The Heart of a Soiled Dove (18 page)

“I say we wait. Whoever hates me and dislikes prostitutes leaving town is bound to show up at some point,” Aurora said. Across the table sat Josie and Beth. The better part of the day had been spent pondering and making decisions on how to safeguard themselves.

“Sophia and Beth are from Kate’s, you and Lauren are from Poe’s. Who’s madder?” asked Aurora.

“It’s the sheriff, Corbin Bradbury. He makes his living by taking money from the others and doing their dirty deeds,” Josie affirmed – she seemed to know him best.

“We wait then?” Beth sat forward.

“We can’t very well go shooting up the town. They’ll hang us for murder. Especially since we’re unlawful, prostitute citizens. It would behoove them all to be rid of us.” Aurora thought a moment. “I despise not doing anything about it now.”

Josie relaxed her poised frame – seeming to acquiesce. “He’ll come back. Then it will be self-defense when he’s caught on our property.”

“If this is how it’s going to be we better get in some target practice,” said Beth. “I’ll gather the girls.”

They made their way to the barn. Beth was the first to enter and Aurora heard her call out to them. Aurora made haste and saw Emmy’s body. A box of strychnine lay on its side next to her. Emmy’s last moments had been imbedded in coarse straw, eyes staring into nothingness. Beth knelt before Emmy, grabbed a nearby saddle blanket and covered her with it. Aurora flung herself to the ground next to her precious Em. The sight was beyond grotesque. Beth shared this is the very position she and Josie would find the barn mice in. Emmy’s hands were bent unnaturally and stiff, her head lolled to the side. Aurora swatted away flies already hovering around the body.

Josie said quietly, for everyone’s edification, “Strychnine causes the body to seize and paralyzes the brain, so the Doc says. Death is immediate.” She outlined Emmy’s stricken look with her fingertip. “I’ve seen this too much in my time. It’s a quick way to go. She did it to herself.”

“Maybe she believed her unhappiness would end if… if she did,” Beth added.

No comfort would be brought to Aurora through any words. This death would affect her the rest of her life. Emmy was her first ward. She had loved her and still it was not enough. She couldn’t do this anymore.

Another grave was added beside Lauren’s and Aurora wondered how many more would be added to it – and who? For once she wanted to weaken and have the men back. Men to take care of them. Forget independence, it wasn’t worth it. The will of man would always win. The girls said words over Emmy. Some were sincere, others generic, the kind of things one said at a funeral because they did not know her. Emmy had certainly made it difficult to form a relationship of any sort with them. They spoke these words and departed, leaving Aurora alone with her silent grief. She did not want to dwell on the unwise choices made by her and thought instead of Emmy, the no nonsense girl she’d first laid eyes on in an alleyway of the Red Light District in San Francisco. After a long while, Aurora hiked up her black skirts and walked home. The fall breeze whipped loose her hair and when rain began to fall, she held her face up against it. The feeling was cleansing and she soaked up every healing drop that poured forth from the heavens.

She realized everyone around her wasn’t a weight to be carried upon her own shoulders. She spent time in prayer and was grateful He never left her and never would forsake her. After releasing her life and the lives of the women around her in full surrender to God, Aurora felt a relief so great she became overwhelmed with joy instead of sorrow.

Aurora returned home and said, “Corbin has stayed away and you girls have not returned. If we don’t plan something soon, you can bet they will. We’ll need to handle this our way.”

“For justice,” Josie asserted.

Beth slurped her tea. “I come from a big city, Aurora, and I should have thought of this sooner, but I got connections with a judge in Helena. Not political ones needless to say, but more… private. He would do anything for me. Suppose I could telegraph him about our situation.”

The next evening brought a gray night sky where there were no stars glistening and a moon overshadowed by a cluster of thick clouds. Aurora decided they were certainly going to receive no blessing from the heavens tonight. In order for their daring escapade to succeed, the timing had to be impeccable. After searching the unbidden sky, she gave a warning look to Josie –
what if it doesn’t work?

