Microsoft Word - Jenny dreamed (6 page)

Finally he was on his way, riding down the street to the saloon known as The Black Lily. He'd met its owner several times, though he'd quit going there because he was sure the house dealt a bad hand in most of the games. The "lady" who presided over the saloon was a faded blonde in her fifties, though with the skillful use of make-up, she managed to look younger.

Her husband, an Italian with a heavy, broken accent and rather shoddy evening wear, reigned over the dealers and dance girls.

His name was Paolo Conti, but the miners had given him the nickname Pauly and it had stuck with him. Pauly was almost twenty years younger than his wife, a dark little man who fancied that he kept the girls in line because they were all at least half in love with him. Pauly greeted Dev at the door, welcoming him back to the establishment and ushering him to a place at the crowded bar. "It is a long time since we see you, no?" His wide, toothy grin was insincere, as phony as the cut-glass stickpin he liked to claim was a diamond. "I get you girl tonight to celebrate you return. Anything you like special? How 'bout two girl for price of one?" He leered and leaned close, a wave of cheap cologne radiating from his black coat. "I fix with Lil," he whispered as though they were fellow conspirators. Dev could barely control an urge to pick the little Italian up by his shiny lapels and cast him as far as he could. "Not now, Pauly, maybe later. It's Lil I wanted t'see. I got a proposition to talk over with her. Can you arrange for me t'see her in private?" He stepped back, his nose twitching with the man's scent.

Pauly's eyebrows raised almost comically in surprise. "You got some idea to make lotsa money, eh? I go look for her-you stay, order drink on me."

Dev watched him scuttle off toward the upstairs rooms where Lil kept an office and ordered his free drink, sniffing it suspiciously even though there was no reason for anyone to slip him a drug. He had barely taken a sip of the brandy before Pauly returned, his face split by his conspiratorial grin.

"You come. Lil, she's always interested in propositions!" He winked as though he'd told a sly joke and told Dev to follow him. Pauly opened a door near the end of the bar to reveal a staircase. "Go," he directed, "up the stairs and down at the end a the hall. She's wait in the office. Lil, she say she call me if she need advice."

Dev frowned as the Italian slipped back into the saloon, leaving him alone in the semi-darkness of the hall. A single .wall lamp flickered there, casting dancing shadows on the walls. As he moved toward the office, he passed other doors on either side of him and several times heard shrill giggles from within.

He paused before the door, brows knit together, wondering why he hadn't taken more time to think about this. He really had no plausible proposal to make Lil and should have just circulated among the girls on the floor, trying to pry some information out of one of them.

Maybe he should'tell her he wanted to start a place similar to hers up north. The idea amused him and instead he knocked before he could change his mind.

"Come in, Mr. Cantrell!"

Then, it was too late to back out and he forced a smile to his face as he swung the door open and found Lil standing in front of her desk. She posed with unconscious seductiveness and Dev realized that at one time she must have been something to look at. Time seemed to have taken its toll, though Lil had not lost the manner of a woman used to flattery and admiration from the opposite sex.

"Please, do come in! I've been anxiously awaiting your arrival."

She smiled; and the last thing Dev remembered before something hard slammed viciously against the back of his head, was the flirtatious and almost ridiculous way the woman batted her fake eyelashes at him.

"Very good, Jim," Lil Conti remarked as she surveyed the immobile form lying at her feet. "I'll see to it you have a suitable reward for this. You saved me a great deal of trouble; Now check the hall and make sure no one's out there. I want him taken to the storeroom and tied, securely!"

"Yes, ma'am, always glad t'help you!" The man checked the hall as ordered and then began to drag Dev Cantrell out through the office door.

"Oh, Jim," Lil called, and he stopped dragging his unconscious burden for a moment to raise his head. The light cast by one of the two lamps on Lil's desk caught the piece of metal pinned to his shirt, winking off the incised word, DEPUTY. "Jim, I want to know, if there are any other inquiries at the sheriff's office. Send some-one with a message if you can't get away."

