggest you do what Mr. Hardesty says.”

  “I’ll take my pay for tonight and leave. Mr. Hardesty tricked me so I won’t stay here. I’ll find a church and ask for help.”

  “You aren’t paid to sing, Lily. And you’ll only get a small cut of the fee the men pay Mr. Hardesty for your female services upstairs after you’ve been here a month or two to prove your loyalty to the Emporium.”

  “I will NOT be a prostitute!”

  Fannie paused before saying, “The last ‘mail-order bride’ disappeared the same night she refused to take a man upstairs. Two days later her beaten body was found floating in Bubbly Creek. That nearby stream is the ‘dump’ for the slaughterhouses in the Yards. I hope she was dead before being thrown into the stinking goo of dead animal parts.” Fannie gave a little shudder as she spoke about the animal offal.

  “I…I can’t do this! What should I do?”

  “Get through your songs, then look around and find the safest man you see. Go sit on his lap, put your arms around his neck, talk to him—and look like you’re enjoying yourself—or you’ll be the next ‘bride’ floating in the creek.”

  Fannie went to the door and opened it. Lily wasn’t surprised to see Mrs. Mason standing outside.

  Did she hear us talking?

  Fannie didn’t say another word before she slipped past Mrs. Mason and walked down the hall to her own room.

  Mrs. Mason practically dragged her out of her room and handed her over to Mr. Hardesty at the top of the main room stairway. Lily wished she could have covered her chest, but her white shawl had conveniently disappeared from her room when she was downstairs practicing with Mr. Boswell this morning.

  “Gentlemen! May I, please have your attention?” Mr. Hardesty yelled while holding Lily’s elbow firmly in his right hand. “I’d like to introduce you to our newest singer, Miss Lily Lind—the niece of the famous singer, Jenny Lind—known throughout the world as the Swedish Nightingale!”

  Lily gasped and looked at Mr. Hardesty after his introduction and outright lie. “Smile and wave at your audience, Miss Lind,” he whispered in her ear as he practically dragged her down the steps and through the tables toward the stage. Men were clapping, stomping their feet, whistling and touching her as Mr. Hardesty pushed her up on the stage.

  “I suggest you do a decent job singing your songs,” he whispered again while painfully squeezing her elbow before releasing it.

  Lily stared at the audience but couldn’t see the noisy crowd in the smoky room because her vision was starting to narrow. The room was warm, smelling of dirty men, whiskey, and the strong odor of the nearby meat plants. Am I going to pass out, fling my meager supper on the stage floor, or both?

  Mr. Boswell hit three loud cords, trying to get her attention. Had he already started playing the first song, and what is it? He started in again, waited for a few measures, and then started back, only louder this time. The third time Lily shut her eyes and sang the first phrase of the song. She continued, singing a little louder when the noise from the crowd dropped to only a few raunchy yells.

  She got through the first song and opened her stinging eyes, embarrassed at the men’s hoots and hollers. After a few long minutes of standing there, coughing because of the cigar smoke and not knowing what to do next, Mr. Boswell started playing the introduction to the next song.

  Lily scanned the tables, then looked back to a certain one, because the man seated at it wasn’t making any noise, just staring at her instead. He’s the tall cowboy I saw at the train depot! He’d taken his cowboy hat off, but it rested on one knee which stuck sideways out from under the table. He gave her a solemn nod of acknowledgment, giving her a moment of sanity.

  Realizing Mr. Boswell was waiting for her to start singing, Lily sang the next song while looking at the man quietly watching her. It went better than the first song, only because she had a focal point this time.

  Lily clamped her fists tightly at her sides as she listened to another round of humiliating calls. Now she had to sing the song she still stuttered through. Lily didn’t want to sing it, especially to the man watching her. She was supposed to do arm actions and sway her body while singing the embarrassing words, too.

