Authors: Karen Witemeyer
Levi craned his neck. A window above him had been propped open, and sounds filtered down to him. Shuffling. Scraping. What could have been drawers slammed shut. Then, after one particularly loud bang, a woman’s voice pierced the quiet of the alley.
“Get out! I ain’t servicin’ you.”
Deep masculine tones vibrated in answer, but the man spoke too low for Levi to make out his words.
“I don’t care what he promised you or how much you paid. I ain’t no whore!”
Something crashed.
“Stop! I work in the kitchen. Leave me alone!”
Levi shoved his hat onto his head and leapt for the rope to scale the wall. But before he could fully plant his feet, a metallic clank echoed like a strike from one of his hammers, followed by a dull thud.
Did he hit her?
Levi scrambled, straining against the rope as he hoisted his large frame toward the window. A third of the way there, he glanced up in time to see a petite pair of arms shove something through the opening. He barely had time to turn his face before a gunnysack plowed into him, knocking his hat from his head and his feet from the wall as he instinctively twisted to protect himself from the blow.
Then, as he dangled midair, curling his biceps to keep himself from slipping, a stocking-clad leg thrust out of the window, followed by more feminine parts encased in white petticoats.
Apparently the woman was alive and well.
Not wanting to frighten her, Levi dropped to the ground on quiet feet, collected his hat, and waited. If what he overheard was accurate, the gal had gotten herself into quite a pickle. If she’d let him, maybe he could find a way to help her. If not, well . . . at least he’d make sure she didn’t fall on her backside as she navigated her way down.
She grunted and groaned but made good progress. Levi picked up her bag and positioned himself in the middle of the alley so as not to jump out at her from the shadows. When her feet finally hit the ground, she swiveled from side to side, looking for her belongings.
Levi held his arms out wide and tried to make himself appear as nonthreatening as possible. Not an easy task for a mountain-sized ex-prizefighter.
“I’ve got it, ma’am.”
She gasped and braced her back against the saloon wall. Her attention darted to the bag, to him, to the end of the alley, and back to the bag.
Afraid she’d try to make a run for it before he could assure her that he meant no harm, he set the bag down in front of him and stepped back. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’d like to help if you’d let me.”
The woman was a mere girl. A tiny little thing with big eyes suspended in a face as pale as the moon. Well, pale except for the reddened portion along her jaw.
Slowly, her shock gave way to determination as she eyed her bag. She lifted her gaze to him once again and straightened away from the wall just a bit. “You drunk?”
Levi shook his head. “Nope.”
She leaned forward and sniffed. He fought the urge to smile.
The girl slid a step closer. “Whatcha doin’ in the alley?”
“Praying.”
Her face scrunched in disbelief, and she eyed him as if worried about his mental stability.
He couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Odd, I know.” Keeping his arms out wide, he shrugged. “I thought I wanted what the Hang Dog offered, but at the la . . . final minute, I remembered all the trouble that kind of help can lead to. Thought I’d be better off trying God.”
“Mister, I lived in saloons my whole life, and you’re the first feller I met who ever figgered that out. Don’t know much about the God part, but I seen enough trouble over liquor, cards, and women to—”
A masculine moan echoed from above, cutting her off. The girl must have hit her assailant pretty hard to have knocked him out for so long.
She darted a glance up at the window. “Crikey! I gotta git.”
She grabbed the gunnysack and dashed away from Levi. Not wanting to leave her unprotected, he followed. After rounding the corner of the saloon, she halted at the edge of the side street and twisted her head from left to right as if trying to determine which route would prove safest.
“You got a location in mind?”
The girl shot a glare at him over her shoulder. “Away,” she snapped before turning back toward the street. “Now leave me alone, mister. I ain’t your problem.”
Yet Levi couldn’t shake the feeling that she was.
“I know people who would take you in. The wife of the town preacher would—”
“I ain’t going to no church lady’s house! All that holier-than-thou snubbin’? No thanks! I’d be better off hidin’ out in a barn somewhere.”
