Page 38 of Native Hawk
“He will go with Mary or Amanda or…or you.”
“Me?”
Even as she said it, the thought crushed Catalina.
It shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if Mr. Hawk belonged to her. Why would he ask for her again when he’d had no satisfaction from her last night?
Emily shook her head. “Naw, I think he wants you again.”
She found herself hoping Emily was right. It would break her heart to see him go upstairs with one of the other girls.
And yet she knew that was ridiculous. She hadn’t known Drew long enough to give him her heart in the first place.
“What if he offers you another twenty dollars?” Emily asked, her eyes gleaming.
“He will not.” She smirked. She doubted he had another twenty dollars. And if he did, he certainly wouldn’t waste it. He hadn’t gotten his money’s worth last night, and he knew it.
“Well, what else is he gonna spend his winnin’s on?”
“His winnings?”
“He’s been playing five-card draw for the last several hours. Last time I looked, he was up seventeen dollars.”
Another knock came on the door.
“Come in,” both of them called.
It was Anne. “He’s still down there.”
Emily said, “She knows. I told her.”
“Did you tell her he was winnin’?”
Catalina forced her heart to calm down. She didn’t believe in false hope. “Just because he’s winning does not mean he wants tospendhis winnings.”
“He’s got to spend his money on somethin’,” Anne said. “What else would he spend it on?”
This was nonsense. “Food, clothings, a horse, whiskey…”
“She’s right,” Emily had to admit.
Anne planted her fists on her hips. “Whose side are you on?”
Emily bristled at that.
“All I’m sayin’ is,” Anne continued, “this could be your regular, Catalina.”
Her regular. That was what all the shady ladies longed for—a man they could think of as a husband, a man who would be there for them, as constant as the rising of the sun.
It was a pleasant thought. She could imagine spending every night with Drew Hawk—talking about their childhoods, giggling in their bed, snuggling together under the covers. She would love to be able to look at the pillow beside her and see his beautiful face as he slept.
But as Miss Hattie liked to say, her head was not full of stuffing.
“What will be, will be,” she said, shaking out the dress she’d just finished and holding it up in front of her in the mirror.
“Oh, my,” Emily crooned. “That’s wonderful.”
“Is that for Jenny?” Anne asked.