  When Mr. Boswell started playing this introduction, the men roared, apparently knowing the song she was about to sing. Lily gritted her teeth and tried to stare at the ceiling through the smoky haze. She sang the song quickly, so Mr. Boswell had to play faster to keep up with her. She stood defiantly at the end of the song, staring at Mr. Hardesty who leaned against the bar at the opposite end of the room. He had a smirk on his face, guessing Lily had finally realized what her role was at the Emporium—and it wasn’t to be his loving bride.

  Lily scanned the room, and quickly decided the cowboy from the train station was the best man to approach for her next ‘act’ of the evening. She lifted her skirt enough to carefully walk down the four steps off the stage. Men stood on both sides of the steps trying to grab her, but Lily angrily slapped them away. She was fuming at Mr. Hardesty’s betrayal and her own stupidity. Dear God in Heaven, please help me find a way out of this mess!

  The man watched her weaving through the tables, and his eyes widened when she stood before him. Another cowboy sitting next to him slapped him on the back, apparently congratulating him for his ‘luck’ at being chosen for her attention.

  Lily took a deep breath, took the hat off the cowboy’s knee and placed it on the table in front of him. She had a metallic taste in her mouth, then realized she was biting her lower lip so hard she was drawing blood. She licked her lips and swallowed a few times to clear her mouth. She glanced sideways and found Mr. Hardesty watching her closely.

  “May I sit on your lap, sir?” He acted like he didn’t hear her at first but then uncrossed his legs, so she could sit on his thighs. Lily gingerly sat down, bracing for his hand to pinch her rear, but he gently placed his large palm on her waist to steady her instead. Next, she wrapped her arms around his neck, which brought her face close to his.

  He intensely searched her face as she studied his handsome features. His strong jawline and chin were covered with a day’s worth of stubble. He had bushy eyebrows, slightly darker than his wavy auburn hair. His nose was large, but not like a beak to make his face look out of proportion. And he looked like a man she could trust.

  He leaned close to her ear, but she wasn’t afraid of him doing something inappropriate. “I’m Seth Reagan, here in Chicago for the livestock show. I saw you at the depot when we both arrived and overheard the conversation you had with the person you met there. Are you in trouble, miss?”

  Lily wanted to lean her forehead against Mr. Reagan’s shoulder and cry. “Yes, I traveled here thinking I was meeting my fiancé, but apparently it was a one-way ticket to work in this saloon instead.”

  “Do you want help getting out of here?”

  “Desperately, but I’ve been warned I won’t be leaving by free choice, or alive,” Lily shuddered, and he squeezed her waist in sympathy.

  “I’m staying at the Hough House. The hotel is five blocks
straight east of here. It’s a five-story building with an American flag waving from its dome top. I’m in room…” Mr. Reagan stopped talking when a hand clamped onto his shoulder.

  “Either you take this gentleman upstairs to your room, Miss Lind, or you move on to someone else.” Lily’s mouth gaped open at Hardesty’s meaning, and at his sudden change in personality. Gone was the charming gentlemen she first met. Now he was threatening her in a menacing tone.

  “What’s the cost of enjoying this beautiful woman?” Mr. Reagan’s eyes didn’t leave Lily’s as he asked Hardesty the price of going upstairs. Lily stopped breathing and looked back and forth between the two men.

  “Because this is Miss Lind’s debut night so to speak, two dollars for an hour’s honor,” Mr. Hardesty declared, challenging Mr. Reagan, not expecting him to follow through with the high price.

  “It would be my pleasure, sir,” he answered while nodding to Lily. “If this lovely lady stands up so I can get my money out of my vest pocket, I’ll pay the fee, and the two of us can proceed upstairs.”

  Mr. Reagan squeezed her waist again and gently pushed her off his lap. He reached a finger into his vest pocket, pulled out two silver dollar coins, and held them out until Hardesty held his hand out, palm up.

