Page 22 of Mrs. Victoria Buys A Brothel

C hapter 22

Jimmy Reynolds’ gang

“ F inally,” Reynolds grumbled, shouldering past Victoria. He was followed by four other men, who all sat at the biggest table. “Whisky, and lots of it!”

Victoria, frozen on the spot, met Siobhan’s eyes. The girl seemed to catch that something was wrong, because her voice was unnaturally high-pitched when she called back, “Coming right up, sir!”

Lisette, who was still in the kitchen, opened the door ajar. Victoria subtly shook her head. Lisette disappeared, and, a moment later, there was the soft sound of the back door closing.

“Hey, you!” snapped Reynolds, pointing at Victoria. “Don’t stand around doing nothing, bring us food!”

Victoria shut down the familiar wave of fear and plastered her public smile. “Evening, gentlemen, welcome to Victoria’s house. I’m Mrs.Victoria, your host for the evening.”

“Food,” interrupted one of the men. “We’re hungry.”

“Well, our establishment doesn’t usually serve meals, but I’m sure we can make an exception. Let me warm up something.”

She walked by Siobhan, who approached with a tray of glasses.

“Hey, Irish! Don’t be cheap, give us the bottle!”

“Do what the gentlemen ask, my dear,” said Victoria with a strained smile.

“Yeah, what she said! Do whatever we ask!” They burst out laughing.

Siobhan threw her a nervous look, but Victoria was already entering the kitchen. Time, she needed time. She trusted Lisette to find help, but in the meantime, the three of them were stuck inside with the bandits.

She prayed that Consuelo would stay hidden in her room. As long as she had only herself and Siobhan to worry about, she could think of a way to get them through this.

She quickly assembled a tray of cheese and cured meats, not taking the time to arrange them. Bread, butter, jams.

While her hands flew through the motions, her mind was racing. What were they doing in town when their faces and names were plastered on the Sheriff’s walls? What could be worth the risk…?

Oh, she thought. The weekend’s money.

They had made a pretty lucrative sum, and anyone could have seen them walk to the bank at the end of the night. There had been too many cowboys in town for an armed robbery, but now the men had left and Swainsburg was left to the women, children, and elderly.

She slammed the oven door shut. That was their money. They had worked very hard for it.

She eyed the box of rat poison, but refrained. If anything went wrong, they could shoot her and Siobhan in a moment. It would be safer to wait for help.

Sebastian Díaz’s gun was in her room. She needed to start wearing the damn thing day in and day out.

She carried the tray up front. One of the men had pulled Siobhan to his lap and was sniffing her hair. Siobhan sat there, expressionless, waiting for it to be over.

“Gentlemen, please,” said Victoria with the motherly and flirty voice that seemed to work best on her customers. “My girl is tired. Let the poor thing go, I’ll make sure she keeps you watered.”

He only let her leave so he could grab at the food. While their attention was diverted, Victoria stepped back, but Jimmy Reynolds snapped his fingers to recall her. “You’d better make sure there’s more than this.”

“I will,” she smiled. “Let me send my girl to the store and I’ll—”

“No,” he said. “No one leaves.”

She faltered. “If you wish so. I’m sure she can cook you something, then—”

“Irish food? Fuck no,” said another man.

“You cook for us,” said Reynolds. “And keep the kitchen door open.”

“…Yes, sir.”

The oven fire was ready, so she put two meat pies to reheat and grabbed the great cauldron, where Consuelo made her chili for church weekends. There was no ground beef; she hoped they would not get angry with only beans. She loudly cut onions and hot peppers, not caring about the recipe. She just needed to make noise.

Through her racket, she heard a soft scratching. At first, she assumed it was a mouse, they’d had a couple trying to infiltrate the larders until Consuelo took violent care of them. But the noise was rhythmic, a simple scratch-scratch-scratch . Pause. Scratch-scratch-scratch .

Without stopping her loud mixing, she scratched the wall back.

Pok pok . Soft nails against the wood. Lisette.

Where was Sheriff Buckley? Thought Victoria, furiously adding too much cayenne. Was he even in town?

She removed the pies from the oven and sacrificed her good plates and nice cutlery, the only clean things available. She walked back, trying to control her trembling.

“Here we go!” she announced, leaving everything on the table. “I hope you like it; it was my mother’s recipe—”

Jimmy Reynolds grabbed her arm and slammed it on the table, making her shoulder howl in pain.

