Prisoners of Love: Nellie: Prisoners of Love, #5
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About this ebook
She has a past; He doesn't care.
Miss Nellie in the Prisoners of Love series is the former brothel owner who at the request of her long-time friend, Marshal Jones, chaperoned four young ladies on a wagon train trip from Dodge City to Santa Fe to be mail order brides. She's done her job, the girls are all happily married. Is it her turn now? Would anyone want a soiled dove? Then the newly retired Marshal of Dodge City arrives in Santa Fe.
Upon his arrival, Miss Nellie seems happy to see him, but can he convince her that he doesn't care what she was before; what matters to him is what he wants her to be now.
His.
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 .
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Titles in the series (5)
Prisoners of Love: Adelaide: Prisoners of Love, #1 Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Prisoners of Love: Cinnamon: Prisoners of Love, #2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPrisoners of Love: Becky: Prisoners of Love, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPrisoners of Love: Miranda: Prisoners of Love, #4 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPrisoners of Love: Nellie: Prisoners of Love, #5 Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
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Prisoners of Love - Callie Hutton
Chapter 1
April 1877
Dodge City, Kansas Territory
Marshal Dane Jones leaned back in the comfortable chair behind his desk, his feet crossed at the ankles and resting on a stack of papers sitting on the floor. It was the first few calm minutes of a typically hysterical day.
Dodge City, Kansas Territory was not a safe place to be in 1877. Hordes of cowboys hustling cattle along the Chisholm Trail brought money and trouble into the town on a regular basis. Because of the city's reputation, every sleazy, sharp-shooting, card-playing scoundrel found his way there.
He was pondering what the devil to do with the four women he had sitting in his jail cell. He rarely, if ever, had a female prisoner, and now he had four. There was no way in hell he could keep them locked up with the needs women had, but to toss them back out onto the streets was worse.
None of them had jobs or a decent place to live. The door to the jailhouse burst open and Miley Jackson, the young boy who ran errands for him slid through the door. Miss Nellie's place is on fire!
Nellie!
He raced out the door, stopping people along the way, asking if Miss Nellie was out of the burning building. No one seemed to know. They were more interested in the half naked 'ladies' racing from the brothel.
The building was in a bad way. From a distance it didn't appear as though the place would be standing when the fire finally burned out. As he chugged up to the structure, he let out a breath at the sight of Nellie standing by herself and watching the fire.
She turned when he approached her. It's not lookin' good, Marshal.
He shook his head. No. I tried to get a line of men to haul water to the building, but no one was as interested in putting out the fire as they were in watching your girls race around in their underthings. Are all the girls out?
With his job as marshal, he'd have to go into the brothel and search if there were missing girls.
Yes. I made sure they all made it from the building.
He draped his arm casually over her shoulder as the two of them watched the well-known brothel burn to the ground.
Damn shame. You have the cleanest girls and the least watered-down whiskey in town.
A young whore wrapped in a silk robe walked up to them. What are we gonna do now, Nellie? Where will we sleep tonight?
She shrugged. I guess the marshal here will have to put us all up in the jail.
I ain’t going to no jail,
the young girl huffed. Margie at The Palace is always looking for girls. I’m going there to see if she can take me in.
Me, too.
Two other whores joined the group, and before the last wall of the brothel had fallen in, all six of Nellie’s girls had left her standing there with the marshal.
Well, ain’t that the living end.
Nellie glared at their backs, her hands on her hips.
Don’t worry.
Dane tucked a lock of hair behind Nellie’s ear. Once you get a new place set up, they’ll come back.
No.
She sighed and shook her head. I’m too old to start over, Marshal.
Too old? Hell, woman, you’re no more than forty.
Nellie was not only still young looking for her line of work, but she was also a handsome woman with a fine figure who didn’t need all the face paint she used.
I’ve been in this business since I was fourteen. There are days I feel older than the Widow Charles, and she must be seventy if she’s a day.
Dane turned to her and gave her a slow smile, his mind working furiously. She could be the solution to a problem he’d been wrestling with all day. He continued to stare at her, the idea forming in his mind sounding better all the time.
Marshal, I don’t know why you’re staring at me like that, but it’s making me mighty nervous.
His grin grew wider. Nellie, how fond of this town are you?
She narrowed her eyes. Don’t make any difference to me where I plant my feet. In fact, Dodge City is getting too wild. Even for me. Why?
I have four young women sitting in my jail right now.
