Jolene White
The door closed and Jolene lay back on her bed with some relief. She had thought about getting the chamber pot from under the bed but the urge to puke was easing. With some deep breaths, she gave herself a moment to recover from the pounding she had just endured.
What had started off as a dislike of Dwayne Alderman had developed into a fully-fledged hatred. For a fat man he was surprisingly full of beans. Jolene felt some sympathy for his dear departed wife.
Jolene got off of the bed and went over to her dresser. There was a bowl of water she used to freshen up. She used a flannel to wipe up Dwayne’s mess. A true sense of cleanliness would not return until after she had had a bath.
She turned back to get dressed when she was startled by the presence of a well-dressed gentleman. He wore a well-tailored pin-strip suit with a top hat, a cravat and he had a cane in left his hand. His smile, framed in a black goatee and moustache, was warm. “Good evening,” he said, raising his hat. His softly spoken voice was silky smooth but carried confidence and authority. “Do not be alarmed. Ah how charming, a woman of your profession covers herself. For the exchange of the right amount of currency, a man is able to see what he likes of your nakedness. Is that not so?”
“I’m sorry,” said Jolene, “you startled me, I didn’t hear you come in. I would normally meet you downstairs before...” she dropped her hands, making no attempt to mask her dejection.
The stranger laughed. “No, no, no, no, no, no. I must apologise. Forgive my tease. It would be more accurate to think of you as the customer.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jolene, using her hands to cover herself again.
“If it makes you more comfortable, please feel free to don your clothing.”
“Just because I sell my body to make a living doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to some dignity.” With anger surging, Jolene had developed an early dislike of this stranger.
“Please accept my heartfelt apologies,” said the stranger as she disappeared with her clothes behind her dressing screen, “I am not… from these parts.”
“Well all right,” she said pulling on her French knickers, “but we do provide an important service to the community.” She wondered if she was trying to convince the stranger or herself as she picked up her camisole.
“Of course you do, of course, you do,” he said, “are you done yet? I much prefer speaking to you directly rather than to a screen.”
Jolene popped her head round. “Just putting on my dress and I’ll be right with you.”
Before long Jolene re-emerged. Without invitation, the stranger had sat down on her chaise longue.
“Done now?”
“Erm no, not quite,” said Jolene, “but I can put my tights on later. You’re not going to make me get undressed now, are you?”
“No, no. That is a good quality dress. Few women hereabouts could afford such a garment. It must be some consolation that you can afford such things.”
Jolene gritted her teeth but said nothing.
“Let’s get down to business,” he said, “perhaps you would like to join me?” He patted the vacant seat next to him.
“No, I will sit here on the bed, thank you.”
“As you prefer. As I said earlier, I am not from these parts but from what I have seen this is the type of area where I can make myself at home. To effect this, I do require the assistance of local people who know the area.” He sat back. His smarmy smile radiated confidence.
Jolene felt very much at a disadvantage, despite sitting in her own boudoir. Something about the stranger drew her towards him but there was something else about him. She had no idea what but, it created a coldness in her heart. “I don’t know how I can help. I’m just a guttersnipe who found herself in... well in here.”
“Jolene, Jolene.” He shook his head. “A beautiful and brave specimen of a human being and yet you underestimate your worth.”
“My worth?” Jolene asked, puzzled.
“It is my understanding that your looks and the colour of your hair make you highly desirable. The menfolk do pay extra for your services do they not?”
“Well yes,” conceded Jolene, “but a better-paid whore is still just a whore.” Her bitter tone was deliberate.
“Indeed, indeed, and where do you want to go with your life? Hmmm?”
The way he asked the question suggested that he already knew the answer but how could he? She told no one about her dream: “I want to save up enough money to buy a small farm and find myself a husband, have a family. Be happy.” She dug her fingernails to counter the moistening of her eyes. Saying it out loud brought out the pain of its impossibility.
“By the standards of your profession, you work in comfortable, one might even say luxurious surroundings and you are paid quite well but even so your dream is beyond reach.” The truth of his words stung like a rattlesnake bite. “If you were to work for me then, provided you put the effort in, then I can offer you the opportunity to improve your lot.”
“Look, I don’t know what you want but Big Nell will be wondering where I am!”
“Indeed, indeed. It is interesting you should mention your employer. How do you feel about... how to phrase it... a promotion?”
“A promotion?”
“Are you being deliberately obtuse or just slow?” He was wearing that smug, confident smile again.
“Are you saying that you want me to take over from Big Nell?” Jolene’s heart was pounding. If he could make this happen, she would spend much less time on her back perhaps none at all.
“You must agree to sign yourself over to me, body and soul, but, details, details. Have we come to an agreement? Hmm?”
“Well yes, I mean no, I mean... oh I don’t know. This is so sudden,” said Jolene, “of course, I’d love the erm... promotion but what about Big Nell?”
“What about Big Nell?” The stranger laughed. “She started out on the streets back East and worked her way up to being the madam in this sorry little backwater. She called herself Little Nell back in those days. Since she moved out here she has adopted a very unhealthy lifestyle that is in unconducive to longevity. Her poor heart. At some point it will be too much for it and...” he held up his right hand and slowly squeezed an imaginary heart.
Jolene blanched. Was this a voodoo man who could kill people with his ju-ju? Then a thought occurred to her: “What about Dwayne Alderman? Is his lifestyle uncon-whatever it is you said?”
The stranger sat back on the chaise longue and caressed his beard. “I knew you would be an interesting specimen. So you want Dwayne Alderman to die?”
The horror of what she had said hit her like a rock fall. Did I just ask him to kill Dwayne Alderman? There was that cocky smile of his again. Her heart raced. Can you read my mind..?
“Good. Good. You now see the reality of your lot and, perhaps, understand yourself better than prior to our conversation. Generally, the average person likes to think that he or, as in your case, she is a good person. Reality is more complex. You see every person in this world does whatever is necessary to survive. Granted, there are those who do good, but it is secondary to the needs of the self.
“If that fails to convince you then perhaps this will. Reject my offer and someone else will accept it. You will be trapped here being fucked by men willing to pay a premium for a redhead while a new Big Nell makes the real money.”
Jolene was shocked by this eloquent and intelligent man’s use of the worked “fucked”. Doubtless, that was his intent. The thought of being fucked, as he put it, by Dwayne Alderman and men like him until she succumbed to sickness or drink or drugs was too depressing to think about.
“Just so we are clear,” said Jolene, not quite believing what she was saying, “you happen to know that Big Nell is about to cash it in and you are going to arrange for me to take over. Dwayne will also...” she held up her hand squeezed an imaginary heart in her hand twice, “...and my life won’t be a bed of roses but it’ll be rosier than it is right now.”
“Now, now,” he said, his smile replaced with a stern expression, “Dwayne was not part of the deal.”
“Oh.”
“I like you,” said the stranger, flipping a silver coin, “I like you a lot. I shall sweeten the pot. Here.” He passed a hand mirror over to her. He didn’t have one a moment ago.
