Five Whores for Denver

Hence, it was easy for me to say, with absolute certainty, "You will never regret loving me. That I swear on my grave."

*****

The new town of Denver lay at the confluence of Cherry Creek and the South Platte River. It was mostly tents when we arrived.

There had originally been gold in the creek. But the truly rich deposits lay in the mountains to the west. Still, all the supplies and mining equipment had to come from somewhere and Denver was the terminus of the Pike's Peak Express. That was the only supply service from the east. And so, it was commerce, not mining, that had turned Denver into a boom town.

Of course, no boom town could consider itself "civilized" unless it had a high-class whorehouse. Fittingly, May was called on to deliver that essential service. She, in turn, had sent her protégé to set things up. That was why Aimee and I were there.

After our adventure with Abigail and the Indians, we had taken our time getting back to Denver. The reason it took so long was that we couldn't get enough of each other. So, we lingered a lot on convenient creek banks and grassy spots. We also needed to work out the details of our evolving relationship.

Oddly enough, Aimee was the inexperienced one. I had been married. I knew how to be with somebody. Aimee had never had anything but a brief furtive affair, a brutal quasi-marriage and customers. So, she had to get used to life in a close and loving bond.

It was difficult at first, For instance, Aimee wasn't used to waking up being cuddled. The first time that happened she jumped to her feet, startled. She also got nervous when I did nice things for her. It was like she suspected ulterior motives. And she apologized far too much. She would even tell me she was sorry if she got too wild during sex.

Her behavior was easy to understand. I knew that I was totally committed to her. But she didn't know that. She had been mistreated her entire life. Now she'd staked her soul on the hope that I was different. And she had everything to lose if I turned out to be just like every other man.

So, we'd talk whenever one of the ghosts from her past reared its ugly head. Ultimately, each of those shades was laid to rest. It was touching really, watching Aimee slowly come to trust me. And for my part, those discussions convinced me that she would die rather than betray me. Which of course, was somewhat credulous given her former profession.

Still, I was more convinced of Aimee's fidelity than I would have ever been with an ordinary woman. Aimee had survived the worst life had to offer. So, she understood the value of her present situation, and she made no assumptions about its permanence. That fact, more than anything else, cemented my belief in our long-term prospects.

We got back to discover that Pat and Aphrodite had been busy. May had bought a prime plat downtown and our two friends already had a big tent set up: doing a land-office business. The frame of the permanent structure was laid out behind it and construction was a beehive of activity, since there were plenty of miners who needed a grubstake.

I drifted down to the Pike's Peak offices, while Aimee and Pat oversaw the building. I had a plan that I wanted to set in motion. It was the first fruit of an agreement that Aimee and I had reached. She was still the manager of the best little whorehouse in Denver. But we were eager to get married. So, I had to find a way to support us.

My ace-in-the-hole was the stake that I had left over from my last whaling voyage. Was that only three years ago?

At any rate, it was sufficient to set me up to fleece the thousands of fools rushing to make their fortunes in the gold fields. In fact, in many ways mining supply was as immoral as my soon-to-be spouse's former profession, and it was considerably more lucrative.

I made an agreement with the manager at the express office. For a small percent of the profit, he would ship in the goods. Then I would sell them at twenty times the price. Our arrangement would make us both rich.

For her part, Aimee had hated being part of May's stable. But she had learned the trade inside and out and she was an astute businesswoman. So, she had pledged to oversee the burgeoning cathouse; until Aphrodite felt confident enough to replace her.

She told me that it was a male fantasy that the women enjoyed the sex they were selling. She called it dirty and demeaning. But on the other hand, it was necessary to survive. I recalled that she had told me that very same thing the first day we met.

We lived in a small tent next to the big one. By day, I worked in my supply business. Then I spent every night hanging around in the main tent, tending bar with Pat and providing a deterrent to any rowdy miners.

Initially, Aimee had a problem with my presence. I finally took her aside and said, "Do you love me?" Her odd violet eyes flamed with intensity. She said, "How could you ask me a question like that, when you hold my very soul in the palm of your hand."

