‘I know what you’re thinking, Saint,’ Jane
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said, closing her hand over his forearm. ‘You’ve done so much. It’s just that the city is so very young and wild and there are so many men and – ‘
‘And many of them rapacious bastards!’ ‘True, but things are changing, you know. You’re not a rapacious bastard, and neither are many of your friends.’
‘Things won’t really change until San Francisco is no longer a city of single men and prostitutes.’
‘More families are coming all the time,’ Jane said, making Saint recall his own words to Del Saxton. She lowered her eyes to her lap for a moment. ‘If only Danny had survived
‘I know, Jane, I know. Your husband was doubtless a fine man. He sure picked a fine wife and made fine boys.’
‘But some gold wasn’t enough for him,’ she said in a voice tinged with bitterness. ‘If only you’d been in that camp when he came down with pneumonia, things might have been different.’
‘I’m not a miracle worker. Now, we’ve talked ourselves into a depression, and that’s no good at all, particularly after what you did to my poor body.’ She laughed, as he had known she would. He rose and stretched. Jane eyed him with wistful yearning. He was such a fine specimen of a man, she thought, her fingers tingling with the memory of his snmooth flesh, the soft tufts of hair on his chest and belly. She was so lucky to have found him when she had. She watched him stride over to the sink. She loved the way his chestnut hair curled about his ears, the way his hazel eyes narrowed when he was concentrating. And she knew he didn’t love her. They were good together, and, the good Lord knew, he’d helped her more than she could ever repay. Maybe someday, she thought.
‘Let me fix this blasted pump, then I’ve got to get home,’ he said over his shoulder.
Saint was awakened at three o’clock in the morning by violent knocks on the front door. It was Caesar, from Maggie’s brothel. One of the men, a stranger, had beaten one of her girls.
He cursed and ranted all the way to the Wild Star, Brent Hammond’s saloon. The other half of the large building was a brothel, called Maggie’s.
‘Dammit, Maggie,’ he shouted as soon as he stepped into her sitting room. ‘How could you let something like this happen?
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Which girl got hurt?’
‘Victoria,’ Maggie said. ‘The man is dead. Caeser slit his throat. Come along.’
Oh God, Saint thought as he stared down at Victoria, a pert, vivacious young woman who always had a ready smile for him, except now. One eye was already blackening, her upper lip was split and swollen, and she looked as pale as the sheet covering her.
‘Hold still, Victoria,’ he said gently as he sat on the bed beside her. ‘It’s just me, Saint.’ Victoria closed her eyes, biting her lower
lip to keep from crying out. His touch was gentle, but she hurt, badly. ‘Your jaw’s not broken_,’ Saint said. He pulled down the sheet that covered her. There were teeth marks on her left breast and an ugly bruise over her lower ribs. He probed as gently as he could, feeling her tense. ‘Try to relax, Victoria. I’ll be done in a minute. Your ribs are fine, but you’re going to hurt for a couple of weeks.’
He drew the sheet lower, and sucked in his breath. There was blood clotted between her thighs. ‘Shit,’ he said very softly. ‘Maggie, fetch me some hot water and some clean cloths. Now, Victoria, tell me what the bastard did to you.’
Victoria drew a shuddering breath and whispered, ‘He hurt me, Saint.’
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Dear God, I can see that well enough! ‘Why are you bleeding? How did he hurt you here?’
He listened to her jerking voice with growing anger. The man had dug his fist into her, tearing her. ‘He wasn’t normal, Saint, and when I started yelling, he got crazy and hit me more.’ She stopped, and burst into tears.
Saint gently stroked her hair from her forehead, muttering soothing sounds to calm her as he waited for Maggie to return with the hot water. ‘It will be all right, Victoria. just a few stitches, and you’ll be fine, I promise.’ As he spoke, he remembered Maggie asking him once, teasingly, why he didn’t want any of her girls. ‘I’d go to hell first,’he’d told her, and he meant it. He knew, in all fairness, that Maggie was greatly upset now, for nothing like this had ever happened before. But dammit, something like this should never happen!