“I know where I remember you from,” he said. “You were there, that time with the Indians. I knew I’d seen your face before.”

She tried to pull back, but she was bent and twisted awkwardly, the bright pain making any movement impossible.

“Sir, please!”

“What do we do with her?” asked one of the men. “She’s seen you. Do you need me to take care of it?” He placed a gun on the table among Victoria’s plates and forks.

“No, not for now,” said Reynolds, keeping Victoria in place. “We don’t need the noise. We’re going to eat, drink, and wait for Fred and Ratface to do their job. And then, to make sure this one doesn’t talk,” he shook her, “we’re going to bring her with us.”

Victoria’s blood ran cold.

“And then, we kill her?” asked the other man again.

“Maybe. Depends on how good her cooking is.” He smiled at her. “You get all that?”

Her first instinct was to say yes and keep playing the game. But she was tired and angry.

“Let me go,” she whispered through her terror.

“What?”

She raised her head, looked at him square in the eye, and enunciated each word. “Let me go .”

“Don’t talk to me like that, you—”

“You’re in my house,” she said with all the dignity her posture could afford. “You are my guests. And you are being extremely rude.”

He stood and twisted her arm further. She winced, but spoke through the pain. “I welcomed you and fed you. This is no way to act.” She glared back. “I will ask you to leave.”

He smacked her with all his strength, and Victoria went flying to the floor. Siobhan screamed.

“That’ll learn you how to speak to a man,” he sneered.

She spat blood, and could not stop a dark chuckle.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you fat piece of trash?” he snapped.

“My husband hit harder than you,” she laughed.

And her husband was dead. She had killed him, kicked him down the stairs, and now he was rotting at the bottom of a ditch.

She had been scared of Earl for so long. And now Earl was dead.

She was not scared anymore.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, eyes defiant. “Leave my house,” she growled.

“Fucking bitch, you don’t talk to me like that.” He stepped towards her.

And then, there was a thunder of noise down the stairs. When he turned around, he only saw a furious blur before he was violently smacked in the face with a riding crop. Consuelo hit again and again, each blow landing expertly on his face. The last one hit straight in the eye. He screamed in pain and doubled over, covering the wound with both hands.

The other men jumped to their feet. Siobhan, from behind the bar, grabbed a bottle and threw it their way. She missed, but it exploded on the floor next to them. Two of them were distracted for a moment. Victoria slammed into the closest one with all of her weight, and they both went tumbling to the ground.

She tried to reach for his gun, but he was stronger than her. He brutally pushed her back and she hit her head against the table. Her vision swam. Suddenly, there was yelling—

“Hands up!” barked a voice. “Guns on the floor, now!”

Sheriff Buckley and Deputy Rogers appeared at the front door. Through the spots in her eyes, Victoria saw Paul and Mr. Smith from the general store standing in the kitchen, also armed.

The bandits looked around, unsure. Only three of them had a gun in hand, and their leader was on the floor, screeching in pain.

“I’m going to shoot one of you, I don’t care which one,” warned the Sheriff. “Guns on the floor!”

The youngest dropped his weapon and raised his hands. Now that they were truly outnumbered, the others also surrendered.

“Fucking finally,” grumbled the Sheriff. “Kneel down and put your hands behind your head. First one who moves wrong gets his brains plastered on the wall.”

Victoria coughed and stood up, leaning on the nearest chair. “My walls,” she winced, out of breath.

“I’ll make the survivors clean up the mess,” promised the Sheriff without removing his eyes from the bandits on the floor.

Deputy Rogers tied them up and walked them out, escorted by Paul and Mr. Smith. Jimmy Reynolds stopped screaming, unconscious from the pain.

Through the spots dancing in her eyes, Victoria saw Consuelo stand up and join Siobhan at the bar. Lisette was also there, hugging them both.

“Victoria?” she asked.

“I’m alright,” coughed Victoria. “I’ve been through worse.”

Before she could make a single step, Jimmy Reynolds burst to his feet, hit the Sheriff with a chair and ran to the door, bent in half, face full of blood. One hand covered his eye, with the other he shot blindly behind him.