Levi wanted to argue, to explain that Emma Cranford was not that way at all. If she could host a man like him in her parlor, she could handle a runaway saloon dweller with grace, too. But he knew it’d do no good. The gal was scared and fixin’ to dart into the night if he didn’t come up with another idea, and quick.
“What about a library lady?” The words slipped out before the idea had fully formed.
The girl’s head swiveled so fast, he thought it might detach from her neck. “You know Miss Spencer?” Her face was a mask as she spoke, but even in the darkness, Levi could make out the longing in her gaze.
“Yep.” He prayed he wasn’t making trouble for Eden by bringing her into the situation, but knowing how she felt about children, he figured she’d be willing to help.
“I done heard about them stories she tells the school kids. You think she would let me—”
The sound of a man yelling shot panic into the girl’s eyes. She flattened herself against the side wall and slowly peeked around the corner. Jerking her head back, she panted like a trapped animal. Thinking to put himself between her and what threatened her, as well as hoping to catch a glimpse of the man responsible for her fear, Levi strode forward. Before he could angle himself around the corner, though, the girl threw her puny strength against him.
“Don’t!” she hissed. “He’ll see ya.”
Levi resisted at first, but then her voice lost its toughness and took on a childlike pleading. “Please, mister.”
He complied, shifting his stance to merge again with the shadows.
She stole another glance around the side of the building, and this time her shoulders sagged with relief when she returned to her place. “He’s leaving.”
“You made up your mind yet on where to go?”
She met his gaze. “I reckon I’ll give the library a try.”
A tapping from outside roused Eden from her doze. She startled awake. The book she’d been reading dropped to the floor. Blinking, she took stock of her surroundings and tried to recall what had awakened her.
Another tap, louder this time, carried to her from the front door. She slid her feet into a pair of house shoes, checked to make sure her wrapper was properly done up, shuffled to the front room, and parted the curtains to peer out.
Levi?
She couldn’t make out his features, but no one else in town stood so tall and broad. It had to be him. What was he doing at her door so late in the evening?
Eden moved from the window and made her way down the hall to unlatch the door. “Levi, why are you—”
Her throat suddenly closed in on itself as she discovered he was not alone. What was he doing with a girl? Especially one so young and pretty?
“Can we come in?” Levi asked in a low voice.
“I’m not exactly dressed for company, Mr. Grant.”
She watched his gaze travel over her, lingering on her hair. Only then did she remember that it hung free, nearly to her waist. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he stared. The warmth in his eyes soothed her in a way words could not.
Eden pulled the door wide and showed them to her personal parlor.
“Why don’t you have a seat, Miss . . . ?”
“It’s Chloe, ma’am. Just Chloe. Ain’t got no last name.” She spoke the shocking statement with bland acceptance as if such a thing were of no consequence, then lowered herself onto the sofa. Chloe settled the sack she carried on her lap, hugging it to her chest as if it were a toddler in danger of crawling away.
“A pleasure to meet you, Chloe. I’m Eden.” Somehow it didn’t seem right to introduce herself with her surname when the poor child didn’t have one of her own to offer. “If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I need to have a word with Mr. Grant.”
The girl nodded and squeezed the bag more tightly as her wide-eyed gaze darted around the room.
Eden led Levi out into the hall. “What is going on?” she whispered.
“I’m hoping you can help her.” Levi rubbed a spot on his chest and dipped his chin to avoid looking at her face. “The kid . . . had nowhere to go.”
“Where did she come from?”
“The Hang Dog. Found her climbing out a window.”
“The Hang Dog? You brought a girl from the saloon into my house? How could you? She has to leave.” Eden took a step toward the parlor, but Levi’s large hand closed around her wrist. Gently, but with enough power to bring her to a halt.
“Hold up there.” He looked her full in the face now, and the plea she read in his eyes softened her heart. She ceased pulling against his hold.
He stroked the tender skin on the underside of her arm. “Hear me out, will you?”
