Quick update for you - enjoy!
As she followed Phoebe up the stairs to where Hearst waited for them, Catherine replayed the conversation over and over in her mind. Al had been so direct, so open, with a secret that she had believed was truly that. There were few in camp who had known of it and now, now she feared that soon everyone would know and she would be forced to answer questions that she wasn't ready for.
"Thank you for acceding to my request," Hearst said, when they entered the chamber. "I apologise for calling to you once again in the thoroughfare, though you must be used to that from me by now."
"And before your time," Catherine said, "my own husband thinks nothing of doing it."
"Please," he motioned to the chair by the window and she sat in it, Phoebe taking her place on the low chaise beside her husband. "I appreciate this might come somewhat out of the blue, Mrs Swearengen, but I have discussed this with Phoebe and she is in agreement with me."
"I am?" Phoebe asked innocently.
"My dear, we discussed it but a few short nights ago," Hearst said, patting her hand. "Indeed, it was your own suggestion." Phoebe stared at him. "To invite Mrs Swearengen to accompany you home to San Francisco for a visit, when the time comes that is."
"Of course!" Phoebe exclaimed, clapping her hands together and turning shining eyes on her new friend. "How could I have forgotten such a thing?!"
"San Francisco?" Catherine echoed. It was a place she had heard of, read about and yet had never imagined in her wildest dreams that she would ever see.
"My wife speaks very highly of you, Mrs Swearengen, and expressed the opinion that you might find yourself very much at home in our fair city. From what I myself have observed of you, I do believe her opinion is well founded."
"I...I don't know what to say," she said, her brain completely overwhelmed. "I..."
"You need not answer now," Hearst said hurriedly, "My business interests keep me here for perhaps another week at most and there would be much to consider on your side before undertaking such a journey. Discussion with your husband, of course, as to whether he would allow you to make the trip. I doubt we are liable to persuade Mr Swearengen to travel with you."
"Oh Catherine..." Phoebe exclaimed, her expression suddenly downcast. "After everything that's just been said..." Hearst frowned. "George..." Phoebe put her hand to her chest. "It would seem, if I have understood matters correctly, that Catherine and Mr Swearengen are to divorce! Why, only a few moments ago he was advising her on the imminent valuation of her settlement!"
"Divorce?" Hearst echoed. "Well I am most grieved to hear that if it be the truth."
"Yes..." Catherine said softly. "It is the truth."
"Then perhaps you might consider a more permanent move to the city, if there be nothing here to hold you to the camp and you find yourself with the appropriate funds." He looked at her earnestly. "I know how much Phoebe would enjoy your company and it could be the start of a whole new life for you."
"Yes," she said again, the idea becoming more and more appealing the more she thought on it. "Yes it certainly could..."
XXXX
Relief flooded Al when he saw Catherine walk into the Gem later that evening to take her turn watching over the whores. Their interaction in the thoroughfare had been ill-timed given the following request made by Hearst and he worried that it had only served to make her more disposed to whatever it was he had discussed with her. He was sure that he would never forget the devastation he had seen in her eyes. As she approached the bar now, however, she met his gaze and he found that he couldn't read her eyes. They appeared almost dead to him in a way that he had never seen before.
His fingers closed around the piece of paper secreted in his pocket bearing the value of her share of the Gem. The Jew had taken but a few short hours to reach a conclusion and Al had added a little extra to the calculation in an attempt to assuage his own feelings of guilt at the transaction.
As she took a drink from Davie, he moved over towards her, taking the paper out of his breast pocket.
"Duty done with the Hearst woman?" he enquired, stopping in front of her.
"For today, at least," she replied, meeting his gaze only briefly before casting it around the room, instinct leading her straight to the girls.
"Good." He itched to ask her what had subsequently transpired in the hotel, but elected instead to spare himself the inevitable rebuke querying would bring. "I have this for you."
"What is it?" she asked, as he held it out to her.
"The value of your share in this place, independently verified by the Jew." She took it from him, opened it and read the figure, her expression betraying nothing. "I trust it meets with your approval."
