The Spoils of Sin (19 page)

‘He would not permit me. It was not my intention. I was helpless.' She relived the swoony floaty feelings induced by the man. ‘And he was perfectly pleased, too. My pleasure gave him pleasure.' She frowned. ‘How can that be?'

‘I envy you, since my pain was all my bastard wanted.'

‘The fact is, we are each of us different now. I am as spoiled as you, I fear. Whatever my mind might ordain, my body is like to crave the same delight hereafter. And when it is not forthcoming, I shall be sorry.'

Carola took a long breath. ‘Just the same, we keep on with it. We have no other choice. We cannot survive without it.'

Fanny was reminded of the banknotes stuffed into her hand. She spread it out on Carola's bed. ‘Thirty dollars!' she cried. ‘He gave me thirty dollars for us both.'

‘What?'

‘See for yourself.'

They both fingered the money wonderingly. ‘Who are these men, then?' asked Carola. ‘Who go off to find gold, when they already have full pockets?'

‘They were well dressed and clean. Sons of gentlemen, eager for adventure. The goldfields, it seems, will see all of humanity flooding towards them.' Fanny tried to visualise the many different characters all crowding together with their shovels and buckets and foolish hopes.

‘And, fortune being so blind and capricious, what would you wager that these rich men will be the luckiest of them all in what they find?'

‘I wager nothing,' said Fanny. ‘I will put aside my twenty dollars and dream of a day when I can be free of this work.'

Both of them froze with shock at these words. Had she really meant it, Fanny wondered. In eight short months, had she come so far? Where was the fun and anticipation and feeling of inviolability? And now she felt trapped in a cage of her own making. Because she knew full well that nobody had forced them to choose this life.

‘There is really nothing so bad about it,' Carola said quietly. ‘One difficult night, and you are ready to abandon it?'

Fanny closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, it was with a new determination. ‘I shall be better in the morning. We both will. Summer is coming, and so is the gold. We shall reap great rewards. Of course we shall.' Fanny lifted her chin and gave herself a slap. ‘If you are not injured, then we proceed as before. All that took place today must be forgotten.'

‘I am not injured,' said Carola softly.

They had taken little heed of their dog, who had, after all, saved the day. Now Fanny caressed and fondled him in an excess of gratitude. ‘Without you, my Hugo, much worse would have befallen us. You did your work magnificently, and must be well rewarded. Come with me, and we will open the parcel I got from the butcher.'

With a large marrow bone to gnaw, the dog was quickly in heaven. Fanny watched him and tried to order her thoughts. The money Paul had given her would justify a night or two without accepting further business – but an instinct told her that this might lead to a deepening reluctance to ever open again. And what would they do with themselves, without the preparations for each evening? Carola had perhaps known a childhood of idleness, with slaves and servants attending to her – but Fanny had grown up with a firm assumption that idle hands were sinful. As it was, the afternoons could hang heavily, with little to do but keep the little house clean and prepare meals. But a regular flow of money ensured that marketing could be conducted with frequency and what little variety the town could offer. While they paid their way, they could maintain civil relations with the local people. However much the wives might disapprove of them, they were tolerated so long as they kept to a few basic rules.

Carola joined her on the couch near the stove. The fire had sunk down to a few smouldering ashes and outside the wind continued to rage. ‘There is nothing more to be said on the subject. We continue as before, trusting to Hugo and the slender chances of further trouble. Consider the proportion between those who give us no cause for concern, and those who harm us. It is over one hundred to one. We continue as before,' she repeated.

‘You echo my own thoughts,' said Fanny. ‘We throw the door open as usual at sundown tomorrow.'

The next evening, there was a single customer. A man in his forties, with a beard that seemed to grow in a dozen difference directions at once, strode through the door without hesitation. He removed his warm hat and placed himself before the glowing fire. ‘Good even to you, ladies,' he said. ‘I have heard fine tales of your boudoir. 'Tis an excellent service you be offering we poor menfolk, and so it is. For every man that can boast a goodwife, there are fifty all on his lonesome. I be one such. Never known the benefit of a welcoming lady in my bed, night after night. Comes a point where it passes endurance.'

