Page 26 of Mrs. Victoria Buys A Brothel

C hapter 26

Standoff

The moon, big and bright, illuminated the plains. Blown by the strong winds, the grass seemed like a tumultuous silver ocean. Thankfully, the road was visible enough to bring the horses up to a gallop.

Natane rode next to her like a dark ghost in the night. Behind them, David and Paul followed.

Natane glanced back. “They can’t go any faster, these are farm animals.”

“I’m not slowing down!” Victoria spurred Sir Isaac Newton forward. “They can’t go too far north, not on Shoshone land!”

“Victoria, my mother’s people left for the winter. There’s no one to stop them.”

Victoria swore in rage. The horses would not be able to keep the pace for long. She had no idea what they would do if they did not catch up, or even if they did.

After an hour, the road passed through a copse of trees. The horses hesitated to go further.

Natane stood on her stirrups and squinted through the trees. “There’s light near the creek,” she murmured.

“How many were they?” Victoria whispered back.

“Hualing said four, maybe five.”

Victoria twisted the reins. They could not try an ambush, not without risking the girls’ lives. She thought, furiously, trying to find a way to get closer without endangering them.

One thing was certain, she would not be able to approach subtly in her flashy white dress, Sir Isaac Newton’s pale coat a beacon in the night. Paul did not fare better in his cotton undershirt. But the other two, dressed in dark colours atop darker horses, might stand a chance.

“I have something,” she whispered. “Natane, David? Walk around and find a good spot to cover us.”

“Cover? What are you planning to do?” said Natane, alarmed.

“Get their attention.”

Natane grabbed her reins before she could move and pulled their horses together. “No,” she breathed. “Please, don’t…!”

Victoria’s heart broke at seeing the pain on her face.

“I need you to protect me, darling,” she whispered back.

Natane squeezed her hand. “Please be safe.”

“You’ll keep me safe.”

They could not say more, not even at that moment, but a look was enough.

“Alright. Okay. Paul, with me. You two, I’m counting on you.”

David waved and disappeared through the trees. Natane, with a last glance behind her, followed.

Soon, Victoria and Paul were alone on the dirty road.

“You could have stayed with Consuelo,” she whispered.

“No. She needs them back.”

She nodded, a bit reassured by his looming presence.

They rode in silence until they found a fork in the road, where a small part diverted towards the creek. Victoria grabbed her gun, prayed to Sebastian Díaz, and went in.

There was a camp, covered on two sides by the creek and a rocky outcrop. Four men sat around the fire, eating, and did not look up when they arrived. The fifth one was Jimmy Reynolds, holding a gun to Siobhan’s head.

“Ah, it’s the Madam,” he sneered. One of his eyes was closed, covered in an ugly scar. “I wondered who would come so far for a pair of whores.”

He pressed the muzzle further in Siobhan’s curls. She was kneeling at his feet, gagged, hands tied behind her back, and crying.

Victoria slowly put her gun back in the holster. From the corner of her eye, she could see Paul doing the same.

“Better. Now, what do you want?”

Victoria kept her eyes on his face despite her terror. A wrong move, a wrong word could blow Siobhan’s head off.

She held herself straight. “I came to negotiate.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, let’s negotiate. Your offer better be good, though.”

She and Paul dismounted. The other guns were now pointed at them, but those were not the ones that scared her.

Her head held high, she walked up to the fire.

“Don’t waste my time,” he said. “It’s not like an Irish whore is worth a lot. But at least it’s more than a Mexican one.”

Victoria bit back a scream of rage. They had tied Consuelo to her own bed and left her in a burning building. Until that moment, she had never imagined she could hate someone more than she hated her husband.

“Where’s Lisette?” she asked.

He gestured behind him with his chin. There was an open cart near the water, horses still harnessed. Lisette was lying on her side, gagged, hands and feet tied, her face covered in tears. She screamed at Victoria through the cloth.

Victoria took a breath. Natane and David would be somewhere in the forest, but they would not be able to do anything while Reynolds had a gun pointed at Siobhan.

She trusted Natane to make the shot. She only needed to distract him.

“How much can you pay?” he asked.

“How much gold do you want?”

“Lady, I want a lot of gold. Even you can’t have whatever I have in mind.”

“I own a manor in Salt Lake City, and all the fortunes that belonged to my husband.”

The men laughed. “What kind of man would let his wife walk around in that getup?”

“A dead one.”

Jimmy Reynolds tilted his head. “And now that you killed your husband, you think you can kill all five of us?”

“Don’t be obtuse, I need you alive.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Think, Reynolds,” she scoffed. “We could end this discussion in blood. Or we could be smart about it.” She raised herself to her highest, channeling Belle Porter of Rock Springs. She rearranged the ruffles of her dress, making a show of brushing ashes off the white satin.

“You made your point. You burned down my brothel; you stole my girls. I can admit when I’ve been outplayed.”

“I still don’t see what you could offer me.”

“Ten percent of all profits, for one.”

“Ha!”

“Fifteen, then. You are probably aware of how popular my little operation is becoming. Only last Church weekend, we made at least a thousand dollars.”