The bullet flew just above Victoria’s head, and a chunk of wood from the stairs railing exploded over her. She threw herself to the floor in a shriek. Reynolds ran off the brothel, the Sheriff on his steps. A moment later, there were shouts and the hooves of a horse running away. The Sheriff swore profusely.

“Victoria!” yelled the girls, swarming her, all speaking at the same time. She was forcibly sat down, and a shot of whisky put into her hands. She drank, blinking.

“How close was it?” she breathed.

Consuelo eyed the railing. “Two feet, maybe less.”

“Dear Lord.”

Sheriff Buckley came back, his expression thunderous. “Sorry Mrs.Montgomery, but he escaped. Only work horses around here, nothing able to catch up. But if he comes back, it’s shoot on sight. Though I can’t believe he could even stand up, with half his face gone. What the hell happened to it?”

“Riding crop,” muttered Consuelo, raising it slightly. The metal tip was stained in blood.

“Impressive. Mrs.Montgomery, you alright?”

“I’m alright,” she said, with most of her breath back. “What took you so long?”

“We couldn’t just come in all guns blazing,” he scoffed. “Why would you antagonize him like that?”

She sneered. “I grew tired of men speaking to me in that tone. Surely you remember my husband?”

“The dead one?”

They all snapped their heads towards him. He stared back at Victoria. “Wanted to tell you the news in person,” he said, one eyebrow raised. “We found him at the bottom of a ditch, near the South Road. Half-eaten by coyotes.”

Lisette covered her mouth and gagged.

“A wealthy man like that, people notice when he just disappears. Apparently, he never even made it to Wamsutter. Thankfully the Thompsons have great hound dogs, amazing noses on those things, it took us no time to find the poor bugger. It was a nasty sight, I’ll spare you the details, ladies.”

“Dear Lord,” muttered Victoria, trying to school her features, but she had no idea what was the right expression to have.

Sheriff Buckley took out a cigarette and lit it, taking his time. “Robbed blind, not a single thing of value left on him, so we know it’s not an accident. Now, the last time anyone saw him was here, on Saturday night. This bar was full, it could have been anyone, and he didn’t leave a good impression with your admirers.” He puffed a cloud of acrid smoke.

Victoria played dumb. “Are you saying one of the bar patrons did this?”

“Could be them, anyone in town, heck, even Reynold’s gang if they happened to be there at the moment. The investigation is going to be hard with all the cowboys gone for weeks. Well,” he barked a laugh, “at least we know where you four were that night!” He blew smoke in their direction. “Partying at the Díaz farm, right?”

Victoria’s blood froze in her veins. Thankfully, Consuelo kept a clear head. “Maybe not the brightest move since we had to crawl back to church the next morning,” she chuckled, awkward. “But I think Victoria had enough emotions for the day, Sherriff. Does she need to do anything to help with the investigation?”

“The investigation? No, we have everything we need for now,” he smiled, the cigarette crushed between his teeth. “I guess she can settle her affairs, now, there’s probably a lot of paperwork involved in transferring such a massive fortune.” He raised his hat. “Good day, ladies. Mrs.Montgomery, my condolences. Or congratulations, whichever works best.”

The door closed behind him.

Consuelo immediately went to peek through the curtain and watched him walk away. She gave the all-clear signal.

“Fuck,” whispered Siobhan. “We are so fucked.”

Lisette whimpered and Consuelo pulled at her hair. Victoria was shaking, her heart racing.

“What do we do, do we leave?” asked Lisette, her eyes huge.

“I can get our bags ready,” muttered Consuelo.

Victoria’s terror was suddenly crushed by pure fury. She would not let this man chase them from their home.

“Wait,” she said, stopping Consuelo before she could walk away. “Wait, let me think for a moment.” She breathed in, out, and thought about the Sherriff’s words once more. Between the implied accusations and the gruesome depictions of her husband’s body, something tacked at the end caught her attention. “He mentioned my fortune,” she frowned.

“Oh yeah,” said Siobhan, immediately catching on. “That fucker wants a bribe.”

“This may be good, we could work with this,” said Consuelo. “Well, depending on how much he wants.”

“There’s four of us, five if we count Mrs.Díaz,” muttered Lisette. “I don’t think we have enough money in the bank for this, not even after this weekend.”

Siobhan scoffed. “But Victoria’s loaded, even more now that she’s officially a widow. Right?”