She hesitated a second, then nodded.
Levi released his grip on her arm and let out a heavy breath. “From what I can gather, the girl worked in the kitchen, not in . . . uh . . . entertaining. Until tonight, when a man paid to . . . break her in.”
Eden covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head in denial. Chloe couldn’t be more than fifteen. What kind of animal would put a price on her innocence?
“Chloe fought him off, though,” Levi continued. “Knocked him out and climbed through the window. I tried to . . . get her to go with me to . . . talk to Dave and Emma Cranford, but the girl wanted nothing to do with them. I worried about her bolting. I told her I knew you, and . . . now we’re here.”
She could hear the unasked question. Would she take Chloe in?
Her heart ached for the girl, it truly did, but opening her home to a young woman who made her living in a saloon? Unthinkable. “I can put together some food and rent her a room in the hotel for the night. I’ll give you the funds to buy her a ticket on the morning train to wherever she wants to go. She can make a fresh start in a new town.” Pleased with her solution, Eden relaxed.
However, Levi didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the suggestion. The way his mouth turned down made Eden’s stomach clench.
“A new town won’t fix the problem,” he rasped. “Without a job or family, you know where the girl will end up.”
“But what will people think, Levi?” Eden crossed her arms over her churning stomach. “I have my reputation to consider.”
As soon as the words passed her lips, her mind flew back to her conversation with the sheriff. He’d claimed reputation was everything, and she’d belittled him for such a superficial attitude. And here she was doing the same thing.
Levi peered into her eyes for several seconds, his disappointment in her palpable. “You can’t control what people think, Eden. You can only control how you live. Do you live to protect your reputation—or to care for a child in need?”
Eden bit her lip and turned her face toward the wall to hide the tears welling in her eyes. He was right. So right. Jesus asked his followers to deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow him; to present themselves as living sacrifices. Putting Chloe on a train might have soothed her conscience at first, but not now. Not when her soul was convicting her that it was time to deny herself and act sacrificially.
“She can stay,” Eden whispered to the wall.
“What?”
She sniffed and looked to the ceiling for a moment to push the moisture away from her eyes, then turned to face Levi. Clearing her throat, she met his gaze and spoke with conviction. “She can stay.”
The knot in Levi’s gut uncoiled at Eden’s concession. He touched her shoulder. “Thank you.”
She gave a jerky little nod, then turned and pulled away. The tears in her eyes had not escaped his notice, and he questioned the rightness of pushing her to take Chloe in. A woman’s reputation was nothing to trifle with, and Eden had reason to be concerned. But surely her standing in the community would overshadow the girl’s unfortunate upbringing. In fact, having Eden as her champion could open a new world to Chloe, a world of respectability and perhaps even faith.
However, as Levi followed Eden back into the parlor, a troubling thought took hold. Had he been pushing strictly for Chloe’s sake, or had he been paving his own road to acceptance? His brow furrowed. When Eden suggested sending Chloe away, the first thought that flashed through his mind had not pertained to the girl’s welfare. No, he had speculated on the likelihood of Eden sending
him
away when she learned of his own shameful past. Convincing her to open her heart to Chloe could make it that much easier for her to open her heart to him.
Yet at the same time, he knew Chloe’s arrival on the heels of his vow to the Lord had not been coincidence. God had used his presence in that alley for Chloe’s good. He was sure of it. Bringing her to Eden was the right thing to do. He just had to be careful not to stir his personal motives into the mix.
When they crossed the threshold into the parlor, Chloe jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry, Miss Spencer. I never shoulda let him talk me into coming here. A girl like me ain’t fit company for a fine lady.”
Levi stopped in the doorway, blocking the exit with his bulk. The kid had that bolting look about her again.
Eden took a more direct approach. She hurried to Chloe’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Well, I’m not sorry at all that you came. In fact, I believe Mr. Grant did us both a favor by bringing you here.” Eden glanced back at him. Her lashes dipped shyly as if in apology for her earlier reluctance, but the sincerity shining in her eyes made him proud of her in a way that went beyond simple admiration.