She pocketed it in her dress. "I'll show it to my lawyer tomorrow. He'll know best how to judge it."
"Figure ain't going to change."
"I'm aware of that."
"I can but hope, that you might chose continued partnership here than the alternative of the gold."
"And why would you hope that?" Catherine asked raising her chin defiantly. "We are nothing to each other anymore." She turned away. "You'll have an answer from me by this time tomorrow."
XXXX
"San Francisco?" Trixie echoed as they sat at a table in the corner, she having ventured into her old place of employment to seek Catherine out and question her more about what had transpired between herself and Al. "You mean, forever?"
"I don't know," Catherine replied in a low voice that carried just above the noise from the piano. "The initial offer, as I understand it, was to accompany Phoebe as a friend for a time. To have her show me that city as I have shown her this camp and then for me to return here. But when she told Hearst that Al and I were to divorce, he immediately suggested it as a permanent arrangement."
"And?" Trixie pressed her. "How do you feel about it?"
Catherine glanced over to where Al was standing conversing with Merrick. "There would seem little to keep me here." Reaching into her pocket, her fingers closed over the piece of paper he had given her. "My share of this place would aid in setting me up somewhere far away from Deadwood."
"As what? A whoremistress? Why would you seek to do that away from folks you know, folks that look out for you?"
"And why would I need to be a whoremistress?" she replied angrily. "Is that all anyone thinks me capable of achieving? Why couldn't I start up my own place? Or perhaps a store selling dresses and other fine things? Or perhaps the money might let me live as a lady for a while. I'm going to turn twenty-two years old in a matter of days and what have I achieved? Partnership in a whorehouse and marriage to a man old enough to be my Daddy. Now...now I could do anything I wanted, with whomever I wanted." As she spoke the words, she suddenly caught sight of Wyatt entering the saloon and slowly making his way to the bar to purchase a drink.
Trixie followed her gaze and immediately caught the other woman's meaning. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Right under Al's nose?"
"What are you implying?" Catherine demanded. "He came to my room the other evening after Al had chosen to quarrel with me on the doorstep to ensure that all was well. He seems affable enough to call a friend."
"Al ain't going to see it that way."
"Right now, I don't give a fuck what Al thinks," Catherine got to her feet. "He has made the situation perfectly plain and I, for one, don't see why I should become a recluse on the strength of it." Leaving her drink on the table, she moved over to the bar, in time to catch Wyatt's gaze as he turned around and fixed him with her best smile. "I would have thought you would have been more inclined to join your brother at the Bella Union."
"I'm a poor gambler," he replied with a smile.
"Aren't they all?"
"Me more than most and highly liable to lose more than my shirt." His eyes flickered across her face. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Whisky, thank you." She waited while Davie poured it and then sipped it slowly, one side of her body leaning against the bar. "So, is it your intention to remain in camp with your brother?"
"We won a timber lease in a lucky hand of cards. We figured we'd come out here and see if we could make it work."
"I thought you said you were a poor gambler?"
"I am, that one occasion aside."
"Are you any better at working timber?"
"I guess the proof of that will make itself apparent, one way or the other." He smiled at her again. "I was a lawman back in Kansas, but I didn't seem to make out too well in that department either."
"You should speak with Sheriff Bullock," Catherine said. "You could become his deputy."
"I got no interest in that quarter anymore," Wyatt shook his head. "What of you? You work here for your husband?"
"We're partners," she replied. "My daddy left me his share in this place on his death and it passed to me in turn. My husband, very generously, agreed it could remain mine upon marriage rather than be forfeited to him as per the normal course of events."
"That is generous and somewhat unexpected from a man such as your husband."
"I suppose so," she downed the remainder of the contents of her glass. "I should hopefully receive a good price for it once matters are settled."
Wyatt looked at her carefully. "Then your living at the boarding house...?"
"Is a somewhat temporary arrangement," she conceded. "At least, until I decide what to do and where to go. I'll never come back here though, I know that much for sure."
