That morning, they packed up their things and readied for the road ahead. The next town over would take them at least a week to reach, meaning that Violet’s chances of being followed this time were slim to none. Samuel’s men cooked them a send-off breakfast, which Samuel himself attended. His knee had been bandaged tightly, and he spent the meal nursing an old crutch. As to the origin of his injury, no one said a word. Violet herself had been fairly quiet that morning, too. Her mind was still buzzing from the night before.
She fucks girls. Violet had been raised with high morals, the same as anybody, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew the basics of what a husband and wife did behind closed doors. Additionally (now more than ever), she understood the desires that lurked in evil men’s hearts. And yet…two women? How was that possible, how did it work? After the initial shock, Violet was stuck on the simple mechanics of it all. Charlie had taught her most of what she knew about copulation. When a man was ready to father children, he would penetrate his wife and, God willing, spread his seed. What more was there? Violet’s mind had been so high in the clouds that she barely noticed when they set off again. Maple walked slowly beside the rest, allowing Violet’s thoughts to wander.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Mei said after a few hours on the road. Huī had stepped up beside Maple at a sturdy pace, his black coat shimmering in the late morning sunlight. “Something on your mind?”
Violet shifted in Maple’s saddle. So many questions sat on her tongue, yet she hesitated to speak them. “Nothing,” she said finally.
“Nothing,” Mei repeated. “Never play poker, girl. You’ll get called out every time.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Means you’re a shit liar.”
Violet stared at the back of Maple’s head, her fingers twirling in her mane. “I just…I’m curious, I suppose.”
Mei smiled crookedly. “‘Bout me, I reckon.”
“Yes.”
“Go on then. I ain’t shy.”
Clearly, Violet thought. “Well…” She ran her tongue back and forth along her teeth. “Have you ever…I mean…What makes you…?”
“Prefer women?” Mei finished. “Allow me to speculate, but I’d venture you’ve never known someone in the biblical sense, have ya?” Violet turned red, which was enough of an answer for Mei. “Men are sloppy, quick, short-sighted lovers. A little in, a little out, and then—” Mei blew a raspberry, flapping her hand limply in the breeze.
Violet was visibly uncomfortable with the topic, but curiosity probed her forward. “H-have you—?”
“With a man? Never.”
“Then how do you know you would be so opposed to them?”
Mei snarked at such a question. “Same way you know a rattler’s poison. Some other poor soul died before it bit you. I’ve known enough workin’ girls in my life to know the limits of your average man.”
“So that’s why? Because men simply don’t suit you? Why not just abstain all together rather than…than…”
“That ain’t the only reason, certainly. Just one of the main ones. Besides…” Mei shifted on her saddle, finding a more comfortable spot to ride in. “Once you know what it’s like, I doubt celibacy will be the first thing on your mind.”
“You don’t know what’d be on my mind!” Violet squeaked. “A-and who says I’d even—? I’m no workin’ girl. My mama raised me right! The only person I’ll ever know is the man chosen to be my husband, under God and the church.”
“I see,” said Mei. “And is this your will or your mama’s?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters plenty.” Mei leaned forward on her saddle horn, her face shadowed by the round brim of her black hat. “Listen. Far be it from me to tell you how to live your life, but you won’t be goin’ back to Redrock any time soon. What, did you have a fiancé back home?”
Violet hesitated. “No. Mama was edgin’ me towards Eustace Carpenter, but…”
“But?”
“Well…I never liked Eustace. When we were children, he was always cruel. Nothing changed much when we got older.”
“I see. A sweetheart then?”
Violet thought about it. “I don’t…No, I suppose not. I did kiss Warwick Johnson on the lips when I was twelve on a dare, but I can’t say I enjoyed it. He tasted like dirt, I remember.”
“So you don’t have no fiancé and you’ve never had a sweetheart.”
“That’s right.”
Suddenly, Mei was smiling. She sat upright with a chuckle. “Who’s to say you ain’t in the same boat as me then?”
A shock went down Violet’s spine. She pulled on Maple’s reins, halting her all together. Mei watched her with mild interest. For a moment, Violet wordlessly gaped, opening and closing her mouth like a suffocating fish. “I—you—how-how dare—!”
“Oh? Taken that as an insult, have we?”
“I am not like you!” Violet finally blurted out. “You don’t know nothin’ about me; we couldn’t be more different!”
“Is that right?”
“It is!” Violet proclaimed. “I ain’t never considered such unsavory thoughts, for one thing. And for another—for another—why even if I had, I would know better than to act!”
Mei rounded Huī in front of Maple, her eyes locked dead on Violet’s. “Let me ask you this then: when was the last time you felt your heart flutter? When was the last time that pure virgin’s blood of yours ran hot like liquor? Or had there even been a last time?” Violet was very still. She tried thinking back to a time when she felt such things. Had she ever? After a moment, Violet realized that right then, her heart felt like it was beating a thousand drums. Her neck pulsed quickly, and she felt sweat on her palms the tighter she clutched Maple’s reins.
“What about it?” Violet finally responded. Mei edged Huī forward until she and Violet were face to face.
“Now when was the last time such feelings were brought on by a man?” Violet’s throat was dry. Unable to take much more, she jerked Maple away and trotted to catch up with the others. Mei did not push the subject for the rest of the day.
* * * *
Violet woke at sunrise, though not by choice. She had slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning in her bundle of sheepskin blankets (lent to her by the Railwalkers). When the sun began to show, she had barely fallen into a light slumber, which was quickly disrupted by a strange, pained sound of someone moaning. Sleepy, Violet pried her eyes open and looked around the camp. The boys were asleep soundly, and had not yet noticed the sound. Sitting up, Violet spotted Mei curled up on her side, facing away from her. Her knees were tucked into her stomach, held tightly by crossed arms. Her blanket had slipped off during the night. From behind, Violet could see a small spot of red seeping through her trousers.
Quietly, Violet walked over to Mei and knelt beside her. She gently touched her shoulder. “Mei?” she whispered. Mei shifted, her eyes barely opening. Her face was pale, and dark tendrils of hair were stuck to her skin with cold sweat. “Do you have a rag?” she asked. Mei nodded wordlessly and gestured to Huī’s saddle bag. Violet glanced around them. Not far off, she spotted a small creek bed, with a few large rocks adorning the shore. “Let’s get you washed first. Here. Grab on.” Mei reached up and took hold of Violet’s shoulder. With a heave, she pulled Mei to her feet, and brought her to the edge of the creek.
Before sitting her down, Violet laid out her own sheepskin blanket along the gravel for Mei’s comfort, and urged her to sit behind one of the rocks for privacy. As Mei undressed her lower half, Violet went back to camp and returned with a spare set of trousers and an old, thoroughly used wash rag. She frowned at the brown stained cloth, unsatisfied with its condition. Still, she returned with it.
