Prisoners of Love: Cinnamon: Prisoners of Love, #2

By Callie Hutton

This book is 100% created by the author. No AI was used.
 

In 1877 saloon girl, Cinnamon O'Brien, sits in Dodge City jail with three other women charged with various crimes. Her charges, of course, are totally unfair since she only hit the mayor over the head with the pitcher of beer because he grabbed her lady parts. Now the marshal gives the four women a choice: join up with the wagon train in Fort Dodge and head to Santa Fe as a mail order bride, or when the judge sobers up, he'll be so ornery he'll probably sent them to the state prison.

Before they even leave, childhood friend, Jedediah Nelson, newly ordained preacher headed to Santa Fe, and in need of a wife, proposes to Cinnamon. A preacher and a saloon girl? She's about to give him a wild ride.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Callie Hutton
• Release date: Jul 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393994336

Callie Hutton

USA Today bestselling author, Callie Hutton, who has penned more than sixty historical romance, romantic suspense, and cozy mystery books, writes humorous and captivating Regency with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). With a million novels sold and translated into several languages, she continues to entrance readers with her heartfelt historical romances and mysteries. Her Victorian cozy mystery book, The Sign of Death was a finalist in the Simon and Schuster Mary Higgins Clark award in 2022.   You can find all of Callie’s books here:  https://calliehutton.com/ If you would like to stay in touch and hear about new releases, sales, recipes and a monthly Reader Appreciation giveaway, sign up for Callie’s newsletter here and receive a free book: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/cp2dlnqahe .

Book preview

Chapter 1

Dodge City, Kansas

April, 1877

Cinnamon O’Brien, better known as Mindy, the whore’s kid, bent to place a pitcher of beer on a table with three rowdy cowboys attempting to drink themselves into a coma. It wasn’t even noon on Saturday, and a new bunch of cattlemen had arrived, along with the buffalo hunters, railroad workers, drifters, and soldiers. All of them drinking, swearing, and wearing out the girls who hauled one man after another upstairs.

A sweaty hand landed on her leg, and slowly made its way up her dress, until it cupped her bottom and squeezed. Mindy jerked and turned, anger flooding her at the laughter and lewd remarks coming from the table next to her. Giving her a lopsided smile, Mayor Stumpy Gardner continued to pat and rub her more private parts. What do you say, Mindy? Wanna make some extra money and take a few of us upstairs?

She stepped away from the man and fisted her hands at her side. Get your filthy hands off me. Mayor or not, you have no right to touch me.

Ah, come on, now little lady. You can’t tell me your ma ain’t given you lessons on how to please a man.

More laughter and stomping. Another man called out, Come on, sweetheart. We got the money, and I’m tired of waiting for my turn to go upstairs.

The mayor reached for her again. I said get your hands off me, she growled.

The man leered at her and continued to squeeze and rub. Mindy leaned across the table, picked up the pitcher of beer she’d just delivered, and giving it all her might, she swung it at the mayor, hitting him over the head, with a loud thunk. His eyes bulging in his face, he grabbed his head, foamy beer running down his eyes, nose, and face to drip from his chin onto his rotund belly. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slowly slumped to the floor with a loud crash that stopped all noise in the saloon.

Aw shit, I’ve gone and killed the mayor!

Good. The lecher deserved it.

The stunned silence soon ended with more yelling and shouting. Someone hollered to get the doctor, and another man grabbed her and pulled her hands behind her back. Go git the marshal. This here woman is a murderer.

Mindy tried to pull away, but the man holding her was having none of it. Within minutes the doctor—who had been playing cards next door—and the marshal—who was buttoning up his pants, stomped into the room, looking none too happy for having been disturbed. Dr. Benson bent over the prostrate man and began to feel his head. Marshal Dane Jones took Mindy by the arm. What the hell did you go and do now, girl? Did you kill that man?

Nah, he ain’t dead, the doctor said. She knocked him out cold, though.

Let’s go. The marshal marched her out of the saloon. If you’re here when ole Stumpy wakes up, he’s gonna be tearing after you.

Where you taking me? Mindy was a bit breathless trying to keep up with the marshal’s strides as he dragged her down the boardwalk.

Jail. He hustled her past all the other saloons doing a raucous business. Two men flew through the batwing doors of the Golden Buck, rolling on the boards, punching each other until they almost knocked her and the marshal over.

Marshal Jones dropped Mindy’s arm and walked to the horse trough. Picking up a bucket sitting alongside it, he scooped out water and dumped it on the two men. They sputtered and shouted. The marshal took Mindy’s arm again and went on his way. Two bit cowboys, he mumbled as they arrived at the front door of the jail. Goddamn, I hate Saturdays. It’s only gonna get worse as the day goes on.

One of the town’s deputy marshals, Terry Perkins, leaned back against the wall, his chair braced on two legs, his crossed ankles resting on the desk. His hat was pulled over his eyes, and it was obvious from the sounds coming from underneath the hat that he was enjoying a nap.

