As she did every morning, Natalia rose an hour before dawn to start preparing the morning board for Company's residents and diners. Buzz's income had risen considerably when he had hired Natalia to cook for him and she suspected that he would have asked her back after Harley left even if Nicky hadn't requested it. She felt a strong sense of pride and security with the knowledge that her skills as a cook were valued by many.
After starting the large pot of porridge to cook and setting the bread to rise, she poured herself a cup of coffee and took it outside. The sky to the east was beginning to lighten as the sun found its way through the hills. The air was cold yet pure as a brisk breeze blew away the odors of humanity – wood smoke, manure and mud. It was this time of day she loved the most. Deadwood might be a rough town still full of danger and strife, but in the peace of the early morning, Natalia sensed its potential for greatness. She suspected it would never lose the storybook charm that had marked its beginning, no matter how large it might grow. She was glad she and Rafe were here to help it grow and be a part of its history.
As she sipped from the steaming mug, a cock's crow invoked the dawn. She pulled her shawl tighter and glanced down the street at the Gem. She noticed the saloon's proprietor standing on his second floor balcony and drinking from his own mug. His dark gaze swept the lightening street, pausing when he spotted her. He raised his mug to her, then continued his inspection of the town he had helped to build.
Natalia knew from her friend Jewel that Al Swearengen was one of the most ruthless bastards to ever walk the Earth, yet Jewel had told her how Al had rescued her from the orphanage where they had both grown up. Of course, Al had gutted the owner who had beaten them every day and forced them to work like slaves while under her care. Natalia shivered with the memory of the glee in Jewel's eyes as she related that story.
Swearengen also served the town's interests, Natalia had learned from other various bits of news and gossip, just as long as the town's interests served his own and he made no apology for that. In that, he was a sharp contrast to Alan Spaulding, whose underhanded machinations gave him an outward appearance of respectability.
Hoofbeats sounded through the dawn and Natalia turned toward their source. She saw three riders approaching. Once again, she felt a twinge of worry as Nicky, flanked by Sheriff Bullock and his deputy Charlie Utter, rode past her, each man tipping his hat courteously in her direction. Each man wore side arms and she saw that Mr. Utter had a rifle in a holder attached to his saddle.
Natalia's eyes met her fiancé's and she immediately felt reassured by the strength and confidence within them. As the three men continued on, she saw Al Swearengen following them with his keen eyesight.
Tossing the now chilled remains of her coffee toward the street, she went back inside to finish her work before she needed to leave for the Beacon.
The sun was well on its journey to midday when Gus and his companions approached the sprawling main house of the Spaulding Ranch. Gus had already informed the sheriff and his deputy of the events of the night before. Bullock's eyes had flashed dangerously at the mention of Phillip Spaulding's name and his hand had crept unconsciously toward the gun he wore at his hip.
Charlie had no knowledge of the package's existence and certainly had not given it to his messenger boy to deliver. The three men had swung by the boy's home on their way out of town, but his mother had said he hadn't come home the night before and had probably gone hunting as was his wont. Charlie had asked the woman to send the boy to his place when he returned.
"Nice spread," Charlie commented in his usual gruff voice.
"That it is," Gus said tightly.
Charlie glanced at him. "Must be hard knowing Spaulding means all this to go to that cocksucking, murdering son of his and not the one more deservin' of it."
Gus breathed through his nose. "I have no interest in Spaulding, Charlie," he said. "And there is no fucking way that bastard will live to inherit anything."
"Not if I have anything to do with it," Bullock said quietly from Gus's other side.
Gus smirked. Phillip's crimes ranged from blackmail to kidnapping to murder and Bullock was as committed on bringing him to justice – or seeing him dead – as Gus was.
"No one's luck can hold out forever," Gus told them both and then pulled his horse to a stop as they arrived at the house.
Built of the finest materials, the house stood in the center of a valley like a sentinel guarding the surrounding hills. The three men tied their horses to the post and then stepped up the stairs to the porch. Gus rapped sharply on the door and a few moments later it was opened by an oriental man of average height and dressed in a blindingly white jacket with a Mandarin collar and crisply pressed black pants. His keen eyes quickly assessed the three men and then, with a slight bow, held the door to allow them to enter.
"Morning, Li," Gus told his father's butler who also acted as his bodyguard. "We're here to see Mr. Spaulding."
"Very good, Marshal Aitoro," the Chinese replied, with barely a trace of a foreign accent. "Please wait here while I announce you."
Gus watched as Charlie looked around the grandiose entrance hall, his eyes taking in the lavish decorations and portraits lining the walls. Bullock, who had been here before, barely noticed the surroundings.
"A man who has to spend this much in order to impress must be lacking in certain other fucking aspects," Charlie commented, eliciting a rare laugh from Bullock.
