"That smell, fresh tanned leather and sweat. You girls have perfumed my establishment with the scent of a whorehouse. Thank God!"
In the Desert it rarely rains, but when it does, you can see it coming for hours. Keeng glared at the darkening sky off in the distance. He slowly withdrew his watch from its nook in his waistcoat, glanced at it and noted that it was far too early to be this dark. The sweat on his forehead was lingering, a strange feeling in the dusty climate that told him it was certain to rain.
"About three hours I would estimate" Keeng said without taking his gaze off the horizon.
"This will be bad for business hun" Regina said peering over Keeng's shoulder.
Their gaze shifted to the main street. Men were running about desperately. They quickly ran around carrying armloads of equipment and supplies. Off in the distance several men were filling bags with New Mexico sand and loading them on a wagon. The springs on the wagon groaned with the increasing weight of the filled bags.
"They are preparing for a big one deary" Keeng said watching the spectacle.
"They will be too busy for pussy then, guess the girls and I will wash our hair tonight." Regina said glumly.
Keeng knew she was right. The men in town would be busy trying to stave off the floods that are certain to come. They will be bracing beams in mines and sandbagging entrances. There will be no drinking tonight, no celebrating. The men will find company in each other's presence and while it will be a long wet night for them, the dryness of the desert will be preserved in the Promenade.
Keeng turned around slowly and looked at the empty bar. He will keep the doors open until the rains come but he was not expecting any clientele. He slowly walked to the bar, withdrew a bottle of fine Kentucky rye, and a glass. He held the glass up toward a nearby window, and marveled at how clean the glass was. He was very proud of how clean he managed to keep the glasses he had been in far too many places with filthy glasses and he would have none of that in his place.
"Even the cheapest whiskey tastes better with a clean glass." he mumbled to himself.
"Since when is that cheap whiskey?" McRae asked with a chuckle in his voice nodding at the bottle Keeng held by its neck.
"I thought you were to be in LaGrange." Keeng said reaching for a second glass.
"I am." Replied the Hardcase. "I just stopped in for a quick drink and to look in after y'all. I think this will be a bad one. I'm glad I am riding away from it to be honest." McRae finished somberly.
The two sipped the fiery-sweet liquid, gazing out the window watching the darkness slowly advance on the small town. McRae finished his drink, dutifully placed the glass up-side-down on the bar top and touched the tip of his hat.
"Thank you for the drink. I'm off to chase my bounty. I'll see y'all in a few days if I aint dead." The Hardcase said as he slowly walked out into the ever growing darkness.
The sky had now evicted all of its remaining light. The first drops began to fall. Large, heavy drops weighted with the water that had grown over the winter months. The first wave of droplets beckoned the rest and with a fury of ancient times, the sky opened and let spill the deluge.
Regina sat at the vanity, slowly running the brush through her hair. She hated how the humidity made her curls interlock. Surrounding each tangle her hair formed a misty fog inciting her rage and invoking her accomplished use of invectives.
She was instantly blinded in mid-brushstroke. The long strand of electricity seared across the sky like a forked snake striking at its prey. The light so incredibly bright against the contrasting blackened sky that Regina doubted an eye in the small New Mexico town could focus at that instant. She sat, waiting, with her ear cocked toward the sky.
"two thousand, three thousand..." She counted under her breath.
For an instant she felt the distance between her butt and the chair, she felt every hair on her body stand up as the thunder clap shook the picture frames loosely hung on the wall. She remembered the sound of the cannons in Atlanta during Sherman's siege. She did not want to think about that any longer and dutifully continued cursing her brush through her hair.
She was more prepared for the next clap of thunder than she was for the gentle knock on her door. "Not a customer" she thought. They rarely knocked softly and she didn't hear a drunken body slump against the door before the knock. This knock was the voice of a softer hand.
"Who dare?" Regina Answered the knock with a sharp tone.
"Ccccarol, Regina" Said a soft voice at the other end of the door.
"I aint know any Carol Regina's" Said Regina biting her lip to stifle the smile.
"No nnno its just Cccarol...Ccccarol Ppparch."
Regina Opened the door softly. The young brunette stood in the hallway wearing a night gown and nervously wadding a handkerchief in her hands.
"Why Carol, I dint reconnize yo' voice as the Carol I know. You ben workin' on that stutter of yo's child?" Regina Said noticing the girl's discomfort.
Carol smiled warmly and relaxed.
Carol Parch was the Daughter of a headmaster of a private boy's school. Her mother had died at childbirth delivering her ninth daughter. Her father had hired the cheapest governess he could find in the five burroughs to raise the girls while he tended to his duties. Carol had always believed her father stayed at the school so much because he had been cursed with daughters and no sons. The girl had always stuttered which drove any remaining love for her right out of her strict and unforgiving father. It was bad enough she had been born a Girl, added on the fact that she "spoke as a dullard" in her father's words and when she was caught by her governess in the throes of passion with another girl her father spoke no further to her. He marched her down to the train station, placed her on the nearest train to the western territories and turned his back on her.
The ticket her father had purchased only took her as far as El Paso Texas. She found herself penniless and put off a train in an unfamiliar and wild town. She sold her shoes for passage on a wagon out of town but the wagon fell prey to Comancheros. This particular breed of evil was noted for selling young girls and whiskey to Comanche Indians. Fortunately The Commancheros she was captured by had been dispatched by a long haired Texas Ranger by the name of Hamilton McRae. Feeling grateful for her recue, she treated McRae to a blow job for which he habitually paid her five dollars after its conclusion. She had no idea she could get paid for such a service and she found herself in a town that had plenty of business. At Age eighteen, Carol Parch was a prostitute.
"Come in child." Regina said softly. "What got you so upset sweetie?" She continued.
"Iiii dddon't like the ssstorm" Carol spat softly.
Regina took the woman in her arms, holding her close to her bosom. Carol, like Regina, was drenched with the sweat that refused to evaporate in the humid air.
"This detestable heat" Said Regina breaking the embrace and scanning the room for her hand fan.
"Oh to hell with it." She said as she removed her gown.
Regina saw Carol scan her naked body with her eyes narrowed. She playfully put her arms behind her head, gently lifting her hair and instantly feeling the cool on her neck.
"fffuck it." Carol sighed and she dropped her gown to the floor. She felt the temperature change and relaxed instantly. Regina drank in the view of the young Carol. She tossed the brush on her vanity and walked to the bed. She lounged on her arm, taking in the curves on the stuttering beauty. Regina threw herself back on her pillow, sighed and stared at the ceiling.
"I'm so bored." Regina said with a sigh, as she looked at Carol.