I said, "Then why are you acting so standoffish? You're supposed to be the proprietor of this place, not the local Women's Christian representative."

She looked at me quizzically and said, "I was??!!" I laughed and said, "It's like you're here to stamp out the sin of prostitution."

She said appalled, "Seriously??!! Oh Lordy!!"

I took her exquisite little pointed chin between my two fingers, tilted her head up so she was looking directly into my eyes and said lovingly, "I have no doubt that your heart is utterly mine. I also know you would never betray that love. So, go back in there and be your usual stunningly sexual self."

Then I added stone faced, "Just don't disappear into the back to fuck any of the customers." Aimee looked horror stricken. Then she saw my face melting into a laugh. She made an exasperated sound, slugged me on the arm, and returned to the evening's trade. We had no problem with customer satisfaction after that.

I was there every night. So, I would have known if Aimee had ever dabbled in her former calling. She, for her part, was almost pathologically wary of even going near the back of the tent. It was hilarious really, watching her pussy footing around the hosting duties. And of course; she killed me with kindness every night.

Aimee and I were married on the twenty first of July, eighteen hundred and sixty-one. That was a date made significant by more than our wedding. It was the date of the first battle of Bull Run.

It was no doubt inevitable that the people back east would fight a war over slavery. But it was still a surprise when the two parts of the country transitioned from inflamed rhetoric to actually shooting at each other.

It didn't affect the people out west in the slightest. The supplies continued to flow, because money was to be made. The miners still brought their gold down and the fellows who didn't want to fight for either side had all developed an interest in visiting us.

So, we had the likes of Henry James, Mark Twain and William Dean Howells pass through our doors, even adventurers like Bill Cody.

By that point, we had gotten a fancy bordello built and Aphrodite had taken over Aimee's role as the madam. Aimee, for her part, turned her firm hand and astute business sense to running the supply operation. And thanks to her we were making money hand-over-fist.

*****

One bright and shining summer morning I walked into the store to find my wife sociably chatting with an Indian maiden. That was such an odd sight that I nearly spilled my coffee. Then the Indian turned to face me, and I dropped the cup. It was Abigail!! And she had prospered.

Abigail still had her pretty face, which was smiling in greeting. Her china-blue southern belle eyes were calm and peaceful, and she looked happy. The old Abigail had been nervous, pail and a bit chubby. The woman in front of me was rawhide, clearly tough and in charge.

Aimee knew that Abigail's appearance would surprise me. So, she quickly added, "Abigail has some news for us dear." It is something you'll want to hear."

Abigail said cordially, "It's good to see you Jacob. You were always kind to me, even though I wasn't in my right mind most of the time. Now I'd like to do you a favor." She opened her hand to reveal an odd grey rock that clearly had a gold seam in it.

She said, "Some of the men found this. We have no need for this devil's material. But we know that you whites put much value on it."

I thought, "We whites??!! Doesn't she recall that she's a former lily-white planter's daughter?"

Abigail continued with, "I will show you where we found it. I believe it will be something that you and my sister can use."

It sorta made sense. Abigail and Aimee were in fact half-sisters. And Abigail had voluntarily followed Aimee when she was sold to May. Even after that, we had pursued Abigail after she was abducted and honored her wish to stay with her abductors.

So, there was a deep connection. Perhaps Abigail was leading us to something more than just a single nugget of gold. Hence, I saddled a mule, kissed Aimee goodbye and followed Abigail, or "Heron-Woman" as she now preferred to be called, out of town.

The same two Indian men were waiting for us, up the trail. We proceeded west in the general direction of the Clear Creek canyon. There was a lot of gold mining going on up there. But my guides turned and headed slightly north, and into the initial elevations of the front range.

We rode for several hours, until we reached a pine filled split in a sheer rock cliff. The day was getting hot. So, it was a relief when the man, who had actually been situated between Abigail's legs during our last encounter, dismounted and entered the cool shade of the gap between the rocks. It was perhaps thirty yards wide and full of ponderosas.

He walked a short distance and then pointed at the rock face and sure enough, there was a distinct gold seam in it. I used a little assayer's pick to knock off a chunk, nodded at him and we walked back to where Abigail and the other, ahem..."husband," were waiting.

