Christie And The Hellcat Part 28

GIF.

They were sitting cuddling in the kitchen when Zee looked at the clock, gave a start, and stood up. The abruptness of her movement tipped Christie off her lap and onto the floor. Outraged, Christie stared up at her.

Zee chuckled and held out a hand. "Stop dawdling and get your glad rags on."

"What are you talking about?" A cross Christie allowed herself to be pulled up and set about dusting off her skirt.

"We're going over to Angie's." Zee grabbed her hat from the hook, reshaped the crown, and crammed it on her head. "Go on. Get changed. I'll get the buckboard ready."

"But I've been looking forward to spending time alone with you."

Zee paused in the doorway and looked back at her. "It'll do you good," she said seriously. "Besides, some of the girls are bound to have letters they need help with. We've been away a spell."

Christie threw up her hands and stomped up the stairs, grumbling.

In the bedroom, she changed into her only good visiting dress and eyed her reflection in the mirror. She was still trying to fix her hair so it didn't look like a bird's nest when Zee's shout wafted up the stairs.

"Come on."

Christie gave her reflection a last despairing glance, then stomped downstairs and through the kitchen, muttering about inconsiderate good-for-nothings who sprung unexpected and unwanted invitations 184 on their better half. She grabbed her drawstring bag, bonnet, and shawl, then slammed the back door behind her and allowed herself to be helped up into the buckboard.

The corner of Zee's mouth quirked and Christie silently dared her to make just one, just one, smart-aleck comment. But Zee merely flicked the reins. The gelding pulled the buckboard forward, and they rattled out of the yard and down the track.

Christie glowered at the night sky. It was a full moon, and the stars were clear and bright. She tried to remember her constellations, sucking in a lungful of air and then exhaling, feeling her bad mood gradually evaporate.

A hand reached across and adjusted the shawl around her shoulders and she looked over at the silhouetted figure next to her.

"Sorry for being so bad tempered."

The shoulders shrugged. "I deserved it," came Zee's voice.

"Shoulda told you earlier. Truth is, we were sitting so snug and cozy, I forgot all about Angie's invitation."

She turned to face Christie. "Told her this afternoon we'd go.

Thought, what with the Riker lad and everything, being with folks who appreciate you for who you are might cheer you up." A pause.

"And I know you've been missing playing the piano."

Christie reached over and patted Zee on the knee. "You're right,"

she said. "It will do me good. And I have missed playing the piano."

She sighed.

"One day I'll buy you a piano," said Zee. "Not a player piano, a proper one."

Christie snorted. "With what?"

White teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "I'll think of something."

Chapter 6.

Four hours later, Christie lay in the back of the buckboard, hands laced over her stomach, staring hazily up at the stars, and conceded that she'd enjoyed her evening.

The inhabitants of Angie's Palace had welcomed them like long lost friendseven Red Mary's face had cracked into a smile (though it was probably more for Zee's benefit than Christie's).

They spent the evening in the brothel's back room with Angie, who was wearing her trademark Turkish trousers and smoking her pipe. In between clients, the wh.o.r.es popped in, staying to tell them the latest gossip and funny stories about Zee that made her look rueful and curse under her breath and on one occasionChristie had unfortunately been too far away to overhear the exchangespray a mouthful of whiskey all over her cards.

Zee had played poker and complained about the chattering women gathered around her, but Christie could see that, despite protestations to the contrary, she loved the attention. As for Christie, she wrote some letters for Lazy Alice, played the player piano to her heart's content, laughed until her cheeks ached, sang until she was hoa.r.s.e, and danced until her feet hurt. She also drank more champagne than she was used to.

"You all right back there?" came Zee's voice.

"Jush fine," said Christie. For some reason her tongue wouldn't work properly. "T'morrow," she said thickly, "I am going to see Miss Bartlett."

"The school teacher?"

"The very shame." Christie licked her lips and tried again. "Same . . . Aha!" She crowed in triumph.

"Why?"

186.

"Eh?"