“Look into the mirror, what do you see?”
“My reflection,” she said, glancing back at him.
“Look again,” he said, “do you not see hair of red, a hue much desired? Do you not see eyes of green punctuating a face much admired? Do you not see a sweet smile oh so seductive?”
“Well yes...” she said, “I suppose.”
“Indeed, indeed. Use these things to put men in your thrall, such that they will do anything you ask, but beware...” he giggled in a most mischievous way that Jolene found unsettling, “...there will be a price.”
“But I still don’t know what I am actually agreeing to.”
“It is quite simple, my dear,” the man said wearing that smarmy, confident smile again, “you are choosing between continuing as you are or moving up in the world. Now, what is it going to be? I don’t have all day.”
“How do I sign up?” As she asked the question, the stranger flipped his coin again.
“No signature required. All you have to do is accept this coin.” A stood up and walked over to her, bending over slightly, he held out his hand and proffered the coin. Jolene reached out to take it but he pulled back. “Last chance to change your mind! No? Here...” She accepted the coin and looked it over. It was a silver dollar. As she did so, she felt an icy coldness come over her. Not a physical coldness like being out in wintry weather but a coldness in her heart or in her soul.
Jolene looked up but the stranger had disappeared. She had not heard the door.
# # #
Big Nell’s funeral was a strange affair. The mood was solemn but there was nothing that Jolene would describe as genuine mourning. She and the five other girls with some of the townsfolk, and the saloon’s owner, Irish Jake, stood around the grave. It was not in the Brimstone’s cemetery but in a plot outside of town. A former prostitute who became a madam could never be allowed to be buried on consecrated ground. Jolene doubted anyone would miss her. She certainly would not.
The litany was read by Father Nathaniel Blackadder, new to the area, sent by the church, from back east, after his predecessor had drunk himself to death. Apparently, pastors who were too busy drinking to tend their flock were eligible to be buried in the cemetery. Jolene was not the church going type; she barely knew Father Blackadder. From what she had heard of the man, his sermons were all “fire and brimstone”; perhaps fitting for a small town with the name Brimstone.
Jolene hardly heard the words being spoken; she was too busy wondering about her immediate future. Finally, Father Blackadder finished the litany and the people gathered each picked up a handful of dirt and threw it into the grave.
Irish Jake took Jolene’s arm and walked with her down the hill back towards town. “My dear,” he said, “I have thought more on our chat and I agree to the partnership. However, I do not agree that you are taking over Nell’s business. It was not left to you. It will be a new arrangement. I require your rental payment in advance. We can sort out the details later when we draw up the contracts.”
“I am disappointed by your decision but I have no choice do I?”
“You do. You don’t have to have accept my terms.”
“The quicker we get the contract signed the quicker we can get to work.”
Back at the saloon, Jolene went upstairs and into Big Nell’s old room and surveyed the mess that it now was after the six of them had turned it upside looking for Nell’s secret stash of money. They had found seventy eight dollars in a small chest
Big Nell had died without leaving a will. Jolene had split the money between herself and the five other girls. Some of the others had speculated of using Nell’s savings to get out of Brimstone and start afresh somewhere else but alas it seemed that the rumours of Nell’s stashed fortune were just that, rumours.
Her attention shifted back to the mess in the room. Every piece of furniture was ruined. The mattress was wrecked beyond repair. If she was going to move in there was a lot of tidying up to do first.
Jolene started off with the small items. Broken ornaments and other bits and pieces that could be thrown in a sack and taken away. The mattress would need replacing (she made a mental note to ask for Irish Jake’s assistance later) and the chaise longue re-upholstering. Most of Big Nell’s dresses were ruined but the material could be salvaged for something.
An inspection of Big Nell’s dressing screen, three panelled with some fancy carved woodworking at the top, revealed it was still serviceable but was suffering signs of wear and tear. Jolene decided to keep it for now. With the return of the drawers to the French dresser, the room looked almost respectable.
Big Nell’s Persian rug caught Jolene’s eye. It was under the bed. She pulled at it but one of the bed’s legs was holding it. She walked around the other side of the bed, lifted it and pulled out the rug. As she did this, Jolene’s eye caught sight of a floorboard. It was a short floorboard that would normally be hidden away under the bed. Strange that she missed it when searching the room with the others. She bent down and reached under the bed towards the floorboard. It was a little tricky but she managed to get just enough of her fingers by it to lever it out of the floor revealing a hollow beneath. She clambered under the bed to take a closer look. Inside was a leather satchel. She pulled out the satchel, unfastened the clasp and looked inside.
Her heart skipped a beat. There it was: Big Nell’s hidden money, hundreds of dollars in bills and one silver dollar. She examined the coin. It was exactly like the one the stranger had given to her. She checked her pocket. The coin was gone. She looked again at the coin from the satchel. It looked like her silver dollar but how could it be?
# # #
It was too much. She could not cope. It had all gone horribly wrong.
There was a knock at the door. “Jolene?” It was Irish Jake.
“Go away.” She said, wiping tears from her face.
The door opened and in he walked.
“I told ya to go away!”
“I did not have you down as a crier,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. “Here.”
Jolene accepted it and dried her cheeks. “You are the nicest landlord whoever evicted a woman.” She said with bitter humour.
“Who said anything about anyone being evicted?”
“I am behind with the rent...” Her thoughts went back to that thousand dollars she had found under the floorboards. It had paid her first instalment for the damage done looking for it. It still pricked her conscious that she kept the money to herself but she needed to get started. Thankfully, no one had pried into her financial affairs. Alas, it was now all gone.
“Only one month.”
“I have only three girls and since those streetwalkers arrived...” She gave him a look of hopelessness. “I am working twice as hard as was before I took over just to get into debt.”
“This does lead to the obvious question,” said Irish Jake, “why haven’t you recruited the streetwalkers?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, “this place has always prided itself on being clean and respectable. I don’t want to sully its reputation now it’s called Delilah’s with women dragged in off the street!”
“If these women are dirty, a man could carry that dirt from them and bring it in here... Besides, get them in sooner rather than later and you can make sure they are clean.”
“I suppose you have a point,” she sighed.
“I do. Now get yourself cleaned up and go and speak to them. I cannot carry on being lenient with the rent.” He picked up her hand and gave it a delicate kiss.
Jolene looked into his eyes and saw warmth there. Perhaps not all men were bastards. She watched him leave and resolved to pull herself together. She washed her face and put on a coat and set off in search of the women stealing her business.
They were working, not far away, in the vicinity of the general store. At least two of them were, anyway. The first was a little shorter than Jolene and heavier set. She had dark hair and pale skin. The other was taller with a heavy bosom, slim waist and wide hips. Her stance and facial expression made her seem haughty. Streetwalkers were at the low end of the profession. Jolene had expected to see used up women but these two looked like they were in the prime of life.
Jolene took a deep breath. “Good evening ladies.”
