Prisoners of Love: Cinnamon Page 9
The walk home didn’t take long, but he frowned as he turned the corner of the church and headed to his house. Since it was well past seven in the evening, and Mindy should have been waiting for him, he was surprised to see no lights. His concern increased when he opened the front door and smelled something burning.
He lit a oil lamp by the door and carried it to the kitchen, where he lit another lamp and pulled a pot of scorched food from the stove. Where was Mindy?
Placing his hands on his hips, he surveyed the room. Everything looked normal. Once he entered the bedroom, he knew something serious had happened. Things were missing from the top of the dresser, and from underneath the bed. He opened the wardrobe and all of her dresses were gone.
His heart began to thump, and his stomach muscles knotted. He returned to the parlor and then he saw the piece of paper lying on the table. In the scant light it looked like her wedding ring sitting on top of it. Next to the note was Mindy’s bible.
With shaky hands, he opened the paper and read.
She was gone.
He collapsed into a chair and placed his hands on both sides of his head. What the devil had happened? And why did she all of a sudden feel as though their marriage wouldn’t work out? He ran his palm down his face and tried to calm himself enough to think. There was only one place Mindy would go. Back to Dodge City.
He checked the small china bowl on top of the dish closet in the kitchen, and counted the money. Enough was missing that she could have bought either a train or stage coach ticket.
Mindy, my love, what were you thinking?
Of course, he had to go after her. But first he intended to get to the bottom of this. Since the next day was Sunday, he would conduct his service, and then Monday he would catch the eight o’clock in the morning stage coach, or the noon train, which would get him into Dodge City around eight at night.
There was no doubt in his mind where he would start to get answers to this puzzle. Clutching the paper in his hand, he strode out the door, across the street, directly to Mrs. Peterson’s house.
***
After a long day of traveling, Mindy clutched the handle of her suitcase and stared at the faded sign on the building where she’d been raised, ‘Miss Pennyworth’s Pleasure Palace.’
Home, sweet, home.
She pushed open the back door of the building and entered the kitchen. It looked the same, smelled the same. Three women sat at the table, obviously getting ready for the night’s work. “Miss Mindy, what are you doin’ here? I thought you moved to Colorado with that preacher husband?” Aggie Smith, one of the ‘girls’ who had helped raise her, held a cup of coffee between her hands.
“Yeah, well, that didn’t work out.” She slumped into one of the chairs.
Aggie’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re lookin’ to work here? None of us is wanting to compete with no pretty young face like yours.”
Mindy shook her head. “No. I just want to see if my ma can put me up for a few days until I can get my old saloon job back. Or another one if I’m still not wanted there.” She looked around. “Anyone know where Ma is?”
“She ain’t come down for supper yet. Probably still up in her room.”
Mindy picked up the suitcase. “I might as well get this over with.” She took the back stairs to the third level where the girls slept when not on duty. The second floor’s bedrooms were all for ‘business.’
She knocked briefly. “Yeah?”
The room smelled the way she’d always remembered. Stale tobacco and whiskey. Her mother sat at her dressing table, putting on the face paint that she hoped would hide all the wear and tear her face had suffered over the years. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hi, Ma. It’s nice to see you, too.”
Ma shrugged. “I thought you hied off with your nose in the air to some new life with the preacher boy.”
“It didn’t work out. I guess you were right.” She twisted a piece of hair as she watched her mother, wishing once again she was different. Wishing Ma had a real life, a husband, a home. Went to church on Sundays.
The building would probably collapse on her head.
“Dammit, girl, you know I was right. You ain’t never accepted your place in life, Cinnamon.”
“Ma, you would think you’d want better for your daughter.” She sighed. “And don’t call me Cinnamon.”
The woman spun around in the chair. “Honey, there ain’t no reason to wish for better. Better don’t follow people like us.” She turned back and regarded her through the mirror as she painted kohl on her eyes. “You go see Miss Pennyworth. She’ll give you a place. Even though the others don’t want to admit it, we’re getting old. There’s fewer and fewer men looking for a tumble with us. They want new girls.” She dropped the kohl pencil and smiled. “You’d make yourself a good bit of money. Maybe one day open your own place.” She winked.
Mindy swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat. “No, Ma. I don’t want to be a whore.”
Her mama shrugged again. “Suit yourself. Just keep chasing them dreams. Cause that’s all they are, girl. Dreams.”
“Can I stay here for a few days until I get a job?”
She traced her lips with a red pencil, then leaned back, checking in the mirror, moving her head right, then left. “Don’t make me no never mind. You can curl up on the floor again. Just don’t go gettin’ in my way.” She looked at her through the mirror. “And don’t you go preaching at me, or you’ll find your sorry ass out on the street.”
“I left my bible in Colorado.”
“Good. Don’t need no one sprouting that stuff around here. Bad for business.” Once more she became interested in finishing her make up. “Well, go ahead and drop your things. If the Lady Gay won’t take you on again, there’s a new place two blocks up, The Long Branch Saloon. You might want to try there.”
“Thanks, Ma.” As Mindy turned to leave the room, her ma called her back. “What?”
