Radclyffe - Promising Hearts

Vance took Rose's fingers gently in hers and bowed her head politely. "Ladies. I'm Vance Phelps."

"Are you a...gambler?" Rose asked with barely suppressed excitement. She had heard of such women, but never thought to meet one.

"Rose," her mother said sharply, "your questions are unseemly and your manners even more so." She turned her steely gaze to Vance.

"Please forgive my daughter's impertinence."

"Not at all," Vance replied smoothly, understanding Rose's confusion. Some more adventurous women did make their living by frequenting the gambling halls, often donning dapper male garb to enhance their reputations and garner invitations to the high-stakes games. "I'm afraid I have never been good enough at cards to make it a profession." She hesitated, then added, "I'm a physician."

"Oh, my," Rose breathed. "How exciting." Her gaze dropped briefly from Vance's face, skimming down her body and then returning.

Once more, to her frustration, she could find no way within the bounds of propriety to ask what she truly wanted to know. "I imagine that's very...demanding work."

"Sometimes." Weary and hard pressed to keep up polite appearances or conversation, Vance wished she could surreptitiously slide the flask from the inside pocket of her traveling coat. The warmth of the whiskey, no matter how fleeting, would be welcome. Instead, she slipped the watch from her pocket and checked the time. "We should be arriving soon."

"New Hope must seem like a very dull place to visit after the excitement of the city," Rose went on, ignoring the sharp tsk of disapproval from her mother. Her visit to Denver as a birthday gift from her parents had shown her a whole new world that she had never realized existed, one far more thrilling than the plain frontier society in which she had been raised. She was determined not to sit quietly by ever again while life happened all around her. And here was just such an opportunity, for surely this woman had seen much of the world.

Rose had never seen a woman dressed this way before or traveling alone. Nor had she ever seen anyone, man or woman, who looked so haunted. "Do you have family there?"

"No." Vance's tone was sharper than she intended, and when she saw Rose's dark eyes widen in surprise, she smiled to soften the edge of her reply. "No, not family. I'm going there to work."

"With Dr. Melbourne?" Rose couldn't disguise her pleasure.

Now, she would have even more of an occasion to associate with this intriguing newcomer and learn more of what went on in the world beyond the boundaries of her tedious existence.

"Yes." Vance didn't care to elaborate. In fact, the coach brought a sense of relief. It seemed that she had lost the skill for courteous social interaction during the last few years. All she wanted was to be alone. Wondering why she had even made this journey when what awaited her held no appeal, she forced herself to say, "I'll be assisting Dr. Melbourne."

"Really? Oh. Well." Rose smiled brightly. "I shall surely avail myself of your services, then."

Vance smiled thinly. "I certainly hope you won't need them, Miss Mason."

**********

Jessie Forbes tossed a feed sack onto the pile in the back of her wagon just as the stagecoach clattered to a stop across the street in front of the hotel. She waved to the bearded, dusty man at the reins.

"Afternoon, Ezra."

"Howdy, Jessie," the driver called back as he jumped down and secured the team. While the hotel proprietor hurried outside to welcome the new arrivals, Ezra clambered back up to the top of the coach and began handing down luggage to a third man. Jessie paid little attention to the familiar scene, noting absently that the Masons had returned as Charles Mason, the president of New Hope's only bank, pulled his buggy behind her wagon. "Jessie," he said as he hurried by on his way to greet his wife and daughter.

"Charles," Jessie acknowledged, watching him idly as he crossed the street. Her gaze sharpened as another passenger climbed awkwardly down from the coach. Without considering her reasons or her possible reception, Jessie followed in the banker's wake toward the stranger for whom she felt a swift and uncanny sense of recognition. Up close, she understood why. The newcomer was the first woman Jessie had ever seen dressed in men's clothes in public, other than herself. Women out on the range might wear pants when it suited the work or the weather, but never in town. Jessie did because it was all she had ever worn, and it was what she was comfortable in. She had grown up in New Hope. The townspeople knew her and thought nothing of it when she rode astride looking exactly like one of her trail hands in typical cowboy garb-- denim pants, cotton shirt, leather vest, boots, and western hat. Nor did anyone think it unusual that she wore a Colt .45 holstered against her thigh and carried a rifle on her saddle. She'd never given much thought to her difference until she realized she wasn't alone. She stopped in front of the dark-haired woman who was almost exactly her height, if a good deal thinner, and held out her hand. "I'm Jessie Forbes."

Vance took in the rangy blond, noting the tan on her face and neck that extended into the opening of her collarless cotton shirt, the wide black leather belt, the holster slung low on her lean hips, the scuffed boots. One quick survey told her this was a woman who worked on the land, but it was the intelligence in her blue eyes and the flicker of curiosity that held Vance's attention. There was something else in her gaze as well, a look of understanding that was wholly without pity. It was that more than anything else that had her extending her own hand in return. "Vance Phelps."

"Staying at the hotel?" Jessie asked.

"Might be," Vance replied. "But I've got to see about a job first.

Maybe you can tell me where I'd find Dr. Melbourne's office?"

Jessie half turned and pointed down the main street. The street itself was a double wagon-width wide, with permanent ruts carved into it from the passage of countless wheels and horses' hooves. The buildings were two-story wood structures with the exception of the bank, which was of a more recent vintage than most of the others and built of brick. Wide board sidewalks bridged the space between doorways and the street and allowed the ladies to keep their shoes and dresses dry when out walking or socializing during inclement weather.

"About three doors down on this side of the street."

"Appreciate it."

"You're a doctor?"

"Yes."

"Well, welcome to New Hope." Jessie eyed the heavy valise that Ezra dropped onto the ground next to Vance, then regarded the neatly pinned up, and empty, left sleeve. "I'm going that way, if you've got more luggage."

"Just the one." Vance hefted it in her right hand, keeping her expression carefully neutral as the muscles in her left side burned.

Ten cramped hours in the coach had tightened the scar tissue over her ribs. Jessie Forbes was a bit taller than she was and probably five years younger. Fit and strong and clear-eyed. Everything Vance no longer was. Oddly, she didn't resent the careful offer of assistance. On a day when she wasn't so weary, in so much pain, and wishing for nothing more but drink and a bed, she might have wondered why she wasn't bothered. As it was, she just nodded and turned in the direction Jessie had indicated. "Thanks again."

"Don't mention it."

Jessie went back to loading supplies, then checked her watch. She had almost an hour before she was due to collect Kate at the Beecher home. Just enough time for a little socializing of her own.

The saloon was nearly empty at five in the afternoon. Four men played cards at a back table, a bottle of whiskey in the center. A few cowboys stood drinking at the bar that ran along one side of the long, narrow room. An upright piano was pushed against the opposite wall, but the piano player was nowhere in sight. A staircase at the rear led up to a narrow balcony and a hallway beyond. The girls who populated the rooms down that hall wouldn't make an appearance until after ten that evening, when the cowboys and townsmen would be in the mood for company. One woman stood at the far end of the bar talking quietly to the bartender, and when she saw Jessie, she smiled and waved. Jessie tipped her hat and went to join her. "Hello, Mae."