“How old is this?” she asked. Mei, who had managed to slip out of her bloodied pants, simply shrugged. Violet shook her head. “I knew a girl who got sick from using somethin’ so old. Here.” She knelt down and washed the rag in the creek. After squeezing it out, she handed it to Mei. “Wipe yourself down. I’ll bring you something else.”
“Something else?”
“Yes. Go on now.” When Violet returned to camp a second time, she began to rifle through the supplies bartered for back at Samuel’s outpost. When she came up empty, she noticed a piece of cloth hanging out from beneath Maple’s saddle. The saddle blanket had been bought fairly recently, Violet remembered, as a birthday gift. She fumbled through Mei’s effects until coming across her big, terrifying hunting knife. Approaching Maple, she began to cut off a decently sized square from its corner.
By the time she returned to the creek bed, Mei had wiped herself clean. The now soiled rag lay next to her. “Here we are.” Violet washed the shred of blanket in the water, wrung it out thoroughly, and then cupped it in her hands while blowing hot breath into it. Mei stared at her, confused.
“What are you…?”
“Well, you don’t want no cold rag, do you? I’m warmin’ it up for you.” Once it was at a proper temperature, Violet handed it to Mei and returned to camp a third time while she dressed. It took some time, but eventually, Mei began limping her way back to camp. The others were awake by now, and just starting to cook breakfast. Next to the pot of coffee seated directly into the fire, there was a second pot with something unusual submerged in water. Mei squinted at it.
“Should be done,” said Linus to Violet. Taking a pair of wooden tongs, he reached in and pulled out another ripped piece of blanket from the pot. “Careful,” he warned, “it’s hot.”
Violet took it delicately and nodded in thanks. She then rounded to Mei and gestured to Mei’s bedroll and blankets, which had been made neatly while Mei was by the creek. “Lay down.”
“Why?”
“Please.”
Mei was clearly suspicious, but laid on her back. “Under the blankets,” Violet instructed. With a huff, Mei did as was asked. When Violet was satisfied, she set the hot cloth on the blanket, directly on top of Mei’s abdomen. Mei’s face turned to sudden relief and she let out a deep sigh.
“My God…”
“Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Mei’s entire body relaxed.
“If it gets cold, let me know and I’ll warm it back up for you.”
Mei shifted, opening her eyes. “Warm it back up? We’d be on the road by then.”
Linus was the one to answer this time. “Not today,” he said. “Miss Violet has insisted that we take time to rest while you regain your strength.”
Mei huffed. “Horseshit. A few hours like this and I’ll be right as rain.”
Rory, his mouth messy with strawberry jam, piped up. “We don’t like it when you bleedin’, Mei. We know it hurts ya, and hurts ya bad, but you never let us help. Sides, we don’t mind stoppin’ a bit.”
“It is wise to know one’s limitations,” Sitting Bear added. “If we are caught and you are weak, we are all weak.”
Mei pushed herself up, her hair still stuck to her sweating face and neck. “Now you look here,” she began. “I ain’t no meek female. I’m worth twice any man’s weight in gold—” She stopped only when Violet laid a hand on her shoulder.
“You think after all this time with you we wouldn’t know that?” Linus asked.
Violet tenderly laid her back down. “There’s no shame in taking care of yourself,” she said. “Sitting Bear is right, and I’ve seen more than my share of girls fall to fever because they neglected their bodies. That’s the last thing anyone wants right now.”
Clearly, Mei wanted to argue more, but exhaustion won out, and she stayed quiet. Violet stood and dusted off the bottom of her skirt. “Now then. You rest up, eat some breakfast, and I’ll go wash them britches for ya.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. End of discussion.”
Mei turned her head away. There was an odd expression in her face; one that Violet knew, but could never picture fitting someone like Mei. The bold, legendary Railwalker who spoke so openly about fornication, tobacco, and alcohol, was embarrassed. While Violet had half a mind to tease her for it (turnabout was fair play, after all), Violet left it alone and returned to the creek bed, where she began to scrub Mei’s dirty trousers.
The day that followed was slow and gentle. Mei napped for most of the morning, and Violet was sure to keep her cloth warm and comfortable. After washing Mei’s pants, Violet suggested that they should take some time to wash anything else that needed it. She and Sitting Bear gathered up what they could, and soon, a line of laundry hung dry between two nearby trees. Mei was up for dinner, and they finished off the last of the cornbread with a bowl full of beans each. Violet even rinsed out Mei’s rag for her around mid-day in spite of Mei’s protests that it was “barely used.” Mei was too restless to sleep after that, so she and Linus played cards for the afternoon while Violet and Rory explored the nearby woods. They found a small family of rabbits, two foxes, a beehive (Violet made sure to keep Rory as far away as possible), a colorful array of all kinds of mushrooms, and endless patches of wildflowers. They had picked a bushel each before returning for supper. They ate as the sun went down. After hot food and a few off-color jokes, they settled in for the night. Mei, sitting up against a log, was fighting with her knotted, sweaty hair, having not brushed it yet. Violet could only watch for so long before stepping forward.
“Here. You’re gonna rip it all out at this rate.” She held her hand out for the brush.
Mei pouted. “I can take care of myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t.” Still, Violet’s hand remained outstretched.
Finally giving way, Mei handed Violet the brush and scooted forward an inch. Violet sat on the log behind her and began to brush. “Would you like a braid?” Mei nodded. “All right.” Humming softly, Violet focused on her work. She was about half way through when Mei spoke up.
“You didn’t have to do none of this, you know,” she said. Violet smiled.
“No,” she agreed. “But I can’t imagine bein’ on your own during your lady days. I always had someone to care for me, and I was sure to return the favor. It’s so miserable otherwise.” Mei stayed silent, staring into the fire. Violet gently guided the brush down her long trail of silky black hair, most of the knots having been dealt with. “My word…I swear I’ve never seen hair this long. And it’s so beautiful.” She threaded her fingers through it. It felt like thousands of satin strands slipping across her skin.
“It’s just hair,” said Mei.
“It’s gorgeous.” Again, Mei went quiet. Violet picked up the ends and brushed them smooth. Even with the hair’s beauty, the ends were frayed and damaged from heat and ware. Violet examined it in the firelight. “Still, you should probably trim these ends here. It’s gettin’ frizzy.”
“No.”
“Why not? I’m sure there’s some sheers somewhere, I could just—”
“I said no.”
Violet stalled, an uncomfortable silence between them. Violet went back to brushing. Eventually, she was satisfied enough to start braiding. Her fingers worked seamlessly, a slick, even braid forming down the spine of Mei’s back. “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
“Your brush. What kinda lizard is on it?”
Mei actually turned around, pausing Violet’s hands. “Lizard?” she clarified.
“Ain’t that what it is? I’ve never seen a lizard with no mustache before, though. It can’t be a snake, cause snakes don’t got arms, so…”
Mei smiled, a bright flame of humor in her gaze. “Lizard,” she repeated. She laughed freely and turned back around, letting Violet get back to work. “It ain’t no lizard, child. It’s a dragon.”
