Page 18 of The Saloon Girl's Only Shot

My Dearest Temperance,

Since you left Fort Kearny, I have suffered two more fainting spells.

“No,” she moaned, instantly wishing herself there instead of in this forsaken place.

The physician advises me against travelling to Denver where medicine is even more scarce. He has arranged a place for me on a wagon heading to Leavenworth. Once there, I will prevail on an old friend for funds to return to Chicago. Once home, I will resume my teaching position.

He was going home without her?!

Temperance’s heart shrank in abandonment. And homesickness. She missed her half-siblings. She already missed him.

Adelaide would be thrilled to see him come in the door without his eldest daughter, though.

Temperance couldn’t blame him for going back. The money from this contract would have been a nice boon, but all his children deserved his affection and support. They were much younger than she was and hadn’t messed up quite so colossally.

Even so, this letter felt like a rejection. It felt as though he was agreeing with Adelaide and no longer wanted Temperance in his home or in his life. What on earth was she to do?

I trust Mr. Gardner is looking after you well, her father’s letter continued.

“Ha!” she cried, blinking to read through her damp lashes.

Once I have arrived home, I will write to him myself and explain my indisposition. Please assure him that I will square up with him for any funds he has forwarded to you on my behalf. Perhaps he can buy you a ticket to fund your own trip home?

He would not.

Alternately, I am told there is an abundance of men in Pike’s Peak, including a few who have made their fortunes in the diggings, or with shopkeeping and other industry. If you wish to marry and stay there, I will understand. In that case, forward me the amount owing to Mr. Gardner and I will see to his repayment as soon as possible.

Good news, Papa. There is no debt to repay.

Write to me at home, so I will know you are well.

Your loving father,

Reginald Goodrich

“Oh, Papa, noooo,” she wailed softly.

Marry and live here forever? What sort of life was that?

As if to reinforce her apprehension, a gunshot resounded in some nearby street along with shouts of alarm. This was a profoundly lawless place. Last night, one of the miners had told her of a blatant robbery by starving men who had stolen two wagons of corn that enterprising farmers had worked all summer to grow. The vagrants had fed it to their oxen so the animals would survive to take them home to Alabama while the poor farmers were left with no food and nothing to sell.

She was exactly like those robbed and destitute farmers. She had no money, no job, no home, and her few things were being held hostage by Mrs. Pincher. She didn’t even have her good name. She didn’t have hope.

Her vision of returning to Chicago with her father, having proved she was integral to his reporting and the income he gleaned from it, was gone. The vastness of her empty, shapeless future left her feeling as cold as those glaciers hanging in their lofty valleys.

As if her day could not have grown worse, into her despair, a familiar male voice asked, “Where the hell have you been?”

Chapter 6

Owen had spent a good hour hoofing all over these streets last night looking for her, worried she was being harassed on her way home. He had left the saloon almost immediately after she had so he didn’t understand how he had lost her.

After such a restless night, he had decided to treat himself to corncakes for breakfast from the cook tent in Auraria. As he had reached the corner of Sixteenth, he had glanced absently this direction and here she was, sitting outside the watchmakers as though waiting for her mantle clock to be repaired.

His heart pounded against his ribs, his feet veering just as quickly to bring him up to her so he could demand, “Where are you staying?”

She looked up from her letter, face as crossly lined and crumpled as her gown. She did not wish him any sort of morning, let alone a good one.

“I am homesteading this bench,” she said with a wave. “See my livestock?” She indicated the yellow dog who waggled up to greet Owen. “In fact, I have staked my claim from the hitching post to the spittoon there.” She pointed. “I intend to start my digging where you’re standing, so kindly take two steps back.”

---