Chapter Fifteen

 

THE TOWN, IF one could call it that, of Oro Fino Creek, seemed scattered about as if the buildings sprang up sporadically wherever the builder deemed a decent spot.

As she rode past the saloon, she noticed thick boards, like horizontal shutters propped up by poles above all the windows. Each one had a three-inch hole cut into the center. She wondered the purpose until she arrived in front of the post office and saw two arrows embedded in one of them. It suddenly became clear. The shutters were let down for protection in case of an Indian ambush. The holes must be where the residents poked their rifle barrels out and shot at their attackers.

She tied Duster at the hitching post and took the mochila into the post office. Unlike the one in Eagle Rock, the interior was nearly bare except for a desk and a few wooden boxes stacked next to it.

“Ah, our first mail delivery. How exciting.” A thin gray-haired man with crooked legs stood up painfully and met Mayme halfway. “You must be Nathan. I received a telegraph enquiring whether you’d made it or not.”

“Yes, sir. I rode as fast as I could, having never been on this route before.” Mayme surrendered the bag to him. “I reckon I’ll be faster next time.”

“Well, you did just fine. The people here will be so relieved to know we have a dependable carrier.”

Mayme smiled. “Is there anything you’d like for me to take back to Eagle Rock?”

“I can’t answer that just yet. What I would suggest is that you put yourself up in the saloon for a day or two and rest your horse. I’ll put the word out that you’re in town. Check back with me day after tomorrow and I’ll see what I have for you.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Mayme took a few steps toward the door and stopped short. “Do the Indians attack often? I noticed some arrows in the shutters outside.”

The man took on a grim look. “Sadly, it seems like it’s a monthly occurrence. Damned savages. Pardon my language. Seems like all they want to do is run through and see if they can take some scalps.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“They’ve killed some mighty fine people.”

Mayme walked out, feeling a mixture of hate and horror for the red men who took lives without reason. Savages indeed.

She led Duster to the livery and arranged for a stall. The owner refused any payment upon discovering she was the post rider.

Duster nickered to her as she turned to leave the barn with her saddlebags hanging over her shoulder.

“I know, girl. You’ll be fine here. I’ll check on you after I get myself a room and have something to eat.” Mayme felt a bit guilty for leaving Duster. The horse had been a loyal companion and faithful guardian. But, as the postman said, both she and Duster needed rest and feed.

A red façade with cursive writing heralded her arrival at Big Nosed Kitty’s saloon. A pair of “batwing” doors at the entrance hung on long hinges and extended from chest to knee level.

Mayme had never been in a saloon before. In fact, she had always crossed the street in Eagle Rock to avoid the smells of cigars and stale alcohol. In this case, she had no choice but to go inside.

The interior was a crude affair with minimal furniture and few decorations. A gray wolf hide hung behind the bar above the row of whiskey bottles. Four vacant tables and chairs stood on either side of the doorway. Seven stools were tucked under the overhang of the bar. A single wood-burning stove sat at the base of the stairs. No doubt so the warmth could be shared in the rooms above.

A very large, bespectacled man stood behind the bar, wiping freshly washed glasses. He had full sideburns and eyes that spoke of seeing many things. He perused Mayme with open curiosity as she approached.

“You’re new in these parts.” He put the glass he’d dried on the counter. “What can I get you?” He lifted a whiskey bottled and motioned toward it.

Mayme shook her head quickly. “The postmaster told me to come here and enquire about a room.” She noticed a sign advertising a free meal with the purchase of a drink. She pointed with her chin. “Does that apply to any meal?”

“Yep. Sure does. What’s your pleasure?”

“I think I’d like to get a room first,” she said wearily. “I’ll come down when I get settled.”

“Righto. How long you staying? We’ve got weekly rates, or if you think you’ll be here longer, there’s a boarding place down the road a spell. Ain’t fancy, but it’d be a roof over your head.”

“Two nights here will be fine. Thanks.”

“The name’s Miles in case you need anything.”

Mayme started toward the stairs. “No, there’s nothing I need at the moment.”