“What?” Violet stopped again to examine the brush. She frowned. “No, this ain’t a dragon. Where’s the wings?”
“It don’t need wings. Flies on the air.”
“Nonsense. Everything that flies needs wings.”
“Not this.”
“Well, it don’t look like any dragon I’ve ever seen before,” Violet pointed out stubbornly. “Dragons are fat with big, bat wings. They breathe fire and eat knights in shining armor. I used to have a story book all about them when I was little.”
“These are different dragons.” Mei held up the brush, casting firelight onto the carved ivory. “These dragons are wise. Some bring the rain, some bring the wind. They ask riddles and make thunder crash from above.”
“Sounds more like God than a dragon.”
“Who says it isn’t?” Mei shifted her head. “That braid done yet?”
Violet huffed, but took the twine from her lap. “Just about.” Pinching the end of the loose braid, Violet took a thin piece of leather and wrapped it tightly around the tail. When she’d wrapped it for as far as it could go, Violet knotted it off and slipped a silver hair pin through the leather, holding it in place. “There we are.”
Mei slipped it forward from her shoulder and examined it. “Thank you,” she said. “You did a lovely job.”
Violet beamed and sat down beside her. They stared at the dwindling campfire, listening to the song of crickets in the black world around them. Eventually, Violet picked the brush back up and once again examined it. She felt the smooth, worn-out etchings against her fingertips, and wondered again just how old it was.
“Is it from China?” she asked.
Mei hesitated. Her eyes flickered between the fire and the brush before answering. “It was my mother’s. And her mother’s. And hers. So yes.”
“It must be very old.”
“It is.”
Violet plucked a hair from its bristles. “Did your mother have long hair like you?” Suddenly, Violet was inundated with questions. “What’s she like? Where is she, even? Back in Nevada? Does she know what you do—?”
Mei pulled the brush from Violet’s hands. “I’m tired,” she announced. “Goodnight, girl.” Turning away, Mei laid on her side and blocked her face from Violet’s view. But Violet did not go easily. She folded her arms, remaining where she was.
“I have a name, you know. It’s Violet.”
“Does it matter? In a week’s time, our paths part. Your name could be ‘Bill’ for all the good it would do. Now go to sleep.” Violet was startled by Mei’s cold send off. Her pride wounded, Violet stood and marched to her bedroll, turning in for the night, herself. Now alone with her thoughts, Violet didn’t know what was worse: Mei’s harsh words, or the fact that she was absolutely correct.
Mei was far better off the next morning. As the week rolled by, Violet grew to know the Railwalkers more and more. She spent most of her time with Rory, often exploring nooks and crannies found along their travels. As Linus had suggested, the Railwalkers stayed far away from any main roads or obvious traveling areas. No doubt this was a wise decision on their part, but she wondered just how much length had been added to their journey because of it. If Violet was going to be completely honest, she didn’t mind the longer road by now.
Sleeping Bear did most of the cooking, with the exception of a couple of stews made by Linus. Violet always offered to help cook, figuring that her contributions could repay at least some of her debt. Linus gave her the job of prep cook, and so Violet spent her afternoons peeling potatoes and slicing meats. Occasionally, Rory brought in a squirrel or a rabbit caught in one of his snares. Violet was quick to find that despite his age, Rory was quite handy with ropes and knots. Violet went with him on the mornings he set his traps. A simple loop of twine, tied to two branches: a low hanging, loose branch, close to the ground, and a taut secondary branch, pulled firmly and tied to the twine to keep in place. Once some poor creature wandered in, they would catch themselves in the noose and flung up to the sky, their neck snapping in the process. There was a net for fishing he liked to use as well, but their travels had led them away from the creek bed, and so, it remained untouched. Whenever he returned with his spoils, Sitting Bear would clean and skin the game, and spend the evenings tanning the hides and stowing them away for later.
“How much longer we got?” Violet asked one day as she chopped carrots.
Linus added a sprinkle of some kind of spice into the campfire pot. It was just an hour or two before sunset. “Eager to get rid of us that quickly?” he teased.
Violet smiled. “Just wondering, is all.”
“Let’s see.” Linus looked around him, surveying the land. “I’d say one more day should do it.”
“Where are we going, anyhow?”
“Malvern.”
“Is it nice?”
“Nice as anywhere.”
Violet went quiet, staring at the carrots in her lap. Linus quickly noticed her silence. “Something on your mind?” he asked.
“No…Well…Yes.” Violet picked up the carving knife and continued to cut thick slices of carrot. “I suppose I’m nervous. New town and all. Gotta introduce myself all over again to all sorts of strangers.”
Linus shrugged. “There are worse things if you ask me.”
“I guess.” When she finished off the carrot, she dumped the slices into the boiling pot. “I just wonder how I’ll get along on my own. When I was in Little Rock, I at least had some money to my name.”
“We ain’t leavin’ you broke, Violet. You know that.”
“But why though? I never understood why y’all went out of your way like this to help me. I’m probably more trouble than I’m worth.”
“Heh. Well, I won’t say you weren’t trouble, for sure. But Mei would never forgive herself if she left you in danger like that.”
“Mei?” Violet turned and spotted Mei on the horizon. She was scouting the area, making sure it was a safe place to camp for the night. “Why would Mei care?”
“Ain’t you figured it out by now?” Violet shook her head, and Linus stirred the pot. “We told you before we help people.”
“By killin’ people…” Violet mumbled.
“Killin’ people who deserve to be killed,” Linus insisted. “Any how…We do it for money, sure. In fact, where we’re headin’ is where we pick up our pay. But we also do it to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Mei especially.”
“Why especially?”
Linus’s hands slowed, seeming torn with how to answer such a question. “Perhaps one day, she might tell you.”
“If I ever see y’all again.” Violet hadn’t intended it to sound as miserable as it was. She glanced at Linus. “Let’s say you drop me off, and I’m all alone. Sure, I have some money and a place to sleep but…but then what? Just be on my own for the rest of my life?”
“You woulda been on your own back in Little Rock.”
“At least in Little Rock I had some personal effects. I wasn’t that far from home; I could send letters. Maybe even send for my family when it was safe to. Now, all I got is…” Her hand lingered on the leather bound journal next to her. Her eyes saddened. “Strangely enough…y’all were starting to feel like friends to me. Tomorrow I’ll be more alone than I ever was.”
Linus rested the wooden spoon against his cooking pot, watching her curiously. “You are something else, Miss Violet, you know that?”
“What’s that mean?”
Linus smiled. “You got yourself a spark. Heart on your sleeve, honest to a fault, that’s you, I reckon. Why, I bet you couldn’t tell a lie if your life depended on it.”
“That’s not true,” Violet protested. “I used to fib all the time when I was little. One winter, Charlie made a whole batch of chocolate cookies and I ate every single one before Mama’s Christmas party.” Violet paused, remembering that night. “She figured it out, a’course.”
“Like I said,” Linus repeated, “not if your life depended on it.”
