The attractive, curvaceous blonde divested herself of her shawl, adjusted the black lace which edged the décolletage exposed by her low-cut red satin dress, and swished gracefully into her seat at the empty gaming table. With long slim fingers she patted at the curls piled expertly upon her head before opening the drawer beneath the table to take out an old pack of cards with which to deal herself a game of solitaire. A new pack wouldn't be opened until her first paying customers arrived. At this time of day she wasn't expecting many players, but if Silky wanted the table open for the breakfast crowd then that's what he got.
Hearing his distinctive voice she looked up, ready with a warm smile if he happened to look her way, but it appeared he was otherwise engaged in conversation with Alonzo. Three boys stood beside him and she regarded the new arrivals with interest. The tallest, and presumably the oldest, had dark brown hair which constantly flopped into his eyes, the other two both had corn-coloured curls. One in particular reminded her...
She smiled sadly to herself and turned her attention back to the cards. It was difficult putting the past to rest, especially when the smallest of things could bring the memories flooding back.
South Carolina born and bred, Jenny had always enjoyed living by the sea. For generations her family had been fishermen so you could say salt water was in her blood, which is why everyone was a little taken aback the day she wed James Lovelace.
James was not a fisherman, in fact his profession had nothing to do with the sea at all. He was a wheelwright, making a decent living producing wagon wheels and carriages, and occasionally repairing the vehicles themselves. Jenny had a head for figures and kept the business ledgers in order; she even helped negotiate a contract to supply wheels for a local stagecoach company. It was a good life, made all the more sweet by the arrival of a child; a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy who they named David after James' father. Jenny doted on him.
In April 1861 when the War Between the States began, James immediately responded to the call to arms, knowing that as a wheelwright his skills would be in demand to keep the southern army on the move. Nobody expected the conflict to last more than a year, but even so, it was with a dreadful sense of foreboding that Jenny tearfully watched him go, waving goodbye with one hand, the other holding tightly onto her only son.
Now that the business was closed, Jenny made sure she and David did not starve by packing cotton for a company who used blockade runners to keep the economy of the port going. However, the war was lasting longer than anyone could have imagined and letters from James were rare. By the summer of 1862 rumours of substantial Confederate losses were rife, and when six whole months passed without any word from him Jenny was beside herself with worry. Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, yellow fever struck the port.
Carried by sailors from the Caribbean the disease soon reached epidemic levels. People fled the city in droves and this posed a terrible dilemma for Jenny. While she didn't want to risk either herself or David succumbing to the disease, the thought of her husband returning home from the horrors of war to an empty house was something she couldn't bear either, so she elected to stay.
The very instant seven-year-old David complained of a headache she knew this decision would haunt her every waking hour, as well as her dreams, for the rest of her life. By the next morning the boy was vomiting and had developed a high fever. Within a week he was dead.
James never returned. Whether he was killed in battle, or taken prisoner to die of starvation or disease in a prisoner of war camp, she would never know, and as time went on she found it harder to live in a place where, no matter where she turned or what she did, grief was never far away.
Experiencing an overwhelming urge to start afresh, she spurned offers of help from family and friends and travelled as far from the sea as a train ticket would take her; she headed west, to Denver. But life here in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains was no better, in fact in some ways it was worse, and her grief soon turned to despair. Unable to find work, and with her already paltry funds dwindling rapidly, the realisation that she may soon have no alternative but to seek employment in one of the many bordellos quickly transformed a once bright, caring woman who loved life, into a miserable shadow of her former self.
Meeting Silky O'Sullivan had been a stroke of luck. He was walking home late one night when an urgent need to relieve himself had driven him into an alley next to Mamie's Pleasure Parlour, but before he had even undone his fly he had become distracted by the sound of sobbing. Upon investigation he discovered it was coming from behind a wood store, the moonlight revealing a young woman shivering in the cold Colorado night. Now Silky was not one of the world's most sympathetic of people, far from it, but as soon as two large, tear-filled eyes looked up at him he knew he had no choice but to do something. And so, with a little gentle persuasion he took her by the hand and led her back to his newly acquired saloon.
Cold, hungry, and at breaking point Jenny had no doubt what this man would expect in return for his help, but felt she could no longer put off the inevitable. Much to her surprise, Silky behaved like a perfect gentleman. He did have a plan, however, which was to use her pretty face and fetching southern drawl to charm the customers and encourage them to buy drinks, nothing more. He already had two girls offering intimate services — he didn't need a third.
