Vendetta Trail by Robert Vaughan

callers were upstairs with the girls. There was one man sitting on the sofa with Clarisse. Clarisse got up and walked over to meet him when Hawke came in.
    “How was the concert?” she asked.
    “It was very nice,” Hawke replied. “I appreciate you allowing me the time off.”
    “Nonsense,” Clarisse replied. “I figure every day you remain here is a bonus, and if I can keep you here a bit longer by giving you time off when you ask for it, I am more than willing to do what I can to make your time here happy.”
    “Are you entertaining customers now?” Hawke teased, nodding toward the man on the sofa.
    “Yes, but only those with the most discriminating tastes,” Clarisse said, laughing.
    Hawke went over to the piano and sat down.
    “You don’t have to work tonight, Mason,” Clarisse said.
    “This isn’t for work, this is for me,” Hawke said as he began playing ‘Bach’s Fugue in G.’
     
    The next day one of the girls who worked at the House of the Evening Star was preparing to go downstairs for the evening rush of business. Looking into the mirror, she used a small brush and a rouge pot to add a bit of color to her cheeks.
    Rachel was quite pretty, with high cheekbones, full eyelashes, a small turned-up nose, and blonde ringlets that cascaded down either side of her face. Her broad smile showed even white teeth.
    She had just about finished when there was a quiet knock on her door.
    “Miz Rachel?” someone called. “Miz Rachel, you be in there?”
    When Rachel opened the door, she was greeted by Doney, the black maid, who handed her a letter.
    “This here letter just come and Miz Clarisse said give it to you.”
    “Thanks, Doney,” Rachel said, taking the letter. “Is it getting crowded down there yet?”
    “I ain’t looked down there none, but I spec there’s quite a few menfolks here already.”
    “I’d better get down there then. If anyone asks about me, tell them I’ll be down directly.”
    “Yes’m, I do that,” Doney said.
    Rachel shut the door, then looked at the envelope. The letter was from Bellefont, Kansas, and she smiled. This would be a letter from Louise Smalley. Louise used to work here, until she got married.
    Rachel debated whether she should read it now, or put it aside and go downstairs. The debate didn’t last long, nor was the issue ever seriously in doubt. She sat at her dresser and opened the envelope.
    Dear Rachel,
    Your letter of the 5th at hand, I take pen to paper and answer in the hope that this finds you and all the other girls there are a doing fine.
    I know you and all the other girls thought I was crazy to marry someone I had never met before he come into the whorehouse that first time. But marrying Eddie Smalley is the best thing that ever happened to me.
    All of Eddie’s friends were really surprised when he returned from New Orleans with a wife, and now everyone wants to know how we met. Eddie tells them I was the preacher’s daughter—and we met in church.
    That works, because as you may remember, I really was a preacher’s daughter before I went on the line. Of course my father died long before that happened, which is good, because I don’t think I could have faced him if he knew what I became.
    You know what they call whores here in Bellefonte? They call them soiled doves. Isn’t that a nice name for them? The town is so small that there are only two, and I’ve met both of them.
    I told one of them, Maggie, what I was and she has been very good about keeping it secret.
    Rachel, there is a gambling house here called the Queen of Hearts. I have heard that it is for sale. If you have managed to save any money, I think this would be a very good buy for you. I think you would like it here. It’s a lot different from New Orleans, but you would get a fresh start.

    Your friend,
    Louise
    Rachel smiled at Louise’s letter, then added it to the packet of letters she had already received from her. Louise was the only one Rachel ever got mail from, and