What's A Girl To Do

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Book excerpt

Chapter One

Lissa Carter luxuriated in the warmth of Thomas’s body beside hers in the bed and smiled to herself, thinking of her life to come.

She’d always fantasized about falling in love. The Dime Novels she bought at Mr. Hanson’s Apothecary and snuck into the house filled her head with wicked thoughts. She rolled over and began stroking the wiry hairs on Thomas’s gently heaving chest. “Stop that,” he snapped and brushed her hand away. “It tickles and I’d like to have a nap before I ride back to the ranch.”

“I’d like to speak of our wedding now, Thomas,” Lissa said softly into his ear.

Thomas James bolted upright in the bed. “Wedding?” he gasped as he stared down at the startled young woman beside him. “Who the hell said anything about a damned wedding, you silly little twit?”

“But … but we just …” Lissa stammered with tears brimming in her green eyes. “I was a …

“You were a sweet little taste, and I was happy to be the one to relieve you of your virginity,” he said as he climbed over Lissa and out of the bed in the hotel room, “but you’re a lowly bastard shop girl and certainly not the sort of girl a James man marries and has children with.” He began to chuckle as he slid his legs into his trousers. “Whatever gave you the idea a man like me would want to do more than shove his cock inside you for sport, girl? You’re nothing but a tramp who spread her legs for the first man of note to come along and ask, just like your dead mother did all those years ago.”

“But you said you loved me.” Tears began to slide down her cheeks as Lissa realized she’d been duped by the man who’d been paying attention to her over the past few weeks and saying all the things she wanted to hear—the things she’d read in all those ridiculous novels.

Thomas dropped into the chair beside the bed and pulled on his boots. “Your tight little cunny was what I loved, Lissa, and it was everything I’d imagined it would be,” Thomas smirked, “and I’ll gladly pay you its worth as put forward by the women at Halsy’s Boarding House and the saloon.” He dug into his trouser pocket, pulled out a silver dollar, and tossed it on the bed. “Your little outburst, however, has lost you the damned tip.” He stood to put on his shirt and jacket. “I’d wager you could make a fair living at Halsy’s now that I’ve broken you in.” Thomas laughed maniacally and left the room.

Lissa fell back onto the rumpled pillow. How could she have been so stupid? Wasn’t Thomas James the sort of man her grandmother had warned her about all these years? Hadn’t he been the sort of man who’d ruined her mother and caused Lissa to be brought into the world a bastard? Lissa never knew who’d fathered her. Her mother had never told her grandparents the name of the man who’d impregnated her and she’d taken that name with her to her grave.

Fear took hold of Lissa. She jumped to her feet and rushed to the washbasin to scrub Thomas’s seed from her ruined womanhood. She was twenty-four-years-old and educated at the best school for young women her grandmother could afford. How could she be so stupid as this? What was she to do now? Thomas would likely spread the news of her ruination by him around to all his cronies and they’d be around for some of the same.

Lissa dashed the tears from her face, stared at the spots of blood on the cloth she’d wiped between her legs with, and dressed as she fought back more tears of shame at her stupidity. When she’d straightened her mess of red curls, she pinned on her bonnet and let herself out of the room. She crept down the stairs to the lobby and was relieved to see the man who minded the desk was nowhere to be seen.

The cool evening air hit her face as Lissa stepped out onto the back porch of the hotel and she hurried away toward the boardwalk on the front street.

“Lissa,” a woman called, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw Mrs. Mullins, a frequent customer in the mercantile and a friend of her grandmother, waving at her from across the dusty street. “I’ve been looking all over Crimson Creek for you, Lissa,” Mrs. Mullins said when she caught up with Lissa on the boardwalk. “I had to take your grandmother to Doc Sterling’s office.”

“What?” Lissa gasped at the mention of her grandmother. “Is she hurt or ill again?”

Mrs. Mullins took Lissa’s hands in hers. “I fear she’s gone, Lissa,” the middle-aged schoolteacher said. “Doc said it was her heart. It just gave out.”

“Gone?” Lissa mumbled as Mrs. Mullins led her along the boardwalk to Doc Sterling’s office a few doors down from the mercantile she and her grandmother ran. “Grandmother is gone?”

“I’m so very sorry, Lissa,” Doctor Robert Sterling said and helped Lissa into a chair, “but you know she’s been ill for some time with her heart.”

“She takes the pills you gave her every day, Doctor,” Lissa said without giving thought to her words. “Where is my grandmother? I want to see her.”

“Those pills were to help ease the symptoms, Lissa—the pain in her chest,” the doctor said with a deep sigh, “there was nothing to be done for her heart itself. It was only a matter of time before it stopped beating. Did she not tell you that?”

