Authors: Carmella Jones
“What on earth?” Paige interrupted only to be hushed by Rose.
“He will not talk of it. The truth is, this saloon was owned by our other brother. When he passed away, along with Mitch’s wife, the cheating whore, Mitch took over the saloon. He hates this place; always has. He hates that I prefer to do this, his baby sister. He hates that every corner of this place reminds him that his wife came here to spend more nights with his own brother than with him. He is angry, and he has every right to be.”
“Why on earth would he keep this place if it is so full of the ugly past?” asked Paige.
“Sense of duty, maybe? He blames himself for their deaths, maybe? Some in town say it was his fault. I don’t know. No one knows for sure what happened that night, but ever since, Mitch has had a bottle in his hand. He has insane mood swings. Every now and then I see my older brother, the one who was madly in love for over ten years- blindly perhaps, the one who cherished life, land, and his passion for the wide open spaces. I have tried to talk him into selling me the saloon, but to no good end.”
Paige sat quietly for a moment. She felt intensely sad for Mitch, but also suddenly unsure. “What is my role here if not to be his wife in truth?”
Rose lightly touched Paige’s hand. “In most ways, you will be a housekeeper. Mitch turned this place from a rundown heap into the shining beauty it is now, but he thinks he needs help to keep it up. He doesn’t really. The too clean atmosphere has driven most of our business away. My best clients are uncomfortable here now so... Be that as it may, Mitch wants you to learn his standards of cleanliness and help him keep it up. That will mean that you will be cleaning, cooking, sewing, doing light repairs, and so on. I hope you are not afraid of getting your hands dirty with a little hard work now and then, just as I hope you can hide your obvious distaste for me and my girls.”
Paige heaved a sigh of relief. “If clean is what he wants, clean is what he will get. That I can absolutely do. And I apologize, I do not understand why you would want to do what you do, but I will try not to show my distaste.”
Paige sensed an honest friend in Rose, and considering the odd nature of her situation, she was glad to have a friend.
***
The next morning, Paige rose to a light knock on her door. She cracked it open to find Rose holding a candle and peering at her. Rose was already dressed for the day complete with her hair done in its tight ringlets and her make-up extravagantly applied.
“Come on. Mitch likes to eat breakfast before dawn breaks. You need to get a move on.”
Paige hastily got dressed and pulled her braid back and into a tight bun. As she left her room, which Rose informed her was at the opposite end of the hall from Mitch, she saw his door open a crack with a lamp burning within. Paige had spent most of her night lying away thinking of how horrible he must feel internally. She had not ever heard of such a horrible betrayal and had certainly never had seen anything like it. Paige felt intense pity for Mitch and had determined in the night that she would do everything in her power to help him. Maybe in time, she thought, she could help him find happiness again.
As she turned to go downstairs, the door to his room creaked open and he stepped into the hallway. His eyes were red rimmed and he was in the same clothes from the day before. His hair, long and untrimmed, hung around his face in limp strands and even from that distance she could smell the liquor on him and his clothes. He looked at Paige and waved half-heartedly as he moved into the separate washroom. As the door clicked behind him, Paige continued on her way making a new promise to herself- to see the man cleaned up and presentable, and if it killed her, to see him sober.
***
After a month, Paige found herself settled into her new routine. She still had a hard time getting used to Mitch’s mood swings, though she already knew when they would be bad, which entirely depended on what he had been drinking that day, and how much. She had come to rely on Rose a great deal in handling Mitch during the worst of his drunken tirades, which often ended in smashed glasses, a great deal of shouting, and occasionally another broken chair. What amazed Paige was that even in the midst of his worst rampages, Mitch was still in control enough that he never took his anger out on anyone or anything in the main areas of the saloon, and he never ever raised his hand to anyone.
The only moment Paige felt unsafe was one night , nearly three weeks after she had arrived, when he was tearing up his own room again and she had gone in alone to talk him down. She had startled him, and he had thrown an entire bottle of his most expensive whiskey at her head. She had avoided it, but it shattered on the door frame, and the flying glass shards had flown into the back of her neck and ended up in her hair. As Paige had stood there in shock looking at her hand, which had blood from her neck, Mitch had sobered up almost instantly, terror clearly marked on his face. Paige realized his immediate remorse, but backed out of his room, still shocked and also fighting back anger of her own.
Rose had appeared at that moment, and muttering under her breath, led Paige into the washroom where the two spent the rest of the night combing glass from Paige’s hair, treating the small cuts, and washing the splashed whiskey out.
After that night, things between Paige and Mitch changed ever so slightly. Mitch had fully expected Paige to simply leave the next morning. He could not blame her in the least. He had indeed sobered up that night, and had tossed and turned all night in anger at himself. His drunkenness had hurt the young woman. She should have yelled at him. She should have thrown something back. She should have acted on her anger. It was what his wife had done. It would have helped him feel better, he thought. However, when the next morning, Paige helped with breakfast and went about her morning as though nothing had happened, except that she purposefully avoided Mitch, he was dumbfounded. What kind of woman would stay?
