Thank you for your continued interest in this and my other stories. The previous chapter was a tad short, so I decided to post this as well.
Standard disclaimer.
He was going to kill that woman, even if they executed him, Sam thought grimly, as he watched the locksmith come down the stairs.
No jury, who had met Miss Jones, would blame him…they might've even help him...
"Alright Sam, the lock is changed on the door for the lady. I got to charge extra, since it's Sunday evening. She's something, ain't she?"
"You got that right, Luke," Sam said chewing his lip. "I could think of more appropriate names to call her, though," he finished.
"A respectable woman like that, is really gonna be living here?" Sam sighed.
"She says she's gonna save the girls."
"From what?"
"A life of degradation, whatever the hell that means." Luke scratched his head with his lanky arm.
"The boys ain't gonna like this." Sam snorted.
"You think I do?"
"Well, she's moved the furniture around in the room, setting up chairs. She says she's gonna teach the girls."
"I reckon they could teach her a thing or two," Sam said and snickered. "But she'd never let them…too staid and respectable," he said, doing air quotes.
"I'll send you the bill and…"
Just then, they looked up to see Mercedes Jones marching down the stairs, carrying a big red ribbon.
The two stared in stunned silence, as she tied it to one banister, and strung it across the stairs and tied it to the other, blocking the stairs.
A sign hung on the big red ribbon. It read, 'UPSTAIRS CLOSED TO MEN.'
She gave each a nod and went back up the stairs, head held high.
"Well, I'll be damned, Sam said, and swore under his breath. Luke stared at the ribbon.
"Does that mean what I think it means?" Sam nodded.
"She's got principles. I don't know how to deal with that, and the damned stubborn woman won't get on a train, or a plane and leave. She's as ornery, as old Sherwin the goat."
Luke shrugged and grinned.
"I thought you were the stubbornest person I ever met, but I was wrong. I don't envy you, Sam. This should be very interesting to watch."
"For you, maybe."
"The boys is layin' bets."
"What?"
"The guys from the game and a few more."
"Tell them not to bet against me," Sam seethed. "I'm not gonna be bested by some old maid schoolteacher."
"She's got jet-black hair," the other said. And then, "Brunettes and dark-haired women, are so damn hard to reason with."
"You think I can't see that? But it don't mean nothin'. Sam Evans have never met a woman he couldn't charm, and this one ain't no different."
"Folks around town say she is."
"Folks around town got too much time on their hands," Sam grumbled.
Luke left and the rest of the Sunday evening was tense, to say the least.
The Lily wasn't open on Sundays, so Sam stayed in his office and played solitaire.
He could hear the girls upstairs reading from some type of reading material…all but Quinn. She actually came to his office, trying to flirt with him, but he ignored her.
"Hey there, honey," she said, lighting a cigarette. "You think she'll stick with it?"
"Be careful with that smoke," he grumbled. "You'll burn something down one day. Does Miss Jones look like the kind who bluffs?"
Quinn turned and looked towards the stairs.
"So, when we open up tomorrow night, does that red banner stay?"
"We'll see."
He'd considered ripping it down himself, and remembered, she owned the upstairs. He sighed and continued playing solitaire, whilst ignoring Quinn.
At precisely seven o'clock on Monday morning, Mercedes dressed in one of her no-nonsense plain dark dresses, with her hair back in a bun, and went downstairs, to find Carmen sipping coffee by the back door.
"Morning Carmen. What time do you usually serve breakfast?" "The girls and Mr. Sam ain't never up before noon...or almost. they work late at night, you know?"
"Well, there's going to be a few changes around here, now that I'm half owner. What did my aunt like to do with her mornings?" Carmen stood up looking sad.
"Miss Sue liked to get out and work in her front garden, early, before anyone else was up…her and old Sherwin the goat."
"I've met the goat."
Mercedes didn't think much of her aunt's gardening. All that grew out front around that big birdbath, were those common orange day lilies. Aunt Sue could've at least grown something fancier, like roses.
"I'm going to start classes for the girls, so from now on, Carmen, breakfast should be served promptly at seven." Carmen looked incredulous.
"In the morning?"
"Of course, in the morning…like the rest of the world."
"Mr. Sam ain't gonna like that. I don't believe he will get up that early, even if it was the end of the world."
She shook her grey head, emphasizing her point. But the thought pleased Mercedes.
"Mr. Sam is no longer in complete control here. From now on, I'll wake the girls up and you get breakfast ready."
The old woman sighed and threw the dregs of her coffee into the grass.
"Yes, ma'am, but Mr. Sam…"
"I know, I know, he won't like it." Mercedes smiled and wiped her hands briskly on her dress. "It's just too bad, but the upstairs is my property."