Abigail said pensively, like she had been waiting a long time to say it, "That repays my debt to you two. You will never see me again. Rest assured, I am finally happy."

The three of them turned their ponies and trotted off. I watched them go. In her own way, Abigail had suffered like Aimee. I was glad she'd finally found peace.

I got back to Denver that evening and headed straight for the Assayer's Office. I wanted to find out just how lucky we were. The nuggets in my saddle bags looked relatively rich. So, it was clearly a claim I might want to stake.

The assay office in Denver was more than just a single guy at the back of a little shack, like it was in most of the gold towns. This one had the staff and equipment to do timely evaluations of the ore that was being brought down from the front range.

I wanted the assay done fast. So, I dropped it with the Head Assayer, who was an acquaintance of mine. Then, I went back to the sumptuous new house that we had built from the proceeds of our supply business.

Aimee was puttering in the kitchen. She said, vaguely interested, "Was there something there? Abigail was always overly melodramatic."

I said, "There was something. But I don't know what."

Then I added, "On the other hand, Abigail seems to have found her place in life?"

Aimee smiled and said, "Yes, she has two virile husbands and a child."

I added, to change THAT subject, "Well, I took what they showed me down to the assay office. We'll know tomorrow whether it's worth staking a claim."

*****

It was a warm and sunny Wednesday morning, as I strolled into the Head Assayer's Office. Seth was an older fellow. It was rumored that he had been a professor back east. That is, until he got caught fucking one of his students. Now he assayed rocks in the ass end of nowhere. Such are the wages of sin.

Anyhow, he was an affable guy; loved to talk like most of those overeducated fellows. He said, "You've got yourself a rich vein Jacob. But it's hard to get a firm estimate of how much gold since the rock that the gold is embedded in is pure silver."

Did he just say SILVER? The whole cliff face was made-up of that material!! Seth chattered on oblivious to my astounded reaction, " He was saying, "That happens a lot in this area. God must have been pretty irate when he formed our mountains because everything's melted together."

I said unbelieving, "You're telling me that the two samples are nothing but silver and gold?" Seth said, "Yep, it looks like you hit a mother lode, alright." I'd get down to the government claims office as fast as I could If I were you."

So, that's the story of how Aimee and I became unspeakably and somewhat undeservedly rich.

We registered the claim that very day, and we staked it that evening. Then I cut Pat in for a third of the profit, if he would help me get the ore out. He and Aphrodite already had two kids by that point, and they needed the money.

We made hasty arrangements for people to take care of the whorehouse and the supply store. Then, we rolled out of town in our faithful Conestoga headed for a camp near Clear Creek. We needed to vanish fast. Since Seth was bound to talk; and people got killed for a whole lot less.

The mining was relatively straightforward. The vein ran right down the side of the split in the rock face. So, we didn't have to do much digging. I was still in my twenties and as robust as ever. Pat was a hard worker and Aphrodite was stronger than he was. Aimee's main job was to discourage visitors. She did that with her Henry.

It was backbreaking. But we eventually pulled a little over twenty-million dollars' out of that claim. And in that respect; a couple of whores, a peripatetic Irishman, and an itinerant sailor did pretty well for themselves.

*****

There were a number of paths that our lives could have taken after that. But Aimee's and my direction was set by something that occurred one fine evening in April of the following year.

We were dining at Pell's Oyster House. I hear you say... Oysters?!! Denver is a thousand miles from the sea. How in the world could you be eating oysters? Well, the new Transcontinental railroad let suppliers ship those tasty little beasties in alive, in portable tanks. And so, oysters'd become all the rage in Denver. That is, if you could afford them, which we could.

Aimee causes a stir whenever she appears in public. She's just that extraordinarily beautiful. But she was particularly stunning tonight. She'd swept into the restaurant in a silk dress that was one shade lighter than the deep violet of her eyes. And while being entirely appropriate, it showcased every inch of her astonishing figure.

The place was crowded. But a fellow immediately caught my attention. He was sitting with a group of four men at a table against the wall. Denver had become quite the commercial hub once the Colorado Central hooked us to the Transcontinental Railroad at Cheyenne. And those guys were obviously, in town to drum up a little business.

