“Thank you, Jane. I am trying to make a point here. We do serve drinks and hope to give you gentlemen a place to relax and enjoy yourselves after a long, dusty trip, but you need to understand a few things. The ladies who work here are just that, ladies. They are not for sale at any price, now or ever! In fact, if you stay in town long enough and are of a mind to attend church, you will see them there. I expect you to treat them with respect.
“This is not a bordello. We serve coffee as well as drink and there is food, sandwiches and the like if you request it. My girls will serve you, listen to your troubles, entertain you with song, and on occasion share a dance with you, if they choose to, but that is all they will do. Any man who expects more than that may as well leave now and seek entertainment elsewhere.”
“Pardon my saying so, ma’am, but there is no ‘elsewhere.’ You’re the only game in town,” a cowboy stated gently, smiling at Jane.
“Yes, I am,” Callie Mae agreed firmly.
“What if we don’t follow your rules?” a deep voice called out from a table in the back.
“Then you will be asked to leave.”
“How you gonna do that? A little thing like you can’t hardly make a man like me do anything he don’t have a mind to,” the man drawled, getting to his feet.
“No, I can’t make you leave,” Callie Mae replied confidently, “but this can,” she continued, reaching into a hidden pocket on her gown and pulling out her small pistol. “Don’t make me use it,” she said decisively, pointing it at the room in general.
There was a general consensus to follow the rules after a number of cowboys dove under tables and turned chairs on their sides for protection from the pretty woman with the small gun.
“Do we understand each other?” Callie Mae called out from the stairs, still holding her gun.
“Yes, ma’am,” several men gave voice to the decision.
“Good. Drinks are on the house. Give the men a round on me, Fancy, Marilee.”
Morgan watched as Callie Mae came down the stairs and made her way to the bar.
“Whiskey,” she said casually, ignoring Marilee’s skeptical expression.
“Really?” Morgan said with a frown. “Don’t you think you’re taking this to the extreme?”
“Not at all.”
“Well then, go right ahead, Miss Fancy Pants, and belt that down,” he challenged, nodding at Matthew who slipped up to the bar, flanking her other side. “You may as well, you’re dressed for it,” he continued, shaking his head in disgust.
Callie Mae picked up the crystal shot glass and stared at the golden liquid before setting it back down as his words sank in.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aw, don’t mind him none, Callie Mae,” Matthew said kindly. “I think you look beautiful. I’ll have a beer, Fancy,” he called.
“Thank you, Matthew, and I appreciate you telling me what type of dresses I needed to purchase. I really had no idea we needed costumes, for want of a better word,” she said as she smiled up at him.
“So, I have you to thank for this, Matthew,” Morgan said, sweeping his hand to encompass the girls. “Smooth move, kid, nothing like false advertising. Whatever possessed you?”
“Come on, Morgan, she asked me. What was I supposed to do, lie? I just told her what the girls wore at some of the other saloons I’ve been in and Callie Mae did the rest. I think she did a heck of a job. They all look perfect.”
“Perfect for what, Matthew?” Morgan asked. “If it was your intention to have every man in a fifty-mile radius drooling over them, then I guess they do look perfect. However, if what Callie Mae just said is true and this is going to be a respectable establishment, I’d say they’re a little underdressed.”
“Then I guess it’s just as well nobody asked you, Morgan,” Callie Mae shot back, picking up her drink. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed back the shot as Jane, Marilee, and Fancy collectively held their breaths.
For a moment, Matthew thought she was going down and he slipped a supportive hand to her back. He felt a shiver passed through her body before she straightened her shoulders, rapidly blinking her eyes.
Callie Mae made a mental note to never touch the vicious drink again as it burned its way down her throat, stealing her breath. Why, why, would anyone pay good money to have a fire breathing dragon lodged in their belly when there were so many more palatable beverages? It didn’t make a bit of sense, she thought, as the strength began to return to her limbs, but this was her saloon and she was damn well going to make a go of it. In the future, she’d have a special bottle of her own ‘whiskey’ behind the bar. If a man wanted to buy her drink he could, but it wouldn’t be this.
“Well, if there is nothing else, Deputy Whittaker, I have work to do and customers to see to,” she said clearing her throat. “As you can see, there’s nothing that requires your attention here.”
“That’s true, Miss Walker, at least not at the moment, but rest assured I’ll be around and if there’s any trouble, it would give me great pleasure to shut this place down.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Marshal,” she simpered, patting his chest gently and looking up at him as she batted her eye lashes. “But ah feel ever so much better knowing there’s a big strong man such as yourself willing to defend sweet little ole me and mah girls,” she drawled sarcastically as she spun on her heel and sashayed away.
