'Who?'
'The redhead.'
Strange, he was talking about Iris. Reba started to answer, but then she paused, stroking his arm. 'Iris is occupied for the evening.' She smiled.
The stranger lifted his glass toward the saloon doors. 'The husband, eh? That the blushing little bride was looking for.'
Reba chuckled. 'It's a good thing the groom is occupied. The maid over at the Haywoods' told Curly—Curly's the barber—that Mrs. Gabriel has bolted down for the night. Sloan Gabriel would need four horses to ram the door down.'
'Is that a fact?'
''Course, Iris says he'll do it. When he—when he's good and ready, he'll go over and break right in. Determined type. He doesn't take nothing off of her.'
'Doesn't he, now?'
'Not Sloan Gabriel.'
The stranger's lip curled. 'Sloan Gabriel, eh?'
'That's right. That's the man's name. Why?'
'No matter. It's just a good story. I watched the woman earlier. She needs a lot of taming.' He paused, sipping at his whiskey. 'You think Mr. Gabriel will just break the door on down to get to her, eh?'
'To teach her a lesson.'
'And he's here now. Right here in this fine establishment.'
'Ain't that a laugh.'
'Yeah. It's a laugh. But, hey, now…' He swallowed the whiskey in a gulp, then drained his beer. He set the glass down on the table hard. 'No matter at all. What matters now is you and me. Let's find that room of yours, all right?'
Reba nodded swiftly, coming to her feet. She took the stranger's hand and called good night to Matey as they walked up the stairs. She passed by Iris's doorway and hid her smile of secret delight.
Sloan Gabriel was in there, all right. Still sleeping away, after consuming his own bottle of whiskey. Iris had asked her to look in on him now and then, and she had been glad to comply. He was still sleeping peacefully, and his golden wife assumed he was enjoying the daylights out of himself. She didn't know why she didn't tell the stranger. It was a funny story. It was great.
But Iris had acted as if she didn't want too many people to know where she was going.
Reba shrugged and hurried to her own door.
When they entered her room, the stranger closed the door. Reba turned around, smiling at him. 'Want to help me with a few buttons, honey?' she asked. She sat down at the foot of the bed, a woman practiced with her craft, and slipped off her shoes. When that was done she slowly slid off her garters and started peeling away her stockings one by one. He watched her, standing by the door. Reba smiled with pleasure, certain that she had this drifter well in hand.
'What's your name, honey?' she asked him.
'Justin,' he said.
'Justin what?'
'Justin is all that matters.'
'All right, Justin, honey.' She smiled and licked her tongue slowly over her lips, as if she gave grave attention to her stockings. He was quiet, then he spoke suddenly, pushing away from the door.
'Turn over,' he told her.
'Now, honey, no funny stuff,' she said. He didn't smile. She added nervously. 'Honey, any deviation—any slight, slight deviation—will cost you a fortune.' Little pricks of unease swept along her spine, but she kept smiling anyway.
Her smile faded when he suddenly strode across the room and jerked her around by the arm, pressing her down into the bed, face first. He tore at her chemise and petticoats, ripping them from her with a vengeance. Gasping, smothering, she tried to protest.
'Shut up,' he warned her.
'No! No, please—'
Reba tried to twist around. He slapped her hard on the cheek, sending her head flying against the bedpost. Stunned, she still tried to resist. She hadn't the power. He shoved her over and down.
A scream rose in her throat when he sadistically drove into her. But her scream went unheard, muffled by her pillow.
In time, either the pain dulled, or she passed out cold.
When she awoke, it was morning. She felt the sun coming in through the window.
She tried to move, but everything about her hurt. Her cheek and eye were swollen where he had beaten her. She hurt inside, deep inside. She would have to see the doctor, and pray that nothing was busted up too bad. God, she was in agony.
She was afraid to open her eyes; he might still be there. She didn't feel him, though. She lifted her lashes just slightly. Then she dared to twist around.
He was out of the bed. He was dressed, and he was staring out her window, toward the Haywoods' store and hotel across the street.
Suddenly, he stiffened and straightened. She saw him set his hand on his gun at his hip.
'There he goes,' he murmured. He swung around, as if sensing that Reba was awake. She closed her eyes, but not fast enough. He came over to her, wrenching her up. 'You shut up, bitch!'
'I didn't say—'
He slapped her again. Reba gasped, screaming for all that she was worth. Matey would be up and about; someone would hear.
'Oh, no you don't!' He slammed her pillow down on her face, pressing hard. Reba twisted and gasped, and the pain entered her lungs as she could draw no air. He kept talking. As she grew dizzy, she could hear him. 'You ain't ruinin' it for me, honey.' He started to laugh. 'What's one little whore, when the golden girl is right across the street? If you're right, Slater is in there, getting through to her for me right now. I tried to get to her last night, but I was afraid to bust the door down myself. I might have had the whole town down on me. I slipped out, and I slipped back in, and nobody knew it at all. I came back to the saloon…and to you, too, honey. I'm gonna kill Slater, and I'm gonna make her wish that she was dead. You can imagine how good I am at that, huh, honey?' Dimly, she heard him laugh. 'You can imagine. You can just imagine.' He pressed harder and harder upon the pillow.
Her struggles ceased.
Finally, he tossed the pillow aside. She was still and silent. 'I wouldn't have had to kill you if you'd just known how to keep that whore's mouth of yours closed.' He tipped his hat to her. 'It's closed now, honey. Sure am sorry. It's just that you don't compare. No, ma'am, no way, you just don't compare. I'm gonna have me that girl, and I'm gonna kill that man.'
He looked outside. Malachi Slater was heading across to the livery stable. Looked like time to take a walk himself.
'Shannon!'
She had awoken, hearing him call out her name in annoyance. He banged on the door. She pressed her fingers against her temple and ignored him.
'Shannon, open this door.'
'No!'
'Don't give me a hard time now, Shannon McCahy. I've got to get in.'
'It isn't McCahy anymore, is it?' she demanded bitterly through the door. 'Get away from here!'
She waited. There was silence for a moment. 'Shannon, open the door. Now.'
'You arrogant Reb bastard!' she hissed at him. 'Go away. I'll never open the door.'
She heard his sigh even through the door. 'Shannon, I am going to try not to fight with you. I am going to do my best to get along with you, Shannon, because—'
'Your best! Malachi, go!'