A soft sound drew their attention. Entering from another room was a richly dressed elderly woman wearing a gown made of the most expensive materials and bedecked in opulent jewels. Gus inwardly winced as his aunt approached and he schooled his features into a pleasant mask of respect. Years ago, in an attempt to preserve the beauty of her youth, Alexandra Spaulding had resorted to quacks and snake oil salesmen and the result had been to give her features a wooden appearance. These days, she rarely left the ranch, but Gus knew she was adept at utilizing her keen intellect to control and manipulate from behind the scenes. Her exploits in controlling the various men she encountered were legendary and some even said she had the ability to make men lose their minds. Gus knew that Alan would not be where he was today without her by his side.
"Gus, darling," she said in a musical yet deep voice. "How pleasant it is to see you."
He removed his hat and leaned in to kiss her cheek, noting how cold and unyielding the flesh felt under his lips. "The pleasure is mine, Aunt," he said. "You know Sheriff Bullock and his deputy Mr. Utter."
"Of course," she said charmingly as she turned toward the two men who had also pulled their hats from their heads. "Sheriff Bullock, how are your lovely wife and daughter?"
"They're well, thank you for asking after them, ma'am," Bullock replied.
Alexandra turned to Charlie. "And business is doing well, Mr. Utter?"
Charlie's eyes widened and Gus suspected he was not used to being asked about his business by a woman of Alexandra Spaulding's station, such topics not considered appropriate for women of high society, but Gus knew that his aunt took no notice of such nonsense, especially when it interfered with Spaulding interests.
"Oh yes, ma'am," he finally answered. "With the town's population booming, the freight business is doing real well, indeed."
"How fortuitous for you," she said and then turned back to Gus. "You're here to speak with Alan, I presume?"
"Yes, Aunt," he answered. "Li went to fetch him."
"My dear brother was up with the dawn to supervise the castration of some first year bulls," Alexandra explained and Gus felt his ears flush; like Charlie, he was not used to women like Alexandra casually discussing such things. "He'll be back shortly," she added and indeed at that moment, Li returned and indicated he wished them to follow.
"It's been a delight to see you again, Aunt," Gus said.
"It has for me as well, darling," she answered with a stiff smile that barely reached her eyes. "Do come for dinner one night with that charming fiancée and handsome son of yours."
"I will mention it to Miss Rivera when next I see her," he promised then walked toward Li, glad that such ersatz pleasantries were over.
Along with Bullock and Charlie, he walked down the hallway to his father's library. Alan Spaulding was standing by the sideboard pouring a drink. He was dressed in denim breeches and a plain linen shirt, but even those simple clothes had obviously been custom made for him. His dirt and mud crusted boots were finely tooled and he wore on his wide leather belt a large knife in a decorated sheath.
"Ah, gentlemen, please come in," he boomed, waving his hand. "Thank you, Li. That will be all."
The butler bowed and closed the door behind him. "Drinks, good sirs?" he asked and at their refusal, shrugged and tossed his back. "So, son," he said directly to Gus, wiping a drop of liquor from his graying beard. "What brings you and these distinguished gentlemen to Spaulding this fine morning?"
"Emma's birthday party was last night," he began.
"Ah, yes," Alan said. "For some odd reason Alexandra and I never received an invitation to my granddaughter's party." He turned to Charlie, "I'm sure such a missive from Olivia was not lost by your establishment, Mr. Utter."
"Fuck, no," Charlie spat out. "My customers can trust delivery on what I fucking say I'll deliver."
"How reassuring," Alan said blankly.
"Alan, last night a package was delivered to the Beacon with a note written in Phillip's hand," Gus told him, getting back to the purpose of their visit.
"Indeed?" Alan said raising his eyebrows. "And do you believe your brother has returned?" he asked turning back to Gus.
"I believe there is a very good chance he has," Gus answered.
"Hmm," Alan said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "If that is truly the case and Phillip has come home, then it is a day for rejoicing."
"Rejoicing?" Charlie sputtered. "You mean a day for mourning if you, as your manner seems to indicate, you care for the son of the bitch, because I can assure you, Mr. Spaulding, that cocksucker is going to hang."
"Nonsense, Mr. Utter," Alan said swinging his broad frame toward Charlie. "My son is innocent and the sooner he faces a jury of his peers, the sooner he will be cleared of all charges."
"The sooner you can bribe said jury, isn't that what you really mean, Mr. Spaulding?" Bullock growled through his teeth.
"Again, you Sheriff, like your deputy, are jumping to false conclusions," Alan said, shaking his head yet Gus could see his father's eyes glittering with glee at the prospect of circumventing the legal system. "Phillip will be cleared because he is innocent."
Charlie spat in the direction of the spittoon and Gus guessed he purposefully missed, hitting the polished floorboards instead.
"Thank you for bringing me this news, son," Alan said to Gus. "And, in anticipation of your as yet unasked questions, no, I have not seen Phillip. He is not anywhere in the house or on the ranch or, to my knowledge, even in the Territory. Now, does that just about cover the purpose of your visit?"
Gus stared at his father for several long moments until at last Alan's gaze slid from his.
"That's all for now, Alan," he said in a low voice. "But on the off chance you do see the son of a whore, remind him that the federal warrant grants his apprehension dead or alive. Your plans of bribing that jury, Alan, won't come to aught if he's brought to Deadwood in a box rather than wearing manacles."
