“Mrs. Malley was quite welcoming, but I must say, that older man she’s married to is not the most pleasant,” Helen said.
Trixie looked up from where she was peeling potatoes. “Really? Why do you say that?”
“He just seemed incredibly grumpy and not overly pleased to have a visitor when I stopped by,” Helen mused. “I think he keeps a very tight hold on his family. He thanked me for the invitation but he appeared very reluctant to accept.”
Trixie frowned. “Why would she marry someone so much older than her?”
Helen chose her words carefully. “Sometimes, such matters are left to the parents, not the child, Trixie.”
Trixie’s eyes widened. “You mean, an arranged marriage of sorts?”
“It’s possible,” Helen admitted. “But that is a story we shall not be repeating, understood?”
Trixie nodded. “I can’t imagine wanting to marry a man old enough to be my father.”
“Well, we don’t know the story so let’s not make one up,” Helen said firmly.
“Yes, Ma,” Trixie answered.
At supper, Bobby reported the Malley boy was a bit friendlier today. Tall for his age, he joined Bobby and the Lynch twins for lunch and recess, even though he was two years younger than them.
Trixie figured Mrs. Malley to be not too much older than her, which means she had her boy fairly young. Trixie shuddered at the thought.
***
In church that Sunday, Trixie got a good look at the Malley family. Mr. Malley stood against the wall with most of the men; Mrs. Malley took a seat near the back, with her son. Trixie was stunned to see the boy had bright red hair and pale skin, like Bobby had said. Mrs. Malley was unusually tall, blonde and fair skinned, but her older husband had hair the color of mud, and a scowling, weather beaten face. There was a younger man, probably around Brian’s age, Trixie guessed, who didn’t look much like Mr. or Mrs. Malley. In fact, he was downright exotic and very good looking with darker eyes, hair and skin, obviously part Indian. He was lean and tall, standing next to Mr. Malley. Trixie wondered if they were brothers and where the boy got his red hair from.
The Wheelers were a bit late, but Madeleine slipped into her seat quietly, while her father and Regan stood near the back. Her mother had returned to New York for the ball season, not wanting to spend the harsh winter out west.
Jim Frayne kept an eye on Regan, who hadn’t realized the Malley’s were there yet. When Ayla had walked in with her husband, son and another young man around her own age, Jim had been surprised. And more than a little suspicious about the true parentage of the boy with the bright red hair after the encounter the other day with Ayla and the runaway horse. The age was right, the timing was right and the hair was right. If that boy wasn’t Regan’s, Jim would shave his own red hair off. Did Regan know? he wondered. Was that Regan had reacted so strongly to the woman, or was he just shocked to see her?
Regan hadn’t noticed the Malleys; he stood with Mr. Wheeler as usual. The town was growing so rapidly a new church was being discussed, as each week the citizens crowded into the one room that doubled as the school. The men usually stood along the walls, allowing the women and children to sit. By summer, more families were expected, and there wouldn’t be enough room to teach them all, either. Of course they couldn’t build during winter, but as soon as the ground thawed, Mayor Peter Belden and his council were hoping to break ground on a new building for church and school. Donations were being collected through the winter.
Regan sang the hymns but he didn’t really hear the sermon. He had done his best to not look around when he came in, he didn’t want to see her with her husband. There were new faces almost every week, it was easy to blend in, at least until he took his hat off.
At the end of the service, as people filed out, he looked up and saw her. Her eyes met his and they both stared. Then Regan’s eyes dropping to the boy she was gripping tightly by the shoulders, and his breath stuck in his throat.
Regan finally tore his eyes away, his brain whirling. Surely not. It couldn’t be.
He joined Matthew and Peter outside, as Jim and Win walked up. It was a cold morning, and Regan was eager to get the Wheeler horses back to the stables.
Regan didn’t hear the conversation as he watched Ayla join a young man around their age, maybe a few years younger, and an older one. Husband and father-in-law, he thought. The boy was joined by Bobby Belden for a minute, as they chatted, and then Bobby was rounded up by Helen, who spoke with the Malleys for a couple of minutes. The older Mr. Malley shook his head, and Regan caught the look of longing on Ayla’s face. She turned away quickly when she saw he was watching her.
“Interesting folk,” Jim commented as their wagon left. “The Malleys, I mean.”
Peter nodded. “They don’t seem to be very social, at least the older Mr. Malley doesn’t. Helen has invited them over for supper twice now and he keeps refusing.”
“Shame those youngsters let him run their lives. Can’t be much fun for a young couple in love,” Matthew commented.
