Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

It had been two days since Ance had dropped Penelope off at the orphanage. He had sent word to an Audrey Reynolds in a small town further east in the territory. He figured he'd hear from her real fast if the woman really was waiting for word on her daughter... but two days had past and the wire had gone unanswered. 

Sometimes Ance hated being right. 

And yet for some reason he was still here. He was still in Briggston and couldn't find any good reason why he should be other than the fact that every time he pointed his horse out of town something pulled him back. 

He'd caught a few glances of Penelope here and there as she'd sat on the porch of the orphanage. She was unable to keep up with the other children and they didn't seem to have any interest in slowing down to make it easier on her. She seemed so lonely, so sad, as she sat and looked out over the horizon. Ance had made sure she never saw him... he didn't want to make things harder on her than they already were by having to say goodbye to him again. 

Evening time had passed and darkness now filled the sky so Ance made his way to one of the saloons and sat down at a poker table. After ordering a beer from a passing saloon girl, Ance picked up his cards and began to play.

He had always been good at poker but found himself struggling tonight just as he had every night he'd played in Briggston. His mind kept wandering to a little girl with pigtails, freckles and hope in her brown eyes staring up at him from a crate in the back of a wagon. He kept hearing her voice talking his ear off day and night and singing silly little songs that made no sense and yet he understood perfectly. 

Ance was about to give it up for tonight and throw down his cards when whistles and cat calls filled the saloon. He looked up to see a young girl, around fifteen, enter through the swinging doors. She was glancing in every direction, her dirt stained dress swishing with her movements. 

The saloon keeper, a handsome woman just past middle age, approached the girl and whispered to her. The girl whispered something back and the saloon keeper pointed toward Ance. 

Great. Who the hell was this girl and why was she looking for him!?

The girl quickly came to him, wringing her pale hands around the folds of her skirt. "Sir? Are you Ance?" 

Ance pulled his cigar from his mouth and leaned back in his chair. "I might be. Who's looking for him?" 

The girl's full bottom lip trembled and her gaze dropped to the floor. "It's Penelope. She's hurt real bad...." 

Ance didn't even wait to hear the rest. He was out of his chair as if he'd been shot from a cannon and his large body barreled toward the door, his broad shoulders knocking men and saloon girls this way and that. 

"What the hell happened?" he demanded of the girl who was running to keep up with him. 

"Headmistress Gretta beat her... she beats all of us but she beat Penelope real bad..." 

Ance's blood was boiling in his veins. He couldn't remember a single time in his life when he'd been so damned angry. He leapt over the small fence gate and stormed up the walkway to the orphanage. Without bothering to knock, Ance kicked in the closed door and looked at the girl who was still following along behind him. 

"Where is she?" he growled. "Where is Penny?" 

"Up the stairs. First door on the left." 

Ance didn't wait a moment longer. He bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time and burst into the lamp lit room that the girl had indicated. He saw Penelope curled up upon the bed and the sound of her tears and whimpers of pain were like knives straight through his cold, iron clad heart.