Violet scrunched her knees to her chest, staring at the toes of her muddy boots. “Well…ain’t such a bad thing, is it? Bein’ honest.”
“No, ma’am,” said Linus. “Most folk would think it a virtue, don’t get me wrong.”
“Though most folk are exceptionally thick when it comes to such things.” Mei had entered the conversation, taking a seat opposite Violet. “A good lie can save your hide when you need it to.”
“And what if I never need it to?” Violet insisted. “Live a life of piety and you should never need to resort to trickery.”
“In a perfect world, perhaps. In that tiny home town of yours, sure. But not out here. Not in the world we live in. More often than not, the truth gets you into worse trouble than a nice, easy lie.”
Violet huffed, her shoulders squared as she stared Mei down. “You’re nothin’ but a wily fox in the hen house.”
“Guilty.”
“At least you’re honest about that.” Violet sighed and let her head droop behind her. The sun was nearly down by now, and stars had begun to blink into existence. “What happens if I’m attacked again?” Violet looked up, and both Linus and Mei kept their eyes averted. “Seems like I can’t go nowhere without some greasy man puttin’ his hands on me. What happens the next time?” Mei was visibly uncomfortable, having clearly not given that question any thought. Violet looked to Linus, but he had no answers, either.
“If anything happens,” Mei finally said, “you get in contact with us somehow. We’ll fix ‘em up—”
“So I’m just supposed to let it happen first? Is that it? Then you swoop in and murder someone else?”
Mei turned to her. “I could teach you a few things. It won’t be much, but it’ll be enough to get you out of a tough scrape if you need it.” Violet bit her lip. She was instantly uncomfortable about what “some things” could possibly mean. But, with her options limited, Violet nodded in agreement. Mei stood, and motioned for Violet to stand with her. She did so, and they stepped away from the campfire.
“Right.” Mei removed her jacket. “Now, let’s say some bastard is comin’ for you from the front.” Mei inched close, and Violet caught a whiff of Mei’s scent. She smelled like smoke and worn leather and oils. A strange thrill shot through her. “First thing you want to do is aim for the nose. Lemme see your hand here.” She took Violet’s right hand and tilted the palm upwards, making it perpendicular to the ground. Violet couldn’t help but notice the countless calluses on Mei’s fingers. They were so unlike any other woman’s hands she’d ever felt. “You take the heel of your hand, and with all your might—” Mei moved Violet’s hand forward, locking her elbow straight in the process. “Right here in the nose. Breaks it easy, gives you time to run off. If you can’t reach his nose, aim for his throat—” Mei balled Violet’s hand into a fist, resting it on her throat. “—or you take your knee—” She lifted Violet’s leg, her skirts shifting as she struggled to stay balanced. “—and wham. Right in his balls.”
Violet withdrew, shocked at the suggestion. “In his privates? Lord, how much would that hurt?!”
“Not nearly as much as what he’d do to you, trust me. Now if he’s comin’ from behind…” Mei walked around Violet, and gently laid her arm around Violet’s throat. Mei’s body was warm, and her hot breath on Violet’s nape made her tiny hairs hair bristle. “Grab my wrist there.” Violet did as was instructed with both hands. “Now what you want to do is bend that sucker as hard as you can. It helps if you bend his pinky back, too. Once his arm is down, you peel away, and take off runnin’. And I mean you run as fast as you very well can. Then get in touch with us.”
“How do I do that?” Violet turned to face Mei, but found that this was a terribly awful idea. Her words died in her throat as she realized that she far closer to Mei than propriety dictated. Their slight difference in height was immediately noticeable, as Mei’s extra couple inches made her feel like a tree giving Violet shade. Once again, Violet found herself caught in Mei’s warm, black beetle eyes. She forced herself to step away and spoke again. “Heaven knows where y’all will be if it ever does happen again. Half way between here and the edge of the world, most like…Not as if I can send a letter, can I?”
“There are ways,” Mei assured her. “We have a contact in Malvern. If you ever need us, talk to her, and she’ll get the word out.”
“And what if word don’t get out fast enough?” Violet pushed. “What if I get away from the scrape, then what? He follows me, tracks me down and comes at me with a gun or a knife or—”
“You worry too much.”
“And you don’t seem to worry about nothin’!”
“I worry plenty.”
“About what?”
Mei had seemed to have her fill of the conversation and turned away. “Nothing is ever certain in life. You can’t keep hiding from it forever and forget to live.”
“Better to live a coward than die an idiot,” Violet retorted.
Surprisingly, Linus was the one to answer. “She’s got a point there, Mei.” Mei swiped her jacket from the ground and took a seat on her yet unmade bedroll. The soup would be ready soon enough. No one seemed interested in furthering the conversation.
They packed up and took off at sunup, after a light breakfast. They rode quietly, for the most of it, with very little change in their scenery until about mid-morning. As the sun was prickling the top of Violet’s head, she noticed a few scattered buildings far beyond the horizon of the prairie and trees. She shielded her eyes and squinted. “That it?”
“That’s it,” Linus affirmed. “Should be there by dinner time.” Linus took up the front of the party and led them down a winding, dirt road. Tree stumps cropped up on either side of their path as the forest gave way to the wide open plains around them. Violet could see the growing details of a train station, a few local buildings, a general store, and other recognizable structures. As they traveled further in, Violet noticed something else. A small gust of hot wind turned her attention to the right. A bubbling spring, small and shallow, babbled hot against the red earth. Violet slowed Maple down, staring at it curiously. Before she could ask a question, Sitting Bear had slipped from his saddle and led his mustang towards the spring.
“Hot springs,” said Mei. “Malvern is known for ‘em.” Violet watched as Sitting Bear rested next to the spring’s shore, his legs crossed tightly.
“What’s he doin’?” Violet asked.
“Bear don’t like to go into this here town.” Rory, with some help, climbed onto the back of Linus’s saddle and got comfortable.
“Why not? He came into Little Rock—”
“Little Rock don’t mean the same.” Linus turned his mare back towards Malvern and gave it a little nudge with the heel of his boot. “We best move on now.”
“And just leave him?” Violet watched, shocked, as the Railwalkers calmly left their companion behind. Sitting Bear paid them no mind. Violet turned between Sitting Bear and the Railwalkers, before finally catching up with the rest. “Why’re you just leavin’ him on his own like that?”
“He’s happier this way,” said Linus. “Trust us.”
“All alone?”
“He’s not alone,” Rory piped up. “The ghosts’re here with him.”
Violet screwed up her brow in frustration. “Now Rory, you know there ain’t no such thing as ghosts, donchya?”
“There are,” Rory argued. “Bear talks about ‘em sometimes. Ghosts of his family.” Violet felt a chill run through her heart, despite the heat. She tried making eye contact with Linus or Mei. Neither one of them looked away from the road. Violet looked over her shoulder. Sitting Bear remained where he was, transfixed by the water. It took a while for Violet to speak again.
“What kind of Injun is he, anyway? I know there are different kinds.”