With those words, the tears began to flow down Lissa’s cheeks. Thomas had betrayed her, and her grandmother had left her. What was she to do now? Crimson Creek had never wanted her, and she couldn’t honestly say she wanted anything more to do with Crimson Creek.

The days that followed were a blur in Lissa’s mind. She dressed in black linen, hung a black mourning wreath on the door, and closed the mercantile until after her grandmother’s funeral. She and her grandmother had lived in private rooms above the store. Her grandfather had died when Lissa was only nine years old. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her grandfather had told Lissa God had taken her young mother in punishment for her shameful ways. Lissa heard his chiding words in her head all through the funeral and as they lowered her grandmother’s coffin into the grave beside her husband and daughter. Would God take her now for her shameful ways too?

“I’m going to need you to come to my office at your earliest convenience, Miss Carter,” Elliot Jackson, her grandmother’s attorney said as he escorted Lissa back toward the mercantile. “I need you there for the reading of your grandmother’s will.”

“We can go now,” Lissa said as she stopped and wiped her eyes on her dainty, embroidered handkerchief.

“If you don’t have plans for after the funeral,” Elliot said and took her arm. “Are the ladies from the church not hosting a supper for you?”

Lissa snorted. “I’m the bastard daughter of a disgraced woman, Mr. Jackson. The ladies of Crimson Creek Baptist don’t have much to do with or for me.”

“Is that so?” he said with a reassuring squeezes of her hand. “I have a feeling that may change very soon.”

“Then, you know something I don’t, Mr. Jackson.”

“Indeed, I do, Miss Carter,” he said with a grin, “Indeed, I do.”

They reached the attorney’s office and went inside where a slender, balding man in a worn suit sat at a desk going over some ledgers. “Mr. Fisk,” Elliot said, “will you fetch me the Carter file from my cabinet?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Jackson, sir,” he said and left the room.

“May I offer you some coffee?” the attorney asked. “Jamison Fisk may not be much to look at, but he makes a good cup of coffee.”

“That would be lovely,” Lissa said, unable to remember the last time she’d eaten or drank anything more than water since her grandmother’s passing.

Fisk returned with a file in his hand and put it on the desk in front of Elliot Jackson. The attorney set a cup of steaming coffee in front of Lissa along with a bowl of sugar and a pitcher of cream.

“I drink it black,” she said, “but thank you.”

“Did your grandmother ever discuss what she planned to put in her will?” Elliot asked as he opened the folder and lifted out a piece of heavy parchment with writing on it.

Lissa shook her head. “I never thought it any of my business,” she said and sipped the hot coffee. Elliot was right. Mr. Fisk certainly knew how to brew a cup of coffee.

“Well,” the attorney said with a grin, “I’m going to read it to you now and Mr. Fisk here will act as our witness. Then I’ll take it to the courthouse and register it with the clerk to make it all legal.”

“Of course,” Lissa said, her interest piqued for the first time. Why did Mr. Jackson seem to think things were going to change for her now?

The attorney began to read. I, Idagene Carter, being of sound mind and body do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions to my granddaughter, Melissa Jane Carter including the physical building housing the Crimson Creek Mercantile and everything therein. All the stock and fixtures are paid for, so they are hers free and clear of any financial incumbrance. She knows I’ve never held with doing business on credit. There is a little house out on Marcum Prairie where Delia Gray resides rent-free that is also hers, but I hope she will allow the old woman to remain there until her death as Lissa’s grandfather and I promised her after she tended Lissa’s mother as her midwife.

There is also a working account at the Crimson Creek Bank for the purchase of merchandise for the store in the amount of one thousand dollars. I keep that amount in there at all times and apply the excess to my savings on a monthly basis. Mr. Jackson will be able to give you the amount in the savings account, Lissa.

Mr. Jackson looked up from the paper. “Your grandmother’s savings at Crimson Creek Bank as of her death amounted to roughly fifteen thousand dollars.”

Lissa heard a gasp but she didn’t know if it had come from her mouth or Mr. Fisk’s. Fifteen thousand dollars was a fortune in Crimson Creek, Idaho. How had she not known her grandmother had that kind of money tucked away? They’d always lived simply above the store and dressed like everybody else in cotton calico or plaid linen. Sunday dresses might have some lace trim or ribbon, but everyday things were simple and made for the most part by Lissa herself. Her grandmother had stopped sewing some years ago as her fingers stiffened with age and her husband’s death had put more responsibility for the running of the store and tending to Lissa on her shoulders.

“Mr. Fisk,” the attorney said to the wide-eyed clerk, “why don’t you run down to the cafe and bring Miss Carter and I back one of their hot lunch baskets. I think Miss Carter looks to be in need of a filling, hot meal. Get one for yourself as well,” he added with a grin as the clerk took the silver coins he offered and left the office.