“Good evening, Miss,” said the shorter, “we don’t get many women customers.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever had one,” replied Jolene.
“Hey, we ain’t recruitin’,” said the haughty one.
“I ain’t here to join you,” said Jolene, “I’m here to make you an offer.”
“Oh you are, are ya?” growled the first. Her stance was aggressive. She seemed poised to pounce.
Jolene wondered if they might kill her but on reflection, she figured this was better than Dwayne Alderman’s continued custom. “Erm, yes.” She realised the tone of her voice had gone up in pitch. She paused to clear her throat. “Like I said, yes. It’ll work both ways. I am short of women. If you work for me, it gets you off the street.”
“What if we don’t want to work both ways?” The aggression was in her voice too.
Jolene turned her attention to the haughty one. “You miss, do you not want to ply your trade on a warm comfortable bed rather than up against a cold stone wall?”
“She has a point, Bonnie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Bonnie,” said Jolene. She held out her hand. Bonnie ignored it. “My name is Jolene but I use the name ‘Delilah’ when I am working.”
“We don’t work for no madam,” said Bonnie, “we’re in-de-pen-dent.”
“We could check it out,” said the still nameless streetwalker.
“We don’t take no risks,” said Bonnie, through gritted teeth “that’s how we survive.”
“You call working the streets taking no risks?” asked Jolene. “Look, come and see the premises, we can have a friendly chat over a hot meal.” Though, surprisingly, neither looked underfed. Had they recently been thrown out on their ears, hence Bonnie’s reluctance?
“Who’s this?” said friendlier voice. It was another woman emerging from a nearby alleyway. “Oh, hello, you are a pretty one aren’t you. Shame, I’ve just done a john or I’d be all over you like sawdust on a saloon’s floor.”
“She’s not a john,” snapped Bonnie, “she’s just leavin’.”
“Oh what a shame,” replied the newcomer, “I’d love to ruffle your feathers. If you change your mind, you know where I am.” She had the prettiest smile and a look in her eyes like butter would not melt and a round face that seemed almost childlike. Jolene just had to get this woman into Delilah’s.
“Yes, it is a shame,” said Jolene, “I came here to offer y’all a place at Delilah’s. Bonnie here says you are strictly independent. I am sorry you cannot accept the safety and comfort of a saloon. I shall have to find someone else to occupy my vacant rooms.”
“You have rooms?” Asked the newcomer.
“Yes.”
“Vacant rooms?”
“Yes.”
“We could check it out.” The newcomer stretched out the word “could” like a child begging a parent for a treat.
“I don’t like it,” snapped Bonnie, “ever since we’ve been... working, we have relied on ourselves.”
She paused before using the word “working”, Jolene realised, what are they not telling me? “It is a genuine offer,” Jolene said out loud, “There’s nothing else I can say. You can come and have a look, see what you think. If nothin’ else, you get a free feed.” Jolene noticed the buxom one give a sideways glance to Bonnie at the mention of a “free feed”. Jolene was getting the vibe that something was amiss. She wondered if she was making a dreadful mistake.
“We’ll let you know. We know where you are.” Bonnie said with finality.
“I suppose that’s fair enough,” replied Jolene. She turned to the one with the pretty smile and returned fire with her own sweet smile. She cocked her head slightly and brushed a curl of red hair from her face. As she walked back to Delilah’s she thought about that flirtatious look she had given to the friendly one. It was not something she had even considered doing before to a woman.
Back at the saloon, she went straight to the bar and asked Josiah for a rye whiskey.
“The good stuff, I presume,” said the barman with a knowing look in his eye, “you look pale even for you, Delilah. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Jolene wondered what to say to the man. All she could think of was, “Bit tired, Josiah.” She picked up the drink he had just poured. “Thank you. I need this.” She took a small swig and allowed the liquor to sit in hour mouth. She swilled it around to get the maximum effect from the drink before swallowing. Another two swigs and the glass was empty. “Another one, if you please.” Dutifully, he poured another, which she drank in the same manner.
“Ladies?”
“Hmmm?” Jolene shot a quizzical look to Josiah and then turned to see where he was looking. Four women had just walked in.
# # #
It was the end of a long day and Jolene felt tired. The four new ladies had worked out better than expected, especially the one with the winsome smile, who was called Charlotte. The men flocked to her like flies to a prairie pancake. This was not to put down the success of the others. Though how much of this was down to novelty and how much was down to their tricks, it was too early to tell.
It was obvious that Bonnie was not happy with the new arrangement. Her protectiveness of the other three made her seem quite aggressive and it had scared off a few johns. Hopefully, she would settle down.
The haughty one was called Faith. Faith had a lot of airs and graces, almost as if she were a lady with class and some breeding. Some of the cowhands with dirt ground into them found this appealing.
Finally, there was Vanessa. A buxom woman but unlike Faith who remained covered up, she was happy to flaunt her assets. Vanessa met her customers at the faro table. She persuaded many of the men who were lucky at the table to spend their winnings on a trip to her bedroom.
It had been a good day. Takings were way up and Jolene was spared the need to take anyone upstairs herself.
Big John West had already gone home. Irish Jake finished locking up and walked over to Jolene sat by the bar. “Good day today, Jolene. I assume the rent you owe will be forthcoming before long?”
The big grin on his face was infectious. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replied, “see you in the morning.”
As soon as he had he gone Jolene found herself in the presence of Charlotte. “Anything wrong?”
“Nope,” said Charlotte, giggling like a school girl, “everything’s fine and dandy.”
Jolene looked at Charlotte. She saw her sweet smile and looked deep into those sparkling brown eyes that made her seem so innocent. It made her want to hug and hold her. Paradoxically, of the four of them, she was, by far, the least innocent.
Charlotte curtsied and said, “Lady of the house. It would be my honour to escort you to your boudoir.”
Jolene was taken aback. “I ain’t never been escorted to my... erm... boudoir before. Led more than me fair share o’ men there but never been escorted.”
Charlotte took Jolene’s arm and lead her up the stairs. They arrived at her bedroom door and Jolene turned to face Charlotte. “Thank you, Charlotte. Your work today. It’s appreciated.” Charlotte hugged and then surprised Jolene a kiss planted on her lips. “What’s the matter, didn’t offend ya did I?”
“What? No!” Replied Jolene, “Just surprised me is all.”
“Well get used to being surprised because when Charlotte’s in the building there’s hugs an’ kisses aplenty.”
Jolene studied Charlotte’s face. Gazed into those childlike eyes. Prostitution was all Jolene had ever known and no one was left unscarred by it except it would seem for this woman. How did she do it? “Look, why don’t you come in.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Jolene closed the door behind them. “I don’t know how to say this, so I shall come out and say it. I’m worried about Bonnie, she’s... I was gonna say aggressive but I don’t mean...”
Charlotte cut her off, “No need to worry. Bonny’ll be fine. She’s the tough one. Looks out for us. I have seen her knock men twice her size onto the dirt.”
