Caroline Mundee and Hettie Rosenkrantz had very quickly established a routine of frosty avoidance while they both 'worked' the saloon in their own sweet, or not so sweet, way. But tonight Hettie was bored. Business was slack, very slack and her slug of red eye remained flat and dead at the bottom of her glass as she slouched on the bar, eying the joint for potential customers. She kept within the parameters of 'decorum' that Fortner had insisted upon: not because he had morals any better than a skunk's, but because his more legitimate employees wouldn't stand for any behaviour too outré by the women of ill repute who now haunted the establishment.
But when the saloon singer hovered near to her the next time, Mrs Rosenkrantz caught her attention.
"Hey!" she said, loud enough to not be ignored. "Can we call a truce for five minutes? I want to talk to you seriously about something." She smiled the first genuinely friendly smile she'd given the, to her mind, snooty blonde since the first time they'd met. "Don't worry... it won't make us friends or anything awful like that." she assured her.
"Lookie there, Frank. Yer girls aren't circulating much."
The speaker was Lucas Holland, one of the men guarding the mining engineers out at the old Potee place. He was in town to wet his whistle and run shoulders with the Stardust's proprietor.
Franklin Fortner looked over his shoulder at his "girls" and shrugged. "They deserve a break once and a while," he stated matter of factly. "Besides, they bring a lot of business into the place."
"Your the boss," Lucas opined.
Franklin shoved his empty shot glass toward the barkeep.
As nights went, this evening was proving to be a bit slow. Although the construction of the hospital for the town had brought workers in lately which added to the profits. Kind of made up for what Caroline had noticed the past few months were less Evergreen and Lost Lake ranch hands spending time at this watering hole. Must be the tension between the two ranches?
Anyhow with less customers this evening there wasn't as much need for the saloon girl to make her rounds about the room. Soon she was to get up on stage for a couple of song and dance numbers. Try as she did, without a piano player, it just didn't come off as well even with her good singing voice. But Caroline carried on.
"Hey!" Hettie said, loud enough to not be ignored. "Can we call a truce for five minutes? I want to talk to you seriously about something."
Caroline paused then turned slowly to look at the woman, "Truce? I did not even know we were at war?"
Hettie smiled, "Don't worry... it won't make us friends or anything awful like that." she assured her.
"Oh, I don't see us ever being friends so I'm not worried," Caroline smiled back, she could do the false friendliness as well as anyone, it was a necessary tool of her trade. Only Hettie wasn't a customer.
She gave the slightest of shrugs and moved closer to hear the woman out. It had to be some sort of trick she figured.
***
"Lookie there, Frank. Yer girls aren't circulating much."
Ralph was drying one of the shot glasses behind the bar and heard that, he didn't know the man who said it but he'd been hanging around lately and his boss, Fortner, knew him. He was tempted to speak up and tell the man there was only girl who worked the floor of this place - Caroline. The others were not even employees but whores. He had to admit so far none of them had caused any trouble.
It was annoying Fortner tolerated the man's assessment and made no attempt to correct him on it. But again Fortner was the boss, he could and say what he damn well pleased.
Franklin shoved his empty shot glass toward the barkeep. It proved to be an accurate glide across the smooth bartop and halted right in front of Ralph. Apparently Fortner wanted another round but couldn't even muster up the manners to ask. Ralph reached down for a bottle under the bar and poured the glass full. Then walked it the few steps to where Fortner was up against the bar and set it down.
"Here ya are. Yer welcome," his tone was dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, I don't see us ever being friends so I'm not worried," Caroline smiled back, she could do the false friendliness as well as anyone, it was a necessary tool of her trade. Only Hettie wasn't a customer.
"Hmph! Good!" replied Hettie, tersely. Somehow the two women were like two positive magnets that could not be brought together without repelling each other. The good-time-gal took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure. She nodded to the main part of the saloon, which was emptier than usual, and kind of subdued.
"Listen, I'm doing not doing this for your good, I'm doing it for mine: business is down, this place ain't the same since that poor little blind girl Frances got done over by that bastard and you lost your piana player. Believe me, fellers don't come in here for Ralph's friendly welcoming smile or Aunt Jemima's cooking, or even a paid for embrace from a beautiful woman like myself..." she was going to add that they DEFINITELY didn't come in to get swindled by that rat Fortner or his ghoulish sidekick Priest, but the former was a little too near her at the bar to say that out loud "... much as it pains me to say it, they come in for you and your annoying little songs."
