Free Dorothy Garlock by Restless Wind Page A

flame-haired girl came to the door.
    “Ain’t he waked up yet?”
    Mary stood and picked up the lamp. “He woke up and now he’s gone back to sleep again.”
    “Dud Simms just left. I never said anything ’bout him bein’ here, Mary. Honest.”
    “I knew you wouldn’t if I asked you not to,” Mary said kindly. “I hope Clara and Hannah will keep quiet, too.”
    “Clara’s got Billy Hopper in there. Him ’n Dud was the only ones to come by tonight.”
    Mary Gregg was a full-bodied woman in her early thirties with soft brown hair and a pretty, unlined face. Her skin was smooth and white. She never allowed the sun to touch it if she could help it. Her cheeks were rosy without the use of the rouge her girls used, and her lips red. She kept herself immaculate at all times.
    Mary had come to the territory as a bride. She and her husband had filed on government land, but pressure from Adam Clayhill had caused her husband to give it up. After he died, Mary took a couple of unfortunate girls under her protection after they had been run out of another town. The need to make a living forced her to open her own place. She never had more than two or three girls at one time, and they stayed until they found some cowpoke or drifter to marry them or they left of their own accord. One of them had married a mule-skinner by the name of Josh Hamilton and stayed on to help her run the place. Meta was a fine cook and Josh took care of the outside chores.
    As far as anyone knew, Mary Gregg had never personally serviced any of the men who came to her house. She demanded that her girls be treated kindly and that they never be forced to do anything against their will. It was said that she was one of the richest women in this part of the territory.
    “Dud told me ’bout what happened in town today. He said a Indian rode in with a pisspot full a gold and bought up range old Clayhill’s been usin’. I’d like to see the old bastard’s face when he finds out.” Minnie looked to see what effect her words had had on Mary, because everyone knew of her intense hatred for Adam Clayhill. Mary’s expression never changed and the disappointed Minnie continued. “He said the Indian got in a fight with Shorty Banes ’n cleaned his clock before he could say scat. Dud said Shorty was madder ’n a hornet ’cause the Indian kicked him in the nuts ’n he thought his ruttin’ days was over! Ha, ha, ha . . . I wish they was. He’s like a hog! He ain’t never goin’ to use me no more,” Minnie said with a toss of her red head.
    “All you have to do is say the word, Minnie, and he’ll not get through the door again. You know that.”
    “You reckon
that’s
the Indian he was talkin’ ’bout?” She jerked her head toward the bedroom door. “Whoeee! I don’t care if’n it was him or not that kicked the shit outta Shorty. I’d open up fer him . . . anytime!”
    “Humm . . . You stay out of his room unless he asks for you. Hear?” Mary said in a no-nonsense voice. Then, “Let’s see if Meta’s got some fresh coffee. She’ll want to hear about what went on in town today, too.”
     
    *  *  *
     
    Rosalee brought her arms up out of the warm suds and looked off toward the east as she had done a dozen times in the last hour. There was no movement on the trail or on the horizon. She glanced around for Charlie and decided he had gone off somewhere with Ben.
    She put her hand to the small of her back and straightened. She was tired. At daybreak she had brought the iron boiling pot from the cowshed. She had half filled it with water, carried from the spring in the cliff behind the house, and built a fire under it. The first batch of clothes were drying on the bushes and the rope she had stretched from the corner of the house to the oak tree beside the corral.
    The late May sun had some heat to it in the middle of the day, and Rosalee wiped her face on the end of her apron and pushed the hair back from her eyes.
    “Where’s Odell,