Chapter 15

The following morning, the sun peeked through the dusty windows of ‘The Blossom’, bringing with it a glimmer of hope and a new day. Goldie, feeling the weight of their mission more than ever, decided to open the doors early, a sense of urgency pulsing through her veins. As Ben went to meet with Sly, she remained behind to manage the brothel, her mind racing with plans for the rebellion.

The bell above the door chimed, and in shuffled Mrs. Harriett Dotson, a stooped old woman with a face etched with lines of a hard life lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, sparkled with a sharpness that belied her seventy years. She made her way to the bar, her steps surprisingly steady despite the years of toil that had bent her back.

“Mrs. Dotson,” Goldie greeted her warmly, stepping out from the shadows of the staircase. “What brings you here so early?”

The old woman looked up, her eyes sharp despite the early light. “Heard you’ve been stirring up some trouble, Goldie,” she said, her voice as rough as the whiskey she favored. “And I reckon you might be able to lend a hand.”

Goldie’s interest was piqued. Mrs. Dotson had been a long-time resident of Lawless Ridge, and her knowledge of the town’s underbelly was second to none. “What kind of trouble?” she asked, her voice low and curious.

Mrs. Dotson leaned heavily on the bar, her eyes never leaving Goldie’s. “My Erick,” she said, her voice cracking with a mix of sadness and anger. “He’s been laid up in bed for nigh on six months now. Can’t work, can’t do a damn thing for himself.”

Goldie’s gaze softened as she approached the woman. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, her voice genuine. “What seems to be the problem?”

Mrs. Dotson took a deep breath, her eyes misting over. “It’s his lungs,” she said, her voice cracking. “The doctor says it’s from working in the mines. He can’t breathe, can’t hardly get out of bed some days.”

Goldie’s heart went out to the old woman, her own past with the mine’s harsh conditions not forgotten. She reached out and took Mrs. Dotson’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What do you need, Harriett?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Mrs. Dotson looked up at her, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes. “Well, I reckon Erick could use a bit of cheerin’ up,” she said, her voice a gravelly whisper. “He ain’t had much to smile about lately, and I thought maybe one of your girls could, you know, pay him a visit.”

Goldie’s eyebrows shot up. “A visit?” she repeated, her tone neutral. “What exactly do you mean, Mrs. Dotson?”

The old woman winked at her, a knowing look on her face. “You know, a bit of company,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Someone to ease his pain, make him feel like a man again.”

Goldie nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. It wasn’t just about the gold or the rebellion anymore; it was about the people of Lawless Ridge, about giving them a reason to fight for something better. “Three of us,” she said, her voice firm. “We’ll go together. It’s the least we can do for a fellow townsfolk in need.”

Mrs. Dotson’s expression softened, a hint of gratitude flitting across her features. “How much will it cost me?” she asked, her hand digging into the depths of her pocket, the clink of coins accompanying her words.

Goldie’s eyes narrowed, her mind racing with the implications of what Mrs. Dotson had just asked. “It’s not about the money,” she said firmly. “We’re not in the business of selling hope. We’re here to help.”

The old woman’s hand stilled, her expression one of surprise and gratitude. “Thank you, Goldie,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know there were folks like you left in this town.”

Goldie patted her hand gently. “We’re not like the others,” she assured her. “Now, go home and wait for us. We’ll prepare and come to your house. Tell Erick we’re bringing a surprise that’ll make him feel like a new man.”

Mrs. Dotson nodded, her eyes brimming with gratitude. “I will,” she murmured, her grip tightening around Goldie’s hand. “Thank you.”

Goldie watched her go, her thoughts racing. The situation with Erick was a stark reminder of the town’s struggles, and it only reinforced their need to act. As she turned to the stairs, she called for Beulah and Lois, their footsteps quickening as they descended to the main room.

“Girls,” she began, her voice serious. “We’ve got a new mission, and it’s one that hits close to home.” She explained Erick’s plight and the old woman’s request, her words met with solemn nods and steely glances.

Beulah spoke first, her eyes flashing with determination. “We’ll take care of him,” she said, her voice filled with a warmth that belied her tough exterior. “We’re in this together, and if we can bring a little joy to someone’s life, we should.”

Lois nodded in agreement, her lips set in a firm line. “We’ll do whatever it takes,” she said, her eyes shining with a fierce loyalty.

The three of them set to work, preparing themselves for the visit to Erick’s house. They chose their outfits with care, ensuring they were both alluring and comforting. They gathered small luxuries to bring with them – a bottle of wine, a bouquet of flowers picked from the small garden in the back, and a few pieces of gold to help with his medical expenses.

As they were about to leave, Ben walked in, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. “What’s this about a visit?” he asked, his eyes scanning their faces.

Goldie filled him in on Mrs. Dotson’s plea, and Ben’s eyes lit up with understanding. “We can’t let Erick suffer like this,” he said, his voice filled with resolve. “We’re fighting for the soul of this town, and that means looking after our own.”