Victoria shook her head. “I’m afraid we would need to go back to Salt Lake City, that’s where our bank is. And I’m not taking the road while Reynold’s is still out there.”

“We could wait for David’s return,” suggested Lisette, softly. “Hide you among the merchandise and sneak you out.”

“You’ve been reading too many dime-novels,” scoffed Siobhan.

“His things!” realized Victoria. “They’ll be looking for Earl’s things!”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Consuelo, “we got rid of it all while you were sulking in your room. The money is in the safe, the coat has been cut into rags and bleached beyond recognition, the wrist cuffs have been smashed into pieces and charred in the oven—”

“They weren’t even real gold,” added Siobhan.

“—and Mrs.Díaz said she’d take care of the shoes, saw them into pieces and feed the leather to her pig.”

Victoria felt nauseous at the thought of Natane being implicated in this. It was far too late, it was too late the moment they told the Sheriff they were headed to her house, and yet Victoria would have preferred her a thousand miles from this crime.

“And we washed your bedspread,” added Lisette. “The dogs shouldn’t be able to trace the scent back. Maybe I should spray some of my lavender perfume to be sure.”

Victoria hid her grimace. “That would be perfect, sweetheart.”

Consuelo crossed her arms. “But what if he changes his mind? Victoria, you know I’m already wanted by the law down South. If he digs even a little bit, I’m in trouble.”

“What did you do?” asked Siobhan.

“…I killed a man.”

“And you’re telling us now ?!?”

“Hush, honey, let’s keep our tempers,” said Victoria. “I’ll deal with the Sheriff if it comes to that.” This was her problem and she would find a way to resolve it and protect her home.

“I’m still saying we need a plan B,” said Consuelo. “We should keep our bags ready just in case. We could make a dash out of here, and reach Rock Springs before night time, ask Mrs.Porter for help.”

“Let’s not bother Belle with this.” Victoria did not trust the woman completely.

“With what horses, though?” asked Siobhan.

Consuelo glanced at Victoria, unsure. “We could ask Mrs.Díaz?”

“Absolutely not. We are not involving Natane more than she is now.” She tried to stand, but felt woozy and sat back again.

Lisette brushed Victoria’s hair back from her forehead. “Oh, you’re bleeding.” She pulled a handkerchief and pressed gently on the wound. It stung.

“She got smacked right to the floor,” said Siobhan. “Glad you weren’t there to see it.”

“I’ll go get Doctor Sampleton,” said Consuelo.

“No!” begged Victoria. When they all turned to her, she grew sheepish. “He’s dreadful.”

“I told you he was creepy!” exclaimed Siobhan.

“He collects rat skulls,” whispered Lisette.

“Victoria,” insisted Consuelo.

“If we must,” she sighed. “But he’ll have to come here, I am not setting foot in that mausoleum he calls a house. Tell him to bring the good stuff, my shoulder hurts like a horse kick in the balls.”

It had the desired effect, the girls snorted at her foul language. Consuelo left.

“You should have seen her,” Siobhan told Lisette, her eyes round. “That guy was holding her down, and she just said “This is my house, you’re rude, leave now.” It was insane !”

“Oh, Victoria,” whispered Lisette. “This is very courageous, but I wish he wouldn’t have hurt you.”

Victoria laughed darkly. “He hits like a child. There’s no back swing to it.”

At that moment, there was the thundering noise of running hooves outside, and it stopped right in front of the brothel. They all stood up, tense, but before any of them could do anything, Natane barged in. She looked distressed, her hair windswept, her cheeks red, rifle strapped to her back.

“I heard shooting,” she panted, walking to Victoria. “Was it here?”

They nodded, and Natane faltered in her stride.

“We’re alright, my dear,” said Victoria through the pain of her split lip.

“She almost got shot!” accused Lisette.

“And she did get beat up,” added Siobhan.

Natane seemed to notice Victoria’s state. Horrified, she raised a hand and gently pushed back Victoria’s unkempt hair to reveal the cut on her forehead.

“I’m alright, dearest,” insisted Victoria. “We’re all fine. Those ruffians are in jail.”

“Not that it helped with the other jackass,” muttered Siobhan.

“One of them escaped,” added Lisette.

Victoria grabbed Natane’s shoulders. “Darling, look at me. Everything is fine.”

“You swear?”

“I do.”

