Page 34 of Native Hawk
“There’s that beautiful smile,” he said.
Of course, that made her smile even more.
He was not such bad company, she decided. In fact, a part of her wished he could stay. They could have someone bring them breakfast in bed, and they could spend a leisurely morning, chatting over coffee.
But he must have places to go, and she had things to do.
“Do you know the time?” she asked.
He pulled the pocket watch out of the vest he’d dropped on the floor. “Quarter past eight.”
“Ahime!”She had to get to work. She started to spring from the bed, but was suddenly self-conscious about her lack of attire.
“I’ll go first,” he offered, “and leave you to your ablutions.”
He pulled on his trousers and a clean white shirt from his satchel, slipped on his vest, shoved his feet into his boots, strapped on his gun, and slung his duster over one shoulder.
“This place serve breakfast?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Would you like me to bring you some?” he asked.
For one dreamy moment, she absolutely did want him to bring her breakfast. In Italy, the maid always brought her acappuccinoand acornetto. But she was no longer in Italy. She had to fend for herself. Not only that, but it was usually her job to serve coffee and biscuits to the ladies of The Parlor upstairs.
Still, it was a kind gesture. “Thank you, but no. I must begin my work.”
“All right, pretty lady. Thank you kindly for the company.” He grabbed his hat off of the rack. He hesitated at the door. “Promise me you’ll think about another line o’ work. Not all men are as gentlemanly as me. A fine woman like you deserves a better life.”
Her heart softened at his words. But before she could thank him, he slipped out the door to go down to breakfast.
She hurried into her petticoat and laced up her boots. Then she looked in the mirror. Her hair was a mess. Seizing her hairbrush, she untangled it as best she could, then wound it into a loose bun on top of her head. She splashed water on her face from the basin. Then she slipped her dress on carefully over her head and topped it with a fresh apron.
She glanced at the bed. It should be made before she left the room. As she smoothed the sheets and fluffed the pillows, she couldn’t help but notice that his side of the mattress was still warm. She held his pillow up to her face. It smelled like him. She couldn’t say how. He didn’t wear perfume like her brothers. But there was some masculine scent, like leather and vanilla and sweet smoke, lingering on the linen.
She hugged the pillow to her breast. His words haunted her.You deserve a better life.She’d had a better life in Italy, at least when one measured life in wealth and comfort.
And it seemed mad to her that she’d just earned twenty dollars for enjoying a man’s company when she was about to scrub and toil all day today for a mere dollar.
But perhaps Drew was right. Perhaps she should not work in such a place.
She tossed the pillow back onto the bed. Then, straightening her shoulders, she went into the hall.
There was the usual flurry of morning activity as the gentlemen callers began to leave the ladies’ rooms. But there was a knot of prostitutes at one end of the hall, scowling and whispering behind their hands, glancing up at her.
She sighed. She should be used to their hatred by now. But it was still annoying.
“Is it true?” Anne asked, rushing up and grabbing her elbow.
“What?”
“Did you have a gentleman caller last night?”
Catalina frowned. Anne was right. Rumors flew more swiftly than swifts around The Parlor. “It was not like that.”
Emily sidled up beside her, her eyes dancing. “Like what? What did I miss?”
Anne replied, “Catalina had her first gentleman caller.”
