Judith Stacy - Cheyenne Wife

“I—I have the wagon,” she said and heard the desperation in her own voice. “Would you take that in trade?”

Fredericks and Sykes turned to Becker. He shook his head.

“That wagon of yours ain’t worth what it’d take to roll it off a cliff,” he said to Lily, shaking his head sadly. “Whoever stole your stuff ripped the canvas all to hell— Pardon me for saying so, ma’am. It’s tore up real bad on the inside, too. Running gear’s not much better.”

“But what about my belongings?” Lily offered hopefully. “Surely the vandals left something of value I could trade with.”

Becker shrugged. “All that’s left inside is a bunch of fancy dresses, some dishes, books—nothing that’s worth nothing.”

“Those dresses were designed and sewn by the finest seamstress in the East,” Lily insisted. “And the china is a pattern designed specifically for my family, sent all the way from—”

“You got anything of real value?” Fredericks asked her, cutting her off. “Tools? Whiskey?”

“Well…no,” Lily admitted.

“Huh…” Fredericks stroked his chin and looked back and forth between Sykes and Becker. “What you reckon we ought to do with her?” he asked them.

The three men gazed at Lily and it took all her willpower not to blush.

“How’s your cooking?” Sykes asked.

“Well, I don’t actually cook,” Lily said, then forced a hopeful smile. “I supervise cooks.”

Fredericks shook his head. “You got any sort of a trade?”

“No, not exactly,” Lily admitted.

“Well, what can you do?” Becker asked, looking her up and down.

“I can paint—I’m especially gifted with watercolors—and I embroider,” Lily announced. She drew herself up straighter. “I can plan a party for a hundred people, supervise a large domestic staff—”

“We’re not planning to have no parties any time soon,” Sykes said.

“And our domestic staff?” Becker said. “We gave them the summer off.”

A round of chuckles erupted from the men gathered in the trade room behind Lily. She blushed red, the heat burning her cheeks.

The laughter was followed by a long, uncomfortable silence as the three men continued to look at Lily, assessing her value.

“She can’t do anything,” Fredericks proclaimed, sounding the death kneel on Lily’s worth. “She’s too small to do any real work, she’s got no trade, no skills.”

Becker and Sykes nodded in agreement.

Lily’s embarrassment deepened because they were right. She really was of no value here in the West.

Yet might that work in her favor? Hope sprang in Lily’s thoughts. Since she was so obviously of no value to anyone here at the fort, would they simply let her leave, let her go on her way, knowing they couldn’t possibly recoup their money?

“I know people—wealthy people—in Saint Louis,” Lily said, her spirits lifting. “If you’ll just let me leave here, I’ll send your money back—every penny—as soon as I set foot in the city. I swear I will.”

“Naw,” Fredericks said, shaking his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“How do we know you’d really send it?” Sykes proposed, then added, “No offense, Miss St. Claire.”

“We need the money before you leave,” Fredericks said, announcing it with a finality that caused Lily’s stomach to jerk into a tighter knot.

Lily’s mind spun. Her father’s business associates, friends in Saint Louis would send the money to her here at the fort. Aunt Maribel would gladly do the same. But it would take weeks—months, even—for her message requesting the money to be delivered and the funds sent to her here at the fort.

Revulsion tightened around her heart. She couldn’t—absolutely could not—stay at this fort for that length of time.

Mr. Sykes looked at her one more time, then sighed heavily and said, “Well, I guess there’s only one thing we can do.”

Lily’s hopes soared. She leaned forward trying to hear the three men as they crowded together and whispered. She prayed—desperately—that the men would take pity on her and simply let her leave.

“All right, then, it’s settled,” Sykes said when the huddle broke up. “Here’s what we’ve decided to do for you, Miss St. Claire. We’ve decided to set you up in business, right here at the fort.”

“Business?” Lily asked, stunned.

“Makes sense. Good sense,” Becker said, eyeing her critically, seeming to see her a little differently now. “After all, you’re just about the only white woman around these parts.”

Alarm spread through Lily. “What sort of business?”

Sykes shrugged. “You’re a pretty little thing, even if you can’t do much.”

“What sort of business?”

“Here’s how we’ll work things,” Fredericks explained. “We’ll give you a room here in the fort. Once word gets out, well shoot, I expect we’ll have men lined up all the way out the gate.”

“Are you suggesting that I become a—a—” Lily struggled to find her breath. “A—prostitute?”

“You got any better idea?” Sykes asked.

Raw fear raced through Lily. She backed up and turned, looking for an escape. But more men had come into the trade room and were blocking the door. And every one of them leered at her, as if contemplating her naked.

“I—I can’t possibly…” she said, shaking her head frantically.

“We’ll give you a break on your room rent,” Fredericks told her.

“N-no, I can’t—”

“Then you’d better figure some other way to come up with the cash you owe us,” Sykes told her.

“There must be something else you can do,” Lily insisted. “Please, I can’t—”

“Get her a room close to the kitchen,” Becker suggested. “More convenient that way.”

“And I’ll put up a sign,” Sykes offered.

“Paint it red,” Becker advised.

“No!” Lily insisted.

“Don’t worry,” Fredericks said. “You’ll pay off your debts in a couple months’ time.”

“Listen to me.” Lily clenched her fists. “You can’t force me to do this.”

“Then how are you going to pay us?” Fredericks demanded, his voice growing angry. “Do you think you can just waltz in here with your high-handed Eastern ways, take everything at your pleasure, then leave like none of it happened? You’ll do as we say, and that’s that.”

Tears threatened, and Lily fought to gulp them down. “Please, there must be something else I can do.”

Fredericks gave her a hard look. “Listen up, Miss St. Claire, we’re—”

“I’ll settle her debts.”

The three men looked past Lily to the back of the trade room. Lily whirled, her hopes soaring, searching the crowd for the man who’d made the offer.

North Walker stepped forward, sparing not even a glance at Lily.

“I’ll trade you,” he said to Fredericks. “For her.”

Snickers rumbled from the men.

“Hmm…” Fredericks rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He glanced at Sykes, then at Becker.

“I guess we can hear him out,” Fredericks said with a casual shrug.

“All right by me,” Becker agreed.

North looked at Lily. “Go outside.”

She couldn’t move. She could barely think.

“Go outside,” he told her again, more harshly this time.

Lily’s temper flared. She’d had enough of men today—every single one of them. And she wanted to tell them all exactly what she thought of them, but decided it more prudent to keep her mouth shut for the moment.

She pushed her chin up, whirled and strode out of the room with all the dignity Madame DuBois had taught her, despite feeling the hot gaze of every man in the room on her back.

Outside, she eyed the gate and, for a moment, contemplated making a break for it. Right now with her anger up and her heart pounding, Lily thought she might actually hike all the way to Aunt Maribel’s home in Richmond—by sundown.