Jenny worked in the bar room for several weeks, but as soon as Silky found out about her skill at mental arithmetic he set about training her to deal blackjack for the house.
The small salary, along with tips from the saloon's patrons, meant Jenny earned enough to afford to rent a small cottage. Situated on the edge of town it was a long walk to work every day; manageable in good weather, but during the storms and heavy snowfalls of winter she would spend her nights at the saloon, sleeping in one of the unused bedrooms upstairs.
Silky's distinctive voice once again rose above the general buzz of the saloon and Jenny stopped studying the cards to watch as he spoke to Lyla, his most popular girl. Her eyes widened a little when, after a short conversation, Lyla placed her hand on the shoulder of one of the blond boys and walked him slowly up the stairs. So absorbed was she watching them that she didn't notice the others approach her table.
"Jenny, darlin'!"
Jenny's hand flew to her throat in a southern-belle-style gesture. "Why Mister O'Sullivan, you done startled me!"
Silky nudged Han forward. "Jenny, I'd like you to meet Hannibal Heyes."
"Charmed I'm sure," Jenny purred, making the handsome youth's cheeks colour in response.
"He already knows a little about handling cards," continued Silky, "so I'd like you to teach him how to manage a table."
Jenny nodded graciously then looked at the other boy. "And who might this be?"
The boy in question just stared at the floor and shuffled his feet. Now that he was nearer she could see that his hair wasn't quite as curly as David's had been; nonetheless the resemblance to her boy was uncanny.
"This is Billy. Keep an eye on him, will ya? Haven't figured out what I'm gonna do with him yet."
Billy watched Silky's retreating figure as he hurried back to the office. He knew this man had only been expecting two people and would be well within his rights to turn an unexpected third out on the street, even more so if he didn't have a use for him.
Recognising fear in Billy's eyes Jenny smiled and said, "Don't pay him no mind, honey. Everything will be fine. Pull up that chair and sit here next to me. Hannibal, you sit on the other side. You'll see the deal better from there. Tell me, why was that other boy going upstairs with Lyla?" Jenny wasn't worried for him, only curious. Despite the seedy reputation of The Row, Silky's establishment was a respectable one and there were certain practices which he would not tolerate.
"That was my cousin," Han informed her. "His ribs are busted so he's gotta rest. Mister O'Sullivan said he could use Lyla's room while she's working the floor. He didn't want him walkin' back to Tremont Place on his own. Said he'll send for a buggy later so we can all go home together."
"You're staying at Silky's house?"
"You sound surprised, ma'am?" Han wondered if he should be concerned.
"I am surprised. I can't recall him ever allowing anyone to stay at the house. Are you related?"
"No, ma'am."
"You must be pretty special then."
"I don't think so," said Han with a chuckle. "His friend Josiah Tweedie sent us here."
Jenny's big blue eyes widened. "JT? That old scoundrel! Is he still working the carnivals?"
"Yes, he is, ma'am."
"The lovely Bella must be what, sixteen now? I bet she's turning into quite a beauty."
The deepening blush on Han's cheeks answered that question, so in order to save the young man any embarrassment she gathered the cards up from the tabletop and handed them to him.
"So, Hannibal, show me what you know about blackjack."
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
As midday approached and the cook set out the lunch table, Alonzo found himself struggling to keep up with the increasing number of thirsty patrons enticed into the saloon by the promise of free food. So busy was he that he failed to notice two smart-suited gentlemen, both wearing homburgs and carrying silver-topped canes, stride through the jostling throng. Unlike everyone else, they didn't stop at the bar; instead they headed straight for the office.
Silky O'Sullivan's head snapped up from the ledger he was studying and regarded the pair with obvious distaste.
"Well, if it ain't Merton Flyte hisself," he chirped, scathingly. "And I see you've brought your trained monkey along to keep ya company." His voice dropped to a growl as he pretended to return his attention to the ledger. "I'm busy. What d' ya want?"
Merton Flyte sat his rigid, angular frame down on the nearest chair. His brother Titus, the shorter and wider of the pair, remained standing.
"Yer want I should teach him some manners, Mert?" snarled Titus, taking a step forward.
Merton coolly waved him back. "That's no way to address your principals, O'Sullivan."
The ledger closed with a thud and Silky leaned back in his chair. "Principals. Is that what you're calling yourselves these days? You're not my principals, we're business partners."