Mei kept her eyes set on Malvern, but answered. “Sitting Bear is Caddo. He and his family used to live on the northern border of Texas on Indian land. When he was young, Bear would come here to the hot springs. They say the water has healing powers.”
“Where’s his family now?” Violet probed. “What happened to them?”
But Mei shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a story I should be telling. Come on. We’re almost there.” Mei dug her boot into Huī’s ribs and the horse jolted into a sprint. The others followed suit, and before long, Malvern was upon them.
It was far less intimidating than Little Rock had been. The buildings were smaller, but wider, with uneven roads worn down by wheels and footsteps. Off in the distance, she spotted the train station she’d seen earlier, which was empty at the moment. But the platform was larger than she first thought. She could only imagine how many people would come and go on that railway. Trees dotted the landscape beyond the town, which sat under a wide, clear blue sky. Mei led their horses to the front of the nameless saloon in the center of town. They stepped inside. Instantly, the hot sun faded away as the swinging doors shut. Unlike the crowded saloon of Little Rock, Malvern’s public house was nearly empty. A worn-out piano gathered dust in the corner. A few dirty bottles with indistinguishable labels sat in front of a dirty, cracked mirror, reflecting into the center of the bar. Violet could feel the floorboards shift as she walked, creaking under the heels of her boots.
“Mornin’ Jim,” said Mei. The bartender, whom Violet didn’t notice until now, merely nodded at their arrival. Jim had a swollen head perched atop a spindly, thin neck. His eyes were watery and small. His clothes had come apart at the seams many a time, only to be sloppily patched back together.
The Railwalkers sat at the bar—Rory included—and Linus took a few crumpled bills from his pocket, laying them on the bar top. The tender took the cash without hesitation. Violet remained standing, and continued to look around the room.
“Is Ruby up yet?” Mei asked.
“Still sleepin’ I think,” Jim replied. “That woman might as well be dead, she sleeps so much.”
“How about a few drinks first, then I’ll rouse her. Sarsaparilla for the young’n.” Jim poured two shots of whiskey for Mei and Linus, and uncorked a black bottle, thick with dust, to pour out for Rory, who licked his lips in anticipation.
“And for that one?” Violet jumped when she was addressed. Mei, who knocked back her whiskey without a problem, turned to Violet.
“Well?” she asked. “Thirsty?”
“No thank you.” Violet pointedly turned her head. She noticed a wooden signed hammered to the wall near the rising stairwell. Curious, she inched closer and read the sloppily painted words: BATHS 5¢. Her heart leapt and she spun around. “Bath,” she blurted out. The others turned to her. “I would…erm…well I…”
“You’d like a bath, Miss?” Jim clarified.
“Yes—” Her face fell as she realized, however, she had not a red cent to her name, let alone enough to pay for a luxury like a bath. “No. I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t afford it.”
“She’ll take a bath.” Mei turned back to Jim, laying another half dollar on the table. “A nice, long one.”
“Of course. Right this way, Miss.” Leaving his rag on the bar, Jim left the counter and motioned Violet to follow him up the stairs. His movements were slow, though to Violet, he didn’t appear that old. The second floor had a long, threadbare carpet lining the narrow hallway. Unlit gas lamps sat at the door frame of every room, which had painted numbers in the same, sloppy hand as the bath sign. “The bath tub is down the hall here, Miss,” said Jim. “Might come out a little hot, now. We get the water directly from the springs. You be sure not to burn yourself.”
“I won’t,” Violet promised. She noticed faint muffling coming from a room or two. It sounded like laughter. “You get plenty of business here, Mr. Jim?”
“Enough,” Jim shrugged. “More when we get a train in.” They were nearing the door to the bath room when one of the other doors on Violet’s right suddenly swung open. A cowboy, his hat dipped low and his pants unbuttoned, was struggling with his belt as he hopped his way out. Violet pulled back to give him room, but he barely noticed her. With a smile on his face, he turned and thanked whoever was inside before heading to the stairway. As he left, a woman took his place.
She was Violet’s height, perhaps her age or slightly older. A silk slip slid from her creamy shoulder, dotted with freckles. From her head spilled beautiful, auburn red curls. They reminded Violet of the dirt they passed outside. The fabric barely clung to her body, which clearly had nothing underneath it. Her eyes were a swirl of green and brown, glinting in the sunlight from the window behind her. Violet turned her eyes away.
How could anyone be so indecent—?! she thought.
“Well now,” said Jim. “You have a good night, Miss Ruby?”
Ruby?
“Mm.” Her smudged, red lips dripped into a smile. She leaned on the edge of the door frame, her back flattening against the wood. She reminded Violet of the old paintings in some of her books. “I’d say so,” she sighed. “What’s life worth living if you can’t enjoy your work, hm?” Her eyes flickered to Violet. “New client?”
“Just taking her to the bath. No need to get excited.”
Ruby’s smile twisted wider. Violet tried to keep her expression blank, but clearly, something about her face intrigued Ruby. She inched forward, delighted at Violet’s trembling. “Such a delicate thing. May I?” Ruby gently took Violet’s hand and examined it. Though Ruby herself was a beauty, her hands told stories of work and toil. Her nails were chipped, and lined with dirt. She had some calluses, like Mei, though not nearly as many. “Precious,” she hissed. “They’re like gloves. A little dirty, but…”
“She came with Mei,” Jim added.
Ruby suddenly perked up, and let Violet’s hand go. Violet quickly jerked it behind her. Ruby didn’t notice. “Mei’s here?” she asked. “Where? When did she come in?”
“Just now. She’s downstairs. Her and the colored boy.”
“Ooh.” Ruby suddenly fluffed her hair and turned back into her room. “Heavens sakes. Warn a girl, won’t you, Jimmy? I gotta put my face on.” With that, Ruby shut the door.
“You’ll have to forgive that one,” said Jim. “Bit wild, but she brings in good money.”
“D-does she…” Violet shook off the static feeling on her skin. “She seemed to know Mei…She ain’t the one—is she?”
Jim didn’t answer. Instead, he opened the door to the bathroom and stood aside. It was a small area. Barely big enough for two or three people to be comfortable, but it was private. Two copper tubs stood on four claws each, with tall, narrow spouts at their heads. “See that closet there?” He gestured to a small boudoir to the right. “Towels inside there. Some soaps, too. You just turn this…” He went to the spigot and turned the knob. The pipe rattled loudly, shaking as water struggled to tumble outwards. When it finally did, it bubbled into the tub much like the sluggish stream Violet saw on her way in. It steamed ferociously, Violet able to feel the heat from where she stood at the door. “I’ll leave you to it then. Enjoy.” With that, Jim left the room and closed the door behind him.
Violet watched the tub slowly fill with growing anticipation. Despite its obvious heat, she wanted nothing more than to jump in feet first. Instead, she went to the wardrobe and rifled through the supplies. The towels were dingy and worn out in some places, some of them cut from flower sacks. She thumbed through the stack until finding the best of the lot and set it aside. To the left of the towels were all kinds of jars of different sizes. Tooth powder, a jar of lye flowers, rosemary, wax soap, powdered shampoo, and a jar that smelled of strong vinegar.