“Let’s do this,” Josie declared.

In the black of night, Josie entered the Lady of the Night Saloon, with Aurora and Beth following on her heels. The mission was dangerous, but it was a risk the girls had to take in order to secure justice. In the darkened corner of the saloon, Aurora and Beth halted while Josie crept towards Thatcher’s bedroom door and slipped inside. As planned, she’d made sure it was left ajar. They waited a minute before entering themselves. He was snoring loudly, and thankfully, was alone. Aurora held her breath. If Josie startled him none of them would live to see the sun rise.

“Thatcher….” Josie whispered, keeping safe distance. He moaned and turned to the other side. She tiptoed closer. “Thatcher, it’s me, Josie.”

He opened an eye and immediately aimed a gun at her. “Trying to kill me in my sleep are you?”

“Why don’t you put that thing away? I could never hurt you.”

He grunted in disbelief and sat up, not noticing the other two hiding in the shadows. Josie stepped cautiously to his bed and asked, “May I?”

“By all means.”

Stoically she sat on the very edge of the bed.

“I knew you’d come back to me. You know your place, Josie Callahan.”

Aurora watched carefully and noticed Josie eyed the evil whip in the opposite corner of the room. But it appeared she was not going to be shaken and remained in character.

Good job, Josie.

With head bowed in shame she said, “I know I have to pay for my disobedience. I should have never left you.”

Josie made herself appear to submit and Aurora continued to wait in fearful silence, clutching the burlap bag with her sweaty palms. Then she saw Josie give the signal and she sprang into action. She came out of the corner of the room, affixed the bag over his head and yanked him brutally backwards.

“Do it!” Aurora shrieked at Beth, who had a foot long heavy piece of wood raised high. She cried out and swung. Thatcher’s body heaved, rolled from the bed and thudded onto the floor.

“Josie! I’m gonna rip your bloody head off!” he hollered, unable to remove his hood. Many hands wrestled to keep him down. His ranting was going to wake up the whole town. This was not working. Aurora feared for them and held the thrashing man as best she could and said to Beth, “You can’t afford to miss. Do it again!”

Beth raised and swung, whacking him clean across his head. A sickening, momentary silence ensued. Was that it? Heavy breaths from everyone filled the air. They could not tell if he was out cold or not, or even dead for that matter. Beth and Aurora then readied the rope. Thankfully, Thatcher moaned – he was alive. Aurora gulped hard with relief and placed herself heavily into the only chair in the room, emotionally and physically exhausted. Adeptly, Beth tied Thatcher’s hands and bound his feet together.

It was near pitch black and they bumped into everything. Aurora gathered herself up and felt around for the man’s dresser. She placed a note onto it, then helped her mates heave his motionless body out of the saloon and into the waiting flatbed wagon. They all climbed aboard and Josie slapped the reins. It was done, the beginning of this insane justice anyway. Now there was only hope for the rest to come into good and final order. Aurora prayed to her Lord that this would work out – after repenting for the violence.

Finally the cattle drive wrapped and they’d now make the two week trek home. Donovan had just settled in his plainly decorated hotel room, leaving the men to their devices down in the saloon below. He adjusted the broken glass mirror on the tall dresser and lathered up shaving lotion, spreading it liberally across his full beard. All along the blasted trail his thoughts were upon his beautiful neighbor and he wasn’t happy about that. And listening to Roman brag about Aurora the whole trip made him wonder if he wasn’t missing out on a good thing. His brother liked her real well, and when Martin and Luke tuned in to sing her praises, it had gotten very aggravating. Blast it! He wanted to know if she was worth all these hours spent thinking on her. He’d made the mistake of remembering the picnic with Aurora and her sincere attempts to make amends. She must think him so boorish. She’d had no idea that sitting with her had been difficult, that being near her always brought an emotional sensation over him. Everything in him did not want to admit that she was a good woman, but he could no longer deny it. She had a heart for soiled doves. Who would have ever thought? At no consideration of her own reputation, she not only held a soft spot for them, but took action and helped them. A thought invaded his mind of his own mother, and the distaste for women who sold themselves tried to choke out any revised thinking on Aurora.