The stranger gawked at Aimee. Then he said something excitedly to the group and they all turned to stare at her. Every other guy in the place was surreptitiously checking my wife out. So, it wasn't odd that she had the undivided attention of a table full of horny males. It was just that this group was being so blatant about it.

Then the man, who had originally noticed Aimee, pushed back and strolled toward us. He was clearly a salesman, dressed a little too flashy in a checkered suit and a derby hat. He had a wide, knowing grin plastered on his fat face.

We were sitting in intimate little alcove at the back. I always make sure that the maître-de seats us in the best spot. Under the gaslights, Aimee was a study in serene beauty. She had her back to the approaching man, so I tapped her on the hand and nodded behind her.

She turned and regarded him curiously. He seemed absolutely thrilled to see her. He said jovially, "Hello little lady. I wondered where you'd gone after you left New Orleans. I want to buy some of your special loving tonight. That is, once you've finished with this fella."

We were both a long way from May's, in both miles and personal history. But Aimee is indeed an unforgettable woman. And this guy was clearly a former customer!! Aimee gave me a panicked look. I returned a nod that said, "Let me handle this."

With that, the hurricane shutters slammed shut across my wife's eyes and she got that opaque expression that I knew so well; and utterly hated. It killed me to see how quickly she could disappear behind the forbidding walls of her psyche.

I stood and said in a tone that made it clear I wanted this fellow to go away, "You must be mistaken my good man. This is my wife."

He totally missed what I'd just said, because he was staring hungrily at Aimee. He said excitedly, "I've fucked a lot of whores. But you're the best. Where are you working honey?" Mercifully, he was facing into the alcove. So, only Aimee and I heard that.

I didn't want to create a fuss. So, I grabbed his arm, spun him and marched him out the door. He protested every step of the way. But his complaints fell on deaf ears.

This guy had no idea of the danger he was in. He saw a rich man, well-groomed and fashionably dressed. But we ALL have a past. It takes fearsome strength and utter ruthlessness to throw a thirty-pound whale-iron with sufficient force to kill a whale. More relevant, that primal ferocity lurks underneath my surface, like a river of molten lava.

This man's imprudent words had brought it ALL to the surface. So, I dragged him into the alley, picked him up and slammed him against the wall. The thunderous impact knocked the wind out of him. I was still holding him pinned against the wall, when he finally got his breath back. I said through gritted teeth, "You are going to die right here in this alley if you don't immediately go inside and apologize for your error."

He could see pure homicide in the flickering light of the gaslamps and he was shaking terrified. He nodded weakly. He had already pissed himself. I put him down very gently and brushed off the back of his suit coat, which had flecks of paint embedded in it. Then I silently gestured for him to proceed back to our table.

He walked straight up to Aimee, who was gazing at him with the hooded-eyes that I had seen so often in our trip west, and meekly said, "I apologize for my confusion madam. I can see now that you are a completely different woman."

Aimee smiled graciously and with considerable underlying significance, she said "I understand. People often misperceive me." Then he turned and scuttled away.

I looked eloquently at my wife and said, "Shall we return home my dear. I don't believe there is anything left for us here." She rose gracefully, offered her hand and said, "Yes, I've had more than enough."

On the way home she asked me, "What did you do to him out there? We felt the whole building rock." I said mildly, "I just explained the disastrous effects of bad eyesight and he accepted that observation."

Aimee gave me one of her cat-like smiles and proceeded to spend the rest of the night trying to kill her "Knight in Shining Armor."

*****

That incident made the choice for us. We had to get as far away as possible from Aimee's past. So, we would reinvent ourselves in the most populous city in America. Therefore, unlike most people of our time, we headed EAST to the fabled isle of Manhattan.

We bought a mansion off "millionaire's row," right next door to Pierpont Morgan's palatial manse. I'd struck up a friendship with JP while I was investing our gold and silver holdings. He was young then, not the old walrus you see in the pictures, and just getting started. So, he needed capital. Accordingly, ours was a partnership made in heaven.