Obviously, she was exaggerating but the thought of Bonnie attacking her customers was a worry. “I get the impression she doesn’t like me?”
“Do you want her to like you?”
“No, I mean yes, I mean she dislikes me?”
“That is just her way,” said Charlotte. Her voice deepened and dropped to a near whisper, “Look, you look stressed. Let me help you.”
“Huh?”
“Here, sit on the bed. That’s it. Now turn round. Good. Now I’m gonna rub your should... dang you’re tense.”
Jolene let Charlotte massage her shoulders. It hurt a little at first but she felt her tension ease as her muscles relaxed.
“Better?”
“Better.”
As Charlotte’s hands worked her shoulders and her back the movements became less intense and more sensual. Jolene felt her hair brushed aside and soft lips touch her neck.
Startled, she said, “What’re ya doin’?”
Charlotte brought her lips up close to Jolene’s ear. “I’m kissing you. Do you not like it?” Charlotte punctuated her answer with the gentlest of gentle kisses at the back of Jolene’s ear.
Jolene made an abrupt turn. Face to face with her new friend, she said, “No, what are you doing?”
“Pleasing you, I hope,” replied Charlotte with a faux-innocent look on her face.
“How’s that supposed to work?” Jolene asked. “We’re both women.”
“You lie on the bed. I do my thing. You writhe around and make lots of noise is how it works, usually.”
Jolene just stared back, not knowing what to say. Before the silence could become awkward, Charlotte moved in and their lips came together. The kiss was static but soft and tender. At first, Jolene just sat there and let it happen but something inside of her let go and she responded. Jolene’s previous experience of kissing was when men a man forced his mouth onto hers. Kissing had been something that was done to her but this was different. This was a shared experience. When the kiss broke she felt lightheaded, breathless.
“You need to take this off.”
“Huh?”
“Your dress.”
“Oh.”
Jolene put up no resistance.
Her clothes discarded in a heap on the floor and forgotten, Jolene said, “What do I do now?” The two women looked deep into each other's eyes. Jolene saw a sweet innocence in Charlotte’s eyes that should not be there. It felt powerless to resist its lure.
“Just lie down. Tell me if I do something you like by moaning or saying things like, ‘Oh yes, yes just there. Don’t stop. Oh Charlotte, you’re the best lover ever.’”
Lover? She used the word "lover"! Jolene felt a moment of panic; she was getting cold feet. Maybe Charlotte had sensed her change of mood; before she knew it they were kissing again. This time it was different. There was passion. The need for air forced her to break the kiss. Her heart was pounding.
Charlotte scooped her up in her arms and placed her on the bed. Charlotte kissed Jolene’s neck and throat, and nibbled her ears. Charlotte’s hand explored Jolene’s porcelain white skin; the gentlest of touches traced out intricate patterns in Jolene’s belly. It moved up a long convoluted path, until at last, it cupped her left breast. They were kissing again as Charlotte delicately worked Jolene’s breast exploring the whole mound, detouring occasionally to the sensitive spot her fingers found at its base.
Jolene broke the kiss to let out the sigh of pleasure, she had been holding in. The gentle hand of her lover was a world away from the unsubtle hands of the cowpokes who squeezed her breasts, sometimes to the point of pain.
“I love your pink nipples,” whispered Charlotte, deliberately breathing heavily on Charlotte’s earlobe, “I just want to eat them.” Jolene started as Charlotte gently nibbled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No. No. It's just... please don’t stop.”
Charlotte returned to the nipple eliciting feelings with her lips, tongue and teeth that Jolene had not even known had existed until now. Charlotte’s hand moved down Jolene’s body seeking out her thighs. The movements were slow, deliberate and had the desired effect.
The two women made eye to eye contact. Gone was Charlotte’s look of sweet innocence. Now, she was a hunter ready to go in for the kill. Charlotte’s middle finger found its target between Jolene’s legs. One caress was all it took to create a cry of both surprise and joy.
“By George, you’re wet,” whispered Charlotte, her finger exploring. “You are ready.” She moved Jolene round, opened her legs and moved in.
“What are you..?” Jolene could not finish the words. She was too busy discovering pleasure at the tip of a skilled woman’s tongue.
Jolene grabbed hold of the sheets. She writhed, no longer in control of her body. The pleasure built and built until...
Charlotte stopped. “You’re a noisy one aren’t you?”
“Can’t help it. Please don’t stop.”
Charlotte climbed onto the bed. Her fingers took over from her tongue. She kissed Jolene’s neck.
Jolene put her arms around Charlotte, grabbing handfuls of her dress. Her whole body shook and she held on for dear life. Her back arched. Charlotte’s kisses became more urgent and turned into nibbles and then after one final cry, it was over. She dropped back onto the bed and released her hold on Charlotte.
It did not seem possible that a woman could have a sweet innocent look on her face after doing that, but that was Charlotte. She felt a hand brush hair away from her face.
“I’ve never...”
Charlotte kissed Jolene on the lips. “Quiet now. Time for sleep. You’re tired.”
“What did do to me?” Asked Jolene, panting.
Charlotte smiled. “We made love.” Her the back of her finger stroked Jolene’s cheek.
“Made love?”
“Yes,” explained Charlotte, “it’s when two people do it for the pleasure of doing it rather than for money.”
“What about you?” Asked Jolene. “What about your pleasure?”
“Worry not about me,” replied Charlotte, “I got mine.”
She kissed her again and Jolene thought she saw love in Charlotte’s eyes. There was a moment between them and then it was over. Charlotte stood.
“Please don’t go,” said Jolene, “sleep here with me.”
Charlotte turned towards the door but then stopped. She turned back and looked down at the beautiful, naked redhead with milky white skin led on the bed. “ Ya know what, I think I will.”
# # #
Jolene snuggled up to Charlotte. She felt sleepy; it had been another long and busy day in a long and busy week. Charlotte’s enthusiasm had waned steadily over the course of the week. Realistically, this was not unexpected.
Normally, Jolene would have been fast asleep by now but she was enjoying snuggling up to Charlotte.
“What is wrong?” Asked Charlotte, “You are very fidgety.”
“I’m sorry,” said Jolene, “I’m still restless. You are just too good. Besides I am enjoying the coolness of your body. You’re so lucky. You never get all hot and sweaty.”
“You could say it’s a family trait.”
Jolene brushed some hair from Charlotte’s face and studied her in the dim light.
“Are you sure nothin’s wrong?”
Jolene smiled. “I just wanna make the most of the time we have together.”
“Hey,” said Charlotte, “we ain’t doin’ it again. The others’ll be wanting some sleep!”
“Are saying I’m a noisy lover?”
“Are you sayin’ you ain’t?” Laughed Charlotte. “We could ask Vanessa, Faith, Bonny and Irish Jake their opinion?”
“No one accused me of being a noisy lover until you got into this bed. Just sayin’.”
“So it’s my fault?” Said Charlotte with mock indignation. They both laughed. Jolene’s face went serious again, prompting Charlotte to ask, “You got something on your mind?”