Without waiting for a reply, Gus turned on his boot heel and clocked to the door, throwing it open and walking through, trusting his colleagues to follow him. Before he reached the exit of the house, he saw Li watching him intently. The oriental man was standing perfectly still, except for his hands. Each hand held a hard rubber ball and were squeezing spasmodically. Gus could see the man's arm and shoulder muscles rippling with each contraction. With barely a pause, Gus left the house.
Olivia Spencer walked swiftly down the boardwalk of Deadwood's main street, her long skirts brushing against the slats as her high heeled boots echoed through the wood. The fall day had warmed pleasantly as the sun rose higher in the day, yet her mood remained cold after the events of last evening.
As she walked by the offices of the Pioneer toward her destination, the smell of ink and turpentine filled her nostrils and she found her path suddenly blocked by the tall and stout figure of A.W. Merrick, the newspaper's publisher.
"Ah, Miss Spencer, I wonder if I can have a moment of your time," he began and Olivia inwardly sighed. A moment for the loquacious Merrick usually meant more than an hour.
"I am in a hurry, dear Mr. Merrick," she said, giving him a charming smile. "Perhaps later?"
"Oh," he said, visibly deflating. "It's just that at the celebration for your charming daughter last evening, I couldn't help but notice you were suddenly taken ill. Miss Ava said you were fine, but I wanted to personally ascertain that you are in nothing less than the most robust health you have unceasingly displayed."
Olivia maintained her smile. "As you can see, sir, I maintain that strong constitution you so admire, Mr. Merrick." She paused as she thought quickly, her mind swiftly running various scenarios and outcomes as if she were calculating a complex series of moves in a game of chess. "However, I do have some disturbing news that might be of interest to a journalist of your esteemed ilk, and, as I said previously, it pains me that I do not have time for you at this moment. Perhaps you would be so kind as to come to the Beacon later and we can discuss how this dire news will affect the good people of the town?"
She reached out a hand and gave his arm a slow squeeze. Merrick's breathing caught and his face flushed. "Of…of course, Miss Spencer," he stuttered. "I am, as always, at your service."
"It eases my worries to know that, Mr. Merrick," she said and gave a final squeeze. "Now, I simply must go."
With that, she quickly turned on her heel and entered the Gem. Immediately her senses were filled with a miasma of tobacco smoke, whiskey and unwashed bodies. The interior had changed little since she first saw it, despite it having burned to the ground in the fire. Al Swearengen did not believe in changing what worked or wasting money for fancy decorations for hoopleheads who were just going to spend their money on booze or pussy no matter what the decor was.
This early in the day, the saloon was sparsely occupied. Two men, miners by their dress, sat at a table with a bottle of whiskey between them. Three of Swearengen's whores watched Olivia as she walked inside, their tittering telling Olivia they were gossiping about her. Behind the bar, Dan Dority stood polishing glasses with a rag and across from him stood Al Swearengen.
The saloonkeeper turned his head at Dan's signal and Swearengen's eyebrows rose as he took in her appearance. It wasn't too often Olivia had occasion to visit the Gem. Out of the side of her eye, Olivia noticed Merrick enter the bar from behind her and sidle up to the bar, his attention fixed between her and Swearengen.
"Well, well…" Swearengen began. "Look who it is. See Dan, I told you if we lent her the gimp, the illustrious Miss Spencer would come show her appreciation in person. Was I not right?"
"You did say that, Al," Dan agreed with his boss. "When you're right, you're right."
"And I'm always right, isn't that true, Liv?" Swearengen said with a smirk.
She ignored his question and looked at Dan.
"Get you something, ma'am?" he asked.
"Whiskey," she said and slammed it back the moment he finished pouring it, to an increase of the whores' snickering. Ignoring them, she said to Swearengen, "Upstairs."
Swearengen let out a long whistle. "This is my lucky day, Dan," he said with a sneer. "Cancel my appointments for the next hour or so."
"Sure, Al," the tall and burly man replied.
Olivia headed for the stairs, again ignoring the whores as she passed them by.
Following her, Swearengen growled to them, "Don't you fucking cunts have anything better to do? Go peddle that pussy outside if you have to, just fucking stay away from Bullock's cocksucking deputies."
At the top of the stairs, Olivia waited by the door to Swearengen's rooms for him to open it for her. She entered and sat in the chair in front of his desk and waited as he poured them both a drink.
Olivia savored the shot, feeling the smooth warmth of Swearengen's private stock flow down her throat and calming some of the panic that had gripped her since last night. Finally, she opened her eyes to see Swearengen watching her intently. She sighed.
Swearengen pursed his lips and said, "Judging from your obvious lack of sleep which wasn't, I'm assuming, caused by an evening of carnal bliss, and also from the departure of fucking Bullock and party at the break of dawn, that this rare, yet always welcome, visit of yours is caused in some way by that cocksucking ex-husband of yours."
Olivia nodded. "Your perception is, as usual Al, spot on." She reached into her reticule and removed the note.