"Well, I've been talking to a mutual acquaintance of ours... a Miss Mudd. I'd rather not explain the exact circumstances, but she's quite the little chatterbox, isn't she? And she happened to mention that it'll be quite a few weeks until Miss Grimes can return to work and when she does Ara's going to try and get her a more genteel job playing piano at the Theatre." Oh, 'Ara' was it now? "Anyhow... meanwhile, I happen to know a feller who can play pretty well... I mean he can read those funny little dots and everything... if you're interested in a, you know, stand in." She took a swig of her red eye. Being sort of helpful to Mundee was an aggravating activity.
"Listen, I'm doing not doing this for your good, I'm doing it for mine: business is down, this place ain't the same since that poor little blind girl Frances got done over by that bastard and you lost your piana player."
"Yeah, well, hardly her fault is it," Caroline was trying to figure out the angle here.
"Believe me, fellers don't come in here for Ralph's friendly welcoming smile or Aunt Jemima's cooking, or even a paid for embrace from a beautiful woman like myself..."... much as it pains me to say it, they come in for you and your annoying little songs."
"Guess I should take that as a compliment then?" the saloon singer smirked.
"Well, I've been talking to a mutual acquaintance of ours... a Miss Mudd." Hettie went on.
"Yeah, I know her, we're close friends. She used to play the piano here before Frances," Caroline pointed out.
"I'd rather not explain the exact circumstances, but she's quite the little chatterbox, isn't she? And she happened to mention that it'll be quite a few weeks until Miss Grimes can return to work and when she does Ara's going to try and get her a more genteel job playing piano at the Theatre."
Caroline frowned, "Oh she is , huh?"
"Anyhow... meanwhile, I happen to know a feller who can play pretty well... I mean he can read those funny little dots and everything... if you're interested in a, you know, stand in." She took a swig of her red eye.
"I see....and what are you asking in return for saving our business from goin' down the drain?" asked Caroline, there had to be a catch.
"I see....and what are you asking in return for saving our business from goin' down the drain?" asked Caroline, there had to be a catch.
"Nothing" shrugged Hettie. She could hardly blame the other woman for being suspicious of her motivations: she and Caroline hadn't seen eye to eye from day one; and Mrs Rosenkrantz's job was basically selling herself for filthy lucre: it would seem odd for her to do someone a favour out of the goodness of her own, presumably, black heart.
She pulled a face of saintly beatification and looked heavenward "Just think well of me, now and again, and perhaps remember me in your bedtime prayers" she joked sarcastically, doubting that Caroline prayed any more than she did.
"It's that big fat feller over there, the one being fleeced by Priest." she indicated with a nod of her head "He's called Fatty or Tubby or something... oh, Chubby, that was it. Chubby Cox. I should remember that, I've seen enough of them in my time." the woman of ill repute remembered soberly.
"Nothing," the woman flat out claimed. While Caroline would remain dubious for now she would accept it face value.
Hettie pulled a face of saintly beatification and looked heavenward "Just think well of me, now and again, and perhaps remember me in your bedtime prayers" she joked sarcastically.
That got a laugh from the saloon gal, "Me n' the Lord don't get along much for quite a few years now." She left it at that.
"It's that big fat feller over there, the one being fleeced by Priest." she indicated with a nod of her head "He's called Fatty or Tubby or something... oh, Chubby, that was it. Chubby Cox. I should remember that, I've seen enough of them in my time."
Caroline looked over at the table where Priest always sat, like it was his own little kingdom. She couldn't decide who she despised more, Fortner or Priest. Ugh. As for this Cox, she did not recall seeing the fellow before or at least had not chatted with him.
"Cox huh. Fine. I will go have a talk with him. See if he's interested in the job. And get him away from that bloodsucker over there," she made her opinion quite known about Priest.
With that she sashshayed on over and the timing was perfect too as this big fellow was just leaving the table, having lost yet another hand of cards to the old bastard. Caroline didn't know if Priest cheated at cards or not, didn't care to either. But he sure as hell didn't lose much or so she heard from customers.
"Hey there, hon! Hope you weren't gonna just leave? I'd like to just have a few words with ya. Don't worry, I ain't gonna bite. Just wanna ask ya a couple a questions and if yer kind enough ta answer...you can do whatever you like. Leave or maybe even.....buy me a drink?" she batted her eyes at that last part, her smile warm as a summer day.
Baby, I done got wise!
Well, that was Chubby finished. Cleaned out. He'd had a straight flush, but Priest had a royal flush in hand. He sighed as he pulled his considerable weight off of his chair, which creaked with a similar sigh, but one of relief. Oh well, maybe there was something in the old adage about 'unlucky in gambling, lucky in love' - the Stardust's gorgeous singer, Miss Caroline Mundee was heading straight in his direction! Or was she?! He looked behind him, nobody, she was heading for him. He took his hat off.
