Page 22

Next Stop, Laramie!

Fenton had several loose ends to tie up before starting his new career as a saloon owner. One required a trip to New Orleans for what he said was“family business.”He didn’t elaborate; he just said he’d be back as soon as he could.

Left in the dark, Charlotte’s imagination ran wild. He had never mentioned family. In fact, he’d never spoken of anyone other than himself, which wasn’t unusual. A man’s favorite topic was often him.

She knew he traveled frequently, but she had never thought about where he went or why.

As a client, what he did outside the parlor house was not her concern.

Could he be married? But surely he wouldn’t venture off to the frontier accessible only by stage and leave a wife and children behind.

It bothered Charlotte enough that she asked him about it.

She got a terse response. “Nothing that concerns you.”

She disagreed. As partners, what affected him would also affect her, especially if he had to return to New Orleans. He became outright nasty when she pressed him further.

“Is this what I have to look forward to—you turning into a nagging bitch?”he snapped.

“If that’s the type of partner you’ll be, it’s not too late to reconsider our arrangement because I enjoyed it a helluva lot more when only sweet words came out of your mouth, which otherwise only opened to suck me off or scream while I fucked you. ”

How much that stung must have shown on her face because his voice dropped to a milder tone and his expression softened—the closestto an apologyFenton Sneed ever came. “What’s this really about, Charlotte?”

“We, uh…never discussed it, and you, uh…never said,”she stammered before blurting out, “You’re not married, are you?”

“Why would you think that?”he exploded.

“Men seeking their pleasure outside of marriage isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence,”she said pointedly.

“I may be an ill-mannered, foul-mouthed ass with a temper to boot, but I’m not such a monster that I’d desert my family for parts unknown for god only knows how long. It’s business—plain and simple—and it’s mine, not yours.”

With that, he left, and Charlotte had no choice but to await his return. Despite his manner, she felt reassured, at least, that she wasn’t running off with a deserting husband.

One month later, a warm, sunny day in May marked their departure.

Elise accompanied them to the train depot to see them off. “How long will it take to get there, Mr. Sneed?”

Busy digging in his coat pocket for something, he muttered, “Damfino,”only half listening. Once he found their tickets, he advised Charlotte, a smelly cigar clamped between his teeth, “I’m off to the parlor car to strangle a parrot.”

With barely a nod at the woman who had saved her from the gutter, he flashed their stamped tickets at the uniformed man at the foot of the metal steps before he boarded the train.

Elise stared after him, appearing completely befuddled. “He’s not serious, is he?”She turned to her with wide eyes. “About the parrot?”

“That’s his way of telling me he needs a glass of absinthe. He’s not a happy traveler without it. He says it’s the only spirit that makes the constant swaying of the train bearable.”

Her friend blinked, still not understanding.

“It’s a potent, green liquor made only in New Orleans, where Fenton is from,”she explained.

“And the unintelligible answer to my question.”

“He doesn’t know how long it will take. The trains never run on time here, and it’s worse out west. But we’re due into Omaha two days from now.”

“He said all of that in just one mumbled word?”

Charlotte’s mouth curved slightly, almost forming a smile. “No, what he muttered was,‘damned if I know.’I filled in the blanks.”

“I see.”Elise’s kind eyes reflected her concern. “He’s quite lovely to look at, and his build is enticing, but he’s so…”She paused, tapping her finger against her pursed lips, searching for the right word.

“Loud,” Charlotte suggested.

Elise grunted softly. “That’s certainly true.”

“Crass?”

“Perhaps, but—”

“Ill-mannered, boorish, vulgar?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,”Elise agreed. “To all the above. Are you sure his path is the one you want to take?”

“Not completely, but I’m sure of what I don’t want.”How did she put this without insulting the woman who had done so much for her over the past few years?“In my shoes, if offered a way out of the trade, wouldn’t you grab hold with both hands?”

Elise wrinkled her nose as though she smelled something foul. “Such an unsophisticated label. As if the ladies at Chez Purcell are the same as common streetwalkers who transact their business in a filthy back alley. Not that I’m judging, mind you.”

