Author’s Note: This is a flash contribution to the historical romance event, Wine and Old Lace. It could probably fit in several categories but Romance is where it where it ended up. Sorry but there’s no sex in this one, it’s too short for a sex scene to really add anything to the story.

It’s set in a little mining town in Colorado during its gold and silver rushes of the late 1800’s. There are a few uncommon terms used in this story. A “wag-tail” and a “mab” are derogatory Old West terms for a prostitute, and having sex was called “pirooting”. The last unusual term is explained in the story.

Thanks to outofshadows, kimi1990 and blackrandl1958 for their beta reading and editing. They made this so much better! Ladies, my deepest thanks. Of course any errors are mine since I naturally have to mess with the story before I submit it!

Colorado Rockies – 1870’s

He watched her from the shadows as she sat at one of the saloon’s old wooden tables. The early morning rays of sunshine gave her an otherworldly glow as it revealed countless flakes of dust dancing in the air. Her long curly black hair was pulled back, and her worn skirt and blouse told of better days. Beside her was her traveling bag, stuffed full of those things she held most valuable. He knew she would soon be leaving, and it both broke his heart and gave him joy at the same time.

It warmed him that she’d finally be leaving, since her health depended on it. Still, it pained him knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to go with her. It was a journey she’d have to make without him. Both of them hoped and prayed he’d be able to join her soon.

In the meantime, he enjoyed watching her. He was trying to memorize every gesture, every nuance, every feature of her face.

She slowly scanned the once loud and bustling saloon. At this time of the morning it was as quiet as a church on Monday. She knew that later there would be signs of life, however, it would never come close to matching the saloon’s heyday just a couple of years back.

Now the saloon, along with the entire little town, was on its deathbed. Its patrons were drying up just as fast as the gold and silver mines in the area. Several years ago the town had boomed overnight, but now it was soon destined to be a bust, a ghost town. Its inhabitants had begun leaving a year before, and now the floodgates were open and people were leaving in droves.

She knew she should’ve left long ago when the town doctor had warned her, but moving to another state cost money, money she didn’t have. Even now, it was probably too late. The coughing spells were more frequent and much more severe. Even if she could get to Arizona, there was no guarantee it would help her condition.

She felt him before she saw him.

“Zachariah?” she whispered.

“I’m here,” he said gently as he stepped out of the shadows.

She smiled as she heard the love in his voice. She looked at him and her smile grew larger.

He was a shorter man. He was only a couple inches taller than her five-and-a-half-foot height. He was slight but muscular, a common attribute of miners. His full beard masked a contagious smile, and his oversized hat hid his warm eyes. What made her heart warm was his attire, not what he was wearing, but what was missing.

He had donned the standard garb of the day. The heavy britches tucked inside the sturdy work boots, held up with suspenders and a simple woolen or cotton shirt. What was missing was the sweat stained clothes and the total covering of dust that marked a person who spent most of their life underground!

Simply stated ... he’d cleaned up for her departure.

“We’re you spying on me?” she said grinning.

“Of course,” he softly chuckled “I always love looking at you.”

She snorted and slowly shook her head. She was very much aware of her appearance. It was a natural extension of her profession. She knew she had an average face and that her body, which had once been considered lush, was now sagging and soft. She was aging much faster than her thirty-four years of age. Her lifestyle had taken its toll on her body and soul.

Still, men desired her. Her large breasts called out to them like a beacon in the night. Her easy laugh and quick smile still afforded her a living. There was little extra money nowadays but she never went hungry. She thought back to the wave upon wave of faceless men she’d entertained over the past twenty years.

It wasn’t the life she’d have chosen for herself. When she was growing up she’d dreamed of seeing the world. Those were dreams of a young girl who was stuck cleaning and working in her aunt’s boardinghouse. The music and life of the local saloon had always called her and when she’d grown, and developed, she’d gotten a job there.

The nightly noise and laughter had quickly seduced her and she was certain she’d found her new home. She loved the attention she’d received from the men there. Her breasts had developed early, and she was quite well endowed even before her eighteenth year. Her job was to flirt, wait on, and encourage the patrons to drink more. She wasn’t expected to sleep with the patrons; however, she had gone upstairs with more than a few.

One young man had been particularly enamored by her charms and she’d had feelings for him, as well. He came from a mildly influential family who were appalled at their romance. They quickly dashed any dreams she’d had of becoming a respectable lady. Unfortunately, her suitor wouldn’t give up and one night found her in the lap of a customer. The customer was an older, rougher man with a reputation of being violent. Abby hadn’t cared for the man, but he was still a patron.

Her young lover became jealous and attacked him. The man stabbed him and then fled. Abby held her young man in her arms as he died there on the saloon floor. His family was enraged and blamed the saloon and Beth. She was fired the next day and run out of town.

Heartbroken and angry, she’d drifted west, working in saloons as she went. Each one seemed to be of lower and lower class, and their expectations of taking care of customers led to more and more nights of loveless sex. By the time she’s reached Dodge City, she was more prostitute than saloon girl.

She’d completely given in to her fate when she joined a troupe of women who followed the miners from boomtown to boomtown when gold was discovered in the Colorado Rockies. The money was very good when the gold was flowing, and very poor when the mines played out. The living conditions, the constant battle of diseases and the continuous emotional bleeding of a woman’s soul usually led to a very early grave. Beth realized she was both blessed and cursed to have survived for many years longer than most of the girls she’d known.

Then two years ago, he’d entered her life and things changed.

“I’ve never understood why, Zach,” she softly. “I thank the heavens every night you chose me, but there were several of the girls that were younger and prettier than me. Any one of them would’ve been happy to take you to their bed and show you a good time.

“Why you wasted your coin on me was a mystery. You’ve could’ve had so much better than a used up old mab!”

“Stop right there, woman!” he growled.

She was taken back when saw his usually warm gentle brown eyes flash. He was always the quiet reserved fellow, but the anger she now saw let her know she’d gone too far. Panicking she tried to make amends.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me,” she said quickly as her eyes filled with tears.

His anger melted off of him like snow off a branch in the early-Spring sunshine. His eyes began to brim with tears as he saw her begin to cry.

“Elizabeth, please. I’m sorry, too. Of course you’re forgiven. It’s just hard for me to hear you speak that way. It’s as if you believe I’ve wasted all my love on some worthless wag-tail. Do you believe I’ve wasted the last two years of my life loving you?”