Read Online Wilda's Outlaw by Velda Brotherton - Free Book Online
Authors: Velda Brotherton
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It would be so much more pleasant if we were at least kind to each other.”
“Pleasant? Kind? Successful people are not kind to each other. We get what we want out of this life, not because we are kind but because we do not allow others to deter us. I desire a submissive wife. Marguerite kindly introduced you to me, and I saw in you the possibility of an attractive partner who would defer to my wishes. Who would be grateful to me for taking her…you, and I might add, your meek sister and odious miscreant of a cousin, out of that sewer in which you were living. I made a bargain with you. I will keep it. As will you. Nowhere in that bargain did I say that you would be my equal, that we would discuss how I should act toward you or anyone else, or that you would dictate my actions in any way. Is that clear enough?”
Teeth clamping her lower lip to prevent any further back talk, she nodded her head, then said, “Yes, sir, perfectly clear.” He was an impossible dolt, a dunderhead, what one of the stable boys at St. Ann’s called an arsehole. Wouldn’t Marguerite love her having such thoughts?
****
The next morning, garbed in the clothing Rachel had loaned him, the pretty English woman’s gold cross and chain tucked safely into his pocket, Calder rode into Victoria City to inquire about a job. Leaving his Colt and holster in the saddlebag, he stepped up on the boardwalk and headed toward the newly erected building where he’d been told he could learn who was hiring.
The room smelled of newly cut lumber. A lanky American sat behind a makeshift desk at the front of the store, papers spread before him. Certainly not the English fop he had expected to be in charge. A hand printed sign announced, SIX BITS FEE.
“My name’s, uh…Joshua Lane, and I was told I might could find myself a job here.”
Without speaking, the man tapped his pencil on the sign.
Calder dug in his pocket and counted six bits from the scant handful of change. “Do I get this back if it don’t work out…I mean if I don’t get the job?”
“Nope,” the man said tersely. “I still did the hunting and sending. No reason I’d give you your money back.”
Calder eyed the precious coins lying on the desk, then shrugged. What the hell? He didn’t have much of a choice, save to ride all over town inquiring, and that’d make too many folks remember him later. Probably wouldn’t lead to a job either.
“Well?” the man prodded.
“Okay, fine. What’ve you got?”
Nodding, the man studied several lists, tracing the words with a grimy fingertip. “Well, you’re in luck, then, that is if you can handle blacksmithing. There’s tons of work to be done, more than can be handled by the one man who’s took on the job. He says he’ll try out an apprentice. You interested?”
Aware he shouldn’t be too eager, Calder nibbled his lip. “I don’t need no apprenticing. I’ve done that kind of work, with my pa, when I was but a shave tail.”
“Then this might be just what you’d want. It don’t pay much, but there’s a place in the back where you can bed down, so that counts for something. Especially here where rooms for the hired help is at a premium.”
The situation sounded ideal, but he made as if to think more about it for a spell.
Two or three men who had lined up behind him grumbled among themselves.
The man stared at him. “Mister, either you want the job or you don’t. They’s others waiting.”
Determined to remain friendly and not attract attention, he held up a hand. “Sorry, fellers.” Then to the man behind the desk, “Well, okay.” He thought maybe he’d better ask about the pay so as not to look suspicious. “So, what’s it pay?”
The man at his back muttered noisily.
“Ten dollars a month, and lucky to get that.”
“Hey, you gonna bed down here or just set up a revival?” the bowlegged man behind him asked.
Any other time or place Calder would’ve whipped the smart aleck’s butt, just on
“Pleasant? Kind? Successful people are not kind to each other. We get what we want out of this life, not because we are kind but because we do not allow others to deter us. I desire a submissive wife. Marguerite kindly introduced you to me, and I saw in you the possibility of an attractive partner who would defer to my wishes. Who would be grateful to me for taking her…you, and I might add, your meek sister and odious miscreant of a cousin, out of that sewer in which you were living. I made a bargain with you. I will keep it. As will you. Nowhere in that bargain did I say that you would be my equal, that we would discuss how I should act toward you or anyone else, or that you would dictate my actions in any way. Is that clear enough?”
Teeth clamping her lower lip to prevent any further back talk, she nodded her head, then said, “Yes, sir, perfectly clear.” He was an impossible dolt, a dunderhead, what one of the stable boys at St. Ann’s called an arsehole. Wouldn’t Marguerite love her having such thoughts?
****
The next morning, garbed in the clothing Rachel had loaned him, the pretty English woman’s gold cross and chain tucked safely into his pocket, Calder rode into Victoria City to inquire about a job. Leaving his Colt and holster in the saddlebag, he stepped up on the boardwalk and headed toward the newly erected building where he’d been told he could learn who was hiring.
The room smelled of newly cut lumber. A lanky American sat behind a makeshift desk at the front of the store, papers spread before him. Certainly not the English fop he had expected to be in charge. A hand printed sign announced, SIX BITS FEE.
“My name’s, uh…Joshua Lane, and I was told I might could find myself a job here.”
Without speaking, the man tapped his pencil on the sign.
Calder dug in his pocket and counted six bits from the scant handful of change. “Do I get this back if it don’t work out…I mean if I don’t get the job?”
“Nope,” the man said tersely. “I still did the hunting and sending. No reason I’d give you your money back.”
Calder eyed the precious coins lying on the desk, then shrugged. What the hell? He didn’t have much of a choice, save to ride all over town inquiring, and that’d make too many folks remember him later. Probably wouldn’t lead to a job either.
“Well?” the man prodded.
“Okay, fine. What’ve you got?”
Nodding, the man studied several lists, tracing the words with a grimy fingertip. “Well, you’re in luck, then, that is if you can handle blacksmithing. There’s tons of work to be done, more than can be handled by the one man who’s took on the job. He says he’ll try out an apprentice. You interested?”
Aware he shouldn’t be too eager, Calder nibbled his lip. “I don’t need no apprenticing. I’ve done that kind of work, with my pa, when I was but a shave tail.”
“Then this might be just what you’d want. It don’t pay much, but there’s a place in the back where you can bed down, so that counts for something. Especially here where rooms for the hired help is at a premium.”
The situation sounded ideal, but he made as if to think more about it for a spell.
Two or three men who had lined up behind him grumbled among themselves.
The man stared at him. “Mister, either you want the job or you don’t. They’s others waiting.”
Determined to remain friendly and not attract attention, he held up a hand. “Sorry, fellers.” Then to the man behind the desk, “Well, okay.” He thought maybe he’d better ask about the pay so as not to look suspicious. “So, what’s it pay?”
The man at his back muttered noisily.
“Ten dollars a month, and lucky to get that.”
“Hey, you gonna bed down here or just set up a revival?” the bowlegged man behind him asked.
Any other time or place Calder would’ve whipped the smart aleck’s butt, just on
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