“Are you all right, Miss Carter?” Elliot Jackson asked Lissa who sat with her mouth open and tears brimming in her eyes. “Now do you see why I think those women at the Crimson Creek Baptist will be treating you differently?”

“Because I’m rich?” Lissa said with a sigh. “But how will they even know?”

Elliot grinned with his eyes darting to the street. “Fisk makes good coffee,” he said, “but he’s also a horrid gossip. I’m sure all of Crimson Creek will be buzzing with your good fortune before he gets back with our lunch and eligible men along with their mamas will be lining up at your door, begging for your hand in marriage.”

“Oh, my,” Lissa said and emptied her cup. “Do you think that was wise?”

“Do you not wish to marry, Miss Carter?” he asked with a raised brow as he got to his feet and began to pace the small office space.

Lissa looked away. Up until a few days before, she’d wanted nothing more than to marry Thomas James, the widowed son of a local rancher who’d been coming into the mercantile on a regular basis to visit with her and raise her hopes of just that possibility. Now the thought of a man touching her made her skin crawl with disgust and shame.

“I’ve been told I’m not marriage material here in Crimson Creek,” Lissa said, remembering Thomas’s hurtful words as she listened to Elliot’s boots clicking on the wooden floor as he paced.

Lissa flinched when two hands grasped her shoulders from behind. “You’re a beautiful young woman, Miss Carter,” Elliot Jackson said as he kneaded her shoulders with his strong hands, causing shivers to run down Lissa’s spine. “You have much to offer a man here in Crimson Creek and once word gets around about your fortuitous inheritance,” he added with a soft chuckle, “I’m certain young men and their mothers will be lining up at your door to pay you court.”

He moved his hand from her right shoulder to twine a bit of her red hair around his finger. “If I weren’t already obliged to Miss Carrie Green in Greenville,” he whispered into her ear, sending more shivers through Lissa’s body, “I might have been amongst them. Have you yet been initiated into the ways of men?” Elliot asked as his left hand slid down off her shoulder toward her bosom. “I know young women are taught to save themselves for their marriage bed,” he said with a soft chuckle, “but that’s not really practical. Is it? A woman should know what to expect and how to respond when she finally comes to that bed.” His hand slipped on down to cup her bosom and began to search for her nipple beneath the layers of linen concealing it.

“Ah,” he said with a soft sigh when his thumb and forefinger found the hard nub beneath the cloth, “you’re already responsive to a man’s touch, I see.” Elliot took her arm, pulled it around, and rested her hand upon the stiffened cock in his trousers. “As you can see, I’m responsive too.”

A few minutes later, his trousers were open and Lissa found his erect cock in her hand with Elliot’s hips rocking back and forth to slide the erection in her fist. Lissa wanted to escape this but she didn’t know how. Were all men like this, consumed with nothing but satisfying their urges?

“Mr. Jackson, this is most unseemly,” Lissa managed to gasp as she tugged her hand back into her lap.

Elliot Jackson danced around the chair to stand before Lissa with his erect cock in his hand. “You’ve done this to me, girl,” he said as his hand stroked his erection. “I’d like to slide it between your legs or between your ass cheeks, but your lips will do for now.” He grabbed Lissa by the neck and pulled her trembling lips toward his cock.

What was she supposed to do now?

“Just open your mouth and let me slide it over your hot tongue a few times,” he moaned as he pressed the bulbous head into her lips.

Lissa’s eyes were wide with shock and dismay, but she relented and parted her lips, allowing the organ to enter her mouth. She didn’t know what more to do.

“There you go,” Elliot groaned with pleasure and began to pump his hips again. Lissa’s eyes kept darting to the window in the door as she prayed nobody would enter and see this horrid, unseemly display.

“Here it comes, honey,” Elliot groaned as he shoved into her mouth, causing her to choke and gag, “get ready for a mouth full of the sweetest cream you’ll ever taste, Miss Carter.”

Lissa’s eyes went wide as her tongue was coated with something warm and bitter tasting. Did he expect her to swallow this foul excretion? The mess began to seep from her lips along with Elliot’s wilting cock and Lissa pressed the kerchief she held in her fist to her lips to catch it before there was a mess on her black mourning blouse.

“Yes,” Elliot said and patted Lissa’s cheek after buttoning his poplin trousers, “you’ll make some lucky bastard in Crimson Creek a good wife someday.”

Lissa was still wiping her mouth when Mr. Fisk returned with their lunches. She found it difficult to eat the fried chicken but was happy for the hot coffee Elliot offered her to wash down the foul taste lingering on her tongue. Who had ever told him the stuff tasted sweet?

She finished her meal, thanked Elliot for his service to her grandmother, and left to return to her rooms above the mercantile. She wanted nothing more than to bathe and clean his filth from her face and mouth.