"Hey there, hon! Hope you weren't gonna just leave? I'd like to just have a few words with ya. Don't worry, I ain't gonna bite."
"Well, er, sure you can if you like, Miss! I mean talk, not bite. Unless you wanna... er.. I mean..." to say he was flustered was an understatement.
"Just wanna ask ya a couple a questions and if yer kind enough ta answer...you can do whatever you like."
"Er.. I can?!" He scratched his head: was this a dream? He frowned "Hold on... Waddya mean, do whatever I like?"
"Leave or maybe even.....buy me a drink?" she batted her eyes at that last part, her smile warm as a summer day.
Well, that was a fine choice! He reckoned he could do either of those things anyway without special permission. But she was so pretty he felt honoured to have been given even those mundane choices.
"Gosh, I'd love to buy you a drink Miss, but I'm afraid I find myself temporarily financially embarrassed." he blushed "I'm afraid a young lady by the name of the Queen of Diamonds cost me the last of my pocket change" he explained to this other lady in red.
"But I'll gladly answer any questions you might have, er, I'm Cox, Arthur Ivanhoe Cox, but most folks just call me Chubby." he introduced himself.
Address me as Hon. Hiram Priest, esq.
Hiram Priest, ex-Mayor, ex-Judge, lawyer and schemer, gathered his winnings at the expense of his new friend or rather, pigeon, in a neat pile. He then took out a small black book and, with a pencil, jotted down his total take. He keep masterful notes of every day's activity. His journals which filled a couple of steamer trunks would someday be used by western folk writers as the basis for plot twists and turns. It was a veritable windfall.
But he was not without a heart, and when he cupped his ear with his right hand he caught the conversation at a nearby table. It was his pigeon, the fellow he'd just wiped out,.. Tubby Cox?.. and the sweet saloon gal who obviously was trying to make time with him. Wait'll she gets a load of his name, he thought with amusement.
"Leave or maybe even.....buy me a drink?" she batted her eyes at that last part, her smile warm as a summer day.
"Gosh, I'd love to buy you a drink Miss, but I'm afraid I find myself temporarily financially embarrassed." he blushed "I'm afraid a young lady by the name of the Queen of Diamonds cost me the last of my pocket change" he explained to this other lady in red.
"But I'll gladly answer any questions you might have, er, I'm Cox, Arthur Ivanhoe Cox, but most folks just call me Chubby." he introduced himself.
Priest chuckled. Close, he opined.
"Hey Ralph," he called from his set place. "Here's a five spot," he said, holding up a Five-Dollar gold piece. "Get my friend over there anything to drink he wants. Will you, please?" He pointed at Chubby. After which he took his pencil and made a subtraction.
The big fella was all flustered and tongue tied at her attempt to engage in a bit of conversation. It was kind of cute really. Caroline was no fool, she knew she often had this sort of effect on customers. She was good at it and she employed it every chance she got. It was one of the tools of her trade.
"Gosh, I'd love to buy you a drink Miss, but I'm afraid I find myself temporarily financially embarrassed." he blushed "I'm afraid a young lady by the name of the Queen of Diamonds cost me the last of my pocket change" he explained to this other lady in red.
"Oh, that bad huh? Poor baby," she cooed sympathy.
"But I'll gladly answer any questions you might have, er, I'm Cox, Arthur Ivanhoe Cox, but most folks just call me Chubby." he introduced himself.
Before Caroline could say anything further, Priest spoke up.
"Hey Ralph," he called from his set place. "Here's a five spot," he said, holding up a Five-Dollar gold piece. "Get my friend over there anything to drink he wants. Will you, please?" He pointed at Chubby.
Ralph nodded, "Alright, got it."
Caroline blinked but kept facing Cox, "Hear that? The man who won all your money is letting you spend some it on yerself even. How generous of him"
She hadn't expected something like that out of Priest but if the man thought that would change her opinion of him, that wasn't going to happen. She would never forget what they did to Poteet and the death of the man's wife that followed.
"Now....about that name - I just love the name of Ivanhoe! You should make more use a that one. You know Ivanhoe lived around the time of Joan of Arc, the famous saint. Only he was English and Joan she was French."
Needless to say Caroline's grasp of history was a bit shaky.
"Anyhow nice ta meet ya.............Ivanhoe," she beamed, "I'm Caroline Mundee. You can call me Caroline or even Cara if ya want."
"Let's take a seat here," she pointed to an empty table and they sat.
Or rather he sat, she remained standing, "Now, stay put. What do ya want ta drink? I'll go get it for ya and since you were eager to buy me one, I'll help myself to one also. Then we can sip our drinks and have us a little talk."