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Authors: Jacquie Rogers

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BOOK: Much Ado About Madams
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I got no more money.”


You don’t have a schoolteacher, either. I quit.”

* * * * *

The schoolmarm pivoted smartly and ascended the stairs with the grace of a queen, but Fannie couldn’t let the whores down after all the scheming they’d done to make new lives for themselves. And her, too.


Wait! Let’s talk.” Fannie ran up the stairs and followed Miss Sharpe into her room.

The furious woman whirled around and planted her hands on her hips. The look on her face would’ve scared a hardened Blackfoot warrior. “Talk? We have nothing to talk about because there
is
no school in Dickshooter, is there?”


No, ma’am.”


Then why did Mr. McAdams hire me?”


He didn’t. I writ the letter myself and signed his name. The girls and me wanted to learn our letters.”


And why the big charade?”


I don’t know what that is, but we do have a school. We had our first class today. I never said a thing about children or schoolhouses. If I’d told the whole story, you know damned well you wouldn’t never have come out here.”

Lucinda removed a hatpin and swept her bonnet off her head. “Of course I wouldn’t have accepted your offer. My reputation is all I have, and now you have compromised it.” Her hand shook so much she rattled a feather loose from her hat.

Fannie thought she saw a tear threaten in the furious woman’s eye. No doubt, Miss Sharpe was as mad as snake tied in a square knot. Still Fannie was determined to get herself and the girls educated and respectable. “We’re paying twice what a schoolteacher’s worth, but you ain’t getting a penny of it until one full month is up. So if you have stage fare tucked away in the lining of your trunk, get it and leave. Otherwise, me ‘n the girls want you to learn us our letters.”


Teach
you.”


Right. Since you’re keeping your bargain, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” Fannie rushed out and shut the door behind her. Miss Lucinda Sharpe needed to do some thinking about things, such as how easy it was for a single woman to end up working on her back.

Fanny remembered her first time. A slick-talking, smooth-moving man named Stuart had flirted with her at the eatery where she waited tables. She’d known better than to leave with him, but he was the most handsome, charming man she’d ever met. Next thing she knew, she woke up, drunk as a skunk while some filthy gambler dressed to leave the hotel room she hadn’t remembered going to. The five dollars she’d found on the nightstand hadn’t made up for the loss of her virtue, but it was more than she’d made waiting tables all week.

Fast Hands Stuart had hired her to work in his fancy house in St. Jo, and eventually had asked her to run the Comfort Palace in Dickshooter. When Reese inherited, he had asked her to continue as madam. In fact, he rarely interfered in its operation. He seemed more interested in his other business interests.

Reese wasn’t at all like his daddy. Never once had she seen Stuart without a drink in front of him, cards in his hand, and a whore on his knee. Reese hardly drank at all, gambled only in business, and had never once used any of the women at the Comfort Palace.

Fannie managed to get to her room without talking to anyone. She closed the door and flopped onto the plush red velvet divan Reese had bought for her. After considerable thought, the realization came to her that Miss Sharpe needed a personal reason to stay—not just money, but something that would make her not want to leave. She decided to call another meeting with the girls.

Half an hour later, the girls and Sadie had gathered in Fannie’s room. Fannie opened the discussion. “Girls, we have a problem. Miss Sharpe wants to leave and she don’t seem to cotton to Reese.”


I knowed it wouldn’t work out,” grumbled Trinket.


We need to
make
her fall in love with him,” added Holly.


We need to make sure our plan
does
work out,” suggested Petunia. “She’s pretty enough. Reese should want to get into her drawers after he gets used to her, don’t you think?”

Fannie nodded. “She’s pretty, all right, but she’s turning out to be a might stodgy.”


More like stubborn as a constipated mule,” interjected Trinket.

The group tittered and nodded. Fannie went on, “Holly’s right. We need to make good and sure him and Miss Sharpe get tangled up in love before either one of them finds out.”