The room Mayme chose on the second floor closely resembled the one she’d occupied at Mrs. Randall’s. A single chest of drawers stood against the wall with a round mirror nailed above it. A washbasin, a full pitcher of water, and lamp were the only items on the roughly hewn surface.

A single casement window allowed light in as she parted the dingy curtains. A few horse and riders rode past the buildings, but other than that, all was quiet. She wondered if the town’s inhabitants were still out working in the gold fields.

She went to the bed, kicked off her boots, tossed her hat onto the dresser, and stretched out on top of the covers. The cotton mattress felt wonderful after sleeping on the hard ground. In a few moments she was asleep.

Mayme’s pocket watch read a few minutes after eight. She couldn’t believe she’d slept so long. The last vestiges of daylight had been replaced by splinters of moonlight that penetrated the curtains.

Voices from below mingled together to create a dull roar that rose and lowered in tempo like the ebb and flow of waves on a lake.

Her stomach grumbled and reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything since a quick breakfast on the trail. She rubbed her eyes and poured water into the basin. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, and very nearly didn’t recognize the figure that reflected back. Her face sagged with the fatigue of days on the trail and the stress of entering the unknown. She ruffled her hair and then pasted it in place with damp hands after splashing her face.

Feeling more awake now, and even hungrier, she ventured out.

She stood at the top of the stairs and surveyed the floor. The saloon was nearly full with men drinking at the bar or tables. Some were apparently asleep with their heads resting on folded arms. Others played cards, still others were enjoying a hot meal. A silver haze from smoke clung to the ceiling, moving only when someone came in from outside.

In the far corner, a scantily clothed woman stood next to a seated man. She looked around as if bored while he fondled her breasts with one hand and stroked her backside with the other. Something about her seemed familiar, but in the poor light, Mayme couldn’t be sure.

There was one empty stool next to the bar and it was there she headed. The seat next to it was comfortably far enough away and occupied by one of the sleeping men.

“Ready for that meal now?” Miles wiped the surface in front of her with a rag that long ago must have been white.

“Yes, sir.”

“You have your choice tonight. Boiled elk roast and mashed taters or boiled elk roast and mashed taters.” A well-hidden grin raised his moustache.

Mayme chuckled and shrugged. “Hard choice, but I think I’ll have the elk and potatoes. Could I please just have some water with that?”

“Not a drinker?”

“My horse hates the smell of it.” Mayme smiled at her little white lie. “And I’m not allowed to drink. Boss’s orders.”

“I see.” The bartender poured a glass of water and expertly slid it to her waiting hands. “I’ll put your order in. It shouldn’t be long.”

 

MAYME SIPPED FROM her glass and spun around to put her back against the bar. She stole glances at the various patrons, but her gaze kept flitting back to the woman she’d seen from the upstairs floor. As she was now in better light, Mayme could see the woman had crimson hair, but so far she hadn’t been able to get a good look at her face.

The man who’d been fondling her had apparently lost interest in her. He’d gotten to his feet, albeit unsteadily, and was heading in the direction of a younger girl on the other side of the room.

“Here you go, young fella. Eat ’em up.”

Mayme turned as Miles placed the plate full of aromatic food in front of her. Her mouth watered in anticipation and she eagerly picked up the knife and fork. She closed her eyes and hummed when she put the first mouthful of sweet meat into her mouth.

“Now that’s what I like to see. A young man enjoying his food.”

Mayme shoved in another mouthful and looked toward the voice. Betty! She gasped and a piece of meat lodged in her throat. She doubled over, and while the woman thumped her on the back, she choked and gagged until the errant lump dropped onto the floor.

“Land sakes, are you all right?”

Mayme nodded but kept her head down. She did but she didn’t want to look up at the woman who she’d recognized. The same Betty she’d met on the train months earlier. The one person in this town who stood a chance of recognizing her.

“Miles, get him something stronger to drink. Put it on my tab.”

“Sure thing, Kitty.”

Kitty? Mayme shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I’m okay.” Her voice was raspy and she had a hard time keeping it in character of Nathan. She had no idea how she was going to handle this if Betty didn’t leave soon.