“No, I mean yes. I don’t really know how to say this but since you came here...” she trailed off, trying to find the right way to say what was on her mind and in her heart. “What I am trying to say is that well, you have made me feel different. I think it is called ‘being happy’.”
“I’m here seven days a week. At your service.”
“What about you?” Asked Jolene, with pain in her voice. “I wish I could do to you what you do to me.”
“That’s another family trait, Jolie,” replied Charlotte, she seemed distant. The woman with whom she had shared so much intimacy over the past week now seemed like a total stranger. “I wish you’d believe me. I get mine.”
Jolene’s hand went to Charlotte’s breast. She teased the nipple with her fingers but as always there was no reaction. “I want to love you the way you love me!”
Charlotte sat up and turned her back on Jolene, her hands gripped the side of the mattress.
“What’s wrong?” Asked Jolene. “What aren’t you telling me?” There was a pleading and desperation in her voice that she had not intended.
“I have made a mistake.” Said Charlotte. She stood and turned to face Jolene lying back in bed looking back at her. “We... I...” She paused thinking of what to say, or perhaps of how to say it. “I am not like you. You must not fall in love with me. It would be bad for us. Both of us.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She said, getting out of bed to embrace her troubled lover. “How could it be bad?”
Charlotte broke the embrace and stepped away from Jolene, “because... because I’m feeding on you.”
# # #
Bonnie was not happy; in fact, she was deeply unhappy. The scowl on her face and her angry pacing made this all too clear. Charlotte, Vanessa and Faith watched her in silence. Sat on her bed, Jolene followed her with her eyes. She wondered if this was how the accused felt in a law court.
Charlotte broke the silence. “Bonnie...” she pleaded.
“Don’t ‘Bonnie’ me!” There was rage in Bonnie’s voice, straining on a leash. “You know our code. You know our rules. You know they are to keep us alive.”
“I’m sorry,” said a cowed Charlotte.
“You’re sorry!” Spat Bonnie, “I suppose that makes it all right?”
Charlotte answered by lowering her eyes.
“The way I see it, we either kill her or turn her.”
Jolene stood and looked Bonnie straight in the eye. “If might be permitted to have a say in my future, for once, there is a third option. Let me live. We carry on as we are.”
“Carry on as we are?” Bonnie said, hamming up her incredulity.
“To be honest the men round ’ere deserve to be fed on and more. I can help protect you.”
“Oh you can, can you?” Hissed Bonnie. “What’s stoppin’ you from betrayin’ us?”
“Charlotte and me,” said Jolene, “our love.”
“Your love? I told Charlotte to fuck you. She weren’t doin’ ya for no blazin’ love.”
“Oh.” Jolene glanced round to Charlotte.
Charlotte could not make eye contact with her. All she could do was mumble, “I’m sorry.”
“So none of it was real,” said Jolene, feeling her fragile confidence founder, “it was all a lie.” A tear ran down her cheek. “I choose death. There is nothing in this world for me now.”
Charlotte rushed between Jolene and Bonnie. “No!” She spun and faced Jolene, looked her square in the eye. “This is my fault. I was selfish. I’m so sorry, Jolie. I knew there was love there. I could tell when I fed. I should’ve stopped but...” she turned to face Bonnie, “...but I grew to care for her. I was weak. I’m sorry. I’ve tasted her blood. She’ll not cross us.” Bonnie’s face showed the doubts she harboured. “You’ve seen how well she treats her girls, including you...” The finger she pointed at Bonnie seemed accusatory.
Bonnie’s mood had not improved but she was lost for words.
Charlotte stood and went over to Jolene. She planted a forced kiss on her lips and turned to face Bonnie. “We live or die together.”
“So be it,” said Bonnie through clenched teeth.
“Is this how you keep your vow to protect us?” Faith asked, “by killin’ us if don’t do what you say?”
Vanessa started to say something but her courage failed her.
Jolene looked at the four other women in the room. Charlotte and Faith glaring at Bonnie, Vanessa not quite managing it. She thought it a long shot but worth a try. “Bonnie, we are all sisters here.” She put on her sweetest most seductive smile and stared deeply into Bonnie’s eyes. “We need to stick together.”
“Don’t be usin’ yer feminine wiles on me, sister,” said a simmering Bonnie, “I’ve seen Charlotte use that trick more ’an you ever will. You don’t fool me none.”
“I ain’t tryin’ to fool you none,” said Jolene, “we’re all sisters tryin’ to survive in a man’s world. Let’s survive together. Are ya sayin’ ya don’ trust Charlotte?” She did not give Bonnie the chance to answer. The kiss was gentle but charged with emotion. Their lips were only together for a moment but it left Bonnie with a look of surprise on her face.
“Just you be rememberin’,” said Bonnie, “if you ask to be turned there ain’t nothin’ goin’ on between our kind.” Her face darkened. “If I finds out you ain’t what Charlotte says you are...” She did not need to finish the sentence, Jolene understood the implication all too clearly.
# # #
Jolene sat by the bar. It was a good spot: it afforded a good view of the saloon. In through the door walked Jude Alderman. The word was that the Alderman family had had a shindig to mark the lad’s sixteenth birthday. He stood by the entrance with a new found confidence with a look of smug satisfaction on his face. It was easy to walk into the local saloon with a swagger in your step when you belonged to the most influential landowning family in the area, Jolene reflected.
Jude moseyed up to the bar. “Bourbon,” he said, without waiting to see if the barman had heard him, he turned around and surveyed the room. No one paid him much attention except for Jolene who, suspecting mischief was afoot, kept a surreptitious eye on him. She hoped it would not turn nasty.
Josiah put a shot glass onto the bar behind Jude and filled it with bourbon. Jude turned to pick up his drink and returned back to surveying the room. Jolene noticed his attention fall onto Vanessa. Her instincts told her that he was planning on throwing his weight around. She glanced up at John West, the doorman, just in time to see him exit through the door. This is no time to go for a piss she thought.
“Vanessa, it’s me birthday and you’re me present.” Jolene’s attention switched back to Jude who had grabbed Vanessa and forced his mouth on to hers. Taken by surprise she pushed him away. “Now that was dreadful impolite, weren’t it, you beef-headed strumpet! No one gives me the mitten.” He grabbed her arm and wrenched her towards him. “Now come an’ give me some sugar.” He grabbed her breast with his free hand and again forced his mouth onto hers.
“Show some respect.” Bonnie stepped in. “Let her go. If you wants your sugar, pay your money like everyone else.”
Jude released Vanessa and turned to face Bonnie. Incensed, he punched Bonnie in the face knocking her to the floor sending sawdust flying. Jolene stood to intercede but she hesitated. The whole room was silent. Jude looked down at his felled victim with a look of smug satisfaction. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he said, shaking out his right hand, “I’ve got me some spoonin’ to be gettin’ on with.” He turned his attention back to Vanessa and said, “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”
Bonnie got back to her feet and brushed herself down. “Bonnie!” Jolene called out, on the verge of panic. Jude heard and turned back towards Bonnie just in time to see her fist bearing down on him. The clout made a sickening crunch and he flew backwards nearly knocking over the man behind him. He tried to regain his feet but his left leg gave way. He would have fallen were it not for the support of two men. They held him up. Jude tried to speak but his misshapen jaw hung at an awkward and painful angle. Blood trickled out of his nose and mouth.