“You’d . . . you’d let me stay?” Chloe asked, incredulity written on her face.
Eden smiled at her. “Yes.”
Chloe tossed her bag onto the sofa and swiveled out of Eden’s hold in order to face her squarely. “I ain’t no loafer. If I stay with you, I’ll earn my keep.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Eden succeeded in keeping her face straight, but Levi could hear the smile in her voice. “Mr. Grant tells me that you have experience in kitchen work. Is that correct?”
“Yes’m. I mostly scrubbed pots and pans at the Hang Dog, but I can throw a meal together when it’s called for. I’m real good with eggs. Old Nell couldn’t stomach cookin’ when she was hung over, so I handled breakfast for anyone who managed to get outta bed afore noon. It was usually just me and Roy, the barkeep, but he never complained ’bout my eggs and coffee. ’Course he’s sweet on Mama, so he might not a said nothin’ on her account.”
“Your mother works at the saloon?”
Levi had started walking toward a chair but stopped at the tightness in Eden’s voice. Chloe picked up on it, too, for she crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw.
“That make a difference?” the girl challenged. “It ain’t too late for you to change your mind. She’s done her best by me, and I ain’t ashamed to claim her. If you got a problem with that, say so now.”
“Calm down, kid,” Levi said, trying to ease the growing tension in the room. “Give her a minute to take it in.”
Eden bit her lip but held firm to her determination. “I’d never ask you to disown your mother, Chloe. I apologize if I gave you that impression. I guess I just assumed you were on your own. Hearing about your mother caught me off guard. Nevertheless, if you are interested in staying, you’d be welcome here.”
Chloe uncrossed her arms, though her eyes remained wary. “All right, so long as we’re clear.” Her chin dropped as she scuffed the toe of her shoe against the rug. “Sorry I snapped at you.”
Levi looked from one female to the other. “You two going to be all right?”
Eden kept her focus on Chloe while she answered him. “We’ll be fine. We just need some time to get to know one another—that’s all.”
Chloe offered no disagreement.
“Good. I’ll be on my way, then.”
Eden finally looked his direction and he gave her a teasing wink. “Wouldn’t want to . . . mar the reputation of . . . the two of you by lingering too long after dark.”
A smile tugged the corners of Eden’s mouth upward, and Levi’s pulse responded. Now that Chloe was safely transferred into her care, he was having a hard time keeping his mind off the fact that Eden looked even better with her hair down than he’d imagined. And when he passed the reading room on his way out and caught sight of a book lying half open against the leg of his chair as if it had just toppled to the floor, he picked up his pace to the door.
A man could handle only so much evidence of his fantasy being reality without wanting to bring the rest of it to life, as well.
After Levi left, Eden ushered Chloe upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms. She had to admit, the girl didn’t look like what she would’ve expected from one who lived in a saloon. Her dress was plain and prim, an ordinary gray muslin buttoned clear to her neck. No unseemly flesh on display, no flashy colors to attract a man’s attention. The girl’s face was clean of all cosmetics, and Eden couldn’t smell any evidence of perfume as she leaned close to help her unpack her bag.
“So, how old are you, Chloe?” Eden shook out a petticoat and folded it against her chest.
“Sixteen.”
Eden paused for a moment, then opened a drawer in the bureau and laid the petticoat inside. “I would have guessed younger.”
“That’s because of Mama’s disguise.” Chloe undid a few buttons on her dress to reveal a tight binding around her breasts, then fastened the dress closed again. “This and my drab clothes usually kept men from noticin’. Although Mama warned me never to let myself be caught alone with a man, ’cause some liked ’em young and wouldn’t care about my lack of experience.”
