Chapter Two
“Did someone see you use the chloroform on her?” came a male voice from the recesses of Angela’s mind.
“No. I pretended to help her with the veil,” came Sammy’s voice. “Besides, there were so many people around us that no one noticed.”
“You better be right. I don’t need there to be trouble. I need the money from the sale of these women.”
“I was careful. No one is going to stop the sale.”
Angela tried to move, but her body felt heavy. What was it he said he used on her? Chloroform? She had never heard of that before. Just what did it do? Was it poison? Was she going to die? No. That didn’t make sense. The men were talking about selling her. They couldn’t sell her if she was dead.
“I wonder what’s under that veil,” the first man asked. “Did you get a look under there?”
“No,” Sammy replied. “I was too busy getting her here before she woke up.”
“Well, she should be waking up any minute now.”
Someone approached her and knelt beside her. He grabbed her jaw with rough fingers and turned her face toward him. Even through the veil, she could smell the man’s awful breath. He started to lift the veil, but she grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Oh.” The man chuckled. “So our lady is awake.”
Angela opened her eyes and saw a pudgy man who was probably in his forties leaning over her. She jerked up and scooted away from him. It wasn’t until she was against the wall that she realized she was in an abandoned livery stable with two other young women who seemed just as scared as she felt.
“She’s a spitfire,” the man said with a laugh. “No wonder you had to force her to come here. She must have sensed that you were up to no good.”
The man rose to his feet and went over to an old table. He picked up a bottle of whiskey and drank some of it before putting it back down. Next to him, Sammy held a gun to make sure none of the women would try to get away.
“The men won’t care what she looks like under that veil,” the man said. “She has long blonde hair. Men will like that. She’s got a nice figure.” His gaze lingered on her breasts. “She’s larger than most. The men will like that even more.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked. What was this obsession men had with breasts? If they couldn’t see a woman’s face, all they could notice was her chest? She glanced over at the other two women who were softly crying in the corner of the room.
Without meaning to, she checked their breasts and noticed that theirs weren’t as large as hers. But then, they were also pretty. One was a brunette and the other a blonde, like her. Neither had scars. She would trade her bust size just to have freedom from her imperfections.
The man motioned for her to join the other two women. “I’ll return in a half hour with something for you ladies to eat and drink. I want you to be comfortable while you’re waiting for the men to bid on you.”
“Bid on us?” Angela asked, not bothering to move from her spot.
“Well, I can’t marry all three of you,” he replied. “I don’t even want to marry one. I love my freedom too much. There are men in this area who do want to marry, and since there are so few available ladies, especially good looking ones,” he winked, “they will all be fighting over who will get a wife. By the end of the auction, you three will be wed.”
Angela glanced at the other two women. The blonde was wiping the tears from her eyes while the other continued to cry.
“If you see one of the men in the crowd who appeals to you,” Sammy began, “you should give him a gesture to let him know you want to be with him. It’ll encourage him to keep bidding.”
“Pick the ones who look like they have money,” the man added. “The more you earn me, the better.” He chuckled as if he had just said the funniest thing in the world.
Sammy laughed along with him. “Mr. Dodson is right. You want someone of means taking care of you long after he paid for you.”
Mr. Dodson turned to Sammy. “You stay here and watch them. I’ll bring them back something to eat and drink.”
Sammy nodded and waited for the man to leave before he turned his gaze back to the women. “No harm will come to you. You have my word. We want you to be in good spirits when the men come to bid. A happy woman is far more desirable than a harpy.”
“What makes you think we can be happy when you have a gun pointed at us?” the blonde woman sitting next to the brunette snapped.
Angela watched her. Though she had started off as seeming timid, she seemed to be gathering her courage. Maybe it was the shock wearing off.
The opposite seemed to be true for Angela. Her initial shock of being here had prompted her to act out in anger. But now, as the situation was sinking in, she found her anger quickly giving way to fear. What if no one bid on her? What if the man—Mr. Dodson—was wrong? What if the men knew that the veil meant she was undesirable and decided not to bid on her? Then what? She came to Omaha in hopes of having a family. Her arms ached to hold her own children instead of someone else’s. Would she never get to see that happen?