  Mr. Reagan’s smile wasn’t showing in his eyes as he dropped the coins onto Hardesty’s palm with one hand while putting his other on Lily’s lower back and gently pushing her forward to start walking. When they reached the bottom of the stairway, Mr. Reagan offered his bent arm, as any proper gentleman would do. After looking back at Mr. Hardesty, Lily slid her hand into the other man’s arm.

  Am I safe, or am I about to become a soiled dove?

  Chapter 3

  “You’re safe with me, Miss Lind. I only offered to pay for your services to get you alone to talk about your predicament—nothing else,” Seth said, and quickly wrapped his arm around Miss Lind when she sagged with relief.

  “Which is your room, Miss Lind, so we can get away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers?”

  “Last one at the end of the hall,” the woman whispered to him.

  “Is there a back staircase we can leave from after we get your things?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Are you finding your way to Miss Lind’s room, sir?”

  Seth took a moment to compose his face before turning back to the saloon owner who stood a few doors down from them.

  “Yes, we are about to enjoy our privacy—if you don’t mind,” Seth said in a warning tone. “I paid my money for this privilege, so let me…savor Miss Lind. Seth drew out the words to put Hardesty in his place. He turned the knob on the door Miss Lind pointed to and ushered her inside.

  “Is there an inside lock to keep that man out of your room?” he whispered to the frightened woman hovering against the far wall of the room—which wasn’t that far away, being a small space. She shook her head, then murmured. “I’ve been shoving the chair under the knob at night, that’s all I can do. But someone has been locking me in the room when I’m not downstairs with someone watching me anyway.”

  He crossed the room to look out the window but couldn’t see anything but shadows. He tried opening the window, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “There’s always someone standing outside the back door at night, often, it’s a policeman,” she softly spoke to tell him about the staircase he had asked about. When Seth stared at her in disbelief, Lily continued. “The woman who helped me dress tonight told me the police are paid to do certain ‘jobs’ for Mr. Hardesty.” Then she told him what else Fannie has said about other women who had been drawn here under false pretenses.

  “Miss Lind, I promise to help you get out of this dire situation,” Seth put his hand over his heart, trying to prove his honesty to her.

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “My father is a minister. If you know your Bible and can start a verse, I could probably say the rest of it. And if I ever hurt a woman, I’m sure I could feel my ma thump my head all the way from Kansas,” Seth earnestly replied, thinking what his parents would say about him being in a soiled dove’s room. But they’d be proud he was here to help another human being.

  “You’re from Kansas? Do you know any Swedish people?” Miss Lind relaxed a tad with her questions.

  “Yes. We have a big population of Swedes about fifty miles southwest of us. And we have a Swedish family in our community of friends.”

  Miss Lind narrowed her eyes and asked, “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “Let’s see…I prefer hot mustard on lutfisk instead of cream sauce—if I have to eat the smelly fish,” he grinned as she snickered.

  “It only smells when you soak the fish to prepare it.”

  “Yep, Taylor’s Mercantile gets their supply of the ‘dried fish boards’ in early October because you have to soak the stuff for six weeks in lye first before it’s soft enough to eat.”

  “What else?”

  “I’m okay eating bruna bönor—or brown beans—although I didn’t expect them to be sweetened with molasses instead of seasoned with chili powder the first time I ate them.”

  “Now you’re making me hungry for Swedish food,” she held her middle, and he guessed she’d been just plain hungry since she left Boston by her thin stature.

  “I know some simple words, moder, fader, for mother and father. The Hamner family makes a nice smörgåsbord of food, so I always accept their invitation for a meal.

  “And…I use a Swedish word dumskalle when I get frustrated dealing with an ornery horse. I don’t consider it really cussing when I’m using the Swedish word, which means a dimwitted, blockheaded jackass.”

  Seth liked how Miss Lind’s blue eyes brightened when he talked about the little Swedish he knew. Would this be enough to put her mind at ease?

  “Tack så mycket, Mr. Reagan. Thank you. I feel I can fully trust you now,” Miss Lind quietly stated.