She likes his looks,” commented Felicia. “I’ve seen her sneak peeks at him when she thinks no one’s looking. If she wasn’t such a pickled up old prude, she’d have been in his britches already.”


She doesn’t look pickled, she only acts that way. Besides, they haven’t been together much,” observed Holly. Maybe we should figger out a way to strand ‘em so they’re forced to keep each other company.”

Fannie held up her hand to quiet the whores. “She’s not a prude, she’s a lady—something we all need to learn how to be.”

Chrissy jumped up. “I have a plan! When we know Reese is out at the ranch, we could take Miss Sharpe out there and run off.”


Yup,” Trinket agreed, “at least they’d have to ride double for an hour to get back.”

Felicia continued filing her nails, and, without looking up, said, “Pardon me, but just how the hell do you suggest we get her out there in the first place?”

Fannie looked at each of the girls. “Well, one of you’s gotta come up with a bright idea.”


I can do it.” Sadie didn’t sound any too enthusiastic. “I can plan a picnic for her and take her out there. Then, while I’m tossing food out of the wagon, the horses could run off.”

Trinket giggled. “I’d hate to be in Reese’s shoes. That woman’s sure to be mad as a bull with his balls afire.”

After the girls finished laughing, Fannie asked, “Do all you girls agree to this plan?”

Six heads nodded their approval.


All right, then,” Fannie continued, “Reese’s planning to go out to his place tomorrow morning and camp overnight. Sadie, if you strand her there in the evening—say, seven or eight—he might be inclined to wait until morning to bring her home.”


Y’all will have to get your own supper,” Sadie warned.


I’ll fix it,” offered Holly, her voice much stronger.


That’ll do it, then.” Fannie glanced at the grandfather clock. “It’s nearly four, so you’d better get ready for the gents.” She opened the door and the girls filed out.

Sadie paused and pressed her hand to her forehead. “That little girl’s gonna hate my guts.”


Maybe,” Fannie consoled, “but if we want Reese to give the house to us so we can shut it down on our own time, we need him to get married to a woman who’ll force him to do it.”


You marrying up with Gus?”


That old coot ain’t asked me yet. He’ll be starting the new addition come morning, though, so he’ll be around every day for the next couple of weeks.”

Sadie winked. “He’s here darn neart every night—must be broke by now.”

Fannie felt her face heat up. Hell, she hadn’t blushed for years! “He don’t pay full price.”

* * * * *

Reese awoke with the dawn, thanks to the light shining through the crack in the barn roof. Damn, another thing he needed to fix. He pulled on his clothes and brushed the straw out of his hair. It’s a helluva state of affairs to sleep in a barn when he had a nice feather bed in the Comfort Palace. Right now that schoolteacher had her carcass in it. He shook his head. What a lovely carcass for such a righteous woman. It ought to be illegal for a woman with her kind of brain to have a body made for lovin’.

His lower parts chose that moment to remind him of how long it had been since he’d lain with a woman, kissed her breasts, and felt her heat surround him as he sank deep inside. He splashed his face with cold water from the trough, but nothing could keep the vision of Miss Sharpe’s face and her sweet curves out of his mind. Damn again.

Buster whinnied for his oats. Reese grabbed a bucket and scooped a healthy portion into the horse’s manger. “You know, old boy, women are downright exasperating.”

Greedily feeding on his grain, Buster flicked his tail at an early riser fly.

Reese saddled the stallion as he ate. “Shit, if I was a horse, I’d just jump on her back, bite her neck, and have at it. You horses don’t know how damned lucky you are.”


Morning, Reese.”

Startled, both Reese and the stallion looked at Sadie. “Hell, Sadie, you haven’t been awake at this hour since you came to the Comfort Palace.”

She held out a flour sack. “Fannie told me you was going out to the place fer a couple o’ days, so I brung you some food.”