"Yes, ma'am," came the respectful reply before the deputy returned to his appointed task.

Three

When Jenny finally awoke, she was dazed and disoriented, unable to think clearly for the first quarter-hour or so. She found herself wearing nothing but a sheer, gaudy pink negligee and lying beneath the covers of a wide and comfortable enough bed.

She could not think how she'd come to be here or why, when she tried to move her arms, their freedom was restricted. A tiny, puzzled frown wrinkled her brow as she gazed at the ropes binding her wrists to the bars of the brass headboard.

Why would someone tie her? Where were her clothes? What on earth was she doing in this strange place? She had questions but no answers. Her mouth felt dry and cottony, and she tried to reach for the water glass on the night stand. The movement caused her to stretch and as she winced painfully at the raw ache in every muscle, it all came back to her.

Her muscles hurt from the long ride forced .upon her by the outlaw gang who had abducted her and fled south to a safe haven in Helena. She had recognized the town, even though it had been night when they arrived.

She was bound because she had defiantly insisted that she would escape and see that they were all arrested, and she had been given a drug to ensure a state of passivity. It must have been a strong dose, for she still felt muddled and light-headed. She remembered the smell as they had forced it down her. It was laudanum. She had seen enough of it at the hospital in London to know it well.

Jenny realized the immediate danger of the drug. It was an opium derivative, capable of relieving pain but also highly addictive. Dear God, she remembered seeing some of the cases of sick people who had recovered from their illness only to find they were often sicker when the pain-relieving laudanum was withdrawn. One woman she had helped to nurse had described vividly the feelings of withdrawal. .Her skin had felt on fire, she'd said, even while her body shook with chills. She would wake screaming in the night, imagining monster forms poised to attack from every corner of the room. At the worst times, it seemed as though bugs were crawling beneath her skin.

Jenny wasn't sure she had the strength to come through such an ordeal with her sanity. If they tried to give the drug to her again, she would ... what could she do, she thought in sudden despair. All the brave front and spirit she had shown the night before seemed to vanish.

She had not been abducted. on a whim. The gang leader had intimated as much when they'd stopped for a short rest during their escape. Somehow it helped her courage to try to catalogue the things she did know about the kidnapping, for the facts and reasons she didn't know were overwhelming by themselves.

Jennifer Bryant was no longer the hesitant virgin who had married Rodrigo. When the outlaw had dragged her before him on his horse and galloped off, with poor Isa held by another, Jenny had fully expected that they would both be raped. The man had held her close, effectively silencing her first wild struggles by gripping her waist so tightly with his arm that she was soon out of breath. In that soft, menacing drawl of his, he had warned her to keep still and loosened his grip somewhat when she'd complied.

He had not molested her during the. ride, though several times she had squirmed uncomfortably when his hand lightly traced the outline of her figure. The gang had kept a fast pace, staying well off the main road. They were anxious to maintain the advantage of time their surprise attack had given them, an advantage over the authorities who would begin an armed search soon after the robbery was reported.

When the rains had finally begun, the four riders paused under the shelter of a stand of trees, stopping only long enough to unpack their rainwear and mount up again. Ignoring her protests that she would rather be soaked, her captor had pulled her under the garment he'd called a poncho, stretching the neck opening of the water resistant, blanket-like material over her head so that it covered them both.

Even though it brought her even closer to his body, Jenny had been glad for the cover when the downpour continued well into the evening: The outlaw holding Isa on his mount had not been so gallant, and the maid was forced to ride on with no protection from the blasting winds that forced the sheets of rain directly against the group.

Warmed by the man's body as she lay cradled against him, Jenny had fallen asleep sometime in the last hour before they reached the outskirts of Helena. Tension and apprehension had worn her down and she had slipped into uneasy dreams without realizing it. She awoke with a start to find that they were quietly making their way along an alley that ran the length of a number of buildings.

The man who held her, the one they called Beau, signalled the other outlaws to a halt at the last building.