Because she stayed, Mitch started to pay closer attention to her, especially when they went out together. He made a point of taking her with him every time he left the saloon. He took a small amount of pride in having such a pretty young woman on his arm, showing the town that his wife may have cheated on him, but he was still able to keep a beautiful young woman by his side. He knew it was foolish, but he also took a small amount of comfort in her presence when they were out, while Paige felt a certain amount of protectiveness over Mitch as she always picked up on the scorn the townspeople held for him. She had heard some of the whispers from the locals. What kind of man has a wife cheat with his own brother and remains blind to the situation? Plus, while no one could blame him, they all assumed he was the cause of the couple’s death even though no one knew exactly what had happened, and even fewer were willing to discuss the matter with Paige.
The rest of that month had passed with Paige and Mitch getting used to each other’s presence. They still hardly knew each other, and neither was sure if they truly wanted to get to know the other. That remained true for Paige until she got a letter from her sister demanding to know how she was doing, and Paige realized she had nothing good to answer.
Suddenly, Paige realized she needed to take bigger steps with Mitch. She admitted to herself despite her frustration with his bad attitude and bad habits, that she wanted to make their marriage real, and wanted it to work. She was attracted to Mitch, when he wasn’t drunk. She found herself protective of him, but also she found that she liked him, and she absolutely enjoyed being alone with him on their strolls, even though they rarely said more than two words to each other. There was strength in the man, and kindness, despite his anger and bitterness. Paige made up her mind; it was not simply a matter of helping him get sober, it was a matter of teaching the man that he could love again. Who better than to teach him than she, his wife?
From that point on, Mitch noted a change in how Paige acted around him. Until then, she had been determined and stubborn, but had avoided him as much as he avoided her when they were inside the saloon. Mitch did his best to avoid most of the women in the saloon. He was not unkind to the working women, certainly not to his sister, but he disapproved and hated owning the place when it clashed so deeply with his own convictions, and yet, he did not have the heart to sell it, not even to Rose.
It was typically easy to avoid all the women, even Paige. Most of the time, when he was ready to head out, he had to search her out. But suddenly he started finding her sitting near him as she was working on sewing or paperwork, things that she had been doing in her room. He started catching her gazing at him from across the room, or smiling at him as he passed her in the upstairs hall. She started lingering at his side when she served him dinner, casually laying her hand on his shoulder, or quickly straightening his uncut hair at his neck.
When they went out, rather than simply standing at his side, he noticed her watching him out of the corner of her eye, her hand on his arm no longer limp, but rather squeezing occasionally, and once or twice stroking his forearm. Her little glances. Her innocent touches. She thought he was oblivious, but he was not. He simply did not want to respond and was frankly confused by the sudden little shows of interest and affection. He was still confused about why she had stayed, but this swing her attitude toward him had him completely confounded.
He was considering the recent changes in her behavior toward him one morning when there was a heavy tap on his door. He opened it to find Rose standing on the other side.
“Yes?” he asked his sister, dreading conflict with her, something they did more than anything since their brother passed.
Rose walked past him and sat on the edge of his bed. “We have to talk.” She said simply, daring him to try to extract her from his room.
Mitch moved over to the chair in the corner and sat down with a huff expecting to get another tongue lashing.
“About what?” he asked gruffly as he took a deep drink from yet another bottle of liquor.
“Two things. First, your excessive drinking and ridiculous behavior. We are losing business. We have been ever since you took over. The books show we are not making enough to cover the place, especially when you are single handedly drinking us dry.”
Mitch sat back and let the bottle dangle from his fingers. “I am not drinking that much...”
“I will not argue with you about it, Mitchell Frost. I tell you, we have no consistent patrons, which means no one is buying liquor and no one is hiring our girls. But at least once a week, you are taking your bride shopping to replace another broken chair or to buy more liquor that only you are enjoying. It has to stop.”
Mitch slapped the air as if to wipe away Rose’s concerns. “What else do you have to complain about?”
“Your bride.”
“She is no business of yours. “Mitch spat out his anger rising.
“Actually, she is, because you are clearly blind as a bat and heartless to boot. She has been here over a month now, God only knows why, and apparently she has actually fallen for your pitiful bitter ass. We all see it. She is clearly tired of being your wife only in public.”
“What of it? She knows her role here, and I have no interest in her! I have made no moves on her.”
“Bull! You might not want to admit it, but we have seen you sneak peeks at her. I have seen you stand outside her door in the middle of the night with your hand raised, just inches away from knocking on her door- no, don’t bother trying to deny it. Despite yourself, you care for her. At least a little.”
“So what if I do? She is my wife. If I wanted to go into her room that is no business at all...”
“Brother, if that has crossed your mind, then get on with it!”
Mitch leaned forward closer to Rose, “What do you mean?” his eyes flashing.
Rose met his glare and leaned in to match his glare with her own. “I mean, if you do not take your wife and love her as a man loves a woman, you are going to lose her like you lost...”
Mitch stood up so fast the chair tipped over behind him and threw his bottle into the corner where it smashed into tiny pieces. “Get out!!! NOW!” he yelled at Rose.
Rose turned red, but slowly stood up and stood toe to toe with Mitch.
“Paige is not the same as her. She is stronger. She is proud. She is stubborn. She is here because she felt like she made a commitment and needed to honor that; but now... Now, brother, Paige is here for you, and only you. A woman like her loves once in her life, but she is also not foolish enough to stay where her love is not returned.”