Swearengen donned his spectacles and read it silently. "So Bullock and Aitoro went to Spaulding to see if the prodigal son was there and took Utter with them as backup." Swearengen looked toward the balcony doors as he stroked his mustache. Olivia felt a tinge of sympathy when she noticed his missing finger. She knew her friend had tried many times to get revenge on the bastard who did that to him, but there were some men in this world who were beyond his reach. Finally, he muttered, "Idiots."
"Have you heard any word of Phillip?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said. "His trail went cold a while ago, but if he is slinking about again, there might be new developments."
"Would you put some more feelers out?"
"I could," he said and then added. "And for you, Liv, I will. However, on the chance said feelers produce results, what then?"
Olivia pinched the brow of her nose in frustration. "I want him dead, Al," she said. "I want him dead and out of our lives forever, but…" she trailed off.
"But you don't want that sweet girl of yours finding out you had her cocksucking father murdered," he said. "Not like you had to with your older girl."
She glared at him. "I never asked you to kill Jeffrey, Al," she said through her teeth.
He smiled. "No, but after I found out O'Neill had worked for those fucking Winslows, killing the cocksucker for you was simply an added bonus." He poured them another drink. "Besides, I don't care for cocksuckers who steal pussy. It's bad for business and it sets a precedent I can't afford to encourage."
Olivia swallowed the drink all at once, this time not bothering to relish the taste. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with ashes. Setting down the glass, she said, "There are a federal and a territory warrant against Phillip. Gus promised he wouldn't let Phillip get his hands on Emma again.
Swearengen raised his eyebrows. "And you trust the marshal to apprehend the cocksucker, deliver him for trial and watch him hang?" Swearengen asked, then added. "And all this in defense of his niece?"
Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. "Gus said he'd kill Phillip if he had to."
"Oh, sure," Swearengen said. "I'm just saying that Aitoro's an honest man – he'd do his job by the book, but I'm also saying that you may want to consider he'd have a little more incentive to blow the fucker's head off were he protecting more than just his good friend and lovely little niece."
Olivia sat there stunned for a moment as the implications of what Swearengen was saying hit her. "Gus already has a fiancée," she pointed out.
"And what a lovely cunt she is, too," Swearengen said. "So lovely I'm sure she won't have any trouble finding another dupe to give her bastard a name."
"Surely not you, Al," she said with a smirk.
"No," he drawled, shaking his head. "Not I, but I do know another fucking Spaulding who has been sniffing around her skirts."
"Alan?" she asked. "That's just…disturbing."
"Will you look at the fucking pot," he said to the air, waving an arm in her direction.
"All right, fine. Point taken," she said. "I mean, look at the two he's had. I'm not the kind of woman Gus goes for."
Swearengen gave her slow smile and raised one eyebrow. "You're every fucking kind, Liv…when you want to be."
She returned his smile and for the first time since last night, it wasn't forced.
The average working shift at the Beacon for Natalia usually consisted of cleaning the guest rooms as quickly as possible and then cleaning the public areas, including the lavish dining room. Although she never asked him, Richardson often followed her around as she progressed from room to room, silently removing the used spittoons and chamber pots as she replaced them with clean ones. With his help, she usually was able to finish before the Beacon's restaurant opened for business and she needed to attend to her duties at Company.
Glancing at the highly polished grandfather clock that dominated the dining room, Natalia noted that she was indeed ahead of schedule today and would have plenty of time to visit with Emma before she had to leave.
Shaking out another crisply starched tablecloth, she allowed it to balloon gently over the table, and then used her hands to smooth the white linen over the table. While she set the table with the Beacon's custom-made china and silverware, she felt a presence and glanced up to see Olivia Spencer standing in the doorway quietly observing her.
"Good afternoon, Miss Spencer," she said with a nod and continued her work.
"Afternoon, Natalia," the hotel's owner replied. "And I told you, it's Olivia."
Natalia shook her head. "That would not be proper during the time I am in your employ, Miss Spencer."
Natalia could see the woman quirk her lips in amusement as she kept her attention focused on her even as she worked.
"All right," Olivia said finally, then asked, "You're almost finished for the day?"
"Just about," Natalia answered. "I will come up to see Emma shortly."
"Good," Olivia said. "I was hoping you hadn't forgotten to visit her after last night's excitement."
Natalia paused to stand straight and look directly at Olivia. "I never forget a promise, Miss Spencer."
Olivia stared at her for a few long moments and once again Natalia felt herself being appraised. Finally, Olivia nodded and said, "See you soon, then. Emma's looking forward to your visit."
Natalia watched her leave then placed another monogrammed napkin on the table.
Upstairs, Natalia paused outside the door to Olivia's suite to smooth the black dress with white trim that was her daily garb for work at the hotel. Satisfied, she knocked briskly and a moment later, it was opened by Emma's governess.
"Hello, Miss Natalia," Jane said standing aside to let Natalia enter. "Miss Spencer said to expect you."
"Hello, Jane," Natalia said with a smile as she stepped into the room.
"Miss Natalia!" Emma said jumping up from her child-sized desk where she had been studying her lessons, Natalia guessed. "You came!"