Dane kicked the chair legs out from under him, spilling the man onto the floor. What the hell? He jumped up and went for the gun in the holster strapped to his thigh.

Put that thing away before you shoot your fool head off. Dane glowered at his deputy. The town ain’t paying you to sleep. You’re supposed to be watching the prisoners.

There ain’t nothing to watch. All you have back there are three women who spend most of their time crying.

Yeah, well now we have four women. He all but dragged Mindy to the back of the room where, sure enough, three women sat in a cell. He pulled the key from the ring on a hook by the jail cell and opened the door. Y’all have a new cellmate. He shoved Mindy in and locked the door.

How long do I have to stay in here? Mindy rubbed her arm.

Till I’m good and ready to let you out. And with how mad the mayor’s going to be when he wakes up, you best be settling in that cell. It won’t be healthy for you to be traipsing around town, I can tell you that much. With that statement, he turned and headed back to the front area. Don’t fall asleep again, Perkins. This is Saturday, and I got my hands full.

Yes sir, the deputy mumbled. Then in a show of force, he added with a raised voice, Hey y’all back there. Y’all better settle down and stop all that caterwauling. I ain’t listening to no more women bawling. With that, he took his seat once more, and Marshal Jones stomped out the door, slamming it shut, rattling the windows.

Mindy plunked down on one of the cots shared by another woman. She looked over at her. What are you in for?

Vagrancy.

She frowned. What’s that?

Having no job, no home, and no money.

Well, hell, if you ain’t got a job, then there ain’t no way to have a home or money. She adjusted the straps on her dress and tugged the neckline up. My name’s Cinnamon O’Brien. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll call me Mindy. What’s yours?

Adelaide Markham.

You look like what my ma calls a ‘good, God-fearing woman.’ How’d you end up with nothing?

The woman cleared her throat. My husband and little girl died of influenza. Gerald was a gunsmith, and since I didn’t know the first thing about guns, I couldn’t keep his business going.

No family?

I’m an only child and my parents drowned right after Gerald and I were married. Their buggy went over the side of a bridge during a rainstorm.

Mindy reached out and touched her hand. I’m so sorry, girl. You’ve had it hard, haven’t you?

Fighting the tears once again, Adelaide merely nodded. I left my house and came to Dodge City. I got a job as a waitress, but having no experience, I didn’t last long. When I got fired I started living in an abandoned building. The owner told me I could stay if I um . . . ‘warmed his bed’ as he put it. When I refused, he had the marshal arrest me for trespassing. He said he would drop the charges if I reconsidered.

Damn men. Most of them are good for nothin’. Mindy looked over at the two other women sitting on the small cot against the opposite wall, watching the exchange. What are y’all in for?

The brunette shrugged. I worked with Doctor Snodgrass, selling medicine out of his wagon. I thought it was real good stuff. But it turns out it was just water he colored with beet juice. He skipped town and left me here. People filed complaints, so the marshal arrested me. I don’t know why, since I never got any of the money. Dr. Snodgrass took it all.

Damn men. You can’t trust any of them. What’s your name?

Becky Davidson.

Mindy gestured with her chin to the other woman. What’s your story?

For a full minute the girl just stared at them. Finally, she wrapped her arms around her middle and whispered, I killed a man.

The three women stared at her for a minute. Well, lordy be, I almost did that myself today. Mindy leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms. I am so sick of this town. I can’t abide it much longer.

Why were you arrested? Adelaide asked.

Mindy crossed her legs, swinging her foot back and forth. I work over at the Lady Gay Saloon. She narrowed her eyes when Adelaide lifted her chin. Don’t you look at me like that. I ain’t no whore. I just serve drinks.

Adelaide nodded for her to continue.

Anyway this fat old geezer kept trying to put his hand up my dress. And he’s the mayor! Can you believe that? Anyway, I hit him over the head with a pitcher of beer. Knocked him out cold.

Is he dead? Adelaide wanted to know.

Nah. His head is too hard. She grinned. But really, I think I probably lost my job. The boss don’t take too kindly to the girls knocking men out.

What will you do if you’ve lost your job?

Mindy shrugged. I have no idea. One thing I do know, is I ain’t about to do what my ma spent her life doing.

What’s that? Adelaide asked.

Mindy shrugged and once again pulled up the neckline of the red and black taffeta saloon outfit. Whorin’

Jedidiah Nelson stood before the panel of elders who would decide if he measured up to be sent to a church in Trinidad, Colorado, that was in need of a pastor. Jed, as he was known to his family and friends, had recently finished his training and was ready to carry the Word of God to the needy in the wilds of Colorado.

Elder Parker took off his spectacles and rubbed them with a handkerchief, giving Jed a piercing stare. "Young man, your record looks impressive. We all know your