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A Contract For Ethan (standard:westerns, 19937 words)
Author: MikeKAdded: May 02 2016Views/Reads: 458/249Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Molly was a whore. Orphaned from birth, what chance did she have? But there is a fire that burns in some people, an unquenchable flame, and that she had. She couldn't know that liberation would only require a train ride of one hundred and forty miles -- t

A Contract For Ethan 

Michael Kahmann 

Copyright © 2016 by Michael Kahmann. All rights reserved. ISBN


Molly Hester never knew who her parents were. Her earliest recollections
were of the orphanage where she lived until she ran away for good when 
she was fifteen. She had run away several times only to be brought 
back, but at fifteen they didn't want her. She was always a 
troublemaker, and with her freckles and red hair which was mostly never 
combed she scared the younger kids and was a constant target for the 
older ones. She got beat up all the time but there was something in her 
that would never let her give up. Had she been at all attractive the 
older boys would have helped her, but with her gangly stick shape and 
wildcat demeanor they left her alone. 

She found a home of sorts when a street-kid named Brent took her to the
House, a place where young girls with no prospects were bought, sold, 
and traded. He got some kind of finder's fee. They discovered that 
Molly, who had never had anything of her own, was one hell of a worker. 
For a full belly and clean sheets she could out-work anyone there. What 
no one could have predicted, including Molly, was how attractive she 
became. At eighteen she was easily the best looking of any of the girls 
in the younger group. She had put on a slight amount of weight in all 
the right places, softening her more angular features. She no longer 
had to clean and scrub but only needed to ply the trade for which the 
House was famous. She learned how to handle the different clients, 
those that needed a mommy and a shoulder to cry on and those that 
needed careful watching, like the mean or crazy drunks. And unlike most 
of the girls in the House, she never took to the drinking or the drugs 
that ruined so many of them. 

Molly didn't know from any first hand experience how the trade she plied
was viewed by most of the citizens of that frontier town. She was 
surviving and after a while prospering. She knew it was her looks that 
she traded on and she resolved to preserve them as long as possible 
while she tried to prepare for what came next. She had a lot of time to 
herself in the early afternoons and tried to educate herself. She 
became a voracious reader and discovered what a lucrative advantage 
this could be amongst her wealthier clients. At great peril to herself 
she squirreled away some of the larger tips she got in a secret bank 
account which a client had shown her how to set up. 

She considered herself lucky that she hadn't had to work the line
herself for several years and only had to keep the girls in some kind 
of order. She had been given a small part of the action by Lew, the 
previous owner of the House, but when he lost it to Big Jim McCarty 
over some gambling debt, things changed for the worse. When she 
carefully approached Big Jim on the subject of her share of the 
business, he gave her to understand that Lew had gambled away her part 
and she was only of use to him as long as she could take care of the 
girls or work the line. Now Big Jim McCarty was a fearsome creature by 
any standard. He stood an honest six foot six and carried a hefty three 
hundred and twenty pounds. He knew the effect his appearance had on 
people and he used it to great advantage. He fancied himself a gambler 
but intimidation was his real strength. Like her, he came from the 
street, but he was far from having any manners or hygiene. Molly found 
him to be quite disgusting but like most sane people she would not make 
that an issue to his face. 

Even with all that, there was only one aspect of her daily existence
that kept her in constant fear for her life. She protected the girls as 
best she could but some of the clients she had to interact with were 
extremely dangerous. These were men who by their nature gravitated to 
the wildness and lawlessness of the frontier. She had been beaten a few 
times rather badly. Several times she had been threatened by men she 
knew were not bluffing. It was not in her nature to ignore these 
situations, not with her fiery temper. She could be soft and demure to 
gain advantage but when threatened she could explode. Hence the little 
knit handbag that she always kept with her. In it she carried the three 
things most precious to her: a bank book, a little German-made straight 

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