"Of course, I did," Natalia said. "Are you ready to learn some Spanish?"
"Yes, please," Emma said and sat back at her desk picking up a piece of chalk and preparing to write on her slate.
For the next hour, Natalia patiently sat with the young girl as she learned to speak and write the first ten numerals. Natalia was impressed with Emma's keen intelligence as she quickly mastered the new words. At some point, Natalia became aware of Olivia's presence, again silently watching the lesson before disappearing into her bedroom.
Finally, Natalia sat back with satisfaction as Emma perfectly pronounced the string of numbers, then smiled, obviously satisfied with herself.
"That was very good, Emma," Natalia said. "Your accent is perfect as well."
"Thank you, Miss Natalia," Emma said. "Will you teach me more?"
"Claro que sí, niña," Natalia said and then added, "That means of course I will, baby girl." She tapped Emma on the nose causing the little girl to giggle.
The master bedroom door opened and Olivia stepped out. Natalia saw she had changed into a new dress, obviously in preparation for supper. Natalia guessed she was planning on entertaining this evening.
"Jellybean, why don't you go lie down for a bit before it's time for dinner?" she said.
The little girl nodded and said to Natalia, "Thank you again, Miss Natalia."
"You're welcome, sweetheart," Natalia said and gave the little girl a hug before she went to her room, followed by Jane.
After the door had closed behind them, Olivia turned to Natalia and said, "Thank you, Natalia. Emma likes you so any time you can spend with her is most appreciated."
"I enjoy her company as well, Olivia," she said in reply. "She is a beautiful and charming girl."
"That she is," Olivia said.
Natalia glanced at the lengthening shadows outside the windows, noting that evening was fast approaching. "I really must take my leave now," she said to Olivia. "I must start the evening meal for Company.""
"Then I shan't keep you," Olivia said. "Have a good evening."
"You as well," she replied.
Hurrying from the hotel, her mind already on the tasks she had ahead of her, she heard her name being called. Turning, she saw Nicky rapidly approaching as he crossed the street.
"Have you just now returned, Mr. Aitoro?" she asked, noting the smell of horse and cold air that surrounded him.
"Indeed, we have, Miss Rivera," he answered, removing his hat for her. "We spent most of the day searching the ranch and the surrounding hills."
"All to no avail, I suspect?"
"No sign of Phillip," he agreed. "I just came to apprise Olivia of the events of the day."
"She knows you are coming tonight?" she asked, her eyes barely narrowing.
"I promised her last evening so I imagine she is eager for news," he answered.
Natalia bit her lip as she remembered how Olivia had dressed for the evening. It was definitely not in the manner of a woman receiving a visit from a government official. Then she smiled at her fiancé. "You'll join me for supper after you speak with her?" she asked. "I am frying chicken tonight."
Nicky's grin widened. "My absolute favorite," he said. "When we left the horses with him, Rafe said he would once again stay at the livery tonight. Charlie's horse is improved, but our son wishes to make sure she is fully healed before releasing her back to his care."
"All right," she nodded. "Then it shall be only you and I for supper.. I look forward to it."
"I as well," he said. "See you soon, my dear."
She watched as he disappeared into the hotel, and then glanced up to the top floor of the hotel. Olivia Spencer was standing at the window watching her. Natalia looked back a moment, then turned to quickly make her way to the boarding a house, a disquiet thread of insecurity running through her.
Olivia Spencer watched as Natalia Rivera hurried down the thoroughfare on her way to her other job, then she turned to Jane.
"Jane, I want you to keep Emma with you tonight. I'll have her supper sent up to your room," Olivia ordered.
"Of course, Miss Spencer," the governess said and Olivia knew Jane would ask no questions. There was knock on the door to the suite and, waving Jane aside, she answered the door herself.
Gus Aitoro stood on the other side, hat in hand. "Olivia," he said.
"Gus, do come in," she said as Jane disappeared into Emma's room.
"I'm afraid I haven't much to report," he said. "We searched everywhere we could think of for Phillip. Alan claims not to have seen him."
"Alan is a lying, cocksucking bastard, Gus," she spat. "Pardon my saying so since he is your sire."
"The true father of my heart will always remain Joseph Augustino, who raised me as his own."
Olivia nodded. "Will you join me for supper tonight? I wish to repay you for the effort you put forth on my behalf today."
Gus shook his head, much to her consternation. "That is not necessary," he said. "It's my job."
"Still, it would ease my conscious," she said.
"I have already promised to dine this evening with my fiancée," he said.
Olivia schooled her features to remain neutral as she placed a hand on his arm. "There are matters I wish to discuss with you – options regarding ways to safeguard Emma from Phillip." She watched as he thought.
"Still, Natalia will be waiting for me," he said.
"I shall send Richardson immediately to tell her not to wait for you," Olivia said. "She did say she wished to help in any way she could."
Gus nodded. "Very well, Olivia."
"Then please," she said, pointing to her bedroom door. "Feel free to freshen up before we eat."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly…" he started.
