Soiled Dove by Brenda Adcock Page A

to tell Cyrus about her new job and then get back for her first day of honest work. Before she turned to leave she leaned toward Mavis. “Who is that?’ she asked, motioning toward the woman at the bar.“Clare McIlhenney. Owns a ranch over near Spanish Peaks.”
    “I’ve never seen a woman dress or act like that,”
    Loretta said as her eyes scanned the rancher from head to toe. Clare wore chaps over her denim pants and scuffed boots. The long sleeves of her light blue shirt were rolled up to her elbows showing off well-muscled forearms.
    “Them’s chaps,” Mavis said. “They protect a cowboy’s legs when he’s riding through heavy brush.
    Some of it’s pretty thorny.”
    “She seems a little thorny herself,” Loretta observed.
    Mavis laughed. “When Clare first got here, she was soft as a down pillow. She had to toughen up or die. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
    Loretta watched as Mavis stepped next to the Hispanic cowboy with Clare McIlhenney as he picked up a shot glass and threw the contents into his mouth.
    He grinned broadly when Mavis linked her arm in his and drew him into a full, hungry kiss.
    “How long you in town for?” Loretta overheard Mavis ask.
    “Overnight. Clare needs to pick up a few supplies.”
    “Will I be seeing you later, sugar?”
    “If you can make time for a lonely old vaquero,”
    the man said with a laugh.
    “I’ll always have time for you,” Mavis said seductively as she leaned closer to him.
    Loretta watched Clare drain the contents of her shot glass in a single gulp. Her hair fell down into her eyes and she brushed it over her head with her hand again.
    Another saloon hostess, wearing a low-cut, red and black gown that displayed ample cleavage and was split open from the floor to nearly her crotch, strolled down the stairs and looked around the room.
    Her eyes stopped and a broad smile lit up her face.
    “Clare!”
    Clare barely had time to steel herself before the woman with dark chestnut hair flew into her arms.
    Clare lifted her off the floor and spun her around in a tight circle before setting her down again.
    “Good to see you again, Peg,” Clare said, leaning down to kiss the woman on a heavily rouged cheek.
    Loretta backed toward the swinging door to the saloon, prepared to leave. She stopped in her tracks when Clare McIlhenney’s walnut-colored eyes met hers. Clare nodded at her before turning her attention back to the others standing near her and picked up a second shot glass.
    LORETTA STOOD ON the boardwalk near the saloon for a few minutes. She had to return to the hotel and let Cyrus know she had found a job and would be starting immediately, but she needed a few minutes to gather her thoughts. She had never seen or met a woman like the rancher called Clare McIlhenney.
    She was a woman who apparently thought nothing of walking into a bar or mingling with the saloon girls who were so obviously there to entertain men. Flashes of the night she spent with Josephine Barclay swept through her mind. Their arrangements were made secretly and Jo had entered through a back door before the male patrons arrived. Seeing a woman act so openly like a man was unusual, to say the least.

    Perhaps everything was different in the west.
    Finally setting her feet in motion, Loretta virtually ran back to the hotel and burst into the room she shared with Amelia and Hettie.
    “Where have you been?” Amelia asked. “When I woke up you were gone without a note or anything.”
    “Where’s Hettie?” Loretta asked, breathing heavily.
    “She went to Cyrus’ room. They’re worried and gettin’ ready to search for you. Wait!” Amelia called out as Loretta left the room and walked toward Cyrus’ room. When her knock on the door was answered, she saw Cyrus’ scowling face.
    “Where the devil were you? Hettie and Amelia have been sick with worry.”
    “I’m sorry, Cyrus, but I’ve found a job. And I start in less than an hour. I came back to tell you I won’t be here until