“Yeah, and you stopped me from taking it.”

“How short-sighted of you, when you could have the same, every month.”

“You’re not making that much money.”

“You’re not picturing things like I do, Jimmy,” she said in a disappointed motherly tone. “We rebuild the brothel and the saloon. I get more people to man both, we rent rooms with real beds.”

She glanced at the others, making sure they were all staring. “And, of course, these beds and girls would be available whenever you came by, gentlemen.”

Reynolds scoffed. “We can get that whenever we want.”

“Do you? Can you truly say you can have a decent night sleep in towns where your face is on wanted posters?”

She eyed their bedrolls on the ground, scrunching her nose in distaste. “I could have feather pillows waiting for you. Fresh linen. I could keep your favourite whisky, your favourite cigarettes, always on hand.”

“Pillows,” repeated one of the men, halfway between mocking and wistful.

“We are in Wyoming, Jimmy. The real money is in entertainment and luxury.”

He thought for a moment, the gun never wavering from Siobhan’s head. Victoria kept her eyes on him.

“Fifty percent,” he said.

She laughed delicately. “Now, surely you can’t think—”

He pressed the gun harder, tilting Siobhan’s head at an uncomfortable angle.

“Don’t push me. Your Mexican whore took my eye.”

She bit back her rage. “And she paid for it.”

Siobhan whimpered, looking desperately at Victoria.

Reynolds sneered. “Fifty or the Irish cunt gets it.”

Victoria faked a moment of hesitation. “Fifty, then. But I need the funds to rebuild.”

“That’s your problem. I’ll come back next month, and I’ll be expecting a thousand dollars right at the start. And if you think you can trap me, I’ll be keeping the other one as a guarantee.”

“That’s not what we agreed on!”

“Ha!” He kicked Siobhan towards her, the girl landing on her shoulder with a cry. “You negotiated for this one. The other one is worth a lot more—”

The moment his gun pointed elsewhere, a shot pierced the night, then another one.

Victoria threw herself over Siobhan and flattened them both to the ground. A bullet whistled over her head and Reynolds recoiled in a yell, a hand going to his shoulder.

The men scrambled to find cover, but Paul grabbed the closest one and sent him flying with a single punch. Two more shots rang into the night. The third man was hit on the hip and fell face first in a shriek of pain. The last one was dead before touching the ground.

There was a silence. Victoria lifted her head slightly. Under her, Siobhan was crying and shaking.

“Shhh,” said Victoria, looking around. “Shh honey, I think we’re safe.”

“All good!” yelled David’s voice.

He was on the cart, crouched over Lisette. Natane came out of the trees, carrying her rifle and looking frazzled.

Victoria helped Siobhan up. “Here,” she muttered, gently. “Let me take your gag off.”

The instant Siobhan could talk, she burst into tears. “Is Consuelo dead?”

“Oh no! She’s fine, she’s in town. We got her out in time.”

In the cart, Lisette cried in relief.

“Lisette, sweetheart, are you alright?” Victoria called. “Paul, please untie Siobhan. I’ll be right back, honey—”

It only took a moment. Paul lowered his gun; Victoria stepped towards the cart.

Natane walked to her, her expression distressed—

—and got her feet kicked from under her. She fell forward and dropped the rifle.

In a flutter of movement, Jimmy Reynolds was digging a knee on her back, pressing the muzzle of his gun at her nape.

“Fucking bitches,” he spat, shaking in pain. His left shoulder was bleeding profusely, his arm limp and useless. “Guns down, NOW!”

One by one, they dropped their weapons. Victoria let Sebastian Díaz’s gun fall from her hand. It bounced away from her.

Reynolds got back on his feet in a growl, his gun never wavering. “I’m done negotiating, I’m done dealing with you, I’m DONE!”

And he kicked Natane in the ribs.

Victoria screamed, her voice breaking. He kicked again, and again. Natane curled into a little ball on the ground, biting back her yells.

“You move and she’s dead,” he growled at them. “You let me go, and I’ll drop her somewhere on the road. Maybe she’ll even be alive.” He turned to Natane. “You! Indian bitch! Get up, now!”

Natane staggered to her feet, holding her middle with both hands. He marched her to the cart. “Drive,” he said, never leaving her out of his sight.

Out of breath, folded in half, Natane took the reins and obeyed. She threw a teary last glance at Victoria, and they left.

They left, and Victoria had done nothing.

She watched the chariot disappear among the trees with a wail of despair. This was not happening— this was—

“Go!” yelled Lisette. “Just go!”

Victoria snapped out of it and burst into movement. She grabbed Sebastian Díaz’s gun and, waiting for no one else, mounted her horse and rode after them.

Sir Isaac Newton flew through the night. Soon, they left the copse of trees and were back on the grassy plains. The cart was far ahead, but her horse was faster.

“Reynolds!” she howled.

He glanced back and grimaced. His gun was still on Natane.

“Stop or I’ll fucking shoot her!”

Victoria wanted to rip the man apart, but she had to be smart about this. She rode up to Jimmy Reynold’s side, a good ten feet between them. Natane looked at her, terrified.