"Interesting you should say that, because in my book business partners do business." Merton's soulless grey eyes gazed steadily at Silky who wondered to himself if the man ever blinked. "Our headquarters is right where it's always been, taking money same way it's always done, but lately we don't appear to be taking any from you."
Refusing to be intimidated, Silky replied, "That'd be 'cause somebody else took it. Y' see, it turns out my two young runners did just that — they ran. Took the money too. Trouble is, there ain't many kids round here to replace 'em with."
"Row's crawlin' with the li'l bastards," Titus pointed out uncharitably.
"My! That brother of yours is real observant!" Despite the menacing attitude of his visitors, Silky didn't attempt to curb his sarcasm. "The kids you're referring to are all cut-purses, and somehow I don't think replacing a couple o' no-goods with a couple more would be too smart. What I have done, though, is got me some young prospects from outta town — arrived yesterday, in fact — all the way from Missouri."
"What's so special about Missouri?"
"It's farming country and hayseeds like them know their place. They'll do as they're told. All I need to do is train 'em up and—"
"Don't need to do nuthin' more'n show 'em the way to Larimer Street," stated Titus.
Silky rolled his eyes. "Now this is why Merton here does the thinking, and not you. There's more to training runners than just pointing them in the right direction. I have to make sure they know all the routes there and back. They also need to know who they can trust if they encounter a problem, and by 'problem' I mean the law."
"Get them trained up fast," said Merton.
"We don't like waitin'," declared his brother.
"Look fellas, I can't guarantee how long—"
Abruptly, Merton stood and walked to the door. Placing his hand on the doorknob he pronounced, "You got two weeks, O'Sullivan."
"Or you'll be hearin' from us again," added Titus, "an' next time we won't be so civil."
Silky didn't doubt that for a minute. Drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair he stared at the door long after the brothers had departed.
Merton and Titus Flyte had run the Denver Pike Tavern, a saloon and cat-house on Larimer Street, for many years. Along with the customary liquor and whores, they also offered gambling in all its forms, some legal and others most decidedly not, together with protection — for a price.
One of their simplest and most profitable schemes was a numbers game. This entailed gamblers attempting to pick three numbers between 1 and 999 in the hope of matching them with those drawn, allegedly at random, the following day. Bets were placed with an external bookmaker in various establishments across town and runners would carry the money along with a betting slip to the 'headquarters' or 'numbers bank'.
Silky had been running numbers from the Velvet Slipper for a year or two now. What he really wanted to do though was cut his ties with the Flyte brothers completely and run his own headquarters. The main problem though was how to keep the brothers oblivious to such an operation. Failure to do so could prove fatal.
The somewhat derogatory description of Han, Jed, and Billy that he'd given to Merton was simply something he'd come up with on the spur of the moment. Hayseeds they were not. In fact, Hannibal Heyes seemed pretty smart, Jed Curry too. He wasn't altogether sure about Billy, but was certain the boy would come in useful somehow, even if it meant deploying him as some sort of decoy to keep the Flytes' or their thuggish henchmen off his back.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
Young Hannibal had enjoyed his morning immensely. It had begun with him showing Jenny the shuffles he knew followed by watching her demonstrate the rudiments of running a blackjack table. Her hands were quick and dexterous and she appeared to calculate the payouts with ease. The cards fell mostly in her favour, which had Han wondering to what degree the odds favoured the house. There was also the question of whether she could be dealing seconds, or even using a crooked deck. He was in the process of plucking up the courage to ask if she was using any tricks when two cowpokes sauntered over from the bar and sat down, laying a mixture of chips and coins on the green baize alongside their mugs of beer.
The arrival of the players meant the lesson was over and it was time for both Han and Billy to vacate their seats. As they did so Jenny said quietly, "Why don't you go help yourselves to something from Irma's lunch table before it's all gone."
"I'll take a plate up to Jed. He's always hungry," said Han. Then he flashed what he deemed to be his most winning smile and said, "It's been a real pleasure, ma'am."
Playing along with his affected civility Jenny's long eyelashes fluttered demurely. "Why, Mister Heyes, the pleasure has been all mine."
While the cowpokes sorted their chips Jenny reflected on the last couple of hours. It had become clear to her that, although Billy resembled her boy physically, his character was very different. David had been a lively, happy-go-lucky little boy, but Billy was quiet and withdrawn; he didn't speak unless spoken to, nor did he smile much or look anyone in the eye.
Hannibal, on the other hand, couldn't be more different. He had an easy way about him. A way that could draw people in and make them warm to his company; essential attributes for any blackjack dealer.