Taking a deep breath, and squaring her shoulders, Rachael walked across the street, then up onto the front porch of the saloon. She paused for just a moment, then pushed open the doors and stepped inside.
The first thing she noticed was the odor, a combination of stale beer, sour whiskey, and unwashed bodies. The floor was covered with expectorated tobacco quids, and the towels, hanging from hooks on the bar, were filthy. At least ten men were standing at the bar, and that many or more were sitting at tables.
Rachael looked around for a piano and finally saw it, sitting against the wall just under the staircase. It was an upright piano, and half of the cover was missing so she could look in and see the soundboard. Several of the wires were broken, and two of them were even lying out on the keyboard itself.
Rachael felt a hollowness in the pit of her stomach. Her knees grew weak, and her head began to spin.
There were three women in the saloon, though Rachael had never seen any women dressed as these were. All three had very low-cut blouses and they were wearing what looked to be bloomers. One of them came over to her.
“Honey, are you sure you are in the right place?” she asked.
“No, she isn’t in the right place,” a man’s voice said. Recognizing the voice, Rachael turned to see Corey Hampton standing just inside the door.
“Mr. Hampton?” she asked in a weak voice.
“Miss Kirby, what are you doing in here?” Corey asked.
Rachael held her hand out. “I—I was told this was the saloon,” she said.
“It is a saloon,” Corey replied. He smiled at her. “But it isn’t the right saloon.”
“Oh,” Rachael said. “I’m terribly sorry. I suppose I just didn’t think a town this small would have more than one saloon.”
“No, I’m the one who should apologize,” Corey said. “The stage is always late. Wouldn’t you know it would pick today to be early? Shall we go?” He offered Rachael his arm.
“Yes, thank you,” Rachael said.
“Higbee has two saloons,” Corey explained once they were out in the street. “The Golden Nugget, which belongs to my brother and me. And the one you were just in. It is called the Hog Waller.”
“I beg your pardon? What did you call it?” Rachael asked.
“I called it by its name. The Hog Waller,” Corey said.
Rachael laughed out loud. “Oh, what a perfect name for it,” she said.
After stopping by the stage depot to retrieve her luggage, they walked down to the Golden Nugget. By any standards, the Golden Nugget was an attractive saloon, with a long, highly polished mahogany bar; glistening brass rings hanging every four feet along the front of the bar, each ring holding a crisp white towel; an exceptionally clean and varnished hardwood floor; gleaming tables; and a large mirror behind the bar that reflected back a shelf filled with liquors and brightly colored liqueurs. A huge, sparkling chandelier hung from a ceiling that was itself covered with textured brass.
Looking around, she saw the piano, not an upright, but a Haynes Square piano, rosewood, with octagon curved legs and mother-of-pearl inlay on the name board. She walked over to it.
“May I?” she asked.
“By all means, please do,” Corey replied.
Standing by the piano, Rachael depressed a few of the keys, and was rewarded with a rich, resonant sound. She sat down and began to play. She played a passage from a Bach Toccata and Fugue, then from Vivaldi’s
“My God,” Prentiss Hampton said, the words more a prayer than an oath. “I have never heard anything so beautiful.”
“Do you see what I was talking about?” Corey asked.
“Yes. What I can’t see is why she would choose to work here.”
“Well, she did accept on condition,” Corey said. “I guess now we’ll have to ask her if the condition has been met.”
Rachael continued to play. It was just before noon, and there were very few customers in the place to hear the music, but those few who were in the saloon interrupted their conversations to listen. Even the bar girls who lived upstairs, and who never made an appearance until around seven P.M., were drawn to the music, and they moved halfway down the stairs, then sat on the steps as they listened, spellbound by the sound.
In a strange way, even Rachael was spellbound by her own music, enjoying the beautiful tone of the piano as well as the ambiance of this place. Finally, when the last note hung quivering in the air, she sat there for a long second, letting the strings continue to vibrate with the last harmonic resonance of the music.
Her contemplation of the moment was disturbed by the clapping of those present, and because Rachael was lost in the moment, the applause startled her. Then, standing up to see the source of the applause, she saw that the four customers as well as the young women, Corey, and the man standing with Corey were all applauding.
“Thank you,” she said self-consciously.
“Miss Kirby, this is my brother, Prentiss,” Cory said by way of introducing the man at his side. “He is my partner in this saloon.”
Rachael extended her hand. “It is nice to meet you, Mr. Hampton.”
“How do you like the piano?” Corey asked.
“It’s beautiful.”
“The tone quality is all right?”
