A Lady in Defiance (13 page)

“Mr. McIntyre told me I was authorized to give you a
twenty-five percent discount.”

That made the bottom line a bit more palatable, but she
promised herself she would make a point of discussing Defiance’s cost of living
with Mr. McIntyre. “Well, I don’t seem to have much choice.” She eyed Mr. Boot
with a creased brow to emphasize her displeasure at feeling a bit railroaded.
“All right, I’d like to get them both−”

The front doors burst open and a suffocating cloud of cheap
perfume heralded the arrival of the Flowers. Everyone in the store watched the
giggling, swaying girls from the Iron Horse saunter in. Naomi quickly appraised
the brightly dressed, scantily clad, heavily made-up crew then tossed a glance
to her sisters. Rebecca and Hannah stood stock still as the inquisitive eyes of
the four sirens scanned the store.

Naomi had not appreciated their comments from before, but was
not going to let them interrupt her business now. As the soiled doves spread
out through the mercantile like wolves circling their next meal, she pointedly
finished with Boot. “As I was saying, I’d like to get both of these along with
all the necessary piping and hardware. Do you install?”

Boot was clearly focused on the swell of new females and all
the colorful, daringly low-cut silk dresses. Naomi cleared her throat
irritably. Boot blinked. “Sorry. Yes, ma’m, I’ve got two boys who can deliver
them tomorrow and get ‘em set up for ya.”

“That will be fine.”

“Right this way,” he motioned, moving toward the counter.
“I’ll get your total for’em.” She was amazed the man could function, so intent
was he on gawking at his voluptuous customers.

Naomi, in turn, felt their stares, especially from the tall,
hispanic one, as she trailed Boot toward the counter. Rose and her followers
had positioned themselves throughout the store, shopping and glancing at
merchandise, but they were clearly watching Naomi and her sisters. As Boot
tallied up and went to the shelves repeatedly to check for hardware, Naomi
leaned her hip on the counter and crossed her arms. Trying to look like she
wasn’t interested in a fight, she casually surveyed the store.

A pale, willowy girl wandered the closest to Rebecca and
Hannah and was fingering a bolt of lilac-and-daisy cotton that Rebecca and
Naomi had noticed on their previous visit. It wasn’t hard to miss, specifically
because it was only the feminine fabric in the store.

Hannah’s eyes brightened. “Isn’t that pretty?” Startled, the
girl looked up and backed away slightly as Hannah stepped closer. “I love tiny,
little flowers like that. Wouldn’t it look nice with these buttons?” She showed
her the brass buttons she had picked out. “They’re a little big, but this store
is obviously more focused on clothing the men in Defiance. The pattern book is
nothing but men’s shirts.” She focused a polite but direct stare on the jittery
girl. “Do you sew?”

“N-No,” the girl stammered, her eyes wide and searching the
store over Hannah’s shoulder. “At least, not in a long time.” Her worried gaze
found Rose and the Hispanic woman fired back an ugly, warning look. Naomi
didn’t miss the exchange and assumed Hannah hadn’t either. Clearly, Rose didn’t
want this girl speaking to strangers.

One of the other soiled doves, in her late twenties with
vibrant red hair and wearing a shocking purple dress, sauntered boldly over to
where Rebecca was flipping through the pattern book. The girl leaned in to take
a look, brazenly muscling Rebecca out of the way. More than willing to walk
away from trouble, Rebecca took Hannah’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get these and a
sewing kit and go start some dresses.” Naomi bit her tongue, consciously trying
to stay out of Rebecca’s business as her sisters walked up to join her.

Approaching the counter, Hannah noticed the jars, dozens of
them, filled with bright, colorful candy and her eyes shimmered with wonder.
“Oh, Rebecca, look at that: licorice.”

Rebecca surveyed the confections. “And peppermint sticks.”

In spite of the glares burning holes in the back of their
heads, Naomi grinned. “I take it you two would like a little candy?” It had
been months since they had even seen candy, much less tasted any. She looked up
at Boot, who was grinning as well, albeit nervously.

Rose slithered up just then and draped herself over the
tempting sweets. She was wearing a faded yellow gown cut so low Naomi thought
her breasts might spill out if the woman breathed wrong. Her hair was twisted
up in an elegant style, but she looked cheap and worn. Youth and beauty were
fading away, leaving something dark and bitter in their place.