Charlotte didn’t think that. Not now or when Elise found her singed, scared, and alone on the street and had taken her in, or with the dozens of others to whom she offered protection. But Elise’s steadfast belief that the women at her parlor house were a cut above everyone else wasn’t a secret.

She waved her hand dismissively. “Truly, Charlotte. If Harold had mortgaged the house to finance one of his schemes, there but for His grace go I.”

The granddaughter of an English nobleman in exile following a scandal of some sort—Elise never disclosed the details—high society had shunned her, too. She had to look outside the aristocracy for a husband. Eventually, she married a wealthy, older American in the shipping industry.

After his business abroad concluded, she moved with himto St. Louis. Unfortunately, within a year, the city was struck by a severe cholera outbreak, the worst in its history. The disease primarily affected the poor residents of the slums, but others fell ill, too, including Harold.

He left her everything, but he had made several risky investments that didn’t pan out.

When his creditors came calling, she discovered she wasn’t as well off as she thought.

At risk of losing her home and in the same predicament as so many other women without money or family to provide for her, she became the mistress of a wealthy local man.

It lasted only a few months. Then she had to find another benefactor to keeparoof overherhead and, after him, another.

Finding another arrangement wasn’t difficult.

Many men sought exclusive, high-end entertainment, valuing both privacy and security.

Conversely, there were women who needed work and a safe place to stay without resorting to the riverfront brothels.

Combining the two inspired Elise’s parlor house.

Since she didn’t employ the women, they worked independently, free from exploitation.

While not cheap, for comfort and security, it was worth it.

Charlotte returned to her friend’s original question.

“At least I know where I stand with Fen. Besides, this is business. In a year, I’ll be a partner, and when I make my fortune one day, I’ll have the freedom to do whatever I like.

Perhaps I’ll move to California, build a house with the ocean only a few feet from my door, and ride on the beach at daybreak.

”She let out a wistful sigh over her big dreams. “If nothing else, I’d like to live the rest of my life in peace and solitude. ”

“That sounds lonely,”Elise replied. “You are still a young woman. The sky is the limit. But, be careful. There is something peculiar about that man. He has a remoteness about him, where you are so warm.”

“He can be open and charming when he wants to be, but a handsome face and disarming smile won’t sway me. I mean to keep it professional.”

“What about your ‘arrangement’?”

“He wants it to continue.”

“And you agreed, I suppose.”

“Yes,”Charlotte admittedwith a shrug. “He can sometimes be maddening, but we get along well. We talk about so many things, and considering how I arrived in St. Louis, finding a man who cares for me, however slightly, is more than I expected.”

“And Fenton Sneedis that man?”she asked, her tone rife with skepticism.

“If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t be standing here heading to parts unknown with him.”She clasped her friend’s hands. “I don’t expect love, Elise. After the pain of losing Carson, I don’t want to go through that ever again. I’m willing to settle for friendship.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.”She pulled her into a tight hug and murmured one last bit of advice. “Guard your heart, precious girl. If I’ve learned anything in this profession, youtake care ofyourself first.”

“I will,”Charlotte promised, her eyes misty with tears. When the train whistle blew, she drew away. “This is goodbye, I suppose. Thank you, my friend, for all you’ve done . ”

“Not goodbye, my dear. Until we meet again. Because I truly hope that we do. If you ever getto St. Louisagain—”

“I’ll stop in,”she agreed, gripping her hands tightly. “The same goes for you. If you ever get a hankering to tour the wilds of the untamed frontier—”

“Shit, Charlotte. Are you ever gonna stop yammering?”

She looked up at the uncouth bellow, as did everyone else on the platform. But it didn’t faze Fenton, who was hanging out the window and hollering at her.

“Get on the train, woman. Before you get left behind!”

From several yards down the platform, the conductor proved Fenton right but not as crudely. “All aboard! Last call.”

Charlotte picked up her overstuffed carpetbag and moved to the steps, grateful that the porter was there to assist her. At the top, she turned and waved, but her last goodbye was lost in the piercing shriek of the whistle.

The train moved forward with a lurch that forced her to grab the handrail.

“It’s not safe out here when we’re moving, miss. Please take your seat inside,”the porter urged.

Both apprehensive and excited about the next chapter of her life, Charlotte entered the car to find Fenton.