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"You're a cheating, lowdown, double-crossing, lily-livered bitch...." His hand hovered above his six-gun. "Brodie." Millain's voice halted her in her tracks. So.She sighed and turned to face him. His head jerked up and he stared at her.
"Hey, hey! What's all this?" came Zee's voice. "The social can't have been that bad." "Zee," called Christie, keep her voice low so as not to wake the sleeping girl. "She tore them up?" The six other people in the room were all giving her odd looks, she realised.
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Then there had been the scuffle outside the Wells Fargo Office.... The mare was waiting patiently for her at the shady hitching post outside the jail. She tucked the burlap sack into a saddlebag and patted the horse's neck.
"No call to treat me that way, Deputy. I'm within my rights." Disgustedly, he kicked a wooden crate that lay on the ground next to the stage, and she heard the tinkling of broken glass. A crowd of passengers and passers-by had gathered next to the stage. She broke into a run as she realised that they were watching two men fight. Adah Riker stepped back and began to close the door.
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The Old Barn came into sight, and impulsively she kicked the mare into a gallop. Soon she was pounding up the track alongside the house, jumping the back gate (she hoped Christie wouldn't yell at her for risking the mare so foolishly), and pulling up in the back yard. The horse whinnied indignantly and tossed her head. She'd assess the gambler herself this afternoon, she decided, as she cantered past McGillivray's, where a loud hammering indicated the undertaker was hard at work. Americus Millain might be an honest cardplayer, he might also be the biggest cardsharp this side of the Mississippi.
"Drew on me," explained the dark-haired woman, her tone unconcerned. "Got lucky and nicked me too." She indicated the red bandanna wrapped around her biceps, which Christie had been wondering about. "Hey, Darlin'. Something sure smells good." Two strides brought the deputy to Christie's side, then she was in the tall woman's arms. She was returning the kiss enthusiastically, when something caught the corner of her eye. She shook her head and stood up, taking a third of the money for herself then pushing the rest towards a startled Silas and Bob. "Split that between you." She tucked the guardianship papers in her pocket.
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"But Zee is more than capable of taking care of all the things that need doing around the place. She's strong and she's very good with her hands." Maybe it would be cheaper for Zee to make the tables herself, she mused. The raven-haired woman was good at carpentry and they had spent an awful lot of Zee's savings on the house already. Though the deputy had said she'd have no difficulty providing Christie with the weekly allowance she'd asked for, they would still have to be careful. It was up to Christie to be frugal and make economies where she could. Whatever the previous occupant had believed, it certainly wasn't that cleanliness is next to godliness.
Bob was sitting to the left of the dealer, so it fell to him to open the betting. When everyone had their cards , Millain placed the remainder of the deck in the middle of the table and reached for his own cards. "Howdy, Brodie," said Bob Lewis, mopping his forehead with a kerchief.
While Bob dealt the cards, she pushed back her hat and leaned back in her chair. Surreptitiously, she gave Millain the once over. Silas and Bob exchanged a wry look - this morning's killing of Polly had not endeared the New Orleans gambler to anyone - then they shrugged. "She'll love it. And what better way to introduce the two of you into more respectable circles? It can only do Zee's standing in Benson good."
A smirking Millain, meanwhile, was raking in the contents of the pot. Kitty Lee, one of the Golden Slipper's hostesses, came over and fluttered her long eyelashes at Zee. When the deputy politely but firmly declined her invitation to buy some house champagne and go upstairs with her, Kitty shook her head sadly, making her ringlets dance, but left her in peace. Zee looped the mare's reins over the rail outside The Golden Slipper and pushed her way through the swing doors. The chatter, laughter, and clink of glasses stopped abruptly.
Clouds of dust billowed up all around her and set her coughing. She laid aside the broom, ran upstairs, and helped herself to one of Zee's red bandannas, then stared wryly at her reflection in the mirror. The mask over her nose and mouth made her look rather rakish, she decided.
She had discovered (with mixed feelings - they felt wonderful on the skin but were hard to launder) that the satin sheets were only on loan from the brothel too. After that, she made some more lemonade, then found a scrap of paper and stub of pencil and sat down to make a list of all the things they would need in order to turn this house into a home. A story that follows a family of four leading harmonious and contented lives. When a mysterious visitor starts residing in their basement, their lives are turned upside down as strange events begin to occur. Still shaking her head at the silver miner's antics, Zee made her way out of the crowded room. Outside the Golden Slipper, she paused beside her mare and glanced up the street.
"It's fine." Christie relaxed against her, and Zee gave in to the urge to press her lips against blonde hair. "Anyway, making this place spick-and-span will give me something to do while you're at work." Zee brought the buckboard to a halt beside them. "Hands off, Hogan. She's spoken for." Though I researched the period and place in which this story is set, I have taken extensive liberties with both.
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Hogan had noted that Millain had a pretty little octoroon in tow; Zee was curious to see her too. She didn't remember walking back to the Old Barn, but somehow she found herself back in her own kitchen. She tore off her bonnet, hung it up, then pulled out a chair and sat down. Leaning one elbow on the table, she rested her chin in her palm, and stared blankly at the wall. If everyone felt as the Rikers did, her dreams for a normal life with Zee were only so much smoke and mirrors....
Were those voices she could hear, and the rumble of a buckboard fading into the distance? She straightened her apron and turned just as the kitchen door was flung open and Zee filled the doorway. "My missus won’t let me take another woman home, 'specially a young and pretty one." A burst of laughter greeted his remark. Zee considered and discarded possibilities. It would be tough to pull off in a single hand, but if she played her cards right, this could solve the girl's problems at a stroke. "Guess that's you out of the game, Millain."
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