This Calder Range by Janet Dailey

you want, and wait until they’re gone.”
    â€œNo, I’ll be fine.” Lorna turned back to the mirror and lifted touching fingers on the lace veil.
    She was slightly amused by her friend. Sue Ellen acted as if she would be contaminated by the presence of the three sporting ladies in the same room with her. Although Lorna didn’t admit it, she was a tiny bit curious about these women who were shunned by respectable members of the community. As long as she ignored them, she saw nothing wrong with remaining where she was.
    Reflected in the mirror, she saw a henna-haired woman waylay Sue Ellen before she could escape into the back room. “Excuse me, miss. I’ve stopped to see if the hat I ordered has arrived yet.” Her voice had a cultured sound to it.
    Sue Ellen turned red all the way to the roots of her hair. “I’ll get my mother.” She backed hurriedly away from the woman.
    Lorna heard the titter of laughter from the other two when Sue Ellen disappeared in a red-faced panic. “Lordie, Pearl,” one declared. “You embarrassed the lady. I’ll bet her knockers turned red.”
    â€œShe was embarrassed by her own imagination,” retorted the henna-haired woman named Pearl.
    Just for a second Lorna wondered if that was true. Sometimes Sue Ellen seemed very preoccupied with the intimacies between a man and a woman. She didn’t have to dwell on the thought, distracted by a glimpse of a black-haired prostitute who had wandered over to look at some hats displayed near Lorna.
    â€œPearl. Jenny. Come look at this,” she called to the other two.
    With all three gathering near her, Lorna concentrated on her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t want to appear to be taking any notice of them.
    But the red-haired Pearl didn’t find it necessary to ignore Lorna. “That is a beautiful veil,” she declared, and came over for a closer look.
    â€œThank you.” Lorna’s response was coolly polite and nothing more.
    â€œYou must be getting married,” Pearl guessed as she was joined by her two compatriots.
    â€œYes, I am,” Lorna admitted, and caught a hint of envy in the woman’s look. She experienced a small twinge of compassion because no decent man would ever marry women of their profession.
    â€œYou’ll make a lovely bride,” she declared, and turned to her friends. “Won’t she, girls?”
    â€œIndeed,” agreed the black-haired girl.
    The third, named Jenny, didn’t look any older than Lorna, even with the rouge and painted mouth. “Who’s the lucky man? Maybe we know him,” she suggested with an arching smile.
    Lorna almost didn’t tell them, but she changed her mind. “Benteen Calder.” Part of her said she shouldn’t be talking to these women at all.
    â€œBenteen Calder,” the black-haired girl repeated with a quick glance at Pearl. “I think I have seen him around.”
    Lorna stiffened, but the red-haired Pearl quickly explained the blurted comment. “Don’t worry about it, honey. Dixie just means that she’s seen him in one of the saloons, having a beer. Girls like us don’t forget when we meet a man like Benteen Calder.”
    It sounded like a compliment. Despite Pearl’s assurance that she had no cause for concern, Lorna couldn’t help wondering if they didn’t
know
Benteen better than she did.
    â€œLet me give you some advice, honey,” Pearl said with a melancholy smile. “If you don’t want your man slippin’ away to see our kind on the sly, you’d better be wilder in bed than he is.”
    Such talk first drained the color from her face, then sent it flooding back. Lorna wanted to shut her ears, but she couldn’t. Somewhere she lost her voice, too.
    â€œI’ve learned a lot about men over the years.” The woman made it sound like a long time, yet she didn’t look any older than her