The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,83

the doors behind him and walked across the street to the livery. A few minutes later, the steady clop, clop sound of a shod horse could be heard as he rode toward his house at the north end of town.

Upstairs, Letty stood at the window, watching as the lights came on in the scattering of houses. Down on the flats at the south edge of town, a single candle burned. She frowned.

That would be Matt Goslin’s place. He was as stingy with himself as he was everyone else, choosing to eat by the light of one candle, rather than a lamplight like everyone else. She folded her arms across her breasts and leaned against the sill. The only thing Matt didn’t short himself on was his manly pleasures. Truly Fine had serviced him on a regular basis until she’d left town. After that, Letty had been stuck with him. It was enough to make her consider upping her rates. Except for Eulis, Matt Goslin needed a bath worse than any other man in Lizard Flats.

Her gaze slid from Matt’s candle-lit window to the small one-room shanty at the other end of town. For its size, it was lit up like a church. Letty grinned, thinking of the Dumas family and their three little boys. They were devils for sure, but they did make her laugh. Their latest stunt was still the talk of the town. Anting Eulis while he was passed out drunk had been a good one. It was something she might have done when she was a kid.

At the thought, her smile froze and then died. When she was a kid, if she’d had a jug of molasses, it wouldn’t have been wasted on a passed-out drunk. There’d been too many nights in her life when she had gone to bed too hungry to waste food on a prank.

Angry with herself for letting go of such feelings, she thrust her hands into her hair and started taking out the pins, yanking and pulling until they were gone and her hair was a jumble around her face. She didn’t want to think about her childhood. She couldn’t bear to remember how her mother had looked all laid out in that box, or how the Indians had peeled her father’s scalp from his head. She reached for the brush and started dragging it through her hair. As she did, she closed her eyes, remembering, when she was small, how her daddy used to love to do this for her. When the Indians took Daddy’s hair, they had taken the rest of her childhood, as well.

She sighed and took off her dress. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Not anymore. She’d gotten where she was by her wits, her willingness to let men think they were perfect, and would not offer an apology for either. She thought of Jim and a pain twisted in her chest. At least she was alive, which was more than she could say for some.

She tossed her dress on the back of a chair and slipped on her wrapper. Here, in the dark, alone in her room, her body was hers once more. She could sleep and dream, and savor the silence without pretending to bask in some man’s afterglow.

A dog barked suddenly—viciously. She glanced out the window then finally relaxed. Probably nothing more than a warning to some coyote that had come too close to town.

Her gaze shifted to the dark silhouette of Sophie Hollis’s house. The lights coming from there were not stark in the night, but rather muted behind the gathers of fine lace. Letty stared for a while, trying to imagine what life must be like for a woman upon whom society did not frown. Then she shrugged and turned away. There was no need dwelling on something she would never have.

She poured some water in a glass and took a long drink, then walked across the room to the bath awaiting her there. The water wasn’t as hot as it had been when Eulis had filled it up, but it didn’t matter. She and Will had a deal. Every day, regular as clockwork, she got her bath and Will’s customers got whatever they wanted from the whore in the red satin dress.

Her wrapper fell to the floor at her feet as she stepped into the tub, the water enveloping her as she sat. She would never be able to cleanse the filth from her soul, but she could have a