“What about horehound drops,” Rose asked, challenging the
sisters with a cool smile. “They’re my favorite.”

Hannah and Rebecca’s own smiles froze. Naomi straightened up and
rested one fist on her hip. She made no attempt to hide her disdain for Rose’s
impertinence. For a fraction of a second, Naomi thought the woman seemed taken
aback by her nerve. She wondered if this evil wench was expecting to roll right
over them. If she was, then she had another think coming.

Rose pointed at herself. “I’m Rose.” She motioned to the redhead.
“That’s Iris...and Lily,” the negro girl nodded. “And the frail wildflower over
there is Daisy. We make up what the gentlemen in this town call The Garden.”
Iris and Lily sniggered, apparently over the use of the word
gentlemen
.
“And I would advise you not to look down your nose at me like that.” Her voice
held a venomous warning. “We’re the ones who really run this town, not the men.
Give us any trouble and we’ll run you out.”

Naomi immediately thought of hers and John’s frustrating
meeting with Frank Page just prior to leaving Cary. Shooting off her mouth then
had only made her feel small and foolish. While the burden of her grief and
anger were almost more than she could bear, if she lost her temper again, that
would only give this trollop what she had come looking for. A dozen responses
rose to Naomi’s lips, but she bit them all back. Her sisters’ pleading eyes
helped her find the self-control that was so often elusive.
Lord, help me
keep my cool.

 Through clenched teeth, she said simply, “We don’t want
any trouble.”

“No, I guess you don’t.” Rose straightened to her full
height, a good head taller than Naomi. “So you were heading to California, huh?
Mr. McIntyre thinks you are crazy. He called you Bible-toters. You know this
word, yes?” The description caught Naomi off guard and she couldn’t help but
laugh, as did Hannah and Rebecca. “You think it is funny?”

Despite the tension in the air, the laughter wouldn’t leave
Naomi’s voice. “Yes, actually I do. I guess we are crazy little Bible-toters.”

“He said your god told you to come here.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Does he show you things, too?”

Somehow, Naomi understood exactly what the woman was asking
and the laughter died. There was a bottomless darkness in Rose’s eyes that sent
a chill up her spine. But Naomi also unexpectedly felt a power surge through
her and the birth of a steely determination. In an admission that came
grudgingly, Naomi told Rose, “I know that God’s called us here and nobody other
than God is going to run us out.”

Fire flickered in Rose’s eyes then she shut them as if
thinking. Confused, Naomi thought for an instant the woman was about to swoon,
but Rose’s eyes fluttered open again and she gazed piercingly at Hannah.
Appraising Naomi’s sister carefully, slowly, from top to bottom, Rose’s
scrutiny returned abruptly to the girl’s barely protruding abdomen. Hannah and
Naomi exchanged puzzled looks.

“Well, look here at the
gringa
baby with a bun in the
oven!” Every person in the store sucked in a shocked gasped. Hannah’s face
turned ash gray as Rose’s blood-red lips curved into a sneer. “Where’s the
papa?”

“He walked out on her.” Naomi knew she had offered the
explanation too quickly.

Hannah swallowed and raised her chin. “I can speak for
myself.”

“Really?” Rose took a step closer. “Were you married?”

“Explain to me how that’s any of your business,” Naomi
snarled, inching her way in front of Hannah.

Like a serpent, Rose struck out and grabbed Hannah’s left
hand. Bringing it to eye level for examination she cried triumphantly, “Ha! No
ring, no sign of a ring!” Lips curled back in contempt, she tossed Hannah’s
hand away as if she were discarding a piece of trash. “At least we’re smart
enough to get
paid
for lying on our backs.”

Sick of watching Hannah suffer, the last cord holding Naomi’s
self-control snapped. She opened her mouth to launch an attack on this
arrogant, prideful know-it-all that would have blistered her skin, but Rose
beat her to it. “You are really something. Come waltzing in here with your
oh-so-pious attitudes, acting so saintly.” She drew her hands up in front of
her in prayer. “Oh, don’t touch us. We’re so pure and chaste. We say our Hail
Mary every morning.” She shook her head, sure of her indictment: “You’re no
different than us.”

