Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
This was important. It couldn't wait. Zac would just have to understand her position. After all, it wasn't as though he were her real husband, who would have certain rights. She walked out of the hotel convinced Zac would see things her way.
Piano music flowed loudly from the Golden Cage saloon, as did laughter and singing. A joyous bunch occupied the bar inside; there was no doubt about that. Prudence stood to the side of the wooden swinging doors. She now understood clearly the necessity for saloon doors to swing. Most occupants of the saloon were too drunk upon leaving to locate a handle. And when a fight broke out, swinging doors made it easier for the barkeep to throw the rowdy ones out.
She waited, considering the consequences of entering the saloon. She recalled Sadie and the misunderstanding there, and Prudence firmly assured herself she wouldn't allow such a dreadful thing to happen again. She would just march right in there with her head up and with a most stern, maidenly expression, and quickly search the room for Granny Hayes. She would talk with the woman and then be directly on her way. Zac would never know.
Prudence tied the white silk ribbon of her bonnet more tightly beneath her chin, giving her face a squashed expression. She threw her shoulders back, which thrust her chest out, making her appear one determined lady.
She gave the swinging door a hard shove and walked in, forgetting the door would swing back. It did, hitting her solidly in the back and sending her sprawling face first on the floor.
Prudence landed on her hands and knees, a most undignified position. Too shocked to move and too embarrassed to raise her face, she remained there for a moment, until realizing the music had come to a dead stop. She assumed everyone had focused their attention on her, and why not? She had made a perfect fool out of herself.
She managed to lift herself onto her knees with some dignity before her bonnet fell down in her face, covering her eyes. She had tied it too tightly and the silk ribbons still hugged the sides of her face while the bonnet tilted forward. She couldn't see and as she tried to fix it, she lost her balance and fell to the side, bumping into a chair and landing on her backside. This time she felt her whole body flame in embarrassment. Then the laughter started, low at first, until it grew into a roar.
"Here, dearie, let me help you," a woman's voice said. Her hands untied the silk ribbon and pulled Prudence's bonnet off.
Prudence looked up into the oldest and most wrinkled face she had ever seen.
"Granny Hayes, child. You must be the city gal I heard's been looking for me," she said, holding her prune-skinned hand out to Prudence.
Prudence gratefully accepted it, surprised by the strength of the old woman's firm handshake. Granny Hayes helped her up without a grunt, groan, or protest. "Sit yourself," she ordered, directing Prudence to a table and chairs in the corner near the doors.
Prudence obeyed, still unnerved by the laughter that continued to rumble and the chuckles and comments that circulated loud enough for her to hear. She didn't at all care for the insulting phrases.
"Wonder if she's that clumsy in bed?"
"That's one position I like women in."
"She's got a nice-shaped rump."
Prudence tucked herself in the chair closest to the corner and out of everyone's view.
Granny signaled the barkeep. "Another whiskey, Harry, and — " She looked at Prudence.
"Cider, please."
Granny shook her head. "Waste of money," she mumbled, smiling, and then yelling, "Cider, the good stuff."
Prudence found her attention glued on Granny. She had thought she had met her share of unusual characters, but Granny outshined them all. Her age was difficult to ascertain, due to the thousands of wrinkles, but it had to be somewhere between eighty and ninety. Her pure white hair was tucked up and under a floppy gray felt hat. She was reed-thin and wore a bright multicolored skirt similar to the ones Prudence had seen on a few Indians. A blue man-styled shirt was covered by a blue denim jacket, and a long necklace made from string and rattlesnake tails hung around her neck.
"So what is it you want from me?" Granny asked directly, leaning back in her chair.
"Information," Prudence answered immediately, wanting to avoid any misunderstanding.
"Well, the first bit of info I can give you is to get rid of that stupid-looking, useless hat."
Prudence glanced at the hat in question, sitting on the table. It was dirty and dusty and looked battered beyond wear.
"You need something to keep the sun off that pale skin of yours. Don't you ever go out and breathe the good clean air God gave us?"
Prudence attempted to answer, but Granny didn't wait for a reply. "You're not from around here, though you look the type that could survive out here. You're strong and big-boned. Won't have any trouble giving birth and can do your fare share of the chores. That's a good sign in a woman. Too many women aren't strong. They need a man to rely on. Men are good for nothin'." She smiled and amended her last statement. "Well, they're good for one thing."