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He turned his head to scan the bar, tucking the entire bad memory away in a place he hoped it never crawled out of again. The saloon was near to bursting by the time he saw Betsey. She came around the corner of the bar in her too tight dress, her milk-swollen breasts all but spilling over the low cut bodice. Her hair was half up and pulled away from her face, the rest left to dangle down her back in curls all the way to her waist. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d run his fingers through those golden-blonde locks or inhaled the scent of some flowery soap she washed it with.
She pushed her way through the crowd, the irritation he felt at her refusing to go home, to quit working here, growing as those dirty cowboys blocked her way, touching her as she pushed her way past them. He sighed in relief when she reached the stage and took the three steps up. She leaned down to say something to the man playing the piano and moments later, music filled the air.
Betsey turned and looked out at the crowd gathered. He hunkered down a bit in hopes she didn’t see him. When she looked at the piano player and nodded her head, he knew she hadn’t.
The day he’d come in for a drink and saw her up there singing, he’d been spitting mad with only one thing on his mind—to get her out of here. He’d been so shocked, then angry, he’d heard nothing but the blood rushing through his head. He’d not even heard her singing. Now he did.
That first Christmas he and his ma and Sophie Ann were in Willow Creek, Betsey had sung a song at their school Christmas pageant. He’d not really paid much attention to her—he spent most of his time trying to avoid her, truth be known—but he’d heard nonetheless, and even as a child, he knew she’d sung better than the rest of them had. He didn’t realize just how much bettershe sang compared to them until that moment. As he stood there staring at her he knew why all these men flocked to the saloon at week’s end. They came for her. They came to hear her sing. To listen to her sweet voice that even now was causing gooseflesh to prick his skin. He couldn’t look away. Most of the songs were bawdy little numbers she had no business singing but there were others, soft, sweet melodies that caused every single person in the saloon to stop talking while they stared up at her in silence as if mesmerized.
His Betsey had the voice of an angel and he almost hated the fact he wanted to deny her an audience. A voice like hers should be heard. He just wished it wasn’t in here.
She sang for half an hour and he never moved, never took his eyes off of her, and he saw snatches of images in his head. Images of her singing to Samuel and a house full of other babies they’d make. Of her sitting on the porch of that house he wanted to build while her sweet voice floated over the valley clean to willow creek where she made him feel things he’d tried too long to deny. His Betsey was as sweet as they came and she’d loved him longer than he deserved. He didn’t deserve it now, but he’d spend the rest of his life earning it, starting tonight.
For once thekitchen at the back of the saloon was empty except for Ruby. Her friend smiled around the cigar she was puffing on and leaned back in her chair at the table.
“Now why are you looking so glum? I thought you’d be on top of the world about right now. I saw all those coins those bums were tossing up at ya.”
Betsey ignored her words and sighed heavily before flopping down into one of the chairs. “I don’t know what to do, Ruby.”
“About what?”
“About Aaron and Mr. McBride.”
Ruby sat forward, propping her elbows on the table. “Go on.”
She tried all the way from Jesse and Alex’s place to come up with a solution and she still didn't have one. “I think I made a mistake.”
“How so?”
“Well, I only signed that contract because I was mad at Aaron. Because I thought him and Morning Dove were together.”
“Is Morning Dove the Indian girl?” Betsey nodded her head. “And you’re sure they’re not an item?”
“Yes. I spoke with her and I don’t think anything is going on between them or ever has. Something about the way they acted around each other. I don’t know. They were friendly and acted a bit more like siblings than anything else. They’re friends, just like he said.”
“So—are you no longer mad at Aaron?”
“No. I really should be, but I’m not.” She picked at a cigar burn on the table. “I mean, there are times I still feel a bit stung by him leaving but he said he was going to make it up to me and he has. Or he’s trying to. He’s coming by almost every evening to spend time with Samuel and today—“ She shook her head. “He showed me a piece of land. Said he was going to buy it and put a house on it and I got the impression he showed me that stretch of land because he means to share that house with me and Samuel.”
“And you want that too, right?”
She met Ruby’s gaze. “Yes. I’ve wanted nothing my whole life but to have Aaron Hilam want me. For him to ask me to marry him. To have a house of my own full of blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies who looked just like him and now—“
“Now you’re supposed to be leaving for San Francisco.”
“Exactly.” She blew out a breath. “I don’t know what to do, Ruby. I’ve dreamed of singing since I found out there were places people paid to watch people sing and I’ve dreamed of being Mrs. Aaron Hilam almost as long and I don’t think I can have both.”
“Then you need to decide which will make you happier. If youpicked one over the other, five years from now, would you be happy with the decision?”
Betsey stared at the scarred wooden table for a long time, picturing her life in front of hundreds of people singing songs other than bawdy tunes nothing but a bunch of drunken cowboys wanted to hear. Picturing her life in a distant city with more money than she knew what to do with.
She and Ben never had anything growing up. With their ma dead and their pa a drunk, they practically raised themselves and went hungry a lot of the time. If it hadn’t been for the schoolmarms feeding them, they would have gone days without anything decent to eat and she’d dreamed of being rich like the Avery’s her whole life. To have so much money she could buy pretty dresses and hair ribbons and have so much food you couldn’t eat it all and Mr. McBride said he’d make her rich. And she’d been so mad and heartbroken she’d signed that contract without much thought.
Now Aaron was giving her soft kisses under the stars and talking about buying land and building houses and giving her looks like he wanted her as much as she’d always wanted him and her heart nearly beat out of her chest with excitement.
Someone knocked on the back door. Ruby got up to answer it and tossed her cigar out when she saw it was Miranda. Samuel was squalling, his hands waving in the air.
“I don’t know if he’s hungry or just mad,” Miranda said. “I thought maybe seeing you might calm him.”