Chloe spoke with such nonchalance, as if protecting herself from vile advances were an everyday occurrence. Of course, in her world, it probably was. Eden bit back a moan and turned away from the girl, ostensibly to lay out a nightdress upon the bed, but in reality she hoped to hide her pity. How could the Lord allow an innocent child to grow up in such a place? She thanked God that Levi had convinced her to take Chloe in. The child deserved a place to sleep where she could be safe, where she could learn the ways of womanhood without worrying that some inebriated cowboy would manhandle her.
“We planned to leave Spencer soon,” Chloe said, drawing Eden’s attention. “Mama knew I was gettin’ too old to hide in the kitchen much longer. We was gonna take the train and act like we didn’t know each other so that I would be free to look for work in a café or restaurant somewheres. I guess we waited a little too long.”
Eden sat on the edge of the bed and peered up at the girl. “What happened?”
“Bad timing.” Chloe shrugged. “I know better than to go into the main room after dark, but Old Nell’s bottle run out, and she sent me to fetch another from Roy. Mr. Salazar, the owner, was hobnobbin’ with some gent at his special table in the corner. I saw the man in the Hang Dog afore, but never upstairs, so I didn’t think much of it when I caught ’im looking at me.”
Chloe dumped the last of her belongings onto the bed beside Eden. A brush tumbled out along with a deck of playing cards. She took up the cards, slid them out of their box, and began manipulating them as if they were an extension of her hands. Chloe’s gaze fixed itself somewhere on the wall above the bureau as she lowered herself to the corner of the bed. But even without her attention, the cards danced in and out of her fingers like drilling soldiers responding to her silent command. Not a single one stepped out of formation.
Eden didn’t hold with gambling and card playing, especially for a young lady, but the shuffling action seemed to soothe Chloe, and heaven knew the child deserved some soothing after all she had been through.
“Mr. Salazar found me in the kitchen a few minutes later,” Chloe continued, her voice small and sounding far away. “He told me to go up to my room but not to lock the door. His friend wanted to visit me. Just to talk, he said. But I knew different. A man’s got more on his mind than talkin’ when he comes to a gal’s room.”
Eden’s heart cringed. Letting instinct guide her, she picked up the brush that lay on the bed between them and scooted closer to Chloe.
“I told ’im I wouldn’t let his friend in my room. Mr. Salazar said I would or he’d make things hard on my ma.”
Eden untied the ribbon at Chloe’s neck and pulled the brush through a few strands. The girl stiffened at her touch at first, then seemed to relax. She even turned her back to allow Eden greater access as she resumed her tale.
“I knew what to do then. Mama and I’d worked it all out. I was never to give in to threats, Mama said. No matter what. That’s how they control you, and she made me promise to never let no man control me. So I went up to my room and locked the door. Then I got the rope I kept under my bed, tied it to the bedpost, and let it down out the window. I threw my stuff in a sack and was ready to go when the man showed up. Salazar’d given him a key.”
This Salazar person should be horsewhipped, Eden decided. He and his friend. Maybe it was time for the Ladies Aid Society to take a more active role in ridding Spencer of its more unsavory element. She’d have to bring up the suggestion at the next meeting.
“How did you escape?” Eden had already worked through all the tangles in the girl’s hair, but she kept stroking, hoping it would help Chloe feel safe.
“I yelled at him to get out, but he forced his way in. Said he’d paid for my time. He hit me.” She hunched her shoulder up toward her jaw, and Eden saw the beginnings of a bruise near her chin. “But I was ready for him. I clobbered him over the head and knocked him out cold.”
The brush stilled in Eden’s hand. “You knocked him out?” The girl was smaller than she was, no match for a full-grown man. “What on earth did you hit him with?”
Chloe glanced over her shoulder, a smirk quirking her lips. “A chamber pot.”
“A chamber . . .” A giggle rose up in Eden. She tried to hold it in, but it erupted out her nose. Chloe chuckled at the indelicate snort, and soon both of them were laughing so hard their eyes watered. The release was heavenly.
“Oh, Chloe,” Eden said as she wiped at her eyes and struggled to catch her breath. “I think I’m going to like having you here.”