[Author note - this story will be darker than my usual, and includes themes of violence and death in addition to non-consent/reluctance. This first chapter is heavy on exposition and setting (without much in the way of graphic scenes). If you would like to skip it, there will be a recap at the beginning of the next chapter. As always - all characters are of legal age and I don't condone any of this fictional behaviour in real life. Seems self-evident, but bears repeating.]
***
"Come listen a while and I'll sing you a song..."
The tinny music rose and the musician turned the volume dial up on the saloon's makeshift piano. Conversations dimmed and voices joined in, the song spreading from table to table.
"Concerning the times -- it will not be long -- when everybody is striving to buy..."
The song was a popular one, and every customer joined in - save for a few surly regulars, who turned their back with a grunt, their fingers fitting into the well-worn dents and grooves of their pewter cups.
"And cheating each other, I cannot tell why..."
Virginia set her tray down and leaned against the wall with a sigh. She knew full well what was coming next, as the song had an unfortunately catchy rhythm. She could already see a few hands slapping thighs, and hear the thud of feet stamping in time.
"And it's hard, hard times!"
The volume rose as drink and shared misery spurred people on. Here and there a tankard was slammed down to punctuate the lyrics, and a brownish liquid spilled over and splashed to the floor.
She glanced over to Jacob, standing at the bar wiping a mug clean. He threw her a side-eye and shrugged with a wry smile, knowing full well what was going through her mind. She hated this particular song for the extra cleaning up it generated.
"From father to mother, from sister to brother, from cousin to cousin, they're cheating each other..."
The voices almost drowned out the music now. One man stood and kicked his chair back, then pushed the reinforced crate that served as a table aside with his hip to create space around him.
"Since cheating has grown to be so much the fashion, I believe to my soul it will run the whole nation, --"
The man hoisted his friend up and pulled him in close to swing around in time with the music, spilling half of his drink as they turned.
"And it's hard, hard times!"
The song carried on for a few verses, and more and more pairs stood to dance, if the uncoordinated writhing and stamping of the drunken mass could be called dancing. Here and there a drink accidentally spilled down a collar threw a spark. Jacob expertly circulated the crowd, extinguishing them with a refill before they could be fanned into full blown fights.
The tempo slowed as the saloon launched into the last verse, and Virginia pushed herself off the wall, mentally mapping her route through the room to mop up the worst of the spills.
"And there's the young man, the worst of the whole; oh, he will tell you with all of his soul, he'll tell you he loves you and for you will die, and when he's away he will swear it's a lie..."
The music stopped, and the crowd bellowed the last few words, holding the last note as long as their drunken lungs could - "and it's hard, hard times!"
Hearty laughter spread through the room, and men slapped each other on the back joyfully. Virginia couldn't repress a smile as she circulated through the room, dodging unpredictable traffic patterns as customers stumbled back to their seats. The song was powerful but fickle: it had the ability to bring a room together, bonding over strife - just as much as it could feed bitterness and bring old grudges into mind. Tonight's song had gone well; she'd much rather be wiping up moonshine than blood.
Virginia wasn't the only one benefitting from the good spirits in the room. A few women leaned over the top floor banister, their breasts threatening to pop out of their plunging necklines.
The Morning Glory wasn't just a saloon - on its own, it wasn't that profitable. The amount of free drinks Jacob had to give out to appease fights on some evenings probably wiped out any profits that might have been made that day. The top floor of the establishment provided weary travellers with a place to rest and recover from their rough travels, and human company to boot...
It was a brothel, no other word for it.
A hand landed on Virginia's ass as she ran an already sodden rag over a table. She whirled around, fist clenched around the soaked cloth.
"Want me to show you a
hard
time, darlin'?"
Virginia managed a closed-lipped smile through gritted teeth. Suddenly the man spun as Jacob's hand pulled his shoulder back. He leaned in and conspiratorially whispered in his ear.
"You'll find what you're looking for on the first floor," he said, looking up to the girls. There were already fewer in sight as several had retreated with clients into the bedrooms at the back of the building.
"Aw," the man pouted, before taking a final swig out of his cup. "Fine," he shrugged, then tossed his empty at Virginia dismissively.
The man's heavy footfall thudded on the stairwell, and he approached Kitty, who had cultivated her look to mirror Virginia's. It worked well, letting her take advantage of any lust Virginia might drum up on the floor but on which she steadfastly refused to follow through.
He grabbed her ass and once again murmured his pickup line. Kitty giggled at him coquettishly, then grabbed his shirtfront and guided him to a door at the back.
Virginia sighed, working out the tension from her jaw, and looked over to Jacob. "Thank you."
He smiled and shook his head. "No need, it's what I'm here for."
***
"See you tomorrow, V", Kitty waved as she walked down the stairs, buttoning up her oversized coat and pulling her hat down over her ears.