Peter shook his head. “The younger one is a nephew they took in, I believe. That pretty girl is married to the older man.”
Regan felt his stomach lurch. His Ayla was married to the surly looking older man that was as old as her own father?
Jim shook his head. “That’s a pity. She’s quite lovely. I spoke to her in town the other day. “
“The nephew is Jasper Malley. He was asking about work at the general store the other day,” Peter said. “The boy is friends with Bobby and the twins, I believe his name is William.”
Regan felt his heart stop. He stared at the ground. William. Red hair. Freckles. Pale skin. The one night he and Ayla had consummated their love, the night her father caught him, and ran him out of town…they had made a baby. Regan was sure of it. He had a son.
Regan had always regretted not going back for her. The one time he did, he was almost thrown in the lion’s cage for its supper. He hadn’t pursued. He should have. Dear God, how he should have, he thought. By not going back for her, he had condemned her and their son to this man’s rule.
***
Dan listened intently as his brother told him about the new family in town. Jim had already told him about the horse incident, but now the bits of information were coming together.
“I swear, Dan, that boy is his.”
Dan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So Regan has a torrid affair years ago, and has this child. Do you think he knows? Regan's not the type to abandon his family.”
Jim shook his head. “I saw his face when he saw the boy. His name is William, also. Regan looked like he had just been kicked. Something happened a long time ago, and I think today was the first time he’s seen the boy.”
“Wow,” Dan murmured. “Why would she marry that old man though? Not even the nephew, who’s close to her age?”
“Regan alluded to his running away from the circus,” Jim said quietly. “What if it wasn’t his choice?”
Dan nodded. “Someone might have run him off. Maybe Ayla’s father. He realized she was pregnant and married her off to someone. But surely if they were from the circus, Regan would have recognized him. And this was what, ten years ago or so?” Jim nodded. “The timing is right for the kid.”
“Poor Regan,” Jim said quietly. “All those years he was looking for you, you were right under his nose, and he never knew he had a child.”
Dan shook his head. “I feel awful for him. This has got to be Hell. He can’t interfere with another man’s marriage, and what if Malley doesn’t know the kid isn’t his? If he finds out, it could mean a pack of trouble for Mrs. Malley.”
Jim nodded his agreement. “Or maybe he does know and there was some arrangement made. She would have been about sixteen back then, it’s the right age for marrying.”
“Can you wire the Pinkertons in New York?” Dan asked. “Use my name. I want to see if they can dig up any information on this Malley fella.”
Jim agreed.
***
Hallie Belden sat in the wagon, her coat on and a blanket around her. The temperature seemed to drop everyday, but Uncle Peter allowed her to join him, just so she could get off the farm. Her back ached from stockpiling the wood that Mart and Bobby were chopping. It was lined up in wooden boxes along side the house and in the barn, ready to keep them warm through winter.
Hallie hated the farm. She hated living on it, smelling it, smelling like it. She missed her house in Idaho, where the servants took care of things like wood for the winter, and she was allowed to spend most of her days reading or visiting her friends.
Friends that never wrote, she thought sullenly. Not one. She was completely on her own out here. No updates from home, other than an occasional letter from a brother or two.
“Excuse me, Miss Belden.”
She looked down to see a boy of about thirteen, clutching a note.
“I was paid to give this to you, secret-like,” he whispered.
“Set it under my foot, boy, and quickly. Thank you,” she murmured. The boy did so and scurried off. She glanced behind her. Uncle Peter was in the doorway, she couldn’t read it now. She bent and picked it up, then reached under her long skirts to tuck it into her boot. There was only one person who would send her a secret note.
***
It was after supper before Hallie was able to sneak into her and Trixie’s room to read the note while Trixie washed the dishes.
Miss Belden, I regret our interruption the other day, as I had hoped to better acquaint myself with your loveliness. I do believe we can work a mutually beneficial and satisfying situation. There’s a tree in your orchard, third row, second tree from the left of the house that has a hollow in it. Leave me a note there, it will be picked up and delivered to me, if you are interested. You are a beautiful flower that needs space to truly bloom into your beauty. Yours, B.R.
Hallie fanned herself a moment, as she let herself be swept away with the fantasies his words implied. It had been so long she had had the true company of a man. She certainly wouldn’t get it from Dan, Jim or Regan. But Ben Riker seemed more than willing to provide it.
***
Regan had just mounted Deltan to ride back to the estate when he saw her. She walked quickly, eyes down and not looking at anyone.
When had that happened? He wondered. Where had the vibrant, carefree girl he had loved gone? What sort of man was she married to? He had caught a glimpse of the fire that day her horse ran loose, but since then…she was quiet and withdrawn the two other times he had seen her. Was her husband abusive? The thought made his blood boil.