The old woman shrugged.
"Miss Mercedes, I'd advise you not to tangle with Mr. Sam."
"On the contrary," Mercedes said, as she paused in the doorway, "You'd better advise him not to tangle with me." Carmen nodded, a slight smile on her wrinkled face.
"You know, you aren't Miss Sue's blood, but you sure acts like her. She didn't take no sass off nobody."
Mercedes winced at the comparison.
She really wanted to distance herself as much as possible, from her wayward aunt.
"Thank you for your time Carmen. I will now awaken the household."
With that, she marched inside, found the dinner bell, went to the bottom of the stairs and rang it as hard and as rapidly she could.
Upstairs, doors flew open and the girls stuck their heads out of their rooms.
"What the hell is happening? Is the hotel on fire?" Some of the girls were asking and then, some started screaming.
Mercedes waited at the foot of the stairs, looking up as the girls ran out of their rooms, pulling on robes.
"Everyone calm down…there is no fire, or any emergency." Quinn blinked and ran her hand through her hair.
"Then what the hell is going on?" she asked. As politely as she could, Mercedes said,
"Profanity is the mark of a small vocabulary and ladies do not use it."
"Huh?" Now all seven were hanging over the railing looking at her.
"Never mind," Mercedes said. "We'll discuss that later. Carmen will be serving breakfast shortly."
"This early?" Rachel asked, acting as though she didn't know people ate before ten in the morning.
Just then, Sam stumbled out of his downstairs room, blinking and pulling on his shirt.
"Carmen, what's going on? Did someone say the hotel was on fire?" Carmen frowned and gestured towards Mercedes.
"Ask her. She says breakfast is gonna be served this time every morning from now on."
Sam paused in buttoning his shirt and stared at Mercedes, as if he'd never seen her before.
"What in the name of hell…?"
"This is the time respectable people get up, Mr. Evans."
"Dear God…"
"You do know about respectable people…"
"Not as much as you do, apparently," he complained. Quinn called down the stairs.
"Sam, honey, tell that woman that we don't have to…"
"I am half owner of the Texas Lily, now. So, I can make some of the rules. Now, everyone come down to breakfast. I have some announcements."
Sam looked put-out and angry.
"Couldn't your announcements have waited until about noon?"
"Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy wealthy and wise." Sam swore under his breath.
"I don't even have shoes on."
"Then go get them," Mercedes said. 'Too sexy for your own good,' she thought to her self, as he turned and went back to his room.
She fanned herself and headed to the table.
Grumbling and complaining, the girls and Sam stumbled to the dining room, where Carmen was now putting out plates and pouring coffee. Sam plopped down in his chair.
"Miss Jones, this is outrageous. Nobody gets up at this time of the day, except for roosters and…"
"Now, how would you know, Mr. Evans?" Mercedes asked, a little too sweetly. "I doubt if you've ever been up at this time, unless you had never gone to bed, after a long night of poker."
He grumbled again and reached for his coffee.
Mercedes took her place and motioned for the girls to do the same. They were a tired, bleary-looking lot, with hair undone and old make-up still smeared on their faces.
"Tomorrow, ladies, you will come to the table dressed and your faces washed." Eva looked at her and said,
"Ma'am, I think you missed your calling. You ought to be warden at the women's prison." The others laughed. But Mercedes took it in stride.
"I was acting headmistress…well, principal at the school where I teach…which is not much different," Mercedes said and sipped her coffee. And then,
"But I seriously doubt that."
"What did you say about being someone's mistress?" Sam said, seemingly coming out of a sleepy fog. The girls giggled and Mercedes frowned.
"Mr. Evans, do your thoughts ever get above your belt buckle?" He grinned and sipped his coffee.
"I was just trying to imagine you in a compromising situation." She felt her face burn.
"I would never allow myself to be in a compromising situation."
"Ain't that the truth," Sam muttered, and the girls laughed again.
Mercedes decided to ignore him.
She looked around the table, favoring the unkempt girls with a smile.
"Today, we begin classes, ladies."
"We ain't ladies," Quinn snapped, as she reached across the table for the sugar bowl, in front of Mercedes.
"All of you should aspire to become ladies. And Quinn, to be polite, you should have asked me to pass you the sugar."
"Why? I managed to reach it myself." Mercedes took a deep breath for patience, while the other girls giggled again.
"I have decided, I cannot in good conscience make a living off girls, who are at the mercy of a bunch of men, whose only aspiration, is to slake their lust on them."
"What?" A few of them asked in unison, staring blankly at her.