Ma looked at her through the mirror, an expression on her face Mindy had never seen before. “I’m real sorry it didn’t work out, Mindy. I was wrong to suggest you get a job here. You’re a good girl, and I believe you will have a better life one day.”
Mindy’s jaw dropped. “For real?”
Her ma almost looked embarrassed at having said something nice. “Yeah, for real. Then you can take care of your old mother when she needs to retire.”
Mindy raised her chin in the air. “I will take care of you, Mama.”
“You probably would. You were always a fool.” She turned back to the mirror and continued with her makeup.
The Lady Gay also looked and smelled the same. Same stinky cowboys drinking up a storm, same bartender wiping the bar with a dirty cloth. Her former co-worker, Marina, still dodged eager hands while serving drinks. A new girl, her face flushed, seemed to be having a hard time handling the drinks and the customers. She looked about ready to drop her tray and run. Maybe Mindy could get her old job back.
“Well, well, look who’s back here. If it ain’t the former jailbird and preacher’s wife.” Silas, the same bartender, shouted above the din from behind the bar. A bunch of drinkers turned and stared at her. Whistles and invitations to take a walk upstairs had her stomach sinking. How she wished she didn’t have to do this again.
She dragged her feet to the bar. “Is Stuart around?”
“You think he’s gonna give you your job back?”
“Don’t look to me that the new girl is gonna last.” She gestured with her chin at the girl who was now slamming the glasses down like she planned to push them through the table. “I don’t think she has the knack for drink serving.”
“She’s the third one since you left. I’ll check with Stuart. Come back in about a half hour.”
Mindy nodded and left. With the little bit of money left from her train ticket, maybe she’d treat herself to a meal.
***
The next morning, Jed tugged on his shirt sleeves and adjuste
d his jacket. Today he would give a sermon that might very well be his last as a preacher. When he left Mrs. Peterson’s the night before, he’d been so angry he’d almost ripped the door off its hinges when he’d returned to his house. The old, interfering, malicious woman, had riled him so. If she’d thought he’d been angry last night, she would be surprised by his comments today.
“Good morning, Reverend,” Miss Miller greeted him as he approached the church. Giving her a curt nod, he continued on. Although it was not Christian-like, he had to hold onto his anger. His bed remained unused last night as he’d spent most of the night thinking about today’s service. Once the sun rose, he was ready.
He entered the back door of the church and knelt to pray. He hoped the Lord would forgive him the harsh words he intended to speak to the congregation. But they needed to be said. Steeling himself for what was to come, he stepped into the sanctuary and moved to the pulpit.
“Good morning,” his voice rang clear. Something must have shown on his face because his audience seemed more alert, more on edge. Very little fidgeting, and rapt expressions.
He cleared his throat, and looked at the pianist. “Miss O’Neill, will you please escort the children from the church and entertain them outside for a few minutes? I will let you know when you can return.”
The children climbed over their parents to gather in the front. Miss O’Neill led them out the side door. Once the door closed, and silence once again reigned, Jed cleared his throat, and stared at the gathering. “For those of you who are unaware, my wonderful wife, Mindy Nelson, who I love very much, was raised in a brothel by the prostitute who was her mother.”
Gasps and shocked mumbling erupted. One woman began to fan herself so zealously that her hat threatened to fly off into the air. He took that time to notice who was, and was not, present. Mrs. Peterson was nowhere to be seen. Last night, he’d learned from the wretched woman the names of the other ladies who had visited his wife, and those three were in the church. All of them shifted their eyes back and forth, looking uncomfortable.
He gave them all time to settle down, and then continued. “Also, before we married, Mrs. Nelson worked in a saloon. As a drink server. Nothing else.”
This time there was no whispering, but complete silence. “Then she was forced to defend herself against an aggressive man, and in doing so, ended up in jail. I tell you these things because one of our members decided to form a group to use that information to drive my wife away.”
New grumblings broke out, and he again waited for them to quiet. “For those of you who are uncomfortable with my wife being at my side and teaching bible lessons to your children, I would like to remind you of the Lord’s words in John 8:7. Whoever is without sin among you, let him be the first to cast a stone at her.”
The group sat mesmerized. “Like all human beings who are struggling to live by the Lord’s word, my wife is not without sin, however, none of the accusations hurled against her were sins. She had no control over who gave birth to her or where she was raised. The job she held was the only one she could secure because she didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps.”
He moved down from the pulpit, and joined the members at their level. “Because of her beginnings, and her desire to make more of herself, she received insults, taunts, and lewd remarks just about every day of her life. Yet, with all of that, Mindy remained a sweet, compassionate woman who tried her best to fit into a world she had no knowledge of.” He paused and looked around. “She agreed to come with me to do the Lord’s work, even though she felt as though she wasn’t ‘good enough.’"
“It is my duty as your pastor to bring God’s words and teachings to you. To help make your life more spiritual, and offer comfort in time of need. We are all on our path to heaven, but we also know the devil tempts us at every turn.
“You are good people, struggling, like myself, to do the right thing, and eventually enjoy your place in heaven. However, right now my place is with my wife. I love her, and I will not let anyone drive her from me. If she is not welcome, then neither am I. Therefore, I will be leaving Trinidad, and hopefully the elders will find an acceptable replacement for me.”