  “Varsågod, you’re welcome. I promise I will help you any way I can.”

  “Now if we can get out of here. I only have my reticule, a small bag, and my cloak…” Lily stopped mid-sentence as she looked around the room, and then pulled out the three drawers in the small dresser beside the window. “Now they’ve taken my cloak, hat, and gloves! Earlier my shawl disappeared so I couldn’t cover up my shoulders and chest tonight,” Lily closed her eyes, looking downright disgusted. “And my shirtwaist and skirt were taken the first day to be cleaned and haven’t made their way back to my room either. This blue dress is the only thing I have to wear,” Miss Lind cringed, apparently embarrassed at being seen in it.

  “What about your reticule and bag?” Seth asked, wondering if they were missing, too.

  Miss Lind opened a dresser drawer. “They are here. All I have in my carpet bag is my English translation book, my Swedish Bible, and an extra pair of underthings and socks. And I’m embarrassed to say only two dollars left in my reticule, but now I wouldn’t count on it being in there,” she whispered.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Lind.” Seth touched her shoulder in sympathy.

  They both jumped when there was a sharp rap on the door. “Your time is about up!” Hardesty growled. Seth wondered if he could overpower the man and sneak Miss Lind out the back way, but guessed Hardesty had a weapon on him.

  Why isn’t my loaded revolver in my gun belt around my hips like I always wear in Kansas? I feel so inadequate and unprepared!

  Seth pulled his wallet out of his pocket, opened it up and took a twenty-dollar bill out of it. “Here, hide this on your person now before he pushes his way in. If I can’t get you past him now, I’ll wait outside near the end of the alley for three hours in case you can get out yourself.”

  Miss Lind turned her back to him, frantically pulling her skirt up to get to the bottom of her tight corset, where Seth assumed she was trying to hide the money. Seth was embarrassed to see her go through her clothing, but she had to hide the cash under as many layers as she could.

&
nbsp; Hardesty rapped louder on the door.

  “Hey!” Seth yelled. “Hold your horses! I haven’t finished using up my two dollars yet!”

  Seth leaned down to stare into Lily’s eyes and whisper, “Remember I’m in the Hough House, room 217. If you can’t get there, I’ll be in the stockyards the next two mornings looking at the horses in the sale pens. If we can’t meet before I leave in four days, keep trying to escape this place! Use the money to get on the train and head for Clear Creek, Kansas. Remember Clear Creek. It’s opposite of the dirty stinking creek near here. Clear Creek. Go to my parents at the parsonage, or to Marshall Adam Wilerson. Remember Adam is the first man with Eve. He’s the first man you can trust in town.”

  “Okay, I promise I’ll get out of this mess and to you as soon as I can. Thank you so much for trying to help me!” Lily wrapped her arms around his waist, and Seth wished he could hold her forever. Why had that thought pop into his head?

  “Now, how about a kiss on my cheek to smear a little of your paint on me? Got to make it look like we did something in here besides talk,” Seth said trying to give her a little hope.

  Miss Lind stood on tiptoe, grabbed his face between her hands and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

  The key turned in the lock and Seth jumped to the door and pulled the chair out of the way. He motioned for Miss Lind to get behind him as he prepared to mow Hardesty down when the man opened the door.

  But when the door opened, two burly men stood three feet away from the door—with Hardesty behind them. Apparently, the man was used to trouble in his saloon.

  “Your escort is ready to see you outside, Mr.…?” Hardesty asked with calculating eyes.

  “George Milner,” Seth said the first made-up name which came to him as he stuck his hand toward Hardesty as if he wanted to shake hands. Hardesty ignored his gesture.

  “See he gets outside now, Jones,” Hardesty pretended to say politely. “I need to have a little talk with my newest singer for a moment.” Now his lip curled into a snarl as he watched Seth’s face, but Seth kept all emotion clear of his features.

 

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