footses.”
Addie grinned at Welcome and decided she must have been a liver in her time. Maybe she still was.
In fact, Addie had two or three glasses of whiskey, or maybe four or five, before she went to sleep on the sofa. She was bad to drink sometimes, and when she woke up, she couldn’t remember if Welcome had drunk as much, or more important, what the two had talked about. By then, it was late afternoon, and Addie was alone in the house. She threw aside the coverlet that Welcome had spread over her and padded upstairs, glancing into the rooms, but the girls hadn’t returned. Maybe they’d pick up a cowboy or two in the saloons. Addie hoped they wouldn’t be too drunk to work. She felt bad about neglecting them lately. After all, she’d always considered herself to be a mother to her girls. After the business with Emma was done, Addie would throw a party for her two boarders.
Addie went into the kitchen looking for Welcome, but the woman was nowhere to be found. Maybe she’d gone to the chicken coop to sleep off her drunk. Addie wouldn’t begrudge her that. In fact, Addie had developed a warm feeling for Welcome. She went back upstairs to Miss Frankie’s room and poured tepid water from the pitcher into a basin, soaped and rinsed herself, brushed her hair, and put on a cotton dress. She wandered around the house again, but Welcome had not returned. So she sat on the back porch, wondering what Ned was up to.
Perhaps he was right. What was wrong with telling Emma that Ned and Addie weren’t brother and sister? He should be getting back soon, although there was no sign of horses in the west. Welcome had said they’d ridden in that direction, probably to avoid going through Nalgitas. Addie was thankful for that. She wouldn’t have to endure teasing from customers telling her that Ned had thrown her aside for a woman who looked old enough to be his mother. She fidgeted on the chair. Usually Addie liked lazy afternoons with the girls gone and nothing to do, but today, she was nervous all over. She examined her hands, picking off a hangnail and leaving a raw spot that oozed blood. Addie stuck the finger into her mouth and sucked on it while she shaded her eyes with the other hand and looked across the prairie again.
A bee buzzed past her ear and landed on a wild aster that had taken root in the naked ground beside the house. When the bee flew off, Addie got up and plucked the lavender flower, smelled it, and stuck it into a buttonhole. She looked at the barn. Maybe Ned and Emma had returned while she was asleep and had gone inside so as not to disturb her. She looked around, but there were still no signs of riders, so Addie crossed the brown grass to the big structure. She opened the door and peered inside, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She’d built the barn herself after she bought The Chili Queen. Besides room for a buggy, a phaeton, and a wagon, the barn had four horse stalls and a tack room, as well as a hayloft above. Addie loved horseflesh, although she no longer liked to ride a horse herself. Fine horses were a sign of prosperity. They were good for business. She liked to dress up the girls and drive them around town to stir up attention. Addie had sent a three-dollar money order to Currier & Ives in New York City for a picture of Lexington, a racehorse, which she put into a gold frame and hung in the parlor. Even her shelf for whatnot things had three horse figurines mingled with the collection of colored glass slippers and toothpick holders.
Two of the stalls were for her horses, one for Ned’s, and the fourth held saddles and bridles, since Ned had taken over the tack room. Usually Ned stayed with Addie in her room when he was at The Chili Queen, but she’d furnished the tack room with a bed and a light so that he could go there when things in the whorehouse got too noisy.
Ned’s horse was gone, along with one of Addie’s horses. She walked over to the remaining animal and let him
Addie grinned at Welcome and decided she must have been a liver in her time. Maybe she still was.
In fact, Addie had two or three glasses of whiskey, or maybe four or five, before she went to sleep on the sofa. She was bad to drink sometimes, and when she woke up, she couldn’t remember if Welcome had drunk as much, or more important, what the two had talked about. By then, it was late afternoon, and Addie was alone in the house. She threw aside the coverlet that Welcome had spread over her and padded upstairs, glancing into the rooms, but the girls hadn’t returned. Maybe they’d pick up a cowboy or two in the saloons. Addie hoped they wouldn’t be too drunk to work. She felt bad about neglecting them lately. After all, she’d always considered herself to be a mother to her girls. After the business with Emma was done, Addie would throw a party for her two boarders.
Addie went into the kitchen looking for Welcome, but the woman was nowhere to be found. Maybe she’d gone to the chicken coop to sleep off her drunk. Addie wouldn’t begrudge her that. In fact, Addie had developed a warm feeling for Welcome. She went back upstairs to Miss Frankie’s room and poured tepid water from the pitcher into a basin, soaped and rinsed herself, brushed her hair, and put on a cotton dress. She wandered around the house again, but Welcome had not returned. So she sat on the back porch, wondering what Ned was up to.
Perhaps he was right. What was wrong with telling Emma that Ned and Addie weren’t brother and sister? He should be getting back soon, although there was no sign of horses in the west. Welcome had said they’d ridden in that direction, probably to avoid going through Nalgitas. Addie was thankful for that. She wouldn’t have to endure teasing from customers telling her that Ned had thrown her aside for a woman who looked old enough to be his mother. She fidgeted on the chair. Usually Addie liked lazy afternoons with the girls gone and nothing to do, but today, she was nervous all over. She examined her hands, picking off a hangnail and leaving a raw spot that oozed blood. Addie stuck the finger into her mouth and sucked on it while she shaded her eyes with the other hand and looked across the prairie again.
A bee buzzed past her ear and landed on a wild aster that had taken root in the naked ground beside the house. When the bee flew off, Addie got up and plucked the lavender flower, smelled it, and stuck it into a buttonhole. She looked at the barn. Maybe Ned and Emma had returned while she was asleep and had gone inside so as not to disturb her. She looked around, but there were still no signs of riders, so Addie crossed the brown grass to the big structure. She opened the door and peered inside, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She’d built the barn herself after she bought The Chili Queen. Besides room for a buggy, a phaeton, and a wagon, the barn had four horse stalls and a tack room, as well as a hayloft above. Addie loved horseflesh, although she no longer liked to ride a horse herself. Fine horses were a sign of prosperity. They were good for business. She liked to dress up the girls and drive them around town to stir up attention. Addie had sent a three-dollar money order to Currier & Ives in New York City for a picture of Lexington, a racehorse, which she put into a gold frame and hung in the parlor. Even her shelf for whatnot things had three horse figurines mingled with the collection of colored glass slippers and toothpick holders.
Two of the stalls were for her horses, one for Ned’s, and the fourth held saddles and bridles, since Ned had taken over the tack room. Usually Ned stayed with Addie in her room when he was at The Chili Queen, but she’d furnished the tack room with a bed and a light so that he could go there when things in the whorehouse got too noisy.
Ned’s horse was gone, along with one of Addie’s horses. She walked over to the remaining animal and let him
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