Regan dismounted and wrapped the reins again, hurrying after.
“Ayla!” he called.
Startled, she turned, paled and began to walk again.
“Ayla, wait!”
He ignored a couple of the stares as he caught up to her. “Mrs. Malley!”
“Yes?” she asked coolly.
Regan just stared at her, at a loss for words. “What are you doing here?” he finally managed.
“My husband has bought some land, to farm,” she replied dully.
“What’s happened to you?” Regan demanded.
The ocean colored eyes turned hard. “I don’t have time to stand here and talk about the past.”
Regan stopped himself from grabbing her arm. “The boy,” he whispered. “Is he—”
“I have to go,” she murmured, bolting away from him.
Regan stared after her, frustrated. He needed answers.
Brian Belden watched the exchange from the window of his small living space up above the office. Why was Regan pursuing a married woman on the street, looking desperate? He wondered. He knew Regan had been interested in Julianna, but this was a quick turnaround. Who was this woman and why had Regan run after her?
***
Brian glanced at Ashley, the girl in charge. There was no polite moniker he could give her, other than “Head Whore”, and that wasn’t very polite. A tiny brunette, she snapped orders around at the saloon girls, hustling them into line so Brian could examine them.
“Ooo, we like him,” a heavyset blonde cooed. “I’d much rather have him touching me than that old man!”
There were giggles around the room and Brian felt his face flush a bit. Doc Ferris usually examined the saloon girls every week, but he wasn’t feeling well this morning. He had a list of them by name, prior conditions, and the shots Doc distributed. Doc had warned him they would make him offers. Brian had no intention of accepting any of them.
This was the second saloon to open in Sleepyside, and these girls were much higher class, Doc Ferris said. The owner, Swegin, was a savvy business man who kept his saloon and girls clean and well taken care of. The other saloon brought in a rougher clientele and crowd, and the girls lounged around in filthy underclothes.
There were fourteen of them, and Brian switched into his doctor mode as the first one stepped behind the privacy curtain. This was going to be a long morning, he thought.
The last girl, a semi-tallish blonde, wouldn’t look at him.
“This is Lily,” Ashley said.
“Hi, Lily,” Brian said. “Have a seat.”
She did so, finally looking up at him. Their eyes met and Brian felt the world tilt around him. He blinked twice, and she wasn’t looking at him anymore. But the bright blue eyes were seared into his memory. Her hair wasn’t sandy like his sister, this more of a pale wheat color. She was one of the heavier girls, but he liked that in a woman. A few experiences away at school had left him with the thought he definitely preferred woman with some flesh on them.
Several of the girls had tried to flirt with him, offer him ‘special deals’ but he ignored the offers. This one though, Lily, didn’t speak unless he asked her a direct question.
He pulled Ashley aside to go over the list of treatments for two girls. Doc Ferris had been very firm in that order. Brian must talk to Ashley, otherwise the girls wouldn’t follow directions.
“What about Lily?” he asked. “She’s the only one that didn’t talk, and I’m kind of concerned about her.”
Ashley sighed. “She’s new.”
“To the life?” he asked. She nodded. “I could tell as much. Have her soak in a tub with some salt, if possible. It’ll help. Is Lily her real name?”
“Her name is Lillian,” Ashley told him. “She’s only been here a few days. She don’t say much, ain’t learned the ropes yet. She kinda reminds me of a rabbit almost, very jumpy. She ain’t gonna make money here if she don’t get it together. She’s too cold for the men.”
“How’d she end up here?” he asked.
Ashley shrugged. “I ain’t never asked. Sometimes it’s best not to, Doctor Belden. She admits it hurts, and I’m pretty sure she’s on the run from someone, or something. She keeps at me to color her hair dark. Maybe she thinks it’ll disguise her.”
Brian frowned. “Look, let her know, if she’s in trouble, I can help. My sister is about to marry the Marshal in this territory. If she’s in trouble, we’ll help her.”
Ashley gave him a sad smile. “We’re all in trouble of some sort, Doctor.”
***
Hallie stood up slowly, her back aching from carrying the wood.
“Isn’t it enough yet?” she whined.
Trixie glared at her. “No. We have to reach all the way to the end of the wall there, and it has to be as tall as Brian.”
Hallie groaned and shivered. She was sweating from being too hot and yet the air was too cold. “Can I take a break?” she asked.
Trixie sighed. “Sure. Five minutes and you better be back here!”
Hallie bolted.
