"I was born the day after Valentine's, but I don't guess I'll ever find a valentine of my own."
It was late, and the brothel was winding down for the night. Not that it ever truly closed, but things had been slow since Annie's death at the hands of The Strangler a day or so before, as some people were calling whoever had killed her. Rumors spread fast, and now people were creating a phantom killer out of thin air. Well, not purely from thin air. There had been two stranglings, but there was no way they were connected...surely.
Tilly didn't like to give in to silly rumors, but she did like to be safe. So she hadn't gone out after dark since Annie's death. Not that she normally went out anyway, but she was more cautious about her trips to the outhouse and found herself double-checking the locks on all the doors.
Now she stood outside Hettie's door, curling her bare toes underneath her and crossing her arms to keep warm. Her flimsy negligee robe was just for show, and did nothing at all to ward off the chilly air. Tilly worked up her courage and knocked. "Hettie?" she called softly. She wasn't sure exactly why she was here, but she didn't want to stay alone in her room any more.
The Hettie who opened her door to the quiet entreaty was ready for bed; oddly, without the paint and the silk, face scrubbed and heavy nightie on against the chill Montana night-air that rolled off own the mountains to the West, her copper coloured hair streaming loose, richer than any metal from Guyer's mines, she looked younger than her 31 years. She held out her arms with a sympathetic "C'mere you."
Despite the sapphic nature of Tilly's 'audition' for the more experienced whore, and some of the disgraceful things they had to do together at the behest of some of the higher paying and more perverted customers: those Johns who were willing to pay top dollar for two girls to put on a little show for them, Tilly and Hettie's relationship was more like that of an older and younger sister, although, out of habit, sometimes the lines did blur. There was no love to be had with a man for these girls.
In a more hard-headed way, Hettie appreciated Tilly as a co-worker, too. Unlike Annie, Tilly was a good actress, and could throw herself into a part like she herself could. Hettie was also, and always would be, in awe of the Burk girl's ethereal beauty. It was awful, and she felt guilty about it, and pushed the idea to the back of her mind... but she was sorta glad that it was miserable ol' Annie who'd copped it tonight and not Tilly.
She clasped the other working girl to her capacious bosom.
"Hey, no need to be scared, Angel: Lars has locked the place up tonight about 20 times over; he's bolted bolts and locked locks we didn't even know we had." Hettie cooed in Tilly's ear.
"I was born the day after Valentine's, but I don't guess I'll ever find a valentine of my own."
As Tilly melted into Hettie's arms with a sigh, her russet, reddish brown hair mixed with Hettie's bright copper hair. Tilly basked in the warmth from Hettie's embrace and the comfort in her arms until Hettie whispered, "Hey, no need to be scared, Angel: Lars has locked the place up tonight about 20 times over; he's bolted bolts and locked locks we didn't even know we had."
Tilly stiffened. "I didn't say I was scared. I just wanted to say good night." She kept her head pressed against Hettie's shoulder. As with any sisterly or sister-like relationship, she didn't want Hettie to know she really was scared. But Hettie probably knew anyway. Suddenly Tilly wondered if Hettie was scared, too, and was trying to reassure the both of them.
She raised her head. "Are you scared?" she asked, puckering her eyebrows as she tried to decipher the look on Hettie's face. Hettie was good at hiding her true feelings; they all were. But Hettie was even better than Tilly.
Tilly stiffened. "I didn't say I was scared. I just wanted to say good night."
"Oh! ... of course." Hettie said gently.
She raised her head. "Are you scared?" she asked, puckering her eyebrows as she tried to decipher the look on Hettie's face. Hettie was good at hiding her true feelings; they all were. But Hettie was even better than Tilly.
Hettie kissed the top of Tilly's head before she answered.
"Angel, I'm petrified." she admitted "After what happened tonight, I'd have to be a marble statue not to be petrified, and so would you."
She released the other girl and looked at her, and even under these terrible circumstances was struck by the young woman's incredible beauty - and how wasted it was here - and how almost, no not almost, how totally privileged she was to look upon it every day over the breakfast table, while making the beds, washing the dishes together, in fact in all their little domestic family moments together. It should be immortalized somehow. In fact, she meant, before all this blew up, to ask that odd girl Arabella Mudd to make a photographic plate of her.
"Say, Till, you'll think I'm just a big scaredy-cat, but I don't suppose you'd sleep with me tonight... I'd feel a whole lot less scared." she asked with an understanding little smile.
"I was born the day after Valentine's, but I don't guess I'll ever find a valentine of my own."
Tilly's instinct had been right -- Hettie was scared. The younger woman felt a bit of relief in knowing that she wasn't the only one shaken by the evening's events. But then, how could you not be shaken? The memory of Annie's naked body sprawled on the floor as though someone had killed her for the sole purpose of spreading her out like some gruesome piece of art was horrific.
And the thought that she or Hettie might be next even more so.
Tilly grabbed Hettie's hand impulsively. "Of course I'll sleep with you. I wouldn't want you to be alone tonight." She threaded her fingers through Hettie's and said softly, "And I don't really want to be alone tonight, either." That was the closest she would come to admitting to being scared right now. Having Hettie close to her through the night would make all the difference in allaying any fears of stranglers sneaking in the window.
With the invitation to spend the night with Hettie gained, Tilly wandered over to the bed, pulling Hettie along with her. "I know I should go to sleep, but I've got all this energy. Do you want to sit up and talk for a little while?"