‘Will you take a drink, sir?' asked Fanny, finding herself quite liking the man.

‘Is it extra?' He eyed the notice on the wall. ‘Says naught about drinks on there.'

‘It is all included,' Fanny smiled.

‘Then I will take a dram, and thank'ee.'

‘Is that an Irish lilt I hear in your voice?' she asked him.

He laughed. ‘Is that the way I sound? The truth is, I have never been east of the Rockies, but for a time I associated with an Irishman and adopted his manner of speaking. It is no more than that.'

‘Are you a mountain man? A scout or a trapper?' Fanny recalled the lone figures they had employed during the migration at certain points. Men with huge beards and greasy clothes, often speaking in monosyllables and making no secret of their contempt for the ignorant settlers.

‘Those times are almost gone, miss.' He shook his head gloomily. ‘The west is filling up like a river in spate fills a dried lake. Full to bursting, 'twill be in another year or so. I'm away into Columbia Territory, once the snows are gone. There I'll trap some bear and beaver for a while longer.'

‘British-ruled? Beyond the border?' Fanny remained hazy as to the exact governance of the coastal lands. The British had retreated from any competition over control of Oregon, but retained land to the north; that much she understood.

He swigged his whiskey and coughed. Carola, watching him from the couch, had made no contribution to the exchange. All three of them were fully aware that this was Fanny's customer, and had been from the first moment. Now Carola stood and caught her friend's eye. She rolled her gaze upwards to indicate that business must be done and there was no more need for conversation.

‘Will you go up before me, sir?' Fanny quickly asked. ‘I shall be one minute. Make yourself comfortable. Mine is the first room you come to at the head of the stairs.'

He was an easy one, much less urgent than his words had led her to expect. His body had plentiful hair of mixed hues, bushy around his cock. His skin was weathered and creased. He was not the oldest man she had served, but his behaviour was fatherly. So much so, that she was hit by an image of her own father in the midst of their coupling and that was deeply unpleasant. It brought a surge of guilt and self-disgust that she had great difficulty in swallowing.

‘Thank you, my dear,' he said, afterwards. She was wet, his emissions leaking from her, but in no way excited. Little had been required of her, but to open her legs and allow him to find his relief. As far as bodies were concerned, it had been a simple matter. But in her mind, it was very different. In that respect, her fears of the previous day were realised. New complexities were intruding upon her thoughts, and this was a very unwelcome development.

He paid his money, having pulled on his clothes. Then he gave her a thoughtful look. ‘Not such an easy matter as all that?' he asked astutely. ‘I hope I have done nothing to upset you?'

She shook her head, feeling tears rising at the kindness. ‘We had a touch of trouble last night,' she muttered. ‘It…changed us a little.'

‘I heard about it,' he said, to her astonishment. ‘The man in question went directly to the bar and drank a deal of moonshine.'

‘He
spoke
of it? Has he no shame?'

‘He spoke of your hound and its aggression. Of the foolish prudery of you young ladies. Of his temptation to advise the lawmen of the danger you present. It was muddled enough for most of his listeners to turn away from him as being of no interest. But I happened to be close by, and I guessed his meaning. It was your friend he assaulted, I assume?'

‘Assaulted,' she repeated. ‘That was exactly so. She was very upset.'

‘She is young. And ye're both babies in the matter of men and their tastes. The learning can never be easy.' He tilted his head, still watching her face. ‘And yourself? Did you not have a gentleman of your own?'

‘Has he been speaking to you, too?'

‘Nay, nay. He slept a long night, and was off at first light. Never said a word. Just threw a sick look at the other, as if he were something foul, and got himself out of sight.'

‘He was a gentleman,' Fanny confirmed. She smiled. ‘Like yourself, sir.'

‘Such a thing as too gentle,' the man remarked.

Her heart flared, once again too huge and pillowy to remain in its rightful place. How unnerving it was to be understood! She felt raw and exposed, and a tear escaped.

