Something Blue

Chapter 4

Gabe

The fire that had burned his mother's saloon to the ground five years ago was generally considered a low point in the family history. Injuries and fear aside, it had been a nightmare to find another property, and the new one was much farther from the center of town and had required a mountain of repair work before it was serviceable.

In the end, though, the change had worked out for the better, at least for Gabe. The new property had a modest stable, management of which he had claimed for himself solely to prove to himself he could manage some job other than laying his fist into men's faces. What was more, there was a small apartment on the first floor. In the last place he had been forced to choose between two unsavory options for his living situation. He could either live outside the saloon, which meant he was too far to hear or come running if one of the girls needed him. Or he could live in one of the rooms upstairs and consequently spend all night listening to the girls make their money.

At the new place, he didn't have to make that choice. He took over the small apartment, and one of his first repair jobs had been to install a complex system of bells and pulleys in all the rooms. Pulling the rope that hung by each woman's headboard would ring a connected bell in his own bedroom. It wasn't a flawless system, but it was certainly better than laying awake, listening to the sound of rutting men and the false moans of the women they paid to love them.

The distance from town was also turning out to be a blessing-- at least tonight. Vivian's Saloon stood in the periphery of the town limits, fenced on three sides by dark, heavy woods. He shuddered to imagine what he'd have done if this had occurred five years ago. Walked casually down Main Street with the preacher's battered wife in his arms? Ha.

In the new place, it was a simple matter of looping the long way around through the trees. His modest suite had an external door in the back of the building, and there were only ten yards or so of nerve-wracking open ground between the door and the treeline. Although by the time he got there those ten yards looked more like one hundred. His entire body burned with exertion, sweat plastering his hair to his head and his shirt to his back and chest. Between Katherine in his aching arms and Isobel latched onto his back, each step across even ground felt like clawing his way up the side of a mountain.

He hovered for a moment in the darkness of the treeline, staring at the gray-lit expanse of grass that separated him from the safety of his door. The front of the building would be lit up with lanterns even at this absurd hour, but the back side was dark and quiet. The skeleton key was heavy in his pocket and he sank reluctantly to a knee, settling Katherine's limp form in the loamy dirt beneath a pine. Isobel still clung to his back, and he reached up to pry her arms from around his neck, setting her on the ground beside her mother.

"I need to go unlock the door," he told the girl. "You stay here with your mama until I get back."

Her eyes went wide, fresh tears glistening. How many tears did this damned kid even have? Surely she'd be running out, soon. Maybe when she stopped crying he'd be able to get his head on straight and figure out what to do about this Godforsaken catastrophe.

"Promise?" she all but whimpered, her voice puny and frail in the damp dawn air.

"Promise," he affirmed, nodding. "Just sit here and hold your mama's hand, okay?" He guided Isobel's hand to Katherine's frigid, lifeless fingers, and the little girl latched on, her lip quivering.

"Mister, you have to come back," she pleaded, releasing her bear and stroking her free hand over her mother's arm.

"I already told you," he ground out, shoving to his feet. "I will. You can watch me the whole time."