Trixie trudged outside to where Mart was still chopping wood.
“All winter,” she sighed.
“I know,” Mart grunted as he heaved the maul down to split a log. “I still haven’t forgiven her for letting Bobby get blamed for my knife disappearing. I could have been hung!”
“Thank God you weren’t,” Trixie answered.
“Thank Dan, too,” Mart chuckled.
Trixie picked up the smaller logs in her arms as he set another big one of the block.
Hallie hurried to the tree where she had left the note. The note was gone but nothing had been returned yet. Had Ben found someone else? She wondered. Winter was coming, there were plenty of saloon girls to keep him warm. It was going to be too cold for him to continue making trips out here.
Hallie sighed. She would have been good at being a saloon girl. Uncle Peter would disown her though, she thought. She was under his guardianship until her father was ready to have her back.
Which was probably never, she thought despondingly, trudging back towards the barn. Her father had had to fire his best foreman ever when he caught them in the barn together, fully coupled. The only time he had ever struck her, Harold Belden had left her seeing stars as he almost killed the foreman, who was protesting she had been encouraging him. Which she had. He was young, strong and good looking, and not her first. Her father had figured that out and the next thing she knew, she was on a train to Tulsa, Oklahoma, where she took the stage coach to Sleepyside.
Ben could be her ticket out of here, she thought, as she reached the barn. She just had to figure out his game and play the cads right.
***
Brian found himself wandering into the saloon that night, a place he hardly went. He didn’t like the rough men, the miners and drillers and general riffraff that swarmed in at night. He sipped a shot of whiskey, observing the room. Most of the girls seemed to enjoy their positions and there was plenty of laughter and giggles and music.
Then he spotted her, Lillian, pale faced, gorgeous in a deep blue dress, her blonde hair braided up, fear plastered on her face. A driller covered in sweat stains and dirt approached her. Brian watched as she literally shrank back in fear. The driller didn’t like that, and Brian found himself on his feet, and interrupting.
“There you are!” he exclaimed. He took a firm hold of her arm, startling her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
He whisked her away from the drunken man and to the side hallway, away from the main crowd in the room.
“This isn’t the life for you,” he said.
The blue eyes filled with tears.
“It’s the only life I can have out here,” she replied.
Brian frowned. “It’s apparent this is repulsive to you. But I know if you don’t bring in enough money, you’ll be turned out.”
Lily looked away.
“Take me up to your room,” he said quietly. Her eyes widened. “Now, before your boss gets suspicious. And try to smile.”
She forced a smile and took him by the arm, leading him upstairs.
Once they were in the room and the music drowned out, Lily began to fumble with her dress ties.
“Stop,” Brian said softly. “Lily—”
“It’s Lillian,” she interrupted, pausing. “Only my customers call me Lily, and something tells me that’s not what you want.”
“No,” his dark eyes were fixed on her. He did want her, he thought, but not like this. He didn’t just want her flesh.
“Why did you bring me up here then?” she asked.
She had a nice voice, he thought, soft spoken, gentle.
“Women turn to this life to escape something they feel is worse,” he said.
Lillian looked away. “Dr. Belden, please don’t ask me questions.”
“Call me Brian,” he said, standing next to her.
“That’s not proper,” she murmured, trying to ignore the unfamiliar heat that ws spreading through when he stood close by.
“What of this immediate situation is proper?” he asked with a smile. “Is Lillian your real name?”
“Yes,” she answered, but not offering a surname. “I need to blend in here, Dr. Belden.”
Brian sat on the squeaky bed. “You don’t blend in down there, looking like you’re being sent to the gallows,” he answered.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked suddenly, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Because you don’t belong here,” he said gently.
“I don’t belong anywhere, but this is where I choose to be,” she answered.
“There are other options,” he said.
“Such as? I’m good with numbers but no man would hire me to run his business. Even if I found respectable work, where would I live, a woman on her own? No, Dr. Belden, this is about the only option.”
Brian was silent for a minute when she said, “You should go. If I’m noticed to be gone and have no earnings, I’ll be in trouble.”
Brian rose and removed the money she needed from his pocket. He placed it on the stand for her.
“If you change your mind, please let me know. I know of people that can help.”
A moment later she escorted him down the stairs and he left the saloon, his heart heavy. There had to be a way to help her.
Author Notes
- a huge yee-haa! to Julie (Macjest), my ever patient and helpful editor for this universe! All mistakes are mine.
-Swegin is a nod to Al Swearengen of "Deadwood", played by the brilliant Ian McShane. "Swegin" was his name according to another character, Wu the Chinaman.
-Word count 3,724
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