First, Violet took the tooth powder and scooped some water from the faucet with an empty bowl. She sat herself on a small stool beside the tub and spread it over her teeth with her finger. The grit gnashed against her mouth in an oddly satisfying way, though the chalky aftertaste left her with a cough. She rinsed out her mouth and spat into the chamber pot in the corner. Violet then took a handful of the lye and stuck her fist into the hot bath water. Ignoring the sting for now, Violet rubbed her hands together quickly, creating a froth that bubbled up onto the water’s surface.
Finally, the tub was ready. Violet drew the lace curtains partly closed (but left enough space for light) and disrobed. The heat from the water left her with no chill to speak of. With a gleeful grin, she bunched up her hair and tiptoed her way inside. It certainly was hot, but Violet liked it. She sunk carefully into the steaming, sudsy water until finally, she was sitting up to her shoulders.
Violet let out a long, satisfied sigh, her entire body melting. The hot water dug into her skin, and her muscles loosened the tense knots they’d been clinging to for weeks now. Her aching feet were swept with relief. Already she could feel the grime of the open road start to peel from her skin. Once she’d had her moment to relax, Violet began to scrub. As the dirt was wiped off, Violet saw just how dusty she’d become. All this red, I might as well be Indian, she thought.
She’d only been in the bath for a few minutes when there was a knock at the door. “Might I come in?” It was a woman’s voice.
“You may,” Violet replied.
Ruby opened the door, closing it behind her quickly. She was dressed properly now, though her loose, devilish curls were still unkempt. In her arm was tucked a bundle of fabric Violet could not yet identify. She smiled, her lips re-painted for the day. “Enjoying your bath, Miss?”
“Yes’m,” Violet replied.
“Jimmy said earlier that you came in with Mei, is that right?”
“Yes’m.”
Ruby’s smile widened. “Isn’t there anything else you can say?”
Violet tucked her knees under her chin. “How’d you know Mei?”
“Well, that’s a bit of a story,” Ruby replied. “But the short version is pretty simple. She came in as a customer, she and her posse had skills we needed. We’ve since…ah-hem…exchanged services on occasion.”
Violet’s neck went hot. She doubted it was from the water. “What’s that?” Violet gestured towards Ruby’s fabric, desperately trying to change the subject. Ruby followed her eyes.
“Oh, this?” Ruby unraveled it, revealing a freshly laundered dress. It was clearly worn, but well-kept and modest. Ruby smiled. “Any friend of Mei’s is a friend of mine.” She folded it back up and set it on the stool beside Violet’s tub. “Figured you might want something clean to change into.” Her eyes lingered on Violet’s pile of dirty traveling clothes. “We can get those washed if you like. No charge.”
“That’s…that’s awfully kind of you, but I can wash ‘em myself.”
Ruby hesitated, but her smile never fell. “As you like it, Miss. Come on down when you’re finished and we’ll fix you up.” Ruby left Violet to enjoy the rest of her bath. Violet could feel the water growing cold.
It was nearly an hour since following Jim to the bathroom when Violet returned downstairs. The dress Ruby lent her fit surprisingly well. After days of wearing the same, dusty clothes, the clean cotton was a blessing. Violet caught her reflection in the mirror and wondered if she’d misjudged Ruby. She was clearly a good soul, and an ally of the Railwalkers. But Violet couldn’t help the unease around her. She recalled something her parson said when she was younger: “Accept the kindness of all strangers, but do so with caution. For even the devil himself was once an angel.”
Walking down, she saw that the sun was sinking lower beyond the saloon’s dirty window. Mei and Linus were sitting at a corner of the bar, speaking lowly to three women. One Violet recognized as Ruby, and all three were turned away from the staircase. The woman on the left had springy, blonde curls rivaling the gold of Mary Humphrey’s hair. The other was draped in a gentle, blue shawl, hiding her face and hair from the world. Rory was sitting at the opposite end of the bar, now enjoying a pickle twice the size of his face.
Mei glanced up as Violet approached, but said nothing to announce her presence. The closer Violet got, the clearer the conversation became.
“How did you do it?” the blonde woman asked. “Shot him? Strung him up?”
“Knife,” Mei replied. She tapped her throat, indicating where she had used it. Violet shook to a halt. They were talking about the murder of Mr. Munts. Violet’s boots were glued to the ground, her dirty clothes bundled tightly in her arms.
“Did he suffer?” the blonde asked again. Mei shook her head. Surprisingly, the woman sneered and leaned back on her stool, her elbow on the bar. “I was hoping you’d finish him off slow like. Really make him feel it.”
“Didn’t have the time,” Mei replied. “I barely got in and out of there before the whole town started howling.” Violet recalled that night in vivid detail. How terrified she felt, and how frantic she was running for help. She wondered why Mei had not told them about her involvement in the assassination. Truthfully, she was thankful for it.
Linus spotted Violet. He motioned her to sit on the stool behind him. Violet did so, wordlessly. Now facing the women, she got a good look at their expressions. Ruby was far more serious than she’d been an hour before. Her arms were folded on the bar, her red brows drawn above her tiny nose. The blonde woman, by contrast, had a pronounced, square nose and jaw, with a spindle, swan-like neck and shoulders. And the third—the woman with the scarf—had a face Violet was not expecting.
She had dark brown curls that were tucked haphazardly under her shawl. Her face was heart-shaped, and innocent looking. Judging by her big doe eyes, she barely looked a year past sixteen. And all along her soft skin were hideous, painful scars, less than a year old. They ran up and down her supple cheeks and gentle features. Tracing one scar, Violet could tell that whoever attacked her might have taken her nose clean off with a few more inches of pressure. One of her eyelids did not close properly, and Violet spotted the deep nick that ran down the middle of it and up through her eyebrow. Violet was also quick to realize one other detail: no animal was so clean. These cuts were made by a man.
The minute the girl noticed that Violet was watching her, she pulled her shawl up tighter and turned her head away. The others cast their eyes on Violet, but Violet barely noticed. She stared at the girl in the scarf, her mouth parting ever so slightly in horror. She hadn’t even realized that hot tears had clouded her vision.
“Did…did he do that?” Violet whispered.
Ruby and Mei glanced at one another, but it was Linus who answered her. He laid a hand on Violet’s shoulder, finally breaking her gaze. “Yes,” he answered solemnly. “He did.”
“You knew him?” the blonde asked. Her eyes were fierce. “He hurt you, too?”
Violet remembered Munts’ death. She remembered him grabbing for her. Ripping her dress, cursing her. She remembered how terrified she was, how helpless she felt. And then she remembered Mary…Violet’s head lowered and she shook it “no.” “Not me,” she said. “But…but a friend. He…He didn’t cut her up or nothin’ but he—”
“This is Violet,” Mei interjected. “She was from his town. Somehow or another, the damned lawman there got it in his head that she was the one who killed him. We figured she’d be safe here.”