Reese took her offering, unprepared for the weight. There must’ve been twenty pounds of food in that bag. “Well, thanks.” He never had got over his amazement at how the ladies took care of him. He’d always thought whores were selfish and dishonest. Not that some weren’t, but these ladies had always treated him good as gold.

Sadie turned to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”


Yeah.”


I’ll keep back some supper.”


Thanks.” Reese smiled at the goodhearted cook. She deserved more out of life than working in a whorehouse. All the ladies deserved more.

* * * * *

Fannie planted her fists on her hips and scowled at the drunk at the bar. “You can have coffee or sarsaparilla, but you can’t have no more drinks.” She was standing right next to him so she knew he’d heard her above the honky-tonk piano and the clinking of bar mugs.

Still rapping his knuckles on the counter, he refused to move. “If I have another half an hour to wait, by God, then I want another damned drink!” The scowling cowpoke nearly fell over, but caught himself on the bar with his elbow.

Fannie searched the room for either one of the twins. She spotted Midas informing a soldier from nearby Camp Lyon that he wasn’t welcome. No soldiers were. Not only did they cause arguments with the cowboy clientele, but they often carried the pox. If the soldiers wanted a poke, they had to go to Virgin Alley in Silver City.

If Midas was downstairs, Titus stood watch upstairs. Until one twin finished his business, she was on her own. Reese had laid down the law when he first took over the Comfort Palace. No customer could buy more than five drinks, and drunks weren’t allowed to stick around at all.

If they wanted to drink, they belonged in the saloon. Customers were welcome here for a poke as long as they behaved themselves. Fannie had told Reese that if the men were bound to get drunk, they might as well buy their drinks here as give their money to the saloon, but Reese had held firm that the walk from the saloon to the whorehouse would help sober them up some. He didn’t want the girls hurt, and drunks tended to be the worst troublemakers.

Gus wasn’t around, either. He’d left earlier to help Crazy Clay, a mountain man who came to Dickshooter twice a year to pick up his provisions for the fall trapping season. He wouldn’t be back for a few hours yet, not that he’d be that much use anyway.

This hornytoad had to go, but Midas was still busy and she was on her own. She plunked a sarsaparilla in front of him. “Eight bits.”

He shoved it back at her. “I told you, whore, I don’t want that shit. Now give me some whiskey.” His head wobbled a bit. His eyes looked bleary and threatening. Great, the twins were busy and she had a mean drunk on her hands.


Go over to the saloon if you want whiskey, buddy. You ain’t getting it here.”

The drunk lurched over the bar, grabbed her by the hair, and yanked the front of her dress down, exposing one breast. “I’ll take you. Right now, right here on the goddamned bar.”

Fannie ignored the painful pinch of his iron grip on her breast and slid her hand over to the bottle of sarsaparilla. She grasped it by the neck and walloped him a good one, right over his noggin. He let go with a bellow. She pranced back out of his reach, heart pounding and breast numb with pain.

The unruly drunk leaped at her. Cornered against the wall, she had nowhere to go, and the scattergun lay harmless at the other end of the bar.

Mid-air, he stopped. Only then did she realize that Midas held him by his collar and belt.


You want to take a few whacks at this bastard before I throw him out on his ugly face?” Midas growled.

Fannie took a couple of deep breaths to clear her head. She tucked her bruised breast back into her dress and composed her face as best she could, chiding herself for letting this situation get out of hand. “Naw, just throw him out, and blacklist him for thirty days.”

* * * * *


The country here is quite lovely,” Lucinda commented as she grasped the side of the lurching wagon.

Sadie didn’t move her gaze from the backs of the team. “Yep. Too bad we couldn’t get away earlier, but I cain’t go no other time. I gotta get my work done ‘fore I can take off.”

The evening breeze brushed Lucinda’s face with the soothing aroma of sagebrush and wildflowers. “I’m surprised this area isn’t settled.”


I like it. Not much Indian problem here, either. We leave them alone, they leave us alone. Mostly.”

BOOK: Much Ado About Madams
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