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Category:
Western
Publisher: Michael J Kahmann
ISBN-10: 1365051498
Pages: 84
Copyright: 4/23/2016
ISBN-13: 9781365051494
Price: $1.99 (eBook)
Funny thing about that New Testament part of the Good Book -- Never read anything since that treated the Whores and Publicans (didn't mention the democrats) so kindly and the powerful fat cats so disparagingly. It would make a good western if you knew how one of them Whores got rescued.
Mathew 21:31
Molly was a whore. Orphaned from bitrth, what chance did she have? But there is a fire that burns in some people, and unquenchable flame some would say, and that she had. She couldn't know that liberation would only require a train ride of one hundred and forty miles -- the distance from her Kansas City "house" to a cattle drive terminal at Abilene Kansas. And unlike a John Wesley Hardin or Bill Hickok or maybe a couple hundred thousand cattle, she wouldn't just be passing through
Excerpt
Molly Hester walked up the stairs to the second-floor office of Mac Walker, opened the door without knocking, and sat down. She had seen him come in earlier.
“Mac, find me a husband.”
Mac Walker was a hulk of a man pushing fifty with more gray in his hair than he liked, especially in his mutton-chop beard. He had always fancied himself a ladies’ man and at one time it might have been true. He was a natural-born hustler working any scheme he thought would make a buck. Molly liked him for his loyalty and sense of humor.
“Molly, get out of here. I have work to do.”
“I'm serious. Big Jim is ruining everything at the House.”
“Don't you own a piece of the action?” He knew she did.
“Evidently not. According to Big Jim, Lew gambled away my share as well.”
Mac put both elbows on the desk and leaned as far forward as he could. “I'll marry you, Molly. You know you only have to ask.”
Molly made a very unladylike gesture to his face. “There are only a couple of women I would not mess with in this city and your wife is one!”
Mac sat back and enjoyed the moment. To have something Molly wanted from him. This spitfire of a red-head was a legend on the street. To get past thirty in her business with her looks and shape still intact was truly remarkable. Her beauty and temper were renowned. She was rumored to carry a large-bore derringer in that little handbag she always had with her, and one time when she was working the line she cut a man with a razor so bad he almost bled to death in the room.
“Ok Molly, what is it that you think I can do for you? You can't be serious about a husband?”
“Come on, Mac. Somewhere in all that crap you push off on the youngsters you must have come across a real situation. An older businessman, someone legit.”
“May be, Molly, but even if I had how would it play out? I don't have a problem pushing off a young homely whore on to some lonely farmer, but in your case. . . ? Now you know I could fix you up with any number of businessmen up on Fourth Street. Your own apartment, plenty of spending money.”
“I'm serious, Mac. You owe me. Find me something I can work with. I'll take my chances.”
“Your chances? Damn it, Molly, what do you think will happen when your intended discovers your—your work history? And discover it they will. Hell, they might come after me!”
“I've thought of that. If I find the right man I'll make it work, or walk away if I have to.”
“What brought this on, why now? Looks like all you have to do is keep the girls in line . . . And you know Big Jim don't let anyone go easy. Could be some trouble there. I don't want my name in any of this.”
“Look, Mac, ever since Big Jim got control of the House things been going straight to hell. Every time there is the least little problem with the girls he threatens to put me back on the line! You know that's not going to happen—I’ll be dead before I do that again. But I know he's serious. Get me a name and location, Mac. If it's righteous you won't hear from me again. Something west would be great. If it doesn't pan out I'll head for Denver.”
Mac sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. “A husband,” he muttered, and again, “a husband for Molly.” Suddenly he sat straight up in his chair. “You know, there was a fella come in here not too long ago, seemed out of place like he knew he didn't belong . . . where is that paper?” He began rummaging through some papers on his desk. “When they pay in advance and don't come after me right away I figure it's my good luck.” He pulled a stack of papers from one of the drawers and started thumbing through them. “Here it is, the only one I have that would fit your bill. Nice-looking guy of some means. Didn't look comfortable in this neighborhood. Paid cash and left like it was a debt instead of a contract.”
He handed a single piece of paper to Molly with a stern warning, “Remember, you didn't get this from me.”
Scrolled across the top in fancy script was “Contract for Marriage”. Molly looked down the document and found the name Ethan Alexander on one line and only Abilene, Kansas for the location. None of the other spaces were filled in and someone had written on the bottom “Paid in Full”.
“Is this it? Don't look like much.”
“He was drunk, Molly—not fried, mind you, but clearly buzzed. Wanted to know about how this mail order business worked. I told him the usual, pay up front and with my connections I would find him a young lady of good character who would make a fine bride. I gave him my spiel about how most of my girls came from good families back East and if perchance either party was not completely satisfied all he had to do was pay her way back home. You can tell them lonely hayseeds anything, but it's hard to get money out of them after they've been over to your place. This guy was different, though. Didn't look like he'd been whoring. As I recall, he was somewhat distraught over a death in the family. At any rate, he paid the fee and I gave him a copy of the contract and that was it. Like I said, when they pay in advance and I don't hear from them for a while I call it good money. I only mention it to you because he seemed to be a gentleman of means and while I can't say for sure he seemed good-natured.”
Molly filled in several of the spaces on the contract, folded it, and put it in her handbag. “I'll have Leroy check on it. Say, how long ago was this?”
“Five months, give or take.” Mac got up and walked around to where he was standing over Molly. “Listen to me, girl, and I mean it in the best way. Leroy is a good man and your friend but remember he is a drunk. If Big Jim gets even a hint of your doing something behind his back . . . you know how that will go. So you be damn careful!”
“Thanks, Mac, I will.” With that she got up and left while Mac was still mumbling something about her not thinking things through like usual.
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