With the invitation to spend the night with Hettie gained, Tilly wandered over to the bed, pulling Hettie along with her. "I know I should go to sleep, but I've got all this energy. Do you want to sit up and talk for a little while?"
"Feels like a funny time to do it but..." the two sat down on the bed "... I do need to talk to you about something,... Mathilda."
Hettie never called Tilly by her full name.
"I think this has shaken Sally... badly. And there's a feller in town called Buller. Colonel Buller, though he's no more a Colonel than you or me, Till. He runs a whorehouse in Bozeman, and runs it with a pretty mean hand by all accounts. I reckon he's sniffin' around here with a mind to either open up a rival place or taking over here: make Sally an offer and buy her out. If that happens, our life won't be worth living..."
She had inadvertently started stroking Tilly's hair soothingly as she imparted this rather alarming news.
"... we can't buy her out, we need to find someone more... hmm, acceptable than Colonel Buller. I reckon the two of us should take a buggy ride out to Steelgrave's place tomorrow."
"I was born the day after Valentine's, but I don't guess I'll ever find a valentine of my own."
Tilly, who had settled onto her side on the bed, blinked and propped herself up on one elbow when Hettie used her full name. She was in for a serious conversation, it seemed. She laid back, watching Hettie's face as the other woman stroked her hair and told her about whoever this Colonel Buller was.
She swallowed nervously at the news Hettie imparted and scooted closer to her adopted older sister. Being bought out by someone with money seemed like it would be a good thing, but this man sounded horrid. "You mean he mistreats his whores? Or he's just stingy with money?"
Management styles differed wildly across the country, and she'd always tried to find places where the girls were taken care of well. Like this one. Sally did the best she could to take care of her girls, and they all looked out for each other. At least they had until tonight.
"We're going to go out to the Evergreen? What are we going to do?" she asked dubiously. Having had some experience with some of the Evergreen hands, she wasn't sure she wanted to voluntarily go out to the ranch. At least here Lars was always ready to toss out anyone who got too extremely rough. But out there...what if she and Hettie never came back?
"You mean he mistreats his whores? Or he's just stingy with money?"
"I mean he beats his girls for fun. And worse. His place is like a prison. We don't... we can't end up under Buller's management" Hettie said in a quiet, serious voice. "So... tomorrow..."
"We're going to go out to the Evergreen?"
"Uh-huh"
" What are we going to do?" she asked dubiously.
"We're going to make Steelgrave a business proposition." Hettie announced with, perhaps, a little more confidence in her voice than she actually felt.
"I could go on my own, of course, but..." Hettie twirled one of Tilly's locks, lighter and finer than her own, round a finger "... I want us to manage this place as partners. And I don't mind admitting, I think your looks might sway him: just a little!" She mussed up the other girl's hair as she said this last part.
She sighed. Sad that it had taken Annie's murder to push her into actually doing what she had been thinking of for sometime.
"Well?"
"I was born the day after Valentine's, but I don't guess I'll ever find a valentine of my own."
Tilly knew that sometimes Hettie Rosenkrantz could be capricious, sometimes even downright mean. Was this perhaps just a prank? But, no, the titan-haired tart had always treated her well. This was serious, as serious as Annie's death. Tilly couldn't help but be flattered by Hettie's words, and let her mind drift away to the possibility offered by what Hettie was thinking of trying to do. Mathilda Burk, partner in her own brothel? It seemed crazy to the girl who'd been thrown out of her home with nothing. And yet, like Hettie said, letting Buller have his way with them and the rest of the girls was unthinkable.
She sat up and leaned in to plant an impulsive kiss on Hettie's cheek, then pulled back to lock eyes with the other woman. "If you want me by your side, I'll be there, Hettie. We'll do this together." There was still a current of fear that raced through her mind at the thought of facing the infamous Elias Steelgrave, but she tried to put her fear aside. Steelgrave was a man, and she knew how to deal with men. Right? Right.
"Guess I oughtta wear that pretty pink thing Pettigrew made tomorrow, huh?" The thought brightened her spirits a bit. She always liked to imagine that she made every man weak in the knees as she descended the stairs or passed people in the streets wearing that dress. If she could make Elias Steelgrave go weak in the knees, what a feat that would be! She and Hettie had no way of knowing that it wasn't Elias's knees he needed to worry about at the moment, it was his heart.
"I was born the day after Valentine's, but I don't guess I'll ever find a valentine of my own."
Tilly gazed out at the scenery as they rode along, watching the trees and bushes go slowly by. There wasn't much to look at. Everything still looked faintly gloomy without the leaves that would start budding soon. But still, she didn't get out of town much, and the wide open spaces were always invigorating to her.
The change of scenery wasn't enough to keep her nerves in check, though. She and Hettie didn't know what they were walking into, and that worried her. She unconsciously started jiggling her foot, and didn't stop until Hettie spoke to her.
"Hm?" Tilly glanced over at Hettie and shrugged, trying to mask her worry. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, what if Steelgrave won't see us?"
There were many more "what ifs" she could think of, but that was chief in her mind at the moment. If Elias refused to see them and Hettie's hunch was right, they'd be condemned to Buller's sadistic whims before they knew it. Sally didn't seem like she had the gumption to stand up to someone as powerful as Buller sounded.