"You think you might leave the camp?"
Catherine glanced over his shoulder to where she could see Al watching them from a distance. "I very well might, Mr Earp, I very well might."
XXXX
"What a fortuitous turn of events," Hearst said, drying his face at the washbowl and turning back to where Phoebe was undressing for bed. "Who could have foreseen that Mr and Mrs Swearengen would be destined to part?"
"I think it's terrible," Phoebe lamented. "The poor girl clearly feels wretched about the whole thing."
"And yet she seemed open to the suggestion that she accompany us back to San Francisco next week."
"Why you're so keen on the idea, I confess I do not know. I like the idea of her continued company and friendship and I know that she would fit in so well at home with a little refining. Smooth her edges, so to speak."
"Which you are more than capable of assisting her with," he conceded. "But my interests in her lean more towards my obtaining the gold claim held by Mrs Ellsworth."
"Oh, that again...Lord it's becoming such a dull topic of conversation. I told you the outcome of my conversation with Mrs Ellsworth yesterday."
"I know," Hearst sat down on the edge of the bed. "She will consider selling under certain terms. I must confess, Phoebe that I have little interest in her terms and am significantly more disposed to my own."
"Then I fail to see the problem. Meet with the woman and discuss those terms. She will either agree to sell or she won't."
"Her husband may cause me difficulties given our previous business dealings which is why I had hoped that Mr Swearengen would prove willing to assist. Our meeting last night leads me to conclude that he will be unlikely to do so unless, and until, he is given just cause."
Phoebe yawned, "And did you give him that cause?"
"I made it clear to him to that certain others may find themselves in difficulties were he disinclined to accede to my request. He seems a man less troubled by his own well being and far more concerned by that of those others."
"Which others?"
"Mrs Swearengen, for one."
Phoebe sat bolt upright, "Catherine?!"
"Who else does a husband hold as dear as his wife? The news you gave me of their impending divorce did cause me momentary pause, but it may indeed work in my favour. If their separation is amicable she most likely will prefer to stay in camp."
"I saw the look on her face at his words. I cannot believe it is what she wants."
"If, then, it is fraught with bitterness, she may be more inclined to accept our offer of passage to San Francisco. I don't believe that Mr Swearengen will warm to the prospect of that and it may, therefore, change his view."
"But...but what are your intentions for her if it doesn't?"
Hearst got to his feet, moved over to her side of the bed and touched her chin gently. "I must keep that information private at present, my dear. As loyal as I know you are to me, I'm not entirely convinced of your discretion."
XXXX
"Is he that fucking hooplehead that rode into camp with his brother pretending to have rescued the stage from road agents?" Al asked.
"The very same it would appear," Merrick replied. "Wyatt Earp, I believe his name is. I'm given to understand that he was a marshal previously."
"Yes, we had cause to converse on the matter," Al replied, watching as Catherine smiled and laughed at whatever was being said with the almost practiced ease of a whore looking for a trick.
"Catherine appears to be entertaining him well. No doubt in an attempt to elicit him towards purchasing one of your girls."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Al replied, moving away from the newspaper man. Their relationship had never truly recovered after his printing of Catherine's affliction, but he no longer felt the urge to do him harm. Despite his announcement in the thoroughfare that afternoon he wasn't keen to see news of their situation appearing in the Pioneer. As he approached the pair whose antics had caught his attention, his wife's expression grew serious and she straightened up.
"Mr Earp," he greeted Wyatt, holding out his hand. "Nice to see you frequenting my joint in a social capacity as opposed to answering for your perceived transgressions."
"It's a fine place," Wyatt replied, returning the gesture. "With many appealing features."
A slow smile spread across Catherine's face that made Al half inclined to slap her. "I'm glad you think so. I do hope my wife has done her best to sell all the features to you. In particular, the mere five dollars we charge for pussy."
"Our conversation hasn't really tended that way," Wyatt said, looking back at her.
