New in Town, Part 3
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The main saloon at the Gem
Bill could tell by her stiffness that it would be best if he refrained from commenting on her attire, at least until they were alone.
"I apologize for entering your establishment in such inappropriate clothing. Our mishap…" Laura waved her hand in a vague gesture that could have meant anything. She had rehearsed her remark on her awkward walk over to the two men, trying to get it said with a straight face when there were bare-breasted women scattered around the room and a screened corner marked "Titty licks-5 cents".
"Of course." A nod and a comment that also could have meant anything from the proprietor, now on his feet.
"Mr. Adama, shall we sequester ourselves in my office to continue this while I arrange escort for your wife to the schoolhouse?"
Bill looked at Laura, gauging her comfort level at this suggestion. She gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"Please."
Al eyeballed the available men at the bar, all keeping a watchful eye on the stranger and avoiding staring openly at the redhead.
"Adams! Walk Mrs. Adama to the school. Bring—" He gave her a smile that bordered on patronizing. "I mean, escort her back here after she's completed her meeting with Mrs. Bullock."
"Yes sir, boss." Silas Adams nodded at Bill before guiding Laura out of the saloon, not quite touching her arm. Bill noted a sidearm on the man's hip and his gait suggested another weapon in his boot.
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Out and about in the thoroughfare
Laura caught her breath at the strong odor of horse urine and dung in the street. She supposed she had been too nervous to notice when they arrived.
A flurry of bright colors and pink and white flesh drew her eye to the balcony of a building across the thoroughfare. An assortment of young girls hung over the railing, calling out invitations to the men passing by. Their tones were joyful and lewd but even from the street she noted a skittishness in the eyes of some of the girls. Their skittishness turned to fear as a smooth-groomed older man came out on the balcony behind them, smoking a cigar. Laura watched him speak quietly to a young woman beside him, prompting an uneasy laugh and artificial smile. Something about the man reminded her of the interrogator on Pegasus. He pulled the young woman into the building by her arm, biting off words to the other girls assembled.
"Mr. Adams…who was that?"
"Nobody you'd want to meet, ma'am. Name's Cy Tolliver, runs the Bella Union."
"Like Mr. Swearengen runs the Gem."
He cleared his throat, fighting a wry chuckle.
"I wouldn't say one was like the other, ma'am, but far as both runnin' saloons, that's correct."
She stepped around a fresh steaming pile of horse dung and some chicken guts, steadying herself on his arm.
"The girls look better dressed at the Bella Union…but much more…unhappy than the girls at the Gem."
"Yes, ma'am."
They walked in silence to the schoolhouse and Deadwood's only teacher.
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Al Swearengen's office, upstairs at the Gem
"What happened to your gun?"
Al shot a deliberate look to Bill's right hip.
At Bill's silence, he continued. "You look like a man used to more hardware on your belt."
"Long story. Might need another one."
Al nodded thoughtfully. "What's your preference?"
Bill kept his hands loose and easy on his thighs. "I'm not picky. Something like your Mr. Adams carries would work."
"You lose your gun when your wagon went over?"
"Something like that."
The bottom drawer opened with a snick. Al looked into its shadows, then back at the dark stranger, eyes glittering.
"Mr. Adama…you plannin' on tellin' me the truth about how you come to be stranded here?"
A beat passed…then another. The air was electric between them as they measured and sniffed like alpha wolves. Al's fingers were brushing lightly against the hilt of his favorite knife when Adama spoke again.
"No."
"Mighty saucy for an unarmed man." His hand stilled as he rolled the novel response around in his head.
The man's military bearing seemed to expand out into the room. Rare for such self-confidence to be displayed here and not be the affectations of a fool, Al thought.
Bill's hands stayed easy still.
"You have any questions, go ahead. My answers'll be the truth."
"Meanin' there may be questions you'll decline to answer."
"Yeah."
The room still smelled like Trixie's last cigarette. Not even a deliberately deep breath brought a whiff of the cat-piss smell of liars. Al relaxed his fingers, let them hover over the bottle and glasses instead.
"You want a blow job while we talk?"
This never failed to bring a reaction from whatever cocksucker sat in the opposite chair. The one that came, though, was not one he had expected.
Bill chuckled.
Not the nervous chuckle of the last guy, the Pinkerton man who'd gurgled out his life's blood over Al's blade soon thereafter, but an honest laugh.
"You don't really look like you've still got the knees for it."
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Dan did a double-take as he sat on the bench outside Al's office. Might be a death-rattle, but damn if it didn't sound more like…Al laughing.
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"So, no bandits, no road agents involved."
Bill tried to suss out the meaning behind the question but it was past him.
"No. No one else involved. Why?"
Al poured second shots for both.
"Anyone operates in the Hills without my leave, that's a problem. A mistake rarely repeated but egregious enough to require a response."
He downed his drink. "Where's your gear?"
He raised an eyebrow at Adama's even-toned "Not your concern."
Cocksucker sounds like me,he thought.
He poured refills and called for Dan as they got down to the mechanics and particulars of what would be required to turn a motley group of brigands, townsfolk, Chinks, and one dwarf (who was hell with a knife) into a semblance of a civil defense militia.
A/N: Hope readers are enjoying this so far. Please review, whether it's thumbs up or thumbs down :-)