“Of course,” Ruby agreed. She smiled at Violet with kindness. “Don’t you worry, honey. We’ll take right good care of you here.”
Suddenly, Violet was afraid for a whole new reason. Take care of her? Here? “I…” She looked to the Railwalkers helplessly. “I don’t wanna be no whore—!” she blurted out.
Ruby and the blonde noticeably soured and pulled back. Mei cleared her throat. “She’s a bit of a sheltered lamb, this one.”
“Hmph,” Ruby snarked.
“You ain’t gonna be no whore,” Linus explained to her. “But the saloon here could use a maid. Just a little cleanin’, that’s all you’d do. Wash the windows, sweep the floors. You’d get food and a bed and pay. It’s the best out of a bad situation.”
Violet settled down after that, but was still visibly shaken. But Linus was right; this was the best any of them could do. Hands in her lap, she nodded. “I understand. Thank you.”
Ruby dug into the pocket of her coat and laid an envelope on the bar. Mei slid it toward her and opened the flap, peeking inside. Violet’s eyes went wide when she saw the thick stack of notes inside. “That should be everything,” Ruby said. “Took us a couple of months to save properly.”
Mei handed the envelope to Linus, who tucked it into his inner vest pocket. “I trust you,” said Mei. “Now.” She knocked on the bar, and Jim slumped over to where they sat. “Whiskeys all around, Jimmy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As Jim began to pour their shots, the girl with the scarf left the bar. Violet watched her shuffle off to the stairway. Her heart bleeding, Violet stood to follow her, when Mei gently touched Violet’s wrist.
“Leave her,” said Mei. “She’s been in enough pain.”
“What is her name? How old is she?”
The blonde sighed deeply. “Beatrice is fifteen years old. Munts attacked her last May.”
Violet’s face fell dramatically. “Fifteen…” she breathed. “Fifteen and she’s a—”
“Family died of sickness when she was nine,” Ruby interjected. “Older brother went mad with drink, beat her until she finally took off. We got hold of her a couple years ago. Paid her to wash pots and scrub floors.” Her eyes shot up to Violet in a sharp jerk. “One day, she said wanted to make enough money to get to California. That meant tradin’ up to our line of work. It was her choice, hers alone.”
“She’s a child.”
“Think we didn’t know that?” the blonde barked back. “But she’s stubborn, that one. We knew that if we didn’t keep our eyes on her here, she’d find another place. Probably end up dead in the process. So we kept her here, and sorted through which ones she’d service and which ones she didn’t. Munts waltzed in one day, wanted her time. We all said no. I could tell in my bones he was trouble. So he broke into her bedroom and cut her up. But what sheriff would defend the honor of a poor little teenage whore?” She took her shot and downed it. “I hope the bastard rots in Hell.”
There was a deafening silence between them. It took a moment before Violet realized that Jimmy had poured a shot for her as well. Drowning in horror and sadness, Violet grabbed it without thinking and threw it back. It went down harsh, stinging the back of her throat like fire. Her eyes watered, but she forced it to stay. When Violet came up for air, she saw Mei suddenly smiling at her. Leaning forward, Mei tapped the bar top again.
“Another one here, Jimmy.”
The mood lightened considerably after that. Ruby and Barbara (the blonde woman) made a big to-do about Munts’s death, deciding to celebrate the occasion. As day turned to night, the gaslights went on, patrons stumbled in, and soon, the world was full of noise and pleasure. After the first shot of whiskey, Violet found that the next ones to come weren’t that difficult to swallow. Her head was lighter than it’d ever been before. Her body was warm and comfortable, and her smile was easier than it’d been in a long time. Someone dusted off the piano and filled the air with music. The girls sprang up like springtime daisies, leading patrons up the stairs, sometimes two or three at a time. As the night unfolded, Violet saw things through a giddy blur. At one point, Violet even danced to the tinny sound of the ivory keys. Throughout the night, she had shot after shot of whiskey, making her feel as light as a feather. In that evening, it was as though her troubles were long forgotten.
“Pardon me, Miss.” A gravelly voice caught Violet’s attention. She spun around, wobbling where she stood. The speaker was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark features. He smiled at her and held out his hand. “Care to dance?”
Dance? Violet loved dancing. Didn’t she just dance a moment ago? With a wide smile plastered over her face, she took his hand and followed him into the center of the saloon. He spun, twirled, and sashayed her back and forth. Violet laughed freely, her long hair bouncing around her face in wavy tufts. The man’s wide hand rested on her lower back, pulling her in close. “How much for an hour, darlin’?”
An hour? Of what, dancing? Violet narrowed her eyes, unable to fully grasp the question. “How much…? Free, I guess.”
The man’s eyes lit up delightfully. “Free? Well, ain’t that fine? I’ll have to take you up on that offer, miss.” A hand slithered down Violet’s back and rested on her posterior. Violet’s mind was slow to comprehend the situation, but before she could put her thoughts right way around, the man had brought her in dreadfully close, his rancid breath against her nape. “Most workin’ girls don’t give up nothin’ worth more’n a nickel out here…”
“Workin’…” Violet slurred and squirmed in his arms. “Workin’ girl…” Her face screwed tightly and she tried to weasel her way out of his arms. His grip was tight though, and he laughed gleefully at her struggle.
“What, you playin’ with me, girly? Wanna keep dancin’ first?”
“Offame—!”
“Offa what?”
First thing you want to do is aim for the nose.
With as much strength as Violet could muster, she thrust her palm upwards. It missed his nose entirely, but her hand connected square with his left eye. His head snapped back and he let go of Violet immediately. Violet tumbled away, nearly falling over. The man clutched his eye, shaken by Violet’s strike. “Why you lil’—” He surged forward, and Violet acted again.
If you can’t reach his nose, aim for his throat…
Violet launched her fist wildly forward. This time, she made contact with her target. The man sputtered and stumbled backwards a few feet, clutching his neck. Violet’s wrist was now sore with the aftershock, but Violet barely felt it. Despite both attacks, the man began shuffling forward again. Even with Violet’s blurred vision, she saw the absolute anger in his face.
…or you take your knee and wham.
Violet launched her knee up so fast, it knocked them both off balance. Her leg made contact, and the man let out a high pitched squeal. His eyes crossed, and his face went red as a fresh turnip. With one long, flimsy breath, he crumbled to the floor, curled into a ball. Violet, who had grabbed a table to keep herself from falling, looked around to gain her bearings. Just about everyone had stopped to see the commotion.
“Violet.”
From the foggy haze of Violet’s vision, Mei walked forward. Her hands held Violet’s shoulders, keeping her upright. Mei looked between the two of them. “Well…I think that about wraps it for you, girly. Let’s get you upstairs…”
But Violet stayed still for a moment. Cemented to the spot, she felt a strange wave overcome her. Color drained from her face as a vicious taste welled up her throat. Without any warning, Violet turned and tossed up every ounce of whiskey she’d had that night. From the floor, the man let out a scream and scrambled away, his shirt now covered in vomit. There were quite a few laughs around the room. Mei was not one of them.
