could see cruelty gleaming in her eyes. âSam was in town today. He says to tell you that your brat has the croup again.â
âTommy is nearby?â Penelope held her breath as she awaited the answer. During the past year and a half, Adele had had the Skolfields hold the baby in hiding places along the companyâs performing route. Having him near was an effective way to control Penelope, for it made Adeleâs threats terrifyingly possible.
It also made it possible for Penelope to see him regularly. It was those few hours with her son that made her life bearable.
As if reading her thoughts, Adele replied, âYes. If youâre wise, youâll remember that while you entertain Seth Tyler.â
âIâll do anything you say. I promise,â Penelope swore. âJust let me see him for a few hours on Sunday. Itâs his second birthday, and I want to take him some presents.â
Adele let out a scornful grate of laughter. âAs if the brainless little brat knows what day it is ⦠or anything else for that matter. Iâve seen smarter children in idiot asylums.â
Prudently curbing her impulse to protest Adeleâs cruel assessment of her son, Penelope implored, âI know what day it is, and itâs important to me that I make it special for him. Wonât you please just consider letting me go?â
Adele gave a noncommittal shrug. âIâll consider it ⦠if all goes well this evening.â
Chapter 8
âHow come them Injuns didnât scalp you?â gasped the saloon girl, her red-rouged lips forming a wide O of horror.
Seth stuffed another bonbon into her mouth, grinning at the way she wiggled her backside against his groin as she chewed.
âI was rescued by a fellow stagecoach passenger, a traveling saleslady from Chicago,â he explained, letting one finger meander from her lips to her thinly veiled breasts. âSeems she was set on making a killing peddling her extra-heavy cast-iron frying pans to Denverâs wives. Claimed those pans were thick enough to fry a steak to perfection and heavy enough to persuade a roving husband to stay home at night.â
With tantalizing slowness, the girl unfastened the tiny pearl buttons at the front of her camisole. âNivver seen a travelinâ saleslady before,â she murmured, baring her plump breasts to her new bossâs appreciative gaze. âWas she pretty?â
âAside from the fact that she was six feet tall and almost baldââ
âBald!â The girlâs eyes bulged with disbelief.
âCurling tongs accident,â Seth replied mournfully, though his expression was anything but mournful as he cupped the girlâs soft breasts in his palms. âBurnt her hair off to the roots. What was left stood straight up on end, kind of like an irate porcupine.â
âPoor saleslady.â The girl practically purred as she arched her back in response to Sethâs caresses.
âPoor me. Since the other passengers had gotten off the stage at Fort Lyon and the driver had headed back for help, the Indians were left with slim pickings as far as scalps went. Hers, of course, was rejected without a second glance, while it was decided that mine would make a fine trophy.â
The girl raked her fingers through his hair, pulling it over his shoulders. âCanât say I blame âem. You do have purty hair.â
Seth chuckled and dropped a kiss on her vanilla-cream flavored lips. âFortunately the saleslady liked it, tooâon my head. So just as those two savages were all set to scalp me, she came bounding up behind them bellowing like a raging bull. Before they could say âUgh,â she whomped them over the head with her top-of-the-line frying pan and knocked them out cold.â
The girl shrieked with laughter and threw her weight against him, sending him sprawling backward across the worn red velvet settee. âYer funninâ
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