Sammy clucked his tongue and plopped down in the only chair by the table. He set the gun in his lap but still held it in a way that indicated he would use it if he needed to. “I don’t mean to scare any of you,” he said, “but you can’t blame me for being careful. I have to make sure you three stay put. I’ll get five percent of what the men will pay for all of you.”
The blonde frowned. “Is your honor worth so little?”
“I don’t have any honor,” he replied, smiling as if he was proud of it.
“Apparently not. You are not a gentleman.”
“I never claimed I was. All I want is money, and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to get it.”
“Does that include murder?” the brunette spoke up in a shaky voice. “Will you kill us if we don’t comply with your plans?”
His eyes grew so wide that Angela was surprised they wouldn’t pop out of his head. “Murder? No. I’m not going to kill any of you. I just said no harm will come to you. Weren’t you listening?”
“Then why do you need a gun?” Angela asked.
“Because I have to make sure you don’t run off,” he replied. “If you run off, I don’t get my cut of the money.”
“And what will you do with the money? Waste it on alcohol and women?” the blonde asked.
“Of course not,” Sammy said. “I’m not foolish. I’m going to open up my own business. I going to use this money to get it started. I’m going to open up a track and people will pay to race their horses.”
“So instead of having people bid on women, they’ll be bidding on horses,” the brunette said.
“Well, no one will be going home with the horse,” Sammy replied. “Though I’ve seen some homely looking women, and you wouldn’t know the difference between them and a horse.” He laughed. “We don’t got that problem with you three. The men who win you will be very happy.”
“Sammy,” someone called from outside, “we need you.”
“I’ll be right back, ladies.” He stood up, gave them a bow, and then hurried on outside.
“Can you believe this?” the brunette muttered. “I was led to believe I was going to marry a wealthy business owner, and instead, I got stuck here.” She glanced at the other two. “Did Mr. Dodson tell you that he owned a clothing line that tailored to the elite of society?”
The blonde nodded. “He did, but that wasn’t why I answered the ad. I thought he sounded sincere.” She rolled her eyes and glanced around the place. “I can’t believe I was so easily fooled.”
The brunette looked at Angela. “Why did you agree to come?”
Though they wouldn’t see it because of her veil, she knew her cheeks turned pink because her face grew hot. “I didn’t think I’d get married any other way,” she softly spoke, unable to look directly at them.
“Is something wrong with your face?” the blonde asked.
Noting the sympathy in her voice, Angela turned her gaze to her. “I got stuck in a burning barn when I was five. Some people would rather not see the scars.”
“I’m sorry,” the blonde said. “The fire must have been awful to go through.”
“But you didn’t say anything about it to Mr. Dodson?” the brunette asked. “You know, if you do, he might not put you up on the auction block like he’s going to do to us. If you remove that veil, he might let you free.”
“I don’t want to be free. I want to get married and have children,” Angela replied.
The brunette’s eyes grew wide. “So you’re keeping it on so he’ll put you up for the bidding?”
“No one will marry me if they see my face.” Angela turned her gaze back to the floor. How could they understand? They were pretty. They had no scars. There was nothing wrong with them.
“I suppose I would do the same in your situation,” the blonde finally spoke up after a long silence passed between them. “I’m Natalie, by the way.”
“I’m Angela.”
The two looked at the brunette, and the brunette said, “I’m Velma.” She shook her head. “What a way for us to meet. And who’s to know what will happen to us?”
“I hope whoever we marry, they’ll be nice,” Natalie said.
“I hope whoever I marry will have money. I don’t know the first thing about domestic chores.” Velma adjusted the lace at the edge of her sleeves. “Mr. Dodson said he had two servants. One to cook and the other to clean. From what I’ve seen of Omaha, it doesn’t appear many men can afford servants.”
Angela would just be happy to have someone who could overlook her scars, but she’d rather not say that. They would never understand why her requirements were so simple. It was too easy to think looks weren’t all that important when you were already attractive.
While the other two continued to talk about the men they were hoping to marry, Angela thought over what she might say when her future husband finally saw her without the veil. She couldn’t hide her face from him forever. The sooner she came up with the right words to soothe his anger, the better. Because there was no doubt that he wasn’t going to be the least bit happy once he realized what he got himself into by marrying her.