"Why are you going to see Miss Bartlett?"

"'Cause that'sh what Angie shuggested."

A long suffering sigh drifted back to her on the cool night air.

"And why did Angie suggest that?"

"'Cause if anyone can shtop that little brute from playing hooky and teach him some mannersh, it'sh hish teacher." Why did so many words have the letter S in them?

"Ah. Good idea."

"My thoughtsh exackly."

"Doubt if she'll be able to help though."

The stars were spinning in a clockwise direction. Fascinating. "Of coursh she will. Anyway . . . better'n doing nothing."

Zee grunted.

A thought struck Christie. "Zee?"

"Hm?"

"What was it that Clubfoot Liz said that made you shpit out your whishkey?"

"Nothing."

"Must've been something. Standsh to reason."

"Sure you really want to know?"

"Would I ashk you otherwishe?"

There was a moment's silence, then Zee said, "According to Liz, things are a lot quieter since we got our own place."

"Ah, how shweet. You mean the girls miss ush?" Christie flexed her lips and tongue and tried again. "Us?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"Seems whenever I bedded you, you made such a racket it set off all the cats in the alley out back."

Christie tried to make sense of that. Then her cheeks grew hot, and so did the tips of her ears.

"Hey," came Zee's voice. "You all right back there?"

"Oh, shure. Just dying of embarrashment," muttered Christie, softly so not even Zee could hear.

"You did ask," chuckled Zee.

Not softly enough apparently.

GIF.

187.

"Why've we shtopped?" Christie peered up at Zee. One minute the deputy had been carrying her up the stairs, making interesting threats involving a feather, the next she was standing frozen outside the bedroom door, an odd look on her face.

"Wait here." Zee set a disappointed Christie back on her own two feet. She drew one of her Colts, c.o.c.ked it in one smooth movement, and with her free hand relieved Christie of the lamp.

"Wha?" Christie blinked at the empty s.p.a.ce that had held Zee only seconds before. Next time, I'll avoid the champagne.

Then Zee was back, and Christie was relieved to see that her gun was holstered. She didn't look happy though. "Window's broke," she said tersely.

"What broke ita bird?"

"Must've been."

For a moment Christie had the impression Zee was going to say something else. She grimaced. "Blood and feathersh everywhere?"

"No. No sign of the bird now either. Must have flown away." Zee started down the stairs. "I'll get something to board up the window."

She paused and looked back. "Stay clear of it, darlin'. There's gla.s.s on the floor."

"All right." Christie pushed open the bedroom door and lurched through it. The cold struck her instantlyit must have been that which had alerted Zee. She frowned at the shattered windowpane and the shards of gla.s.s glittering on the floorboards. More money down the drain. Dratted pigeon!

She was still struggling to undress when she heard booted feet clattering up the stairs. Zee took one look at her, grinned, then put down the hammer, planks, and broom she was carrying and came to help.

"My fingersh won't do what I tell them to," complained Christie.

"Mine will." In no time flat, Zee had stripped off the troublesome dress, followed by the impossible petticoats and undergarments.

"See."

"That's only because you've had lots of practice undressing me."

The night breeze from the window was raising goose pimples and she hugged herself to keep warm.

"Here." Zee had found Christie's nightdress and was holding it out to her. These days, Christie seldom wore one (Zee kept her warm at night), but tonight, she allowed Zee to help her into it.

188.

"Get into bed," ordered Zee. "I'll fix the window. Won't take long."

Huddled beneath satin sheets, Christie watched Zee sweep the shattered gla.s.s into one corner then nail some boards over the broken pane. Almost at once, the room felt warmer.

"There." The hammer joined the broom in the corner with a thud that made Christie wince, then the mattress was sagging as Zee sat next to her and put an arm round her shoulders. "You all right?"

"Tired." Christie leaned into Zee. A huge yawn overtook her and Zee laughed.

"So I see. Still cold?"

"A little."

Zee grinned and started to pull her s.h.i.+rt off over her head. "Have to see what I can do about that."

Chapter 7.