Giving them a nod, he started down the aisle and halfway down, turned to see everyone watching him. “I wish you all well.”
***
Mindy shimmied into her uniform and yanked up the top. Lord sakes, she never remembered this dress being so revealin’. Now that she’d had a taste of what a respectable woman’s life was like, everything about her life now felt dirty. She hated the way the men in the saloon looked at her, and dodging their grasping hands had gotten more tedious.
Monday evening and the second night back at her old job. In some ways it seemed as though she’d never left. The worst part was how much she missed Jed. His smile, his touches, his caring, and encouragement. She kept telling herself he was better off without her, but she was not better off without him.
As much as she’d tried to hold her heart close, he’d weaseled his way into it. No surprise there. She’d been halfway in love with him since the first time he took up for her on the school yard. Furiously, she brushed the tears from her eyes.
She was still confused by Ma’s comments about her being a good girl, and would someday have a better life. Although she’d smiled when she said it, Ma really did have a look of almost desperation in her eyes when she mentioned Mindy taking care of her. That is what she would one day do. No matter what, she was still her mother.
Just a few more nights and she would be able to pay for a room somewhere away from the brothel. She looked down at her hand where her gold wedding band used to be. Even though she’d only been married several weeks, the finger felt naked. About as naked as she looked in this damn dress!
Two hours later she felt as if she would drop. Even though it was Monday night, a new bunch of cowboys--smelly, dirty cowboys—had come in from the trail. Not wanting to wait their turn to go upstairs, a few of them had gotten downright rough with her. Her arm had black and blue marks on it from where one of them had grabbed her.
A fight had already broken out, and the entire place seemed about ready to explode. Her feet hurt, her head ached, and if one more man made a grab for her lady parts, she would dump a glass of beer on his head.
She turned from the bar with a full load of glasses on her tray when a voice shouted, “Cinnamon Nelson, put that tray down. Now!”
Her head whipped around and her jaw dropped. Jed stood at the door, his hands on his hips, glowering at her. He was the last person she’d expected to see in the saloon. Still not sure what he was doing here, she just stared as he wove his way between overcrowded tables.
She bent to place the heavy tray on the table where she stood, and a man behind her shoved his hand up the back of her dress and made a lewd remark. With a growl that rose above the noise of the saloon, Jed threw himself at the man, punching him in the face so hard, she heard a bone break. They both went flying to the floor when the chair the cowboy had been sitting on shattered.
That was all it apparently took for the place to erupt in pandemonium. Fists flew, men shouted, furniture sailed in the air as bodies hit tables and chairs. Mindy watched in horror when Jed tried to fight off three men at once.
He climbed to his feet and swayed a bit, shaking his head to clear it. He lunged toward Mindy when a man pulled her to him, but she took an empty bar tray and smacked him over the head with it.
“Good job, wife.” He shouted as another man pulled him by the collar and punched him on the jaw.
“Thanks, husband.” Her voice was cut short as a skinny cowboy grabbed her, and she reared back, the top of her dress tearing. She held the front of the dress up with her hand and raced around the other side of the bar. She reached underneath and pulled out a gun Silas kept there. Hoping it was loaded, and with shaky hands, she raised the gun and fired. The bullet hit the wall, shattering several bottles of whiskey.
A cowboy left one of the bedrooms on the se
cond floor, tucking his shirt into his pants. He looked over the balcony at the melee, and with a shout, jumped over, landed on the bar, and splintered part of it. Mindy jumped a good foot in the air, then screamed and hit him over the head with another bar tray. He rolled off and landed at Jed’s feet.
Two shots rang out, followed by two more. Slowly the fists stopped flying. A deputy marshal stood at the door of the saloon, his hat pushed back, the gun in his hand. Mindy climbed up on what was left of the bar, and looked over at Jed lying flat on his back. “Jed!”
She jumped down, alongside him. “Jed, are you all right?”
He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her. “I love you, Mindy.” He made to reach out and pull her to him, then groaned as his arm fell back. She bent her head and they kissed like they’d never kissed before.
“All right, you two. Get up. You’re headed to the jail.” The deputy stood over them.
Mindy climbed to her feet and helped Jed to stand. Leaning heavily on her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, he hobbled to the door and joined the others being led off to jail.
“Well ain’t this a fine pickle.” Marshal Dean Jones rocked back on his heels and stared at Mindy and Jed as they sat side by side on a cot in the jail, holding hands and resting against the wall. Five other drunk and battered cowboys sprawled on the cot across from them and on the floor. The other two cells were occupied with just as many fighters.
“I sent you down to Santa Fe as a bride to get you out of my jail. Then you marry up with the preacher, here, and head off to Colorado. Now the two of you are back here in my jail.” The marshal turned his attention to Jed. “Didn’t they teach you in that bible you carry around that fighting ain’t the Lord’s way?”
“Matthew, 21:12. Jesus and the moneychangers in the temple. Read your bible, Marshal,” Jed said, his eyes closed.
“Now what am I supposed to do with the two of you? I can’t have a woman in my jail, and I can’t have a preacher, neither.”