“All right. Up you get. Let’s go.” With Mei’s gentle cajoling, Violet found herself on the top floor, swaying as if she were on a ship. She’d only ever been on river boats before, but recognized the bobbing sensation. If she wasn’t careful, she’d heave again, though she doubted if there was anything left. Mei walked her into an empty room and sat her on the bed. From that point on, images blurred in and out, like a fading dream. She felt her body pushed this way and that, felt a wet cloth on her lips and chin. She felt water slipping into her mouth, and her boots pulled from her sweating feet. Finally, the world rose up to greet her as she was tucked into a warm, comfortable bed.
* * * *
Violet woke up in a sharp, cold sweat. The entire world was pitch black, and she was completely unaware where she was or how she came to be there. Violet glanced at a cracked window of her room. The stars weren’t even out at this time; it must have been very early. Everything in her body ached, and she wanted nothing more than to fade back into sleep, but her bladder throbbed in protest. After forcing herself out of bed and using the chamber pot provided, she planned to roll into the covers and sleep until noon the next day. Before she could fulfill this wish, the sound of gentle giggling drew her away. Violet hesitated; whoever was enjoying themselves probably didn’t need someone listening in. But then she heard, very distinctly:
“Mm, Mei, don’t nibble at me too hard now…”
Violet felt like lightning struck her senseless. The giggling continued. She entertained the idea that should she roll into bed, she might be able to forget what she’d heard and write it off as a dream. However, in spite of her throbbing head and heavy body, she suddenly felt wide awake. Tempted by sin itself, Violet quietly moved to the door and held her ear against it. The laughter was coming from across the hall.
Violet gently opened her door and poked her head out into the hallway. One or two gas lamps were still lit, but slowly dwindling. Silent as a mouse, she flattened against the wall beside a slightly cracked door. Inside, she could see the orange of the burning wicks flicker against the walls. Bits of clothes were strewn about the floor like leaves. And faded in the amber light were two shadows, ever morphing and changing shape. Violet dared to slink closer, and eventually put her eye to the crack at the door.
Mei was on the bed, wearing only unbuttoned pants, suspenders flopped to either side. Ruby, completely naked, sat square in her lap. Their bosoms were flush together, Mei’s arms wrapped around Ruby like ivy. Harsh shadows contoured the muscles in those arms. Violet followed their trail with her gaze, noticing the way the tendons stretched and jumped with every movement. And Ruby, willowy and delicate, nested in Mei’s grasp like a jigsaw piece. Mei kissed Ruby’s shoulder, her long fingers clutching the supple skin of her rear end. It formed between Mei’s knuckles like rising bread. In a sudden, bizarre act, Mei actually slapped her behind. Violet jerked, shocked at the spanking, but Ruby didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it looked like she enjoyed it.
They kissed intimately. Mei’s hand went to Ruby’s red curls, and twirled her fingers deep within Ruby’s hair. Violet had seen and had plenty of kisses. None were so fearsome, so hungry. Violet’s throat was totally dry, no matter how many times she tried to wet it. Her knees knocked together beneath her dress, and her breath was sporadic and uneven. The firelight licked their naked bodies, as a painter’s brush would sway against its colors. A part of Violet knew that what she was seeing was undoubtedly wrong, yet she could not look away. Another, growing part of her did not want to look away. No…she wanted to join.
This thought scared Violet back into reality. Quietly as she came, Violet spun around and headed back into her room. Violet kept wide awake for the rest of the night, and stared at the window while she waited for the sun to slowly rise. At some point, Violet had closed her eyes and fallen into a dreamless slumber, but as soon as she had fallen asleep, she was shaken awake. Blinking, she looked around the room to find Rory staring at her. “Mornin’, Missus.”
“Good morning, Rory.” Violet sat up and rubbed her eyes. Before she could say anything else, Rory had launched himself into her bed and hugged her tightly around the middle. Violet blinked. “What’s this for?”
“What?” Rory looked up, his big eyes tearful. “I’m sayin’ goodbye. Ain’t you gonna come down and say goodbye to the rest?”
Goodbye? Violet looked to the bedside table. A small stack of bills and a simple revolver were neatly tucked away for her. Her heart sank miles. This would be the last day Violet would likely ever see the Railwalkers again. Violet brought Rory into a tight hug.
After she made herself presentable, Violet came down. The saloon had quieted considerably since the night before. Violet could see stains where her mess had been cleaned up to the best of its ability. Shamefully, Violet looked over to Jim, who was cleaning glasses behind the counter.
“Sorry about last night…”
Jim shrugged it off. “Ol’ Herb probably needed a lesson like that. Don’t you fret. Ain’t the worst thing I had to clean here.”
“Violet.” She turned to see Mei and Linus with plates of fresh biscuits and gravy. Linus pulled a seat out for her and she took it. A great hunger like never before overtook her and she dug into her breakfast like a mad beast. Linus chuckled. “You sure had a good night,” he remarked.
“I guess…It’s all a blur, really.” Violet wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her dress.
Mei grinned, chin in hand. “I’m mighty proud of you, you know. Used what I learned ya real quick. Why, give it enough time and practice and you could be one hell of a brawler.”
“Me?” Violet certainly remembered hitting someone. Her wrist was still sore.
“I’d sure say so,” Mei confirmed, nodding. “Might come in handy these days. Never know when you’ll need to kick up a row and skedaddle.”
Violet picked at her biscuits and gravy. “Don’t I need somebody to teach me?” she asked quietly.
Mei drank her coffee. “S’pose there’ll be someone ‘round here who could teach you. Ask Ruby; she’s one tough gal.”
Violet frowned immediately. “I don’t think I can learn much from her.”
Linus’s brows climbed his forehead. “Oh? What’s this harsh tone of yours so early in the morning? I thought sour Violet was all said and done.”
Violet opened her mouth to defend herself, but so many conflicting thoughts fought their way forward. “I just don’t see how much she can really teach me. She ain’t like any of you.”
“Now just hold up here.” Mei leaned forward, arms folded on the table. “A deal’s a deal. We ain’t stayin’ in some little dirt ball the rest of the summer just to teach you how to punch.”
“That’s not what I’m sayin’.”
“Oh really? Then what are you sayin’?”
“I’m sayin’—I’m sayin’—” Violet gripped her utensils tight. Her next words came out as suddenly as last night’s puke. “I’m sayin’ if I’m ever gonna survive out here, I can’t learn from nobody but someone like you. You’ve survived years, decades even. You’ve escaped the law countless times, you have connections to stay alive. You leave me now and I’m lost in the wind. How long until Sheriff Anderson comes crawlin’ over this place? A month? A year? Well, I got no doubt in my mind that no matter where you drop me, I’m about as good as dead. No little pea shooter is gonna protect me from armed marshals.
“I’m sayin’…that I want to come with you.”