"Well, perhaps you might consider it whilst I converse with her in private for a moment." Al put his hand on Catherine's arm. "Mrs Swearengen..." Though appearing ill out, she bade Wyatt a brief goodbye and allowed herself to be propelled into the corner of the room furthest away from the bar out of earshot of other patrons.
"Is it your intention to persuade your new friend to fuck one of our whores or do you plan on completing the transaction yourself?" Al asked, his voice low.
"What I chose to do is none of your business," she replied, pulling her arm out of his grip.
"I seem to recall a previous occasion when I found you acting no better than a common whore in a room not so very far from here," he reminded her.
"Now would that have been when you interrupted me with the McSween boy," she folded her arms across her chest, "or are you referring to what transpired between us immediately thereafter? My own feelings on the subject would lean towards my concluding that I have whored myself to you for our entire marriage, short though it has been. You said yourself that it had never been a love match. That fucking me was merely an improvement on fucking others before me. I didn't want to think your words accurate before, but now I tend to subscribe towards them being just that."
He recalled the words, said in an attempt to prevent her from rescuing their relationship when he knew himself it could never be so rescued. He wanted now to tell her that he had been speaking untruths at that point, that hurting her to the point of pushing her away had been his motivation and that the real reason was that which he had originally given, namely that he felt unable to be intimate with her and therefore, wanted to release her for her own good.
"Cathy, words said and actions undertaken do not mean that I have ceased to care for you. Indeed, I told you of the reason for my feelings..."
"You're afraid to give me another child," she interrupted him. "Afraid I may become somehow ill as before. I recall your saying it. How clever of you to come up with a reason that would seem to touch me so. Perhaps we should be thankful for events taking their turn as they did. How terrible it would be to find myself bound irrevocably to a man such as you. Pondering on the matter I have concluded that I have no need to show your offer to my lawyer. Consider it accepted. I'd like my share, in cash, ready for me to uplift tomorrow. I've got plans for it." She looked back across the room where Wyatt was waiting at a vacant table, his eyes on them. "But if you'll excuse me, right now, there are others who do wish the pleasure of my company."
As she made to walk away, he grabbed her arm again, the purpose in doing so he knew not what. To make her see that she was making the wrong decision? To tell her that he loved her? To beg her not to do what he was afraid she was about to do? Quick as a flash, she lashed out and slapped him hard across the face. Immediately, he released her and she stumbled backwards.
"Here," she wrenched off her wedding ring and tossed it on the floor at his feet. "I don't wish to take anything I'm not entitled to."
Al watched as she strode purposefully back across the floor to her new companion and sat down beside him, immediately downing the whiskey he had purchased for her. In that moment, he knew that he had lost her.
"Has she told you?"
He straightened up from having retrieved the ring and turned to see Trixie standing behind him, a worried expression on her face, causing him to wonder if she had heard any of their exchange. "What the fuck are you doing here? Isn't the Jew giving you enough attention?"
"Has she told you?" she repeated, stepping forwards. "About this crazy scheme of hers? Is that why she slapped you, because you told her she couldn't do it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about her taking the money you're going to give her for her share of this place and going to San Francisco with Hearst!"
Al heard her words, but he wasn't quite sure that he comprehended their meaning. Slowly, he turned back around to face her. "What the fuck did you say?"
"You heard me," Trixie said. "She told me that she's planning on leaving the camp with them once his business here is concluded and she ain't never planning on coming back."
Leaving the camp? He had always known it was a possibility, though he had hoped and prayed fervently that it wasn't the decision she would make. Even in that moment, seconds earlier, when she had declared she wanted the gold he had hoped that it was her intention to be truly independent in the camp...but to leave with Hearst, after everything the man had said? Were the Ellsworth claim not in his possession by that time then there was no doubt that he could seek to use taking Catherine away as leverage against him in his scheme. The thought of her, hating him, climbing into a stagecoach with Hearst...bound for who knew what...
"Al..." Trixie stepped forwards. "She's leaving the fucking camp."
He turned back in time to lock gazes with his wife as she moved closer to Wyatt, not missing the triumphant look in her eyes.
"No she fucking ain't."
