Elise

by Bobbi Smith

  Gabe was nice enough, she supposed, but he was no Sheriff Jackson. And that was why, even after all her grandmothers proddings, she remained unattached. No man she'd ever met had measured up to her expectations, and sadly, Elise was beginning to think that no man ever would.

  At the realization, a calm came over her and sleep claimed her. It was a restless sleep, though, as memories of Gabe's kiss drifted through her dreams.

  The following days passed quickly. Trace purchased a roan stallion and made his move into Ben's old house without a problem. Things went smoothly at the Star. The time he'd spent studying Ben's work had helped him understand what was expected of him, and with Andy's and Elise's expertise, he was quickly learning what it took to get a newspaper on the street. He had come to respect all the hard work that went into producing a weekly like the Star. This was not an easy job, and more often than not, it was a thankless one.

  Ever aware of Elise's nearness, Trace made it a point never to be alone with her at the office. He had no reason to socialize with her after hours, so there was no danger of a repeat of the embrace they'd shared at Ben's house, and he was glad. He could not afford the distraction.

  Unbeknownst to anyone else, Trace began to practice his shooting daily. He was glad to see that there was some improvement in his ability to draw, but he was beginning to realize that he would never again have the speed that he'd had before the ambush. Still, he knew he could train himself to be reasonably proficient, and that would have to be good enough. There were moments during his practices when, in frustration, he considered going after Harris with a sawed-off shotgun, but he held to his original plan. He was sure that it wouldn't be that much longer until he was ready.

  Trace knew there was always the possibility that someone would discover what he was doing. If they did, he was simply going to tell them that since he'd heard working at a newspaper could be dangerous, he wanted to be prepared. He made sure to keep the eyeglasses with him. That way, if someone did show up unexpectedly, he could quickly assume his Gabe identity. Not that he wanted to. Lord knew, he was tired of playing that role, but there was nothing else he could do-for now. He would remain Gabe for only as long as it was necessary.

  Sitting at his desk, Trace glanced into the outer office to see Andy hard at work, but there was still no sign of Elise. She had been due back nearly an hour before, and he wondered what had detained her. It was the day of their editorial meeting, when they were to pick their lead story for the next issue. Things had been quiet around town, so they were trying to come up with an interesting idea.

  "Andy? Any sign of Elise yet?"

  "No. I don't even see her out on the street anywhere," he called back after checking.

  "All right. Just tell her to come see me as soon as she shows up."

  Across town, Elise had attended a meeting of the Ladies' Solidarity. She'd hoped she would find something interesting to report on their activities, but other than the usual good deeds the women were involved in-helping to beautify the town and feed the poor-there had been nothing overly exciting going on. When the meeting ended, she'd started back to the office, detouring only for a short trip to a local mercantile.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Perry," she greeted the shopkeeper as she entered the store.

  "Why, how are you, Miss Elise? And how is that grandmother of yours? I haven't seen either one of you in a few weeks," Wayne Perry, the owner, said.

  "We're just fine. We've been keeping busy."

  "I'll say you have. Your story about the preacher was fascinating, and now with having that new boss of yours at the Star, you've got a lot going on. What can I help you with today?"

  "I need a few yards of material for a dress my grandmother's planning to make." She began to explain what she needed, but just then the bell jingled, signaling that someone else had entered the store, and she never got to finish.

  "Excuse me one minute, Miss Elise," Wayne interrupted her as he looked up to see who'd come in. His expression grew strained, and he hurried away. "I'll be right back to wait on you."

  Elise wondered who could have caused such a reaction in him. She glanced toward the front of the store to see a blond-haired young woman standing just inside the doorway. She was wearing a dress more suitable for a night in a saloon than an afternoon of shopping. It was dark blue satin, trimmed in black lace and cut quite low in the bodice. Her cheeks were heavily rouged and her lips were painted red. For all that she appeared to be a grown woman, Elise had the feeling that she was really quite young.

  "Can I help you?" Wayne demanded when he reached her. His tone was almost belligerent as he glared at her.

  "I needed to get some ribbon for-"

  "I am completely sold out of ribbon," he declared coldly, standing to block her way into the store.

  "But Fernada down at the High Time said this was the best shop in town," the girl protested.

  Elise hadn't meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she couldn't help herselfespecially after hearing the shopkeeper's undisguised hostility toward the girl. She maneuvered herself between two counters a little closer to them so she could better hear what was being said.

  "This is the best shop in town, but I'm out of ribbon today."

  "But I can see some on the counter there," she argued, pointing past him to where the dry goods were stored.

  "Well, none of that merchandise is for the likes of you, so you may as well go on and get out of my store. I only want decent folk to shop here."

  "But I got money!" she told him defensively.

  "I don't want your money. I know how you earned it!" he said with scathing condemnation. "And I don't want you in my shop! Now get out or I'll be forced to call the sheriff and have him take you out of here!"

  Elise could see the young woman's expression, which had turned haunted and pained at his words.

  "But-" She reached in her pocket to show him the cash she had, but he wouldn't listen.

  "Go, and don't ever come back. I don't need or want your business."