“Stay back!” yelled Reynolds, pressing the gun to Natane’s side. “I’ll fucking kill her!”

“You’re going to bleed out!” yelled Victoria. “Let her go and I’ll see to your wound!”

“Fuck no!”

“There’s nothing for miles! You’re going to bleed out and you’re going to die in the middle of nowhere! I can help!”

“You won’t trick me again! You, Indian bitch—”

Natane shoved him violently with her pointy elbow. The shot missed.

“Natane!” shouted Victoria.

Reynolds sat back up and raised the gun again.

In an unholy shriek, Victoria half jumped out of the saddle, grabbed him and hauled. His aim went off. He wobbled on the seat and, in a last move, kicked Natane off the cart.

Victoria screamed again, but she had no time to react. Reynolds used her own grip to pull her from the horse. She landed at the back of the empty chariot in a mess of silk and lace.

Reynolds landed atop her and pointed the weapon at her face.

She winced.

Nothing happened.

“Fucking shit!” he yelled at his gun. Then, he slapped her across the face with it. The metal stung. She bit her tongue, felt her mouth fill with blood. “You’re going to get it!”

He dropped the gun and grabbed her by the neck, pushing her until her head was dangling off the open end of the cart. Victoria, choking, felt the furious wheels near her head, the solid ground flying under her.

Above her, Reynolds was a grimace of rage against the night sky. He pushed her by the neck until her shoulders were also hanging from the cart. She tried to grab onto something, her satin gloves slipping on the wood. The balance shifted; she could feel herself falling back…

She grabbed him with both arms and pushed with her feet, twisting, throwing him overhead out of the cart. They both fell.

Victoria landed on her side, her body shaking with incredible pain. They rolled on the hard ground, falling apart and finally, stopped.

Victoria laid there, immobile. She could not breathe, she could not think…

Reynolds stood up first. He wobbled to her, furious, half-blind, bleeding.

Wincing through her pain, she reached to her belt, and found it.

Secure in its holster, Sebastian Díaz’s gun.

She took it out and, trembling, shot in his direction. The bullet flew way over his head, but he stopped. For the first time, he looked afraid.

Good , she thought.

She rose back to her knees, biting through her lip from the pain. She stood up slowly, on shaking legs, still aiming at his general direction.

“What do you think you’re doing, drop that,” he warned.

She spat blood at his feet. “Leave,” she warned. “Leave my town, leave my people. Never come back.”

“Fucking bitch, you think—”

She raised the gun at his face, having to use her injured left arm to stabilize the right. She shook, her aim was uncertain, but she did not falter.

“You have ten seconds to flee,” she growled. “And pray that I miss.”

Something in her tone made him hesitate.

“ONE!” she yelled.

He turned and ran off.

She watched him wobble through the tall grass. She thought of living in fear. Of her home, burning. Of her girls, terrified.

She thought of Natane, kicked, curled on the ground. Victoria was strong, she was used to pain. Her Natane should never have to suffer this.

Her mental count reached ten. She aimed.

“Sebastian, you decide.”

And fired.

Jimmy Reynolds fell down. And stayed down.

She stood there, in the dark. She ran her thumb over the initials carved on the handle. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She walked back, unsteady, an ankle flaring in pain, her whole side on fire. Out of breath, coughing, she limped back.

On the road, a tall, dark silhouette was running her way. Victoria wanted to run too, but simply staying on her feet was torture.

Natane threw herself at her, clutched and did not let go. They remained like this for a long time, in silence, shaking. Victoria let herself be held. She did not have the strength to lift her own arms to hug back.

“It’s over,” whispered Victoria. “It’s over.”

Natane cradled her face, touched her cheeks, her hair, her shoulders. She was crying.

“I’m alright, my love. I dealt with him. He’s never going to hurt us, ever again.”

Natane, out of words, simply held her once more.

In her arms, bleeding, hurt, and victorious, Victoria finally figured out what she wanted.

“No one will ever hurt us again,” she repeated in a murmur. Her thumb caressed the initials carved on the handle of the gun. A promise to a dead man, to herself, and to the woman they both loved.

David rode up to them and let out a relieved shout. “Oh, thank God, thank God!”

Victoria tried to gather all the grace she could muster while hurt, bleeding, and dirty. “David, darling, could you get my horse, please?”

“Sure, Mrs.V. Just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

They waited, leaning on each other to stand upright. David returned on the cart, both his horse and Sir Isaac Newton tied behind it. They made their way back to camp, where Lisette and Siobhan threw themselves at Victoria and bawled in relief.

It was morning when they reached Swainsburg, but people were still milling around. Consuelo and Mrs.Jackson ran to meet them.

Victoria avoided the hugs. She walked, unsteady, about to fall from exhaustion. The townspeople parted to let her pass, until she stood in front of the brothel.

The fire had burned itself out, in the end. Only one wall was left standing. The roof had caved in, the structure a smoking wooden skeleton in the dawn.

She felt Lisette, Siobhan, and Consuelo join her. They held each other in silence.