Page 35 of Native Hawk
Emily’s smile froze on her face.
Anne continued. “Are you all right, Catalina? Did he hurt you? I swear to god, if he hurt you—”
“He did not hurt me.”
Anne and Emily exchanged baffled glances.
Emily cleared her throat. “Have you ever…was this your first…what exactly…”
Anne wasted no words. “Were you a virgin?”
Catalina’s eyes went round. “Of course. How can you ask me such a thing?”
“And you’re sure he didn’t hurt you?” Anne asked. “You can tell me, Catalina. He didn’t make you do anything…untoward?”
“No. He just wanted to sleep.”
Emily cocked her head. “Sleep?”
Anne looked both ways for eavesdroppers and whispered, “Because I heard he offered you twenty dollars. Nobody—”
“Twenty dollars!” Emily exclaimed, silencing everyone in The Parlor.
Catalina closed her eyes, completely humiliated.
“That’s right, girls,” Miss Hattie announced as she came ambling down the hallway. “You better keep on your toes, or our sweet Miss Catalina will steal all your regulars.”
It was the worst thing she could have said. Most of the ladies hated Catalina already. Now they would be even more envious.
She heard cat-eyed Amanda mutter under her breath, “She musta done somethin’ real nasty for that kind o’ cash.”
The ladies around her agreed.
“Don’t pay ’em any mind,” Emily told her. “They’re just jealous.”
Anne asked shyly,“Didyou do somethin’ nasty?”
“No!” she hissed. Then, fed up with the lot of them, she squared her shoulders, picked up her skirts, and went downstairs to start the day’s work.
Sitting at breakfast with the other men in the salon, Drew had gone quiet. He stared down at his coffee. He hadn’t meant to embarrass Cat. But he was sure she was embarrassed. He could tell by the way she stomped down the stairs and took off for the kitchen with a scowl.
Did everyone know how much he’d paid for her? If they didn’t before, they did now. Why had the madam spilled the beans?
The men beside him started talking. And pretty quickly, he learned what Miss Hattie was up to.
The man with the long-handled mustache shook his head. “Twenty dollars. What man in his right mind pays a hooker in this cow town twenty dollars? I mean, she’s a pretty thing, sure, but…” He rubbed his whiskers. “For that much gold, she must do somethin’ awful special.”
Drew tensed his jaw.
The man across from him puffed on his cigar. “Maybe she’s one o’ them Frenchies. Or maybe she lets you do her in the caboose.”
Drew took the last swig of coffee, grinding the grounds between his teeth.
The mustached man said, “For twenty dollars, she’d have to spit-shine my nuts and swallow my wad.”
“Maybe she does.” The cigar man let out a raunchy chuckle.
“Damn!” The man stroked his mustache in speculation. “You think so?”