“Anyone else hurts one o’ me sisters and I’ll break his face too.” Bonnie stood there, hands on hips staring down everyone in the room. The saloon’s customers got back to their card games and conversations, their heads down.
Jolene rushed over to Vanessa. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine and dandy,” she replied, “he didn’t really hurt me much.”
“Are you sure?” Jolene asked, still concerned, “You need to lie down for a spell?”
“Seriously, I am fine. I’ve been through the mill,” reassured Vanessa. “I’ve known worse.”
“Well that’s as may be,” said Jolene, angry but still worried, “but that don’t make it right.”
Vanessa whispered in Jolene’s ear, “Get me a john, I’ll be dapper after some vittles.”
“So be it, if that is what you want.” Jolene kissed Vanessa on the lips. “Go and stand by the bar.” She turned her attention to the bar. “Gentlemen, we have all just seen a yellow belly...” Jude made a snorting noise and then yelped in pain “...being impolite to one of my girls. Which of you gentlemen is a real man and can treat a woman good and proper?”
No one spoke. Some of them looked at one and another uncertainty.
“You there,” pointing out a young man, Jolene did not know his name, probably new to these parts, ”you look like the man for the job. Five dollars and she’s yours for the evening.”
The young man’s face lit up. He rushed over to Jolene and paid and rushed off to Vanessa, who led him by the hand upstairs.
Just when Jolene thought she could relax, John West entered the saloon closely followed by Sheriff Jesse Williams. She had been so concerned about Vanessa that Jolene had not seen someone run off to fetch the Sheriff and had given no thought to the consequences of the fight.
“Sheriff, ’ere says there’s been trouble in ’ere tonight,” said West, “I told him naint right but he weren’t fer ’avin’ it.” He clapped eyes on Jude Alderman. “What the blazes?”
“Sheriff, how good of you to come,” said Jolene, hoping that her signature smile would encourage him to see things her way but knowing deep down that he would not, “as you can see that while my doorman was out watering the plants, one of our customers attacked two of my girls.”
“Looks to me like he were the one attacked me,” said Sheriff Williams.
“Looks can be deceptive,” countered Jolene, “As you can see if you look here the sawdust was disturbed when he clouted Bonnie.”
Jesse looked where Jolene had pointed and grunted in acknowledgement.
“Indeed,” continued Jolene, “Bonnie got back to her feet and clouted him back.”
“You’re tryin’ to tell me that this piece of calico did that to him?”
“In self-defence,” growled Bonnie. The aggressive tone in her voice was not helping.
“In self-defence,” echoed Jolene, in a more matter of fact tone.
Jude nodded, pointing at Bonnie and then yelped in pain. He adjusted his hand supporting his ruined jaw.
“In self-defence?” There was doubt in the Sheriff’s voice.
“Perhaps I can be of assistance?” the saloon’s barman, Josiah Wise, had joined the conversation. “This young man, with one too many bourbons inside him got himself all-fired up over Vanessa. Can’t say I blame the man. She’s a very nice girl. Anyways, he got a bit physical. Bonnie here stepped in. He got a bit shirty and got himself biffed for his trouble.”
The Sheriff looked around the room. No one said anything. “Where is Vanessa?”
“She’s upstairs giving Gus some horizontal refreshment,” said one of the men, “half price horizontal refreshment.”
“And where is the owner of this bordello?”
“He’s in the back, Sheriff,” replied Josiah, “he’s checking on the brew.”
“Bonnie,” said the Sheriff, “you’re comin’ with me. A few nights banged up should cool you down. We can’t have the whores beating up the customers.”
“What about him?” asked Jolene, her sense of injustice fuelling her anger.
The sheriff turned his attention to Bonnie. “And where did Jude clout you? I see no bruises.”
Bonnie hesitated before replying, “He can’t’ve hit me that hard.”
“So,” said the sheriff, “Jude here hit you in the face, hard enough to knock you over but not hard enough to leave a mark on yer pretty face. You then clout him back so hard, it shatters his jaw. Let’s see yo’ hand. Odd, no sign of any bruising or scuff marks on their either! Sommat ’ere don’t wash.
“You’re still coming with me. You’ve questions to answer and get Jude to the sawbones. I’ll speak to you later about this. Your grandfather will not be pleased.”
Jolene saw the anger and defiance re-surfacing on Bonnie’s face. “It’s all right, go with him, it’ll be fine.” She kissed her in the lips. “I’ll see you later and we’ll sort out this sorry mess.”
The reluctance was clearly visible on Bonnie face but she relented. Jolene wiped an angry tear away as she watched her go. She was not just angry about Bonnie’s arrest but also because Vanessa’s assault had been so easily forgotten. Jude left too, propped up by two of his friends. They were silent for now but there would be repercussions. Of that, Jolene had no doubts.
# # #
For most of the people in the saloon it was just an evening like any other but not for Jolene; she was worried sick.
She sat at her usual position by the bar watching the customers enjoy themselves. All seemed relaxed. She had let the two of the day girls off early with a five-dollar bonus each. Charlotte was upstairs with a cowhand. Vanessa was at the Faro table distracting the players and talking to a newcomer to the area, Ethan Carlisle. Ethan was the kind of customer that no one likes: he spends too much time talking and not enough drinking and whoring. He was not even spending much at the faro table. The cut of his jib told Jolene he was well to do. She knew his type.
The cowhand came running down the stairs past Jolene and to the bar. Judging by the smile on his face, he had got his money’s worth. “Barman, beer.” He munched on a pretzel.
When Charlotte appeared. Jolene gestured her over. “See Vanessa over there?”
“Oh yes, speaking to that Ethan dude,” replied Charlotte, “he’s proving very resistant.”
“Is he? He seems interested in Faith...” said Jolene.
“No. He’s one of those loyal to the girl-waiting-for-him-back home types,” explained Charlotte, “he’s part of a rancher’s family. He’s quite interested in the area. Seems to me they’re looking for land to the ranch.”
Jolene thought for a moment before speaking again, “I’ll let Ethan talk my ears off. You have a word with Faith and Vanessa. They need to be well-fed. There’s a storm brewin’.”
“What do think will happen?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. You know what Faith’s like. Tell her to eat well. If Vanessa has to let a young cowpoke win a freebie or two, so be it.”
Charlotte’s face went serious. “Bonnie is trustin’ you.”
Jolene wondered what she meant. Charlotte was usually full of frivolity; serious Charlotte was a rare beast and Jolene had no idea how to read her. By “trusting” did she mean testing?
