Black Water Born - Excerpt 2

A horse and carriage bustled past him, and a man wearing a long brown coat with a fur collar yelled at Lucky. He seemed more like a spirit than a real man, his hand wildly whipping the reigns. "Outta my way!"

Lucky ignored him. He was out of the way. Was the man mad? Was the whole city mad? As it was, St. John’s wasn’t wearing well on him.

"Heya, fella."

Near the tavern, Lucky saw a young woman grinning his way. It must be close to eight o’clock. Was she lost?

She must be cold, too. Wearing a slip of a dress, and those shoes, stick heels, hardly enough material to cover a toe. "Your feet must be killin’ ya."

"They are," she said. "I’d sure like to be off them for a bit."

"You waitin’ for someone?"

She leaned against the brick wall. Bold smile. Lipstick, bright red. "Waitin’ to go to work, I suppose. I’ve got time, though. You wanna help me off my feet like a real hero?"

She moved her shoulders up and down in turn. "Live around here, do ya?"

Lucky eyed her closely. "Guess so."

"Then let’s have a visit. Be a little friendly."

"You want to come home with me?"

"That’s right, fella."

Lucky gestured to the stairs. "I live up there."

"In one a Bill’s rooms?" She seemed surprised to hear this.

He nodded and let her inside his room, rubbing his hands together. "There’s hardly any heat here, just a duct that’s supposed to give heat from the tavern," he explained. "But I think it gives more smoke."

She blew on her fingers. "Got a bit of Lady Luck?"

Lucky didn’t understand her reference.

She grinned. "Don’t drink? Well, you’re a real saint, now, ain’t cha?"

She patted the bed beside her. "Sit by me, fella."

"My name is Lucky."

She laughed. "Lucky? Don’t hide your name from me. I could care less." She patted the bed again. "C’mere, don't be shy."

He sat next to her. She sure wore a lot of perfume. He hadn’t met anyone quite like her before.

"You want to know my name?" she said.

He shrugged.

"Augusta," she announced. "So ya got a girl, Lucky?"

"Not anymore." He stared straight ahead, his hands resting on his knees. He didn’t want to talk about Helen; it was difficult enough just thinking about her.

She touched his hand. And then his leg. And then the inside of his thigh. "So, Lucky..."

Lucky didn’t move. "You’re drunk, you must be."

Lucky couldn’t make heads nor tails out of this girl. He shouldn’t have invited her back to his room. But then again, he hadn’t invited her. She’d invited herself.

"Ya got money?" she whispered close to his ear. And then her tongue was touching his neck. He felt it wet and spongy. "How much ya got, eh?"

Abruptly, he stood up. The floor creaked beneath his boots.

She sniffed. "Ain’t being very friendly, fella."

Lucky didn’t know what to say. He swallowed.

She stood on her wobbly heels and blew on her fingers again. The tip of her narrow nose was red. "Why don’t we have some fun, huh?"

"Have f-fun?"

"What I said, fella."

Lucky couldn’t believe it. This slip of a thing was offering herself to him? Good God in heaven and beyond! Then again, maybe he was making more of it, taking her the wrong way. But when she touched his waist, the tips of her nails scraping against him, all uncertainty was removed.

"You ain’t a city boy, are ya?" She lifted his hand, ran her long nails over the calluses there. "I can tell by your hands. You’re a hard worker. A real man. Logger?"

"Wood worker."

"So where’s your girl, Lucky? Why ain’t she here holding on to this big strong hand?"

Lucky withdrew his hand.

"Your girl make you feel good, Lucky?" She touched his lips. It was brazen, how she touched him.

"Hey fella, whatcha think?"

Lucky turned to face her. She met his eyes brazenly. Why would she want to do this? She didn’t know him from a hole in the ground.

Well, if she were offering...

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