"No!" Sam said.
"Yes!" Mercedes replied and sipped her coffee.
"What?" asked the girls again.
"What Miss Mercy means," Sam started, frowning. "Is that, she thinks you shouldn't get paid for screwing, anymore." Mercedes winced.
"Please watch your language, Mr. Evans."
The entire table gave her blank, puzzled looks. This was going to be more difficult than she'd originally thought.
"I know you girls can read and write, but…"
"The guys don't care if we can read or write," Quinn stated. "Why should you?"
"When you can read and write, people won't be able to cheat you…" Sam slammed his cup down on the table. He looked angry.
"These girls are educated, Miss Jones. And nobody cheats my girls, or they'd deal with me."
All of the girls turned and looked at him, sighing with adoration. For some reason, that annoyed Mercedes.
"These aren't your girls. And ladies, education should always be your first order of business. You can get a good job with it. I know, you know that."
"I have a good job already," Quinn quipped.
"I mean a respectable job…and maybe, some of you would like to get married."
"Married?" Sam said the word as if it was dirty.
"Yes, married." All the girls except for Quinn, looked at her, their faces hopeful. Then their faces fell, when Rachel said,
"Men don't marry girls like us…we're whores."
Mercedes felt as though she had been slapped, at the harsh word. Yet, that was what her aunt had been.
How could Aunt Sue have fallen so low? Why couldn't she have remained respectable like her older sister?
"Well, if you look like ladies and behave like ladies, each of you could get a husband, or at least a better job."
"And just, how in the hell…pardon my French," Quinn started, pouring her coffee in a saucer and slurping it up. "How are we supposed to make a living, while you're teaching us how to be respectable?"
"Yeah, how?" Sam asked leaning back in his chair and grinning at Quinn's logic. Mercedes took a deep breath.
"Besides half the Lily, my aunt left me some money. I will pay your expenses for several months, while you change your lives."
Sam and the girls looked at her in astonishment. The tall blonde, Elaine asked,
"You'd do that for us?"
"I will. In fact, I feel it is my civic duty, to help you out of this life of degradation and…"
"Now wait just a damn minute," Sam said, glaring at her. "The Lily is one of the best in Texas, ain't it, girls?"
"Yeah, we like it here," Quinn stated.
"See?" Sam said, with smug satisfaction and sipped his coffee.
"That's because, these girls have never known a better life…and I blame my aunt for that. Like I told you before, Mr. Evans, the upstairs is closed to men. I own up there, so I get the final say." Sam sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.
"You do realize, Miss Jones, that if the girls don't mingle with the customers, lots of men will avoid the Lily and go down to the Bucket O' Blood, for drinks and gambling?"
"I can't be responsible for that," she said. She turned to the maid, who was standing with her mouth open. "Carmen, you may serve the oatmeal and after that, we swill begin classes."
"Well, I'll be damned!" Sam muttered. Mercedes smiled.
"You probably will be, Mr. Evans, but keep in mind, technically, I'm not interfering with your half of the business."
"The hell you aren't. No man will want to come in for a drink and a little gambling, if there are no girls to take upstairs."
"That's your problem." She smiled coldly. "Ladies, enjoy your breakfast. Classes begin at nine o'clock in Mr. Evans' office. My room is too small."
"Hell no! You ain't taking over my office…"
"Well, I suppose we could set up chairs around the poker tables. Of course, that might interfere with the gambling."
"You wouldn't?" Sam challenged.
"Try me."
'Lady, you are pure evil.' He sighed audibly.
"Alright, you win. You can use my office." Quinn slammed her cup down.
"Well, you can count me out. I'm not gonna read no books like some prissy schoolgirl. And nobody's gonna tell me how I can earn my living. Ain't that right, girls?"
The others kept silent, except for the strawberry blonde, Michelle. In a soft voice, she said,
"I've always wanted a better life." Mercedes regarded Quinn calmly.
"You may do whatever you wish, my dear. But there'll be no men upstairs tonight, or any other night. However, any girl who doesn't like how I intend to run my half of this business, is welcomed to move out."
"Sam, honey," Quinn said. "You gonna let her talk to me like that?" Sam shrugged in defeat.
"It's her half of the business."
That shut her up.
They ate breakfast in stunned silence.
Only Sam grumbled as he ate, about damn stubborn, short women.
Mercedes ignored him.
She was already making her plans in her head.
She had been teaching music, some grammar and etiquette for a few years and she could certainly teach these girls…and help them to better their lives, even if she spent all her inheritance doing so.
And neither Sam Evans nor that silly blonde Quinn, could stop her.
That's it for this chapter. Much love to you.