Jenny heard him tell one of them to take Isa inside and make sure she stayed quiet. Another was ordered to see to the horses; and then Beau drew off the poncho and dismounted, pulling her down into his arms.

With as much dignity as she could summon in her helpless position, Jenny coldly inquired what he was going to do. He said nothing, staring down at her as she lay captive against his chest, and instead, in the darkness and the still pouring rain, his mouth answered with a deep, searching kiss that left Jenny too surprised to even struggle. She lay still as he climbed a flight of stairs to the second floor, kicked at the door to the building, and carried her into a well-lit room that appeared to be an office. "I know damn well what I'd like to do," he said finally, and Jenny had no doubt as to what he had implied. Angrily she blushed and refused to meet the appraising look in his eyes.

When she was taken from the stage, a scarf tied like a mask had covered most of his features, and during the ride, a great deal of it in the dark, she had not had a good opportunity to see his face. Then, as he put her down for a moment, Jenny had a chance to see that he was in no way the ugly rough she had expected all such outlaws to be.

The man's features were even and almost refined under a neat thatch of straight, sandy hair. His voice and manners reflected a gentleman's background. She had thought to appeal to that within him when she asked why she'd been kidnapped.

For a moment Beau had looked regretful and her hopes had risen, only to be dashed seconds later when, hard-faced, he graboed her arm, pulling her along through another door that led to a hallway. "I just did a job, that's all," he answered hoarsely.

Somewhere in the distance, from beyond a door at the end of the hall, Jenny had heard loud music and the sound of a great many voices. Taking advantage of his dropped guard, Jenny was able to wrench her arm away. Beyond that last door there were people who might help her find the authorities.

She had almost reached the door when Beau caught her, circling her small waist with his arms to swing her away from it. Jenny fought like a wild thing, screaming out for help, hoping someone would come. When he cut off her screams by slamming his hand over her mouth, she bit down as hard as she could, rewarded by a cursing oath and temporary freedom. One of the doors lining the hall opened, and a man who was only half-dressed poked his head out to find the cause of the commotion.

Beau took advantage of the silence to pick up Jenny and toss her over his shoulder, heading for the door opposite from their curious observer. As he passed the man, he commented jestingly, "This new one sure is a hell-raiserl Can't decide whether she wants t'be a whore or notl"

Jenny had gasped indignantly as the man joined Beau in a moment's laughter. Before she could recover enough to blurt out the truth, a feminine voice called out from behind the man, and he quickly withdrew and shut the door. Beau carried her-into the room, slamming the door with a backward kick of his foot before he marched over to the bed and tossed her onto it.

She had popped up immediately, and Beau, still nursing his aching hand, was no longer patient or gentlemanly. He bent over and caught her arms, shaking her roughly until he was sure he had her attention. "No more kickin' or screamin', little lady, or you'll feel the backside of my hand," he threatened, his expression stormy enough to cause Jenny to believe he would do so.

He told her then that he was leaving, locking her in until someone brought her dry clothes.

As she rubbed the sore spot where his finger, even through the material of her jacket and blouse, had dug into her skin, she glared up at him in impotent rage.

During the time she was left alone, she went over the room searching for an escape route and for something to use as a defensive weapon. She discovered neither. There was nothing sharp, nothing heavy enough to use as a club, and no window or door, save that one which he had locked after himself.

When the key finally turned in the lock, Jenny was lying on the bed with her eyes closed. An apathy had settled over her, a weariness of the spirit as much as the body. Until a woman's voice spoke at the side of the bed, she didn't even care to open her eyes to question who had entered.

"Ma'am?" Jenny forced her heavy eyelids to open and found a woman dressed in maid's clothing staring down at her. "I was told to bring you these," she said. On the nightstand, she placed a tray holding a covered plate and a glass of some liquid that looked chalky white.

To forestall the rebellion she saw brewing on the prisoner's face, the maid had turned to a tall, armed man standing in the shadows behind her. "Sanders is here t'see that you don't cause no fuss," she told Jenny. "We all got orders-you'll be better off if you don't fight none."