"Don't be ludicrous, Gus," she said and pushed him toward her bedroom. "Emma is your niece so it is perfectly acceptable for me to receive you in private. However, if it will make you feel more comfortable, I will go and send Richardson to Company and see to Emma's supper."
"All right," Gus said, finally relenting and Olivia watched in satisfaction as he disappeared into her bedroom.
Jane had Emma up and dressed and Olivia walked them to Jane's small room across the hall from her own. It was not uncommon for Olivia to ask Jane to keep Emma while she entertained in her suite and the governess was well compensated for her discretion.
Then Olivia walked downstairs and found Richardson scrubbing pots in the scullery.
"Richardson, tell Chef to have my private table ready in fifteen minutes," she told him. "I'll be dining with a guest."
"Yes, Miss Spencer," he answered.
"Then tell Chef to arrange Emma's supper sent up to Jane's room," she added. She waited while he nodded and then she said, "Then I want you to go visit with Jewel at the Gem for an hour, but try not to get in Al's way and stay inside. Don't go wandering around the fucking town, understand?"
"Yes, Miss Spencer," he said and grabbed his coat on his way to the kitchen to speak with her chef.
Her next stop was to the sommelier to personally select the wine for the evening. She knew Gus was not usually impressed by outward displays of wealth, but she thought a little warmth inside of him from a fine wine would inspire him to other pleasures. As she climbed the stairs to her rooms, she was eagerly awaiting the upcoming evening, which hopefully would have a most satisfying conclusion.
Company's dinner crowd was at its usual size as Natalia finished cooking the chicken. She directed Buzz's youngest son Coop to carry the last pot of turnip greens to the buffet while she placed the platter with the chicken. Looking around, she noticed it had grown late and that Nicky was probably not going to make it tonight. She was used to it; his duties as marshal often called upon him at all hours, but tonight she suspected he was detained by something – or rather someone – else.
Buzz brushed by her. "Delicious repast as always, dear," he said, pausing.
"Thank you, Buzz," she said, removing her apron.
"Have you eaten yet?" he asked and at her negative head shake, he said, "Go ahead then and enjoy your dinner. I'll have Coop start on the kitchen so don't worry about it." Then he swatted the hand of a man who was reaching for an extra piece of chicken from the platter. "Don't be a greedy son of a bitch," Buzz growled. "The lady hasn't yet had a chance to partake of this delicious meal she has prepared for you sorry cocksuckers."
"Sorry, ma'am," the man said and quickly moved away from Buzz's glare.
She smiled at her employer and filled a plate for herself. Looking around, she saw Charlie Utter eating with two women she recognized, but had not yet met. Walking to the table, she said, "Deputy Utter, how good to see you. May I join you and your companions?"
Charlie hopped up from his seat. "Miss Rivera," he said and then hesitated as he looked at the two women. "Um…well, I don't…"
Natalia sensed the reason for his hesitation and placed her plate at the empty spot beside Charlie's and said to the women, "Good evening, ladies. I'm Natalia Rivera. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, Miss Rivera," the finely dressed women with long blonde curls said. "I'm Joanie Stubbs and this is Jane Canary."
The other woman with her brown hair tied in a bun was dressed as a man, but Natalia noted she was attractive in a masculine sort of way, said, "Since this rude cocksucker has no manners, sit the fuck down and eat your meal." Jane gave Charlie a glare. He frowned at her, but sat down a moment after Natalia had taken her seat.
"Thank you," Natalia said. "And it's Natalia, please," she added to Joanie.
"I wish to thank you for your assistance toward Mr. Aitoro today, Mr. Utter," she said to Charlie as she picked up her fork and knife and cut into her chicken.
"Oh, that wasn't nothing, ma'am," he said. "More like a pleasant ride in the hills than any real law enforcing."
"Still," she said after swallowing a bite. "From what I understand, Phillip Spaulding is a dangerous man."
"Is that the crazy cocksucker who carved up the widow Marler's husband?" Jane asked as she shoveled another spoonful of Natalia's mashed turnips into her mouth.
"Yes, he's the one," Charlie answered.
Natalia noted the look that passed between Jane and Joanie, the fear flashing on their faces was brief, but unmistakable.
"Don't suppose this cocksucker would do the town a favor and hang himself," Jane said to Charlie.
"He's too crazy for that," Charlie answered. "And with his rich pappy willing to buy off an entire jury, he's not likely to lawfully hang. Best we can hope for is someone puts him down like the rabid dog he is."
Natalia felt a shiver run down her spine as if a sudden cold wind had touched her, although Company was quite warm with all the bodies inside. Deciding to end this thread of conversation, she said to Charlie, "Again, it eases my mind to know you and the sheriff are there in support of my intended." Then she turned to Joanie and said, "I believe you run a saloon, Joanie, but I don't think I've ever seen it."
"That's because it's located outside of town a ways," the pretty woman said with a smile, then added, "You should come by one night, but leave that handsome fella of yours at home."
Charlie coughed into his fist. "Now Joanie," he said and Natalia could see his cheeks above his beard blushing. "Miss Rivera is a lady. She'll want nothing to do with that joint of yours."