‘Thank you,' she whispered. ‘We should go down.'

‘Be of good heart, young woman. The world is as good as it's bad. And none of it lasts for ever. I have been pleased to meet ye, Miss Francesca, and that's the livin' truth.'

He had lapsed back into his Irish voice, having lost it for the moments of insight. Was he a holy man, she wondered. A magician? Even perhaps an angel? Crazily, she thought of the angel Gabriel coming to the virgin and by words alone sowing a child inside her. This man had also more impact with his tongue than with his cock. She smiled again, amused at herself.

‘Thank you, sir,' she said again. ‘You are a very good man.'

‘Not at all,' he protested. ‘Just old and weary, from all I've done and seen. Be happy, my little dear. That's the great thing.'

No more men were waiting downstairs. Carola was reading by the fire, Hugo at her feet. It could have been a living room in any of the houses in town. Fanny's customer evidently thought so.

‘Ah!' he breathed. ‘'Tis a joy to behold.' He collected his hat and boots, and then paused before leaving. ‘Enjoy the spoils of this gold fever,' he advised them. ‘If it be that ye are sinners, then let there be some good come from it. The way I see it, ye deserve your rewards.'

Fanny resisted an urge to kiss his cheek in farewell. When he had gone, she sighed.

‘In love all over again?' asked Carola, somewhat tartly.

‘Hold your tongue,' Fanny snapped, softening the words with a quick laugh. ‘He was kindness itself. A wise man, I believe. He knew of your trouble yestereve, and was concerned.'

‘Concerned,' echoed Carola sceptically. ‘And how does that help me?'

Fanny shrugged. ‘Not a bit, unless you allow it. The world is as good as it's bad, he said.'

Carola moaned and put her hands to her ears. ‘We should both hold our tongues, it seems to me. I am not myself. My stomach ails me, just for good measure.'

‘That man has made you sick. Let me warm some broth for you, and we can lock up for tonight.'

Life continued for another month without further drama. A scattering of men passed through, most heading south, but a few returning from the goldfields, seeking to settle in Oregon Territory while there was still land to be had. Word came of a horde of migrants following the established trail from Missouri and Wyoming, families and single men in their thousands, making good speed with the employment of horses instead of oxen. The plodding days of earlier years were apparently over. Mules were in short supply, and the overworked horses were dropping from exhaustion, but still the tide of humanity came on.

‘We shall not see them here,' Carola said, with relief in her voice. ‘They take a different road to the south.'

‘As we have known from the start,' Fanny reminded her with scant patience. ‘They take the route that caused the deaths of so many in the year we came here. Now, I suppose, the road is improved, and the maps better drawn. But, Carrie, do you not hope to encounter those who succeed? Should we not finds some way to inform them that here in Chemeketa there is a good life to be had, with female company any time they wish it?'

‘You are suggesting we place an advertisement in the newspaper?'

Fanny giggled. ‘Perhaps so.' Carola made no response. ‘No, that would not do. They would never publish it, at any rate. But we could perhaps enlarge and refresh the approach to the house, with flowers and a lamp. We could devise a more attractive frontage, and provide added comforts inside. As time goes on, the men will crave female touches all the more.' She paused. ‘I have been thinking we need additional help. If we are to increase our services and attract more men, Hugo will be inadequate to the task. A woman should be here to welcome them in, at all times. We will lose business, if there is nothing but a large dog to greet newcomers at the door.'

‘It serves well enough as it is.'

Fanny gritted her teeth. ‘It does not. You know it does not. And the very woman for the task is surely Marybelle, if we can find her.'

‘She is not here. We would know if she had remained in Chemeketa. She would have paid us more visits. Why do you continue to think of her? What is she to us?'

‘Why so petulant, Carrie? Why does every word I say bring a contrary one from you?'

‘My head aches with all your plans and propositions. We have ample funds, a steady flow of men at our door, and fine prospects. What more can you need?'

‘The “fine prospects”, as you call them, will fade away, if we do nothing to attract them. Let me at least ask around for Marybelle. I should enjoy meeting with her again, for whatever reason.'