Four young women? In jail? Marshal Jones, are you crazy?
He hooked his thumbs in his gun belt and rocked back on his heels. Probably, but I think I’ve come up with a solution on how to get rid of them and help you at the same time.
Why do I think I’m not going to like this?
she groused as he took her by the elbow and hustled her in the direction of the jailhouse.
Chaperone?
Nellie laughed so loud that several of the crowd of onlookers turned in their direction.
Yes, chaperone. You said you didn't care if you stayed here or not. I have these young women I need to get rid of. I hear the men in Santa Fe are looking for wives and these gals would make four men very happy. They're all pleasant to look at and I can't keep 'em in jail or throw them out on the street.
Nellie came to an abrupt stop, forcing Dane to stop, her chin raising. I am a whore, Marshal, in case you forgot.
Dane's face grew red and there seemed to be steam coming from his ears. Do. Not. Say. That.
She was taken aback by his reaction. At one time in her life, she would have been ashamed to refer to herself that way, but for goodness’ sake, the marshal had known her for years. He knew what she did to earn a living. He'd even visited her brothel on occasion, although while she had still been receiving customers, he'd never asked for her services.
What I'm trying to say, Dane, is I don't think I would make a good chaperone for young girls.
Why not? You're certainly familiar with young women and all their,
he waved his hand around, needs.
They continued their walk to the jail in silence. Nellie began to shift from the horror of being a chaperone to liking the idea. She could wash all this blasted face paint off, plait her hair, and wear a gingham dress like all the other respectable ladies in town. No one in Santa Fe would know her as Miss Nellie from the brothel.
Her heart began pumping. A new start. A new life. She was only thirty-nine years old. There must be something in Santa Fe that was respectable that she could do to earn her living after her savings ran out.
Marshal, who's going to pay for this trip?
He opened the door to the jail to the sound of women yelling at the deputy in the front office. The man hopped up so quickly the chair slid across the floor, banging on the wall behind it. Damn, Marshal. Those gals are a noisy lot.
He raced for the door as if his pants were on fire.
They watched the man leave, then Dane turned to her. The town will pay for it. You'll need to buy a wagon, and cattle and supplies to get you there.
How the devil am I to find my way to Santa Fe?
No need. There’s a wagon train leaving from Fort Dodge in a couple days.
He marched to the back of the jail where four women sat glaring at him.
All right, ladies. I want your attention.
Dane stood in front of the steel bars that confined the four female prisoners. Mindy sat down and fluffed her lowcut red satin dress. A pretty girl, Nellie had known her since she'd been born. She always hated that her mother saw fit to raise her in the brothel where she worked, but in all fairness, there wasn't much else she could have done with the girl.
This here is Miz Nellie Ward,
Dane started. Until about an hour ago, she was the owner of one of the finest brothels in Dodge City.
He smiled at the woman and continued. The place burned to the ground and all her girls left to work for another house.
What the hell is this about, Marshal?
Mindy asked. If you think I’m going to work for Nellie you’re crazy.
She nodded at the woman. No offense, Nellie. It’s just that I ain’t got a hankering for spending my time flat on my back. That about killed my mama.
None taken,
Nellie said, her lips twitching.
Although that’s not why Nellie is here, missy, you might not be so quick to dismiss a job,
the marshal said. Stuart stopped me on the way over here so I could tell you to turn in your dress ’cause you’ve been fired.
Well, hell. Ain’t that like a man? Takes the mayor’s side in this, without even hearing what really happened.
Forget it, girl. What I have to say to you—
his eyes swept over the other three women behind bars. All of you—is I have a proposal.
He paused, making sure he had all their attention. Nellie’s place burned down, and she has nowhere to go. All of you are a burr under my saddle. I can’t have women in my jail, but none of you have a job or a place to stay.
He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair.
So, this is the deal. There’s a wagon train right now at Fort Dodge from Independence that’s headed to Santa Fe, New Mexico territory. Now I happen to know there are plenty of men down that way looking for wives.
One of the women gasped. Marshal, surely you’re not suggesting . . .
Yes, ma’am, I am suggesting. You gals will either get on that wagon train with Nellie here as your chaperone or wait until the circuit judge comes around when he sobers up. He’ll be so blasted hung over, he’s liable to send y’all off to the state prison.
That’s outrageous. You can’t force us to marry strangers.
Another young, pretty girl clutched the cell bars, her knuckles white.
"No, ma’am, you’re probably right. I can’t do