Charlotte went over to Faith and exchanged a few words with her. Both glanced towards Jolene and then Faith joined Charlotte to flirt with a couple of cowhands. Jolene joined Ethan at the faro table.
“So you would be the one they call ‘Delilah’?” Ethan said.
“To my customers, I am Delilah,” she replied, “to my friends, I am Jolene.”
“I see,” said Ethan, keeping his tone nonchalant, “and which do you consider me?”
“Customers, my customers do more than just talk,” said Jolene, “what you wanna do?”
“Touché,” said Ethan, “let’s start again shall we?” He held out his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Ethan Carlisle.”
She accepted his hand, “Jolene White. Pleased to meet you.”
“Barman,” Ethan called over, “two whiskeys.”
Jolene caught Josiah’s eye and she gave a subtle nod. He knew what that meant: make sure it is the good stuff.
After Josiah had brought them over, Ethan passed one of the drinks over to Jolene and raised the other one. “To the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
“I can drink to that.” Jolene smiled, staring deeply into his enigmatic, brown eyes. He had the look of an outdoorsman but lacked the truly rugged look of a full-time cowpuncher.
“I have been hearin’ a lot about you, Jolene,” he said, “this ’ere is a remarkable business. Is it true that one of your girls lambasted the landowner’s son?”
“Grandson. He deserved it.”
“Doubtless,” he said, not taking his eyes of hers, “I hear the Sheriff is most bamboozled. It is normal for the lady to be injured one, is it not?”
“Bonnie is an exceptional lass.”
“Doubtless,” he said again, his eyes dropped for a split second, Jolene hoped she was winning him over with her smile. “It is a shame that I won’t get to know her.”
“Oh?”
“’Fraid so,” he continued, “the family’s looking for new pasture and there’s no good grazin’ goin’ in these parts. None that’s available.”
“Perhaps you should not be so hasty?”
“And what, pray tell, makes you say that?” he asked, his interest piqued though not by much judging by his reaction.
“The Aldermans’ve had their troubles. A bunch of ’em got themselves killed out in injun country. Dwayne was the second son but got promoted after his older brother Hubert got turned into wolf food. Hubert had a couple of fillies, eldest got taken with the consumption like her mom. Other one, Lucinda, went back east and married a city slicker. Dwayne lives an unhealthy lifestyle unconducive to long life and his lad, Jude, he’s the type who gets hissel’ scuppered wi’ one punch from a painted lady.” She reached up with her hand, running her fingers through his neatly cut brown hair.
“Interesting,” he said, his gaze now on her mouth. She relaxed her smile and licked her two front upper incisors.
“Oh, I forgot to mention Old Man Alderman,” she said, resuming her smile, “He’s eighty if he’s a day. Never comes into Brimstone. He controls the money.”
“So what are you suggestin’?” He asked, “Nothin’ illegal, I hope.”
“What I am suggestin’ is that the Aldermans are vulnerable and weak. Jude assaulted one of my girls last night. That ain’t his only crime. His pa ain’t clean neither.” She felt her anger rise again at the thought that no one would care about his mistreatment of Vanessa. She took a moment to compose herself.
“You got some dirt I can use?”
“Not exactly.”
“Doubtless by ‘not exactly’ you mean, no.”
Dammit, she was losing him. However, the memories of Dwayne pummelling her was inspiration enough to persevere.
“Look,” she said, brushing a red tress from her face, “I’d like to see the back of Dwayne Alderman. You’d like to take over his land...”
“Now we’re hearin’ some honesty from you,” he said, his cold eyes locked onto hers, “you want me...” he pointed to himself with his thumb for emphasis, “...me to help you.” He pointed his finger at Jolene. She did not like how he emphasised the word “you”.
Jolene sighed. What was it that stranger in her room had said? Use her red hair, good looks and smile to make men do what she wanted. Well, that turned out to be a load of blusteration.
Ethan sat back. For the first time, his eyes gave Jolene the once over. “I like you, Jolene. I like you a lot. Give me something I can use...” He smiled leaving his sentence trailing, his attention back on her face. “I believe it is your round.”
# # #
Like most things in Brimstone, the Sheriff’s office was less than impressive. The crudely painted sign that advertised its purpose had always hung at an angle. Jolene went straight inside. Sheriff Jesse Williams was sat at his desk. He was on his own; there was no sign of a deputy.
“Sheriff,” said Jolene announcing her presence.
“Miss White.” Sheriff Williams stood and doffed his cap. “It is good to see you. Welcome. Can I offer you coffee? The pot is still hot. Just made mesel’ one,” he said indicating the steaming mug on his desk.
“Thank you, no,” replied Jolene, “I am here to see Bonnie.” Her voice was firm but she hoped that she suppressed the impatience and frustration she felt inside.
“Of course. This way.”
The cells were at the rear of the building. There were two, one on either side. The middle area had a desk where Deputy Hickock was reading today’s news sheet. Bonnie sat on her bunk in the cell staring steely-eyed at the deputy. In the cell opposite was a cowpoke looking the worse for wear after a few too many red eyes at Delilah’s and being at the losing end of a brawl.
“Are you bein’ treated well?” Jolene asked.
“’Part from bein’ couped up in ’ere,” replied Bonnie, “all fine and dandy.”
“Before ya start bellyachin’,” piped up Deputy Hickock, “I offered her breakfast but she don’t want none.”
“I don’t want none of your lookin’ after me neither,” said Bonnie. If there had been more acid in her voice, it might have dissolved the bars.
“What’s this?” Asked the Sheriff.
“I said if she’s nice to me,” explained the Deputy, “I’d be nice to her.”
“Oh you did, did you?” Jolene’s voice had more venom in it than a hungry rattler.
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”
The Sheriff interceded before tempers had a chance to flair. “You wanted to see Bonnie. Here she is, well looked after and Deputy Hickock here ain’t laid no hand on her, have you, Deputy?”
“No siree, Sheriff,” the Deputy said sounding less than sincere.
Jolene considered saying something to the Deputy to make her feelings clear on his attitude but decided against it. With a heavy heart, she knew it would do no good. Instead, she turned to the Sheriff, “Perhaps I could have some private time with Bonnie?”
“Com’ on Hickock,” said the Sheriff, “time you had a coffee break.”
Jolene watched the two lawmen leave for the front office. “How ya doin’ Bonnie?”
“Good,” said Bonnie, it seemed to Jolene the fire she normally saw in Bonnie’s eyes had gone out, “the idiot over there wanted to cop a freebie. He weren’t happy when they didn’t throw him in here wi’ me. The deputy tried it too but he backed off when I reminded him what I did to Ethan.”
Jolene spoke quietly so as not to be overheard. “Could you, um?” She indicated the bars with her eyes.
“Don’t know, never tried it,” said Bonnie, “could do, but it’d be mighty noisy.”
“Let’s hope it don’t come to that.” Jolene leaned closer and kissed Bonnie through the bars, “I’m gonna get you outta here.” She walked to the opposite cell and shouted at the occupant lying on the bunk. “You there.”