  Elise watched as the young woman turned away from the shopkeeper and hurried dejectedly from the store. Mr. Perry followed her outside.

  Elise couldn't believe what had happened. She couldn't believe that Mr. Perry had refused to wait on the woman. She was still stunned a few moments later when he returned to her side, his manner conciliatory.

  "I'm sorry about that, Miss Elise. Some people just don't know their place in the world."

  "All she wanted to do was buy something from you," she said simply.

  "She's a whore! She works down at the High Time Saloon! Good folks don't associate with her kind."

  "But you lost a sale." She felt sorry for the girl and thought that by appealing to the shopkeeper's business interests she might convince him to change his way of thinking.

  "Like I told her, I didn't want her money. Women like her shouldn't be allowed to mix with good, God-fearing folks." He tried to maintain his dignity as he answered her, but he was still angry over the other woman's intrusion. "Now, what can I get for you?"

  Elise was still a bit stunned by what had transpired, and all she could think of was the Biblical admonishment Judge not, lest ye be judged! The look of hurt and despair she'd seen on the other woman's face had said it all, and Elise knew what she had to do. She quickly finished her transaction, buying the material her grandmother needed and a sizable amount of ribbon that her grandmother didn't need.

  "Thank you for all your help, Mr. Perry."

  "You're more than welcome, Miss Elise. You come on back now. It's always a pleasure to see you."

  "I will," she said, a plan already forming in her head. She wondered if he really meant those words.

  Elise hurried from the shop. She looked both ways on the street, but could see no sign of the young woman who'd just left the mercantile. She knew where the High Time Saloon was located, so she headed in that direction. She didn't even think about the fact that she was late for the editorial meeting with Gabe. The only thi
ng that troubled her was that she was going where no good woman was ever supposed to go. She was going into a saloon to talk to the "working girls" there.

  Elise worried for a moment that her reputation might somehow suffer from this adven ture of hers, but then dismissed the thought. She was a journalist who was working on a story. It was important that she get all the information she needed while she could. She considered, too, that she might be putting herself in danger of some sort, but she pushed that worrisome possibility aside, too. This was no time to worry about her own safety when she'd just seen how the young woman had been treated by Mr. Perry. It was broad daylight. She was going to be fine-and she was going after the lead article for the next issue of the Star. There was no time for cowardice when one was on the trail of a good story.

  Fernada stood at the bar in the High Time Saloon, relaxing and talking with Dan, the bartender. It was still early in the day, and it was a weekday at that, so business was slow. She'd even given several of her girls the afternoon off to get some of their personal chores done. She looked up when she heard someone come in and was surprised to see that Suzie had come back so soon.

  "What are you doing here? I thought you were going shopping for a while," she asked good-naturedly. Her mood changed, though, when she saw Suzie's stricken look. "What's wrong, honey? What happened?"

  "Nothing," Suzie mumbled, heading for the stairs so she could go to her room.

  "Don't tell me nothing, Suzie. I wasn't born yesterday." Fernada started toward her, instantly concerned about what might have happened to her. Suzie was one of her youngest girls. She was sweet and good-natured, and as honest a working girl as Fernada had ever met. She felt almost motherly toward her.

  Suzie glanced at Dan, feeling a bit embarrassed at her dilemma. Even so, she knew there was no way to avoid relating what had just happened at the store. "He refused to wait on me."

  "Who did?"

  "That Mr. Perry at the mercantile-and I even had cash money to pay him with! It wasn't like I was asking him for credit or anything!" The last was choked from her as her tears fell freely.

  Fernada put a supportive arm around her slender shoulders and guided her toward the steps. She wanted to talk with her alone. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last time, that some upstanding citizen of town hurt one of her girls. She hated it, but she knew she couldn't stop it. She could only help Suzie learn how to cope with the rejection of the "good folks."

  They had just started up the stairs when Fernada heard someone else come into the saloon. She didn't bother to look back, thinking it was just a cowboy wanting a drink and a game of cards.

  "Miss?"

  The sound of woman's voice stopped Fernada. She and Suzie both looked back. They were surprised to see a very pretty, demurely dressed, dark-haired young woman standing right there in the middle of the High Time Saloon, looking up at them.

  "I'm Elise Martin," she began, addressing herself to the young woman who'd just fled Mr. Perry's store. "I was wondering if I could talk with you for a moment?"

  "Why? What do you want with my Suzie?" Fernada asked, defensively.

  "I just wanted to ask her a few questions about what happened at the store."

  "And why would you be interested?"

  "I'm a reporter for the Star."

  "You are?" Fernada was taken aback by this news.

  "Why do you want to talk with me?" Suzie couldn't imagine what she wanted.

  "I was in the mercantile when you came in to shop just a little while ago. I saw how Mr. Perry treated you. Here-" Elise approached them and held out the small bag containing the ribbon. "I bought this for you."

  "What is it?"

  "Look and see."

  The younger woman took the offered gift, and her expression went from wary to one of pure delight as she opened it to see the ribbon she'd wanted. "You got the ribbon!" She lifted her tear-filled gaze to look at her. "Thank you. I'll be glad to pay you for it." She started to dig in her pocket for the money.

