"It was our pleasure," Jewel replied as they entered the building, but Crystal was already running up the stairs.
Taking off her hat and veil, she tossed them on the bed and stood before the mirror. She didn't look any different. She still had the same brown eyes and neat blonde hair and there was surprisingly little pleasure from having the hundred-dollar gold piece Jasper Montgomery left on her dresser.
Ironically this morning when she'd crawled out of bed, she looked exactly like the whore she now was. Her hair was a wild mass of tangles, there were several small bruises on her neck where Mr. Montgomery had fastened his lips and sucked, driving her nearly insane. Her cleft was sticky, coated with substances she didn't even want to think about, and her bottom was still quite sore when she plopped onto the bed in shock after seeing her reflection.
Her thighs ached, as though she'd ridden a long distance and she guessed in essence she had. At one time, she was astride him hanging onto his shoulders for dear life as he bucked beneath her. If she recalled correctly he'd repeatedly slapped her ass, urging her on. Holy hell, it was incredible and surely not how normal men and women behaved. He was insatiable, and if truth be told, she'd howled with pleasure far more times than he. Just thinking about his sculptured body, glistening in the lamp light had her growing damp between her legs.
She wondered what he would have said and done if she'd agreed to marry him. Had he been serious? It was an intriguing thought, living with a man like that, crawling into his bed every night. Well, there was no sense in thinking about it. She'd made her decision and refused him. In her mind she had bigger fish to fry, such as finding the man who murdered her poor father.
Tonight there would be other men. It was entirely possible her one night with Jasper Montgomery might be her only night with him. He didn't seem like a man who would be happy with leftovers.
Tears rolled down her cheeks remembering the expression on her father's face the first time he'd found something golden and shiny in his pan. He about burst from the pure joy of it, promising to buy her the prettiest dresses and the fanciest house in Culpepper Cove once he struck it big.
Now he'd never see her married, or any of his grandchildren. Hell, if she managed to find and kill his murderer, at least he wouldn't see her hang, and that was a distinct possibility given the law in the west.
Citrine's soft knock on her door forced her to stow her maudlin thoughts away and dry her cheeks. Opening the door, she thanked her friend, but refused any further assistance, telling her she'd rather spend the afternoon alone reflecting on her life with her father. Thankfully, the other woman seemed to understand and left her to it.
The tea was hot, sweet and just what Crystal needed to restore her resolve. She undressed and hung up the black gown before digging through a drawer and pulling out her own clothes. In a very short time, she was dressed as she had been when she'd ridden into town. Stuffing a couple of cookies into her pocket, she checked her gun and tucked it into the back of her pants. Carefully she opened her door and scanned the hall. All was quiet. She could barely make out the sounds of talking in the dining room and figured the others were having refreshments too.
Moving quickly, she opened the door that led to the back stairway and cautiously crept down the stairs, noting the ones that squeaked. The kitchen was empty and she was out the back door with no one the wiser. Stopping in the yard, she reached down and grabbed a handful of dirt, coating her cheeks and hands. Avoiding the street, she made her way to the back of Bo Magnusson's livery, saying a prayer the big, blond Swede was busy elsewhere and that getting back into The Red Petticoat undetected would be as easy as getting out had been.
Head down, she saddled her horse and rode out. Mercifully she'd had the good sense to pay for board when she left Trooper there, so the owner had no reason to stop and question her even if he was around. It was difficult to ride out of town at a normal pace when all she wanted to do was get to her mine and see what was going on. Instead, she kept her head down and eyes on the road until she was well out of town before whipping her horse into a full gallop.
Clem followed the river until she was about half a mile from the mine her father named Eliza's Dream and dismounted. Leading the horse, she stopped a couple hundred yards away and ground tied him before proceeding to a slight rise and lying on her belly.