without another word.
Aislinn led Liza Sue up the rear stairs and showed her the small dormitory, where there were two empty cots to choose from. The newcomer selected the one nearest the window and stood with her hand resting reverently on the plain iron bedstead, as though it were something grand. When she looked at Aislinn, there were tears shimmering in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t have believed it was possible,” she said, in a small, tremulous voice. “I thought she’d see right through me, and show me the door.”
She saw right through the both of us , Aislinn thought, still mystified. “Eugenie is like a mother hen—she’ll squawk and flap her wings now and then, but heaven help the rooster who tries to get to one of her chicks. And Liza Sue, she means what she says about following the rules—a few months ago a girl stayed out all night after a town picnic, and Eugenie bought her a stagecoach ticket home and sent her packing. No amount of crying and begging would change her mind about it.”
Liza Sue wiped her cheeks with the back of one hand. “I won’t do nothing to ruin my chance,” she vowed. “I mean to work like nobody she’s ever seen, save my money, and get a new start someplace far away from here.”
Aislinn had dreams of her own, and they centered around bringing her brothers out from Maine before winter came to the far West, and making a home out of a tumbledown cabin and a few acres of good land. If Thomas and Mark did odd jobs around town, and she kepther position with the hotel until spring, when they could put in a garden, they might just make it. She certainly understood Liza Sue’s determination and high hopes, and she respected her desire to make a decent life for herself. “You’d best go and find Eugenie,” she said. “She’ll have a list of things for you to do.”
“One of my girls is missin’,” Jake Kingston bellowed, breathing sour whiskey fumes in Shay’s face. “She was a good’un and I want her back!” The interior of the Yellow Garter was dim, the air flecked with dust particles and clouded with stale smoke. The sawdust on the floor was in sorry need of a rake, and a few women had wandered downstairs, half-dressed, hair askew, eyes full of brass and sadness. The poker game in the far corner had been going on since sometime yesterday afternoon and showed no signs of winding down.
Shay rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he could have spent so much time in a place like this; it was like the colon of hell. Silently, he wished the missing woman Godspeed. “There’s no law against taking to your heels, Jake,” he said reasonably.
Jake set a bottle and a glass on the bar; Shay ignored them. He was watching the murky mirror behind the bartender’s broad back, remembering the night Big Dan was knifed between the shoulder blades. Dan had gotten careless. “You gotta find her,” Jake whispered the words, and he sounded desperate.
“You’ve had girls light out before. What’s so special about this one?”
Jake wet his fat lips with an even fatter tongue. He was sweating, and his deer-colored hair was stuck to his square head like a threadbare cap. “She was Billy Kyle’s favorite, damn it. He comes back and finds out she’s gone, he’ll put a bullet ’tween my eyes!”
Shay sighed. Billy was the only son of the richestrancher within a hundred miles of Prominence, a mean-eyed, pimply little prick with a bowie knife, a penchant for cheap whiskey, and a poor outlook on life. He wouldn’t be a bit above shooting Jake Kingston, which only went to prove that everybody had at least one redeeming quality, if you just looked for it hard enough. “You let me know if you have any trouble with Billy,” he said, “and I’ll take a razor strop to him.”
Jake missed the irony. His Adam’s apple bulged like a hard-boiled egg when he swallowed. “How’m I supposed to do that, if he shoots me in the head? I’m tellin’ you, she was his favorite , and he
Aislinn led Liza Sue up the rear stairs and showed her the small dormitory, where there were two empty cots to choose from. The newcomer selected the one nearest the window and stood with her hand resting reverently on the plain iron bedstead, as though it were something grand. When she looked at Aislinn, there were tears shimmering in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t have believed it was possible,” she said, in a small, tremulous voice. “I thought she’d see right through me, and show me the door.”
She saw right through the both of us , Aislinn thought, still mystified. “Eugenie is like a mother hen—she’ll squawk and flap her wings now and then, but heaven help the rooster who tries to get to one of her chicks. And Liza Sue, she means what she says about following the rules—a few months ago a girl stayed out all night after a town picnic, and Eugenie bought her a stagecoach ticket home and sent her packing. No amount of crying and begging would change her mind about it.”
Liza Sue wiped her cheeks with the back of one hand. “I won’t do nothing to ruin my chance,” she vowed. “I mean to work like nobody she’s ever seen, save my money, and get a new start someplace far away from here.”
Aislinn had dreams of her own, and they centered around bringing her brothers out from Maine before winter came to the far West, and making a home out of a tumbledown cabin and a few acres of good land. If Thomas and Mark did odd jobs around town, and she kepther position with the hotel until spring, when they could put in a garden, they might just make it. She certainly understood Liza Sue’s determination and high hopes, and she respected her desire to make a decent life for herself. “You’d best go and find Eugenie,” she said. “She’ll have a list of things for you to do.”
“One of my girls is missin’,” Jake Kingston bellowed, breathing sour whiskey fumes in Shay’s face. “She was a good’un and I want her back!” The interior of the Yellow Garter was dim, the air flecked with dust particles and clouded with stale smoke. The sawdust on the floor was in sorry need of a rake, and a few women had wandered downstairs, half-dressed, hair askew, eyes full of brass and sadness. The poker game in the far corner had been going on since sometime yesterday afternoon and showed no signs of winding down.
Shay rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he could have spent so much time in a place like this; it was like the colon of hell. Silently, he wished the missing woman Godspeed. “There’s no law against taking to your heels, Jake,” he said reasonably.
Jake set a bottle and a glass on the bar; Shay ignored them. He was watching the murky mirror behind the bartender’s broad back, remembering the night Big Dan was knifed between the shoulder blades. Dan had gotten careless. “You gotta find her,” Jake whispered the words, and he sounded desperate.
“You’ve had girls light out before. What’s so special about this one?”
Jake wet his fat lips with an even fatter tongue. He was sweating, and his deer-colored hair was stuck to his square head like a threadbare cap. “She was Billy Kyle’s favorite, damn it. He comes back and finds out she’s gone, he’ll put a bullet ’tween my eyes!”
Shay sighed. Billy was the only son of the richestrancher within a hundred miles of Prominence, a mean-eyed, pimply little prick with a bowie knife, a penchant for cheap whiskey, and a poor outlook on life. He wouldn’t be a bit above shooting Jake Kingston, which only went to prove that everybody had at least one redeeming quality, if you just looked for it hard enough. “You let me know if you have any trouble with Billy,” he said, “and I’ll take a razor strop to him.”
Jake missed the irony. His Adam’s apple bulged like a hard-boiled egg when he swallowed. “How’m I supposed to do that, if he shoots me in the head? I’m tellin’ you, she was his favorite , and he
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