"Why Charlie Utter," Joanie said, her smile growing. "You know that every night is ladies night at Boston West."
Charlie coughed again. "All the same…" he began.
"All the same, you numb fuck, why don't you just let the lady enjoy her fucking meal?" Jane growled.
"Jane," Joanie admonished and Natalia saw Jane look at the blonde-haired woman with a look of chagrin – and something else. Then Jane turned to Charlie and shrugged.
"Sorry, ma'am," Charlie said to Natalia although he kept his eyes on his plate.
Natalia was curious about her two new acquaintances, especially their reference to the hanged man, but such things were not polite to discuss unless the information was offered, even when in the company of people who cared little for such things. Instead, she asked, "So you don't allow men in your establishment?"
"Some men, we do," Joanie answered. "Depends on the man."
"There are those cocksuckers who get their kicks looking like women," Jane explained. "Nancy boys you know, and of course the fucking inverts."
Natalia noticed Joanie smile indulgently at Jane and roll her eyes affectionately, the gestures giving truth to the rumors that these two women indeed shared the type of marriage the name of their saloon implied.
"And is it true that you were a scout for General Custer?" she asked. "I saw him one time at a reception my father held for General McClellan, on whose staff Custer was a member of. Although my sisters and I were not allowed to attend, we always tried to see who Papa was entertaining."
"Then if you saw the cocksucker, you know how he liked to prettify himself," Jane began as she launched into her story and Natalia sat back to enjoy her dinner and the company of two of the most fascinating women she had met. Then her thoughts turned to another woman and she wondered just what Olivia Spencer's intentions were for her future husband.
Olivia Spencer smiled across the table at the marshal as he spoke of the various contacts he had in Yankton who might be able to help her keep Emma safe. As he spoke, she studied his features in the low and intimate light of her private corner of the Beacon's restaurant. His face was long and lean, offset by his neatly trimmed mustache. His dark hair and eyes spoke of his Italian mother, but he had obviously inherited his fair skin from his father. While Gus had been her friend for some time now, especially since he rescued Emma and Phillip's other children from the hands of that madman, Olivia had never had any designs on him, she being too interested in the various Spauldings and Lewises – until now.
Of course, Gus was a Spaulding and while his familial loyalty was strong, his father walked too far on the side of lawlessness to suit Gus's tastes, which is why he suited her purposes. Al's suggestion she marry him was a sound one and one goal she intended on fulfilling as quickly as possible.
"While the warrants against Phillip stand," Gus was saying, "there is no chance he can take any legal action against you in regards to Emma."
"Phillip, yes," Olivia said, "but what about Alan? As the head of the Spauldings, he has constantly threatened to sue for custody."
"Threatened, maybe," Gus said, with a shrug. "But he knows that with the local authorities so far against him, any paper coming out of Yankton will be largely ignored. He won't risk the embarrassment. Better to stick to threats and posturing rather than get laughed in the face. He knows Bullock will ignore any such order, as will I." Gus paused to take a sip of his wine. "But with Phillip back, he might be concentrating on getting the warrants dropped and not even worrying about Emma. So I think your concern is premature," he concluded.
Olivia also took a sip of wine, then set the glass down. "Which is why I need to be fortifying my fucking defenses now. I need to know what those cocksuckers are planning so we can prepare."
Gus paused in thought for a moment as he chewed a bite of his steak. "I need to be in Yankton within the next few days to meet with a representative from Washington," he said finally. "I can try to prospect for any information from my contacts while I'm there. Perhaps see if Alan or Phillip has anything in the works."
"Would you?" Olivia said and reached a hand across the table to squeeze his forearm. She could feel the strong muscles under the cloth of his coat and she felt a stirring inside her that made her even more determined to have him in her bed before the evening was over. "I would be ever so grateful."
"I do not want to see sweet Emma come under the influence of the Spauldings any more than you do, Olivia," he said.
Olivia smiled warmly at Gus then looked up as someone approached the table. Towering over them was the large form of A.W. Merrick.
"Good evening, Miss Spencer," the newspaperman said, then added to Gus, "Marshal. So good to see you this evening."
"Merrick," Gus greeted with a nod.
Olivia motioned to her maître d' and the man swiftly carried another chair to the table. Merrick looked at it confusedly.
"Please sit, Mr. Merrick," Olivia said waving a hand at the chair. As the portly man seated himself, Olivia turned to Gus and said, "I thought maybe informing Mr. Merrick of the events of last night might enlist some aid to our cause."
Gus nodded and said, "A wise idea. At the very least it will inform the citizenry that Phillip Spaulding is back."
Merrick paused in opening his notebook to look sharply at Gus.
"Phillip Spaulding has returned," he said. "Oh my. This is dire news indeed."
Briefly, Gus outlined the facts as they knew them while Merrick scribbled, his pencil moving furiously across the paper. Gus also reminded him of the outstanding warrants and rewards while Merrick asked a few pointed questions regarding Phillip's prior victims and the kidnapping. Olivia only interrupted once to ask him not to mention Emma's name in print, to which he readily agreed. As the two men continued their discussion, Olivia watched Gus closely, impressed with his intelligence and poise. Finally, Gus reminded Merrick of Phillip's threats should his name appear in the Pioneer again.