Jaws clenched and her brain burning, Naomi pushed Hannah
aside and stepped in toe-to-toe with Rose. Eager to throw a well-aimed punch
right into the woman’s big, red lips, she barked, “We’re nothing like you−”

“Why Rose, darlin’,” Mr. McIntyre called loudly from the
doorway. “There you are.” He strolled in, casually lighting a cheroot as if
nothing in the world was wrong. “There are customers over at the saloon asking
after you. Go tend to them….” His words were calm and soft, but edged with a
steel bite as he shook the match and tossed it aside. He firmly shouldered a
resistant Naomi out of the way and blew a cloud of smoke into Rose’s face. “If
I wasn’t clear, I meant now.”

Rose’s gaze flicked quickly between him and Naomi, and Naomi
saw the fear. With a searing last glance at the both of them, Rose whirled and
stomped out of the store as if Mr. McIntyre’s words were commandments from God
himself. Mr. McIntyre stared at the floor, chewing on the smoldering cheroot
and the situation.

His slow, measured breathing told Naomi that things here were
not to his liking. Not at all. “Don’t cross swords with her, Mrs. Miller.” He
turned to face her and Naomi saw concern−for whom or what, she wasn’t
sure. “You will not dissuade Rose with a belligerent voice or the heel of your
boot. If you fight with her, you will be fighting for your life...and your
sisters need you alive. I’m not always going to be just across the street to
come to your rescue.”

Arrogance and pride pushed Naomi to argue with him. Rebecca
quickly placed a restraining hand on her sister’s shoulder and begged her with
her eyes to let it go. “She’ll be careful, Mr. McIntyre,” Rebecca promised with
a warning look for her sister. “We all will.” Mr. McIntyre nodded and marched
out the door.

Boot waited for the door to slam shut, and then whistled a
relieved tune. “You may never know how much of a favor he did for you, little
lady.” He sounded as if he had just seen a narrowly averted train wreck. “Rose
is mean and she ain’t afraid to draw blood. Lots of it.”

Naomi didn’t really hear. She was still staring out the door.
Mr. McIntyre caught Rose on the front steps of the Iron Horse. With what looked
like a fierce grip on her arm, he shoved her roughly through the bat wing doors
into the darkness of the saloon. Naomi was surprised at herself for wondering
if he would hurt her. She didn’t wish a beating on anybody, even that
particular she-devil, but she was also hoping that Rose would let things pass.

Slowly coming back to the moment, Naomi looked at Rebecca
with raised eyebrows and an incredulous shake of her head. Jittery and weak,
but trying to calm her nerves, she turned toward Mr. Boot and looked at the
ticket on the counter. “Is that the total?”

“Yes, ma’m. That includes the delivery and installation. I
took twenty-five percent off that as well.”

“Fine, thank you.” She began digging in the little reticule
hanging on her wrist to find a small roll of bills. Her hand and her mind
wouldn’t work to¬gether, however, as she kept counting through the bills over
and over.

Mercifully, Rebecca reached over to take the purse off her
wrist. “I’ll count it out.”

Naomi let her slip the purse off and watched quietly as her
sister paid Boot. Naomi could not believe the viciousness of the woman or,
sadly, her own willingness to fight. There had almost been a catfight in this
store that would have made the prostitutes fighting in the street look like
toddlers in a sandbox. Naomi had to admit Mr. McIntyre’s timely arrival probably
had averted a disaster. Oh, why was everyone in this horrible town bent on
bringing out the worst in her? And why couldn’t she stop taking the bait?

While Naomi and Rebecca handled paying for their items,
Hannah took the opportunity to walk back to Daisy, who was now flanked by the
redhead and the Negro girl. All three were still wearing shocked expressions.
Sensing that Daisy was the one with the softest heart, Hannah was willing to be
mocked by the other two for reaching out. “Why does she dislike us so? We
couldn’t possibly have done anything to her. We haven’t been in town long
enough to offend anybody.”

Daisy straightened up to talk. The fear of Rose that Hannah
had seen in her eyes a few minutes ago was gone. “Rose is crazy. She doesn’t
take to strangers anyway and she’s jealous of your sister.”