The Heart of Bisbee, Ch. 3
A serialized lesbian western. Ch. 3: Cassidy
This is chapter 3 of a serialized novel. You can begin reading it from here, or you can read the previous chapters for more context.
Chapter index:
Chapter 3: Cassidy
Tuesday
The comfort I had eked out from my days at the library had been forcefully wrung out of me. Iâd felt a sick sort of knot in my throat since Russell had come back asking for help, and the knot had twisted and twisted âtil it about choked me when that stranger had come into the Copper Queen askinâ about him.
Runaway husband, my foot. I knew exactly why sheâd come in asking questions. Couldnât fool me with a nice smile and an âaw shucksâ attitude. That woman was a snake in the grass if Iâd ever seen one. I just managed to sputter out some inane nonsense to Mrs. Reeves about her latest read before the stranger slipped out the front door. I hoped Iâd never see her again, but I wasnât taken to foolishness.
Was it a threat? Surely she couldnât be stupid enough to come ask me, Russellâs own sister, where he was, actinâ sweet as pie. If she didnât know, I knew sheâd be back soon as she realized Iâd lied to her.
Damnation.
I stomped home that day, a cooling breeze finally coming through the mountains. It did nothing to lighten my mood. Russell was not at my house any longer, thank the lord, but I needed to keep him safe regardless. He was all I had left in the world.
When I got home I unbuttoned the buttons at my neck and hoped it would release some of the awful tension I felt there. It did not. I kicked off my shoes and fell backward into the chair in front of the hearth. I laid my arm over my eyes and had just started to deflate when my door flew open.
âI cannot believe you are just sittinâ about, Cassidy James.â
I cracked one eye open. Alma. Bless her heart, she irritated the devil out of me.
âI just got home from work, Alma. Leave me be for a damn minute.â I whistled.
âCassidy James, I know you are not talking to me like some man sittinâ back in that chair with your legs spread out. Have some decency!â
I rolled my eyes but we were both smiling as she took food out of a basket.
âAw Alma, you donât need to bring me anything, Iâm doing okay, really.â
She fixed her shrewd eyes on me. âI know you are, Cassidy girl, but it never hurts to have some fresh bread in the house.â
I wondered if she knew that Russell had come by a few days ago. I didnât think so, but people did tend to be awfully observant around here in the most inconvenient ways.
She continued on, ignoring my silence as usual- âAnyway, I know you like to strut about like a man when youâre not preening in that library of yours, but thereâs gonna be a dance on Thursday night and you better be there. Iâm making an apple pie and you know itâs gonna be better than that cow, Marcelineâs. Why, did you know her daughter was caught sneaking off with the bakerâs boy last week? And there she is acting all high-and-mighty-â
I tuned her out and shoved a hunk of bread in my mouth. When she was done elaborating on all of Marceline Whittakerâs flaws, I spoke.
âI donât know about all that, Alma.â
âWell all Iâm saying is that it would be good for you to be seen at town functions, if you know what I mean.â She eyed me very un-subtle-like. I did know what she meant. My brother, the criminal, was not helpful to my reputation around town. It would be far better for people to see me as a poor, sweet woman with bad luck in relatives. I needed to play nice to be tolerated here, to keep my position at the library, to keep people from asking too many questions about how I kept my house when everything else was crushed to smithereens.
I sighed, âIâll be there.â
Thursday evening
I stood on the outskirts of the room, nursing a lemonade. I spied Alma speaking with Marceline Whittaker over the desserts table and I prayed for Marcelineâs health and safety. For my part, Iâd spoken to a handful of people about the library, smiling so much my face felt stiff with it. I regretted letting Alma talk me into coming here. She was right, of course, but I regretted it all the same.
In a way I enjoyed putting on a public face at the library. That version of me felt like a character in a play. I could play her for a while; proper, always smiling, helpful to the townspeople. But my time after work was my own. It was exhausting to have to be that person for more than a few hours.
Iâd decided to make an exit from the party and had just unstuck myself from the wall when I saw my boss, Ernest, bumbling good-naturedly my way.
âCassidy!â he boomed, âIt is SO good to see you outside of our beautiful library.â
I grinned. Despite everything, Ernest was unfailingly kind. He was just a bit of a bull in a china shop. Everything he said and did was loud and big. I donât think he had any other way of beinâ.
âI was just telling this handsome young traveler all about the work weâve been doing there-â
At this, he motioned to the person standing behind him, and the stranger came into my field of view. My stomach dropped, and so did my smile. Ernest, oblivious, continued,
âThis is MrâŠ. what did you say your name was again? I believe Iâve forgotten it already!â he guffawed a bit, growing a bit red in the face.
âBrooks, Jay Brooks.â said the stranger, holding a hand out to me. I took it mechanically and shook, a bit shocked when her hand touched mine. It was warm and rough and I could feel her fingertips resting on the back of my hand.
Ernest continued, âNow Mr. Brooks here was just tellinâ me he didnât have anyone to dance with for the next square dance and I told him I knew the prettiest girl in all of Bisbee. And I am so glad I found you, itâs dashedly crowded in here.â He gestured around him.
âWill you dance with me?â Jay asked, her grey-blue eyes glinting sharply in the lamplight.
I was so dazed by everything happening that when she held out her hand to take me onto the dance floor, I simply took it. My eyes met Ernestâs as we walked away from him and he gave me a conspiratorial thumbs up before bounding away to pester some other attendee.
Soon I found myself standing across from Jay. I frowned, but on seeing my face, she grinned.
âWhat I did to deserve a look like that, Iâm not sure.â she laughed and raised an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. âAskinâ me to dance is bad enough.â
The band kicked up and the caller called out the steps. We quieted as we moved through on the dance floor. The sounds of a string band washed over us, the banjo plucky and upbeat. The dance was quick tempoed as square dancing often is. My feet faltered at times, but Jayâs never seemed to. We do-si-doed around the other couples, our eyes meeting in time with the music. Her gaze was intense, piercing almost. Iâd never felt so nailed down by a pair of eyes.
Heat rose in my cheeks as we moved. I was starting to get overly warm from the crowd, the dancing. I was shuffled to a new dance partner, a tall lanky man who moved too exuberantly. I felt like I was being shoved around rather than truly dancing.
My feet got tangled up during one of his over-enthusiastic swings and I stumbled hard, my arms flailing. Before I could even brace myself to fall, Jayâs callused hand was in mine and sheâd righted me, her other hand firm on my waist before she stepped easily into the next move without even a pause.
It was all too much for me. I was hot, sweaty. My head was swimming and everything seemed a bit muted, the voices of the crowd around us rising into a low roar as the dance ended. I felt foolish and out of place. As soon as the song ended I pushed through the crowd towards the door. I spared one glance backward. Jay stood on the dance floor alone among the crowd, her hands hanging at her sides as she watched me go with those keen eyes of hers.
You can read the next chapter here: Chapter 4
I like how youâre playing with gender roles here
Things are heating up!