Olivia looked at Merrick sharply. "Mr. Merrick, if printing this will endanger you in any way, then please do not."
Merrick smiled and leaned forward as he said, "My dear lady, if I can endure a thrashing at the hands of that dastardly cur George Hearst's minion, then I certainly can stand up to that lesser bastard Phillip Spaulding. Please excuse my language."
Olivia waved off the apology. ""Mr. Merrick, that cocksucker Hearst is long gone from Deadwood, but Phillip is not. You saw what he did to poor Ross Marler."
Merrick nodded soberly. "Indeed, I did, Miss Spencer," he said. "However, fear cannot fetter the press. The integrity of my paper is more important than my safety. Besides," he added, "after the incident with Hearst, Mr. Blazanov felt it necessary to arm himself and has even taken shooting lessons from Miss Canary. He has assured me should anyone again threaten my person or my newspaper, he is well prepared to meet violence with violence."
Gus laughed. "Well, good for Blazanov," he said. "You might want to consider emulating your friend, Merrick. It doesn't hurt to go about armed, even if it's just a small Derringer concealed on your person."
Merrick held up a hand as he tucked his notebook inside his jacket. "No, Marshal, I am armed only with the power of the written word. That's enough for me."
"Promise me that you'll be careful, Mr. Merrick," Olivia said, concerned. Merrick had barely survived the beating he took for merely printing a condolence letter to the family of one of Hearst's murdered employees and her ex-husband was crazy enough to do more than that to the newspaperman.
"You have my utmost assurances, Miss Spencer," he said as he pushed his chair back and stood. "Now, I have interrupted your meal long enough, so I'll just head back to my office and make room for this in tomorrow's edition."
"Thank you for all your help, Mr. Merrick," Olivia said.
"You are most welcome, Miss Spencer. Enjoy your evening," he said with a small bow. "And yours as well, Marshal."
"Good night, Merrick," Gus replied.
After the stout man left Olivia said, "Do you want anything else to eat, Gus? Dessert, perhaps?"
Gus wiped his mustache with the linen napkin. "No, thank you," he said. "That was a superb repast. My compliments to your chef."
Olivia smiled. "Then, since our discussion is now at an end, perhaps you'd be so kind as to escort me back to my suite."
"Of course," he said and quickly jumped up to hold her chair for her.
Upstairs, she motioned him to enter behind her and then moved to pour him a glass of whiskey.
"I really should get home," Gus said, holding out a hand toward the glass. "It's getting late."
"Just one drink, please," she said and smiled inwardly when he accepted the glass. She poured herself a drink and sipped the fine whiskey, feeling it burn its way down her throat and warm her stomach.
"Oh, that's fine stuff," Gus said taking a long pull from his glass.
"Finest aged Scotch whiskey," she agreed. "I prefer only the best."
"You are indeed a woman of taste," he said and then finished his drink. "But I really must be going. I'll drop by before I leave for Yankton."
"Gus, please don't go," she said and put her glass down. Moving over to him, she placed a hand around his neck and pulled his face down to hers. For a few wonderful moments, he responded to her, pulling her body close against his own, but then to her disappointment, he pushed her away.
"No, Olivia," he said hoarsely as he stepped away from her.
She followed him. "Why not?" she asked in a sultry voice. Reaching out her hand, she ran it along the front of his pants, feeling the prominent bulge within. "You obviously want me."
Gus stepped away again. "I'd have to be a corpse not to want you, Olivia," he said. "But I am betrothed to Natalia and I will remain true to her."
"Why?" she asked. "A woman who steals a married man for herself will not remain true. Surely you know that."
"I don't believe that of her," he said. "Natalia has remained faithful to me since we were young."
Olivia laughed. "And you really fucking believe that?" she asked. "She what? Raised your boy all by herself? In Chicago? And you never once considered for a moment that she sold that cunt of hers for the money to support him?"
"Natalia would never whore herself," he insisted. "She's an intelligent, hard working woman who did the best she could after I abandoned her."
"That's no reason for you to waste your life for a youthful indiscretion," Olivia said. "Look, Gus…she's only a maid and a cook. I'm a wealthy woman. What does she have to offer you that I don't?"
"She is the mother of my child," he said.
"Who's nearly a grown man," Olivia said. "So be a father to your boy. I'll even adopt him if you want and add him to my will along with Emma and Ava, but don't you realize how much of a force you and I could be in this town if we were together?"
"I know why you're doing this, Olivia," he said. "And it's not necessary. I gave you my word that I would protect Emma and I shall, but as soon as the divorce papers arrive, Natalia and I will wed. Good night."
Before she could stop him, he strode quickly to the door and flung it open. Olivia sighed as his boot heels clocked swiftly down the stairs.
As she closed the door, she considered her next move. "You will be mine, Gus Aitoro," she announced to the empty room. "Fucking Puerto Rican whore or not. You will be mine."
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