The man responded with a grunt.
“I hear you been gettin’ fresh wi’ my sister. If I find out you ain’t been behavin’ yersel’ the only place you’ll be gettin’ yours is out in the fields with yer cowboy best buddy.”
“Hey miss,” said the man. He had turned around and Jolene could clearly see his blackened eye and badly grazed face. “just a misunderstandin’. I was just bein’ friendly like.”
“Ethan Alderman had a ‘misunderstanding’ yesterday. Now he can’t speak none on account of his broken jaw.” Jolene left him to ponder this and returned to the Sheriff and his Deputy in the front office.
The Deputy asked, “Satisfied?” The leer in his eyes was tactlessly unobvious.
“No,” she said, “she is still on the wrong side of the bars.”
The conversation went no further. It was interrupted by Deputy Hawkins charging into the office. Jolene was unable to work out whether the look on his face was panic or fear.
The Sheriff’s attention turned to the new arrival, “Deputy?”
“It’s the Aldermans,” said Hawkins, “they’re in town. They sent me ahead to tell you to get a court set up to try the harlot. Old Man Alderman is powerful unhappy. Ethan and Dwayne are packin’ iron...”
“All right, all right,” said the Sheriff, “you and Deputy Hickock stall ’em. I’ll finish up here.”
Jolene’s heart was racing. Hold your nerve, she told herself.
“I was hopin’ we could sort this out all friendly like...” began the Sheriff.
Jolene cut him off, her delicate hand stroking his bristled, sun-baked jawline. She stared into his tired, grey eyes and smiled sweetly. “I am no expert in the law but is carrying firearms openly against the law? As is punching women?”
“Well, yes but...”
“Of course, it is.” She sat back, toying with the pendant drawing attention to her chest. “Far be it for me to tell a lawman how to do his job but shouldn’t you be arresting these...” she hesitated for effect, “...gun totin’ criminals.” She leaned forward again, her hand returning to his face. “If you let them get away with this, what will they do next? Assault one of your Deputies for upholding the law? Shoot the Sheriff? You would be guilty of covering up a crime. Now, I know you, Sheriff. You are a good man. Is it true that you have been true to your dear departed wife?”
“Yes,” he mumbled, “yes it is. Indeed if not in...” he cleared his throat, “...thought.” Jolene was enjoying his evident discomfort.
“There is no sin in thinking,” continued Jolene, leaning closer whispering in his ear, “sinning is doing.”
“You’re right,” said Jesse, trying and failing to hide his fluster.
“These women you been admirin’, how you gonna look ’em in the eye knowin’ that you failed in your duty.” She could smell the stale sweat on his body and see the ground in dirt on his shirt and in his wrinkles. Now, when you’re done dealing with these miscreants, why don’t you get yourself cleaned up and court one these fillies you been thinkin’ about.”
“Jolene,” he seemed to be trying to say something.
“If you need more help, go to Delilah’s and deputise Ethan.”
“Jolene,” he said again, this time more assertively, “You are right. I’ve been wastin’ me time mopin’ after a dead woman.” He got down on one knee. “Marry me, Jolene.”
Unexpected, thought Jolene. The memory resurfaced of the stranger telling her there would be a price. This could not possibly be what he meant. “I don’t know what to say. This is so sudden, unexpected.”
“Your a mighty fine-lookin' woman,” said the Sheriff, “and some might judge you for what you do but it would make me mighty happy to take you away from that life.”
“We can talk about this later,” said Jolene, her thoughts in turmoil, “you have some criminals to deal with.”
“That I do.” The Sheriff took Jolene’s hand and kissed it. His whiskers felt rough on her delicate skin. She wondered if this latest development was a good thing or a bad thing.
# # #
It was quiet and still inside the saloon. No one was interested in taking one of the girls upstairs. Vanessa, Faith and Charlotte usually only worked when it was dark but they had come downstairs awaiting news of the showdown. The wait did not last long. Gunfights were soon over,
Deputy Ethan Carlisle prodded Old Man Alderman inside and pushed him into a chair. The whole room went silent. Jolene held her breath. Carlisle said, “Deputy Hickey, has gone to the jailhouse to free Bonnie.”
“Hickock,” said Jolene.
“Pardon?”
“Hickock, he’s called Deputy Hickock. What about Hawkins and the Sheriff.”
“Hawkins has gone to get his bullet hole seen to. Sheriff Williams ain’t so lucky.”
“‘Ain’t so lucky’?”
“Aye,” explained Ethan, “Brimstone needs a new Sheriff.” Jolene wondered whether or not she should be worried by the lack of emotion in his voice. He spoke as if it were a mere trifle and not a man’s death, a man she had known as long as she could remember.
“What is Old Man Alderman doing here?” Jolene asked. “Why isn’t he in jail?”
“I’ve to thank you for suggestin’ to the Sheriff to deputise me,” said Ethan, the snide side of him now on display, “but this is men’s business, so butt out.”
There will be a price, the words echoed in Jolene’s mind. The realisation hit. She had manipulated the men around her into getting rid of one corrupt family only to replace them with another. On the plus side, she would have to endure Dwayne Alderman no more.
“Now, Old Man Alderman,” Ethan continued, “we have business to discuss. Your family is gone and you can expect to die in jail. We can avoid that. You haven’t long left. Sell me your land and I’ll see right. You can buy a little place and live out the rest of your days in peace.”
Old Man Alderman’s face was a mixture of emotions from anger to hatred to sadness. He spat on the floor and said nothing. Jolene thought of interceding but then thought better of it. Leave the menfolk to their “men’s business”. One way or another the Carlisle family was getting that land, regardless of what she might say or do. She cast these thoughts aside as she saw Bonnie walk through the door, closely followed by Deputy Hickock. She rushed over and threw her arms around Bonnie and planted a loud smacking kiss on her lips. The two women looked at each other in the eye and an understanding was reached between them.
Bonnie whispered, “Thank you. I don’t know what you did but you did good.” She looked Jolene square in the eye. “I don’t trust easy.” Maybe there would never be complete trust but Jolene knew a step had been made in the right direction.
“You’re probably hungry,” murmured Jolene, “why don’t you freshen up and get something to eat.”
Bonnie smiled, “Good idea,” and she went upstairs.
Charlotte wondered over and joined Jolene by the front door. “About what I said, yesterday...” Charlotte had sorrow in her eyes.”I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said nothin’.”
“Don’t be silly, it is better to have everything out in the open,” said Jolene, caressing Charlotte’s cheek. “Besides, I’ve thought of a way you can make it up to me.”
“You have?”
“Yes, it involves me lying down and you doin’ things to me that make me say things like, ‘Oh yes, oh Charlotte, you’re the best lover I ever had.’”
Also in the Brimstone series: "Father Nathaniel Blackadder", "Hubert Alderman", "Bonnie", "Bartholomew Carlisle", "Charlotte" and "Ingrid Baxter".