  "No," Elise said, holding up her hand to stop her. "The ribbon is a gift. No one should have to endure what you just suffered in that store."

  "Thank you." Her words were humble and almost a whisper. For an instant there, when she'd refused her money, she'd thought the reporter didn't want the cash for the same reason the shopkeeper hadn't. Acts of kindness had been so rare in her short lifetime that she wasn't quite sure how to react.

  "I'm glad I could do it for you. I was wondering-would you have time to talk with me for a little while? The scene in the store troubled me. I can't believe how cruel some people can be."

  Femada couldn't stop herself from giving a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "You ain't seen nothing if you think that was bad."

  "I guess I haven't, and that's why I'd like to talk with you-both of you, if you could spare the time?"

  Femada and Suzie exchanged glances, and then Suzie, clutching her bag of ribbon, nodded.

  "All right. I'll talk with you."

  "Why don't we go upstairs where it'll be more private, just in case any customers come in?" Femada suggested.

  Elise nodded. "Thank you. I'd like that."

  The older woman led the way to a room at the far end of the hall, and Elise followed. Elise had never been in a saloon before, let alone the private area where the girls made their livings.

  This particular room was large and comfortably furnished. Fernada sat on the side of the bed with Suzie and left Elise the one and only chair to use.

  "I'm Femada, by the way, and this is Suzie."

  "I appreciate your taking this time for me," Elise told them. "After what I saw at the shop today, I had an idea for a lead story for the Star, but I need your help."

  "Our help?" Suzie repeated, surprised.

  "Yes. I was offended by the way you were treated, and I wanted to write an article about what it's like to be you. Mr. Perry was very cruel." She was stating a fact. "I don't think the public has any idea of what it's like to be a working girl."

  "I don't think they want to know," Fernada countered. She'd been a working girl for years now, and she had been putting up with this kind of treatment for just as long. "It's amazing how folks can talk out of both sides of their mouths."

  "What do you mean?" Elise asked.

  "Well, they can talk about how sinful we are, how terrible we are, but then they come to the High Time and have a good time enjoying us and what we do here."

  "I see. A lot of folks are hypocrites."

  "They're what?" Suzie asked, confused by the big word.

  "They say one thing and do another," Fernada explained for her.

  "They also don't know where you've come from or how you came to be doing this for a living. I'd like to interview you and the rest of the young women who work here," Elise told them. "I'd like to know what your life is like working at the High Time Saloon."

  Suzie gave a snort of derision. "You can find out what we do, but you'll never know what it's really like."

  "Suzie, don't be so quick to judge," the older woman cautioned, "or you'll be sounding just like that shopkeeper." She eyed Elise, studying her for a moment, trying to judge the truth of her character. "Are you the one who trapped that outlaw preacher?"

  "Yes, that was me."

  "I see." Femada nodded and fell silent for another moment, trying to decide how to han dle this. Her decision wasn't made, though, until her gaze fell on Suzie, and she saw the bag of ribbon she was still holding. Turning back to the reporter, she asked, "Are you serious about doing this?"

  "Ver" Y•

  "Then I have an idea for you." And Fernada began to explain.

  It was over an hour later when Elise rushed into the Star's office. She was breathless with excitement.

  "Andy! Is Gabe here?"

  Andy looked up from his work and motioned back toward the editor's office. "Of course, he's here. He's been waiting for you for-say, two hours, but right now-" He didn't get to finish.

  Elise hurried straight
past his desk and in to speak with Gabe. She knew she should have felt guilty, but the story she'd come up with was too important. She was excited about selling him on the idea. If he let her do it the way she wanted, it was going to be quite an intriguing expose.

  "I need to talk with you!" she declared, striding straight into the room without waiting for an invitation.

  Elise stopped abruptly at the doorway, for there, sitting across the desk from Gabe, was Julie.

  "Oh. I didn't know you had a visitor," she said haltingly, shocked at seeing the other woman there.

  "Hello, Elise. It's good to see you again," Julie lied. She got to her feet. "I guess I'd better go now. It looks like you have some business to conduct, and I don't want to get in your way."

  "It was lovely to see you again, Julie," Gabe said, rising from the desk to walk her out of the office.

  "I'll see you tomorrow night then? My mother will be delighted that you'll be joining us for dinner."

  "It will be my pleasure. Did you say around seven?"

  "That will be perfect. See you then." Her voice was a thick purr as she quit the building.

  Trace turned away and hurried back into his office, where Elise was awaiting him.

  "Sit down, sit down. Now, what happened that's got you so excited?" Trace asked as he sat down behind his desk. He wondered where she'd been and what was so important that she would be this worked up. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were flushed. "Did the Ladies' Solidarity do something scandalous?"

  "Hardly. They're angels-all of them. The meeting went very well. It was what happened afterward, when I was on my way back here, that got me sidetracked."

  "And just what was that? And this had better be good, because I expected you back quite some time ago." He made a point of looking at his watch.

  "I hardly think you were waiting breathlessly for my return," she countered. "It seems you had plenty to distract you while I was away."