With a sharpened blade, Donovan made a smooth scrape against his cheek and looked at his hard face. He’d done everything possible to make himself not very appealing. Yet she still tried, even after he’d taken her property. Independence and stubbornness – in his mind, Aurora had all the right qualities in a woman determined to make it on her own. He grunted in discontent. Men he could deal with. It was women who played with your heart, women like Aurora that he had no patience for. He swiped the blade, making every stroke perfect, making himself concentrate on the mission at hand.

Just as an image of Aurora came violating his mind, he cut himself near the neck.

“Pay attention, you stupid fool.” He caught a good look at himself and his bleeding wound. It wasn’t until he saw his frown that he realized this was the sight Aurora looked at each time she met his eyes. Who’d like such a mean tempered man anyhow? He tried to calm his features, soften them somehow. Then felt like the fool he was playing with facial features in front of a mirror. He finished the chore of shaving and placed the mirror face down on the dresser. He winced a bit at the cut and cursed himself again, for good measure.

After undressing down to his long johns, he climbed into the lumpy bed, cranked up the lantern and snapped open a week-old newspaper. A tapping sound on the door interrupted his peace and he was in no mood for a visitor. And if it were a whore sent up to him, he’d let his men have it, with his boot to their backsides and then some. His men knew how he felt about whores and wasn’t in a tolerating sort of way right now.

“It’s me, Roman.” A voice echoed behind the door.

Never a moment of peace.
“One minute.” As calm as can be, Donovan pulled on his pants and opened the door.

Roman walked in just as you please. “Wanted to say goodnight.”

“Alright.” Donovan looked at him queerly. “Why the sentiment?”

Roman had never come out of his way to say much to Donovan unless it served a purpose, let alone a “good night.”

“I don’t need no reason to say good night do I?”

“Didn’t mean to offend.”

Roman sat in his chair. “The men are all… hooking up with the gals. Got some offers my way and needed to get out of the hall.” His brother put his hand on his head, ashamed. Was he seeking to be absolved?

“I almost went with one of them prostitutes, Donovan. What kind a man am I? Got this pretty and innocent thing waiting for me to come home and I gotta be tempted like Carrie Anne doesn’t mean anything?”

“You didn’t do nothin’ did you?” Donovan frowned. He was the wrong person to be confessing all this nonsense to.

Roman’s face was red in anguish. “No, but….”

“Then forget about it.” Ready to move along with something else, Donovan asked, “How do you think the women fared while we’ve been gone?”

“Do you really care?”

Donovan shrugged. “Just thought you did is all.”

Roman nodded. “I should think Aurora can take care of pretty much anybody. It’s why I left Carrie Anne with her instead of putting her up in town somewhere. Of course, Aurora wants to lend a hand next year so we’ll see what comes of that when it’s time.”
A fierce scowl came over Donovan. “A cattle drive is no place for a woman.”

Roman looked hopeless. “What am I to do about it? She’s the owner.”

“You can’t let her come with!”

“It ain’t my choice and I don’t see where it concerns you.”

“It doesn’t.”

Roman eyed him – acting like he knew all. “You been thinking about Aurora.”

“I don’t think about anybody.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Donovan wanted to inform his brother that he was all fine and well
before
he showed his remorseful face, but he didn’t. “You’ve said your goodnight, then.”

Roman was clearly annoyed when he left. Donovan tried to settle with the paper again, but had an ill-timed notion of worry over Aurora and her well being. He threw the newspaper against the wall and tossed to his side wondering what would give his mind some long overdue peace. Something Reverend John Palmer had said recently seemed to smack him clean in the gut.
“The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace
.”

Donovan fell asleep hoping for peace, but knowing he of all people, did not deserve it.