Betty shot her a strange look. “Never mind. Bring his food and a tall glass of water to my room. Bring a scotch for me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Betty grasped Mayme by the arm. “Come with me.”

She allowed herself to be led upstairs and through a door that went into a different section of the building. Betty stopped at door number five and removed a key from her bodice. Mayme worked to keep from smiling. Betty’s safe.

Betty unlocked the door, pulled Mayme inside, and latched the door.

Mayme took in the surroundings. There was a bed in one corner, in another a stove, a coal hod, and a bundle of kindling sitting near it. A small dresser with a washbasin was pushed against the wall. Permeating everything was a mixture of disinfectant, hair oil, and cheap perfume. A few pictures hung on the walls, oddly enough, with innocent scenes of flowers and mountains.

“I never in a million years expected to see you here, let alone in a saloon.”

Mayme turned and for the first time, looked openly at Betty. Her red dress was nearly as fancy as a ball gown. Its elaborate lace stitching flowed down the neckline. Silken laces so fine, they barely seemed to contain Betty’s bust. A decorative braid wrapped tightly around her waist and accentuated her voluptuous curves.

“I thought you were headed to California. And why did Miles call you Kitty?”

Betty sighed and pointed to her bed.

Mayme hesitated.

“Please. Sit. We have a lot to catch up on.”

There was a knock on the door. Betty opened it and took the platter holding Mayme’s food and the drinks. “Thanks, Miles. Please make sure I’m not disturbed for a few hours.”

Miles winked. “Sure thing.”

Betty latched the door and set the platter on her dresser. “Here.” She handed Mayme her plate of food. “You eat, I’ll talk. Then I want to know why you’re dressed as a young man in a rough mining town.”

“Okay.” Mayme sliced a piece of meat and put it in her mouth. The food had cooled but was still very edible.

“I never made it to California like I’d planned. When the train stopped in Salt Lake City, I received word that Oro Fino Creek had need of a saloon proprietor. It took me a month to gather enough money, but I was finally able to make my way back to Idaho.”

Mayme widened her eyes. “Only a month?”

Betty raised her chin slightly. “Yes, well, I’m a good business woman if I say so myself.”

Mayme recalled what she’d seen earlier and it became clear. Very clear.

“You’re a prostitute.”

“I prefer painted lady.” Betty flicked imaginary dust off her lap. Her long nails caused lines in the dress fabric.

“Why does Miles call you Kitty?”

Betty frowned. “Women like me are not always looked upon with approval. Especially when some of the men that frequent a brothel are married. So it’s not uncommon for a painted lady to change her name when she relocates.”

“I see.”

“You don’t think less of me, do you, Mayme?” Betty’s lower lip protruded in a small pout.

“Of course not. I don’t quite understand why you would allow someone to grope you the way I saw that man did earlier. But to each their own, I guess.”

“You have to understand that jobs are far and few out here. Some women lose their husbands and have no family or money, or sometimes their families would ask them to leave home, and if they have no place to go, or no skills, they have only one answer.”

“Which one were you?”

Betty threw her head back and laughed. “I, my dear, chose this profession for a life of adventure.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “And to escape the rules of women behaviour. I simply hate being told what to do, what to wear, how to behave.” She took Mayme’s empty plate and set it on the dresser, then traded it for Mayme’s glass of water and her scotch. “Your turn. What have you done and who’s after you?”

Her question made Mayme laugh. “Nobody is after me and aside from a few white lies, I haven’t done anything wrong.” When she finished relating her story to Betty, who she now had to refer to as Kitty at Betty’s request, she took a deep breath and waited.

Kitty stared at her for a moment and then shook her head.

“So what you’re telling me is that the money I gave you is stalled in the livery.”

“Yes. I’ll pay you back as—”

“No. You absolutely will not.” A devilish grin narrowed her painted lips. “I love that you’re fooling all those egotistical idiots out there who think everything but cooking, cleaning, and child birthing is man’s work. Will this be your regular route?”

“According to Lawrence, my boss in Eagle Rock, it should be.”

Kitty patted her lap with glee. “Excellent. I insist you stay here every time.”

“Um. In your room? What if you’re—?”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll have Miles set one up for you before you come back.”