Natane lost some of her tension. Then, she seemed to remember they were not alone, and took her hand back from Victoria’s cheek. She tried to step back but Victoria kept her in place.

“I told them about us. It’s all fine.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs.Díaz, we understand,” said Lisette.

“Speak for yourself, I don’t get any of that,” said Siobhan. “But we’ll keep our mouths shut.”

“We swear,” came Consuelo’s voice. They turned to find her at the front door. “Victoria, the doctor will be here in a moment. And Mrs.Díaz… you’re welcome here.”

Natane looked at them all and nodded, jerkily.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” said Lisette, walking to the kitchen.

“Didn’t we just drink tea?” shouted Siobhan.

“This is a crisis! These are several crises!”

Victoria was sat at the table. Natane hovered, unable to say anything.

The examination was very unpleasant. Doctor Sampleton was brusque and Victoria was too tired and annoyed to be a good patient. He cleaned the cuts, checked the bruises, wrapped her arm in a sling and gave her a dose of laudanum. Coupled with the warmth of the tea and the exhaustion, she found herself nodding off on Natane’s shoulder. She noticed and jerked up.

“The doctor’s gone,” whispered Natane. “It’s just us, now.”

Bravely, Natane wrapped an arm around her, and Victoria melted. She heard Lisette coo and Siobhan scoff. She was too sleepy to care.

Consuelo was visibly fighting her awkwardness, but she was trying. “You can both stay in my room, it’s bigger than Victoria’s.”

“Don’t,” warned Siobhan. “Her room is terrifying.”

“And yours is a mess,” she snapped back.

“We know only mine is suitable,” said Lisette, hauntingly. “My sheets are clean and perfumed .”

Victoria shook her head against Natane’s shoulder. “Nooo, I hate lavender,” she whined. “Your room reeks.”

“Whoa, stoned Victoria, that’s new,” said Siobhan with a devilish smile. “Tell us what you really mean.”

“ Your room smells like you forgot food in there.”

“…To be fair, probably.”

“We have miiiiice,” she moaned. She stopped and raised her head to point at Consuelo. “And your room is Satan’s boudoir. You don’t have sex, you have torture sessions.”

Consuelo burst out laughing. “My clients seem to like it.”

“I hear them scream,” she mumbled against Natane’s shoulder. “No, I’m going to sleep in my bed, with my sheets, and Natane is coming with me, and since the bed is tiny, we’ll have to be very, very close, like we were yesterday…”

“Ah!” said Natane, placing a gentle hand over Victoria’s mouth. “I don’t think they want to hear the details.”

“They’re whores,” she mumbled back. “They talk about sex all the time. My turn.”

Before Natane could stop her, she sat up and raised her chin. “Sex,” she declared, “can be good.”

And she fell back on Natane’s shoulder.

The girls burst out laughing. Natane hid her blushing face with one hand, and yet hugged Victoria closer with the other.

“Okay, I get it now,” said Consuelo, staring at them with fondness. “I didn’t at first, but this is something we can all relate to.”

Siobhan grimaced. “Speak for yourself.”

“Either way, we need to thank you for taking good care of her, Mrs.Díaz,” said Lisette, swatting at Siobhan when she muttered “Yeah I bet she did.”

Natane breathed in and tried to regain her dignity. “Please, call me Natane. I think we’re way past this point.” She looked at Victoria, a gentle expression on her face. “I’ll put her to bed.”

Consuelo placed the bottle of laudanum in her hands. “In case she wakes up in pain.”

“I got a spare nightgown you can borrow,” said Siobhan. “I swear it’s clean.”

“I’ll get you clean water and towels,” said Lisette, standing up.

Victoria let herself be led to her room. Natane gently undressed her and took care of removing the shirt without pulling at her arm. She strapped it back to her chest over the chemise and laid Victoria down under the covers. With a wet towel, she wiped the sweat off her brow, the blood on her lips.

Victoria felt a familiar body climb into bed and mould itself around her, long arms and long legs surrounding her with warmth. She knew that outside, there was Jimmy Reynold’s gang, the Sheriff’s insinuations, and Earl’s rotting body. But here, she was safe, and nothing could hurt her.

“Natane?” she mumbled.

“I’m here. You can sleep.”

Victoria wanted to tell her something. Something important. But sleep caught up to her and the words were left unsaid.