Heather felt herself torn by curiosity and an instinctive sense of dismay. She’d been raised to think of saloons as dens of iniquity, where men gambled and caroused and drank to excess, where the women sold their bodies for money.

An uncomfortable thought prodded her as she shifted her gaze to the woman standing behind the bar. Wasn’t that what she herself had done in marrying Sloan? Sell herself for money? Fifteen hundred dollars to be precise….

The woman at the bar had upswept raven hair and large brown eyes, with a painted face that was pretty in a tawdry sort of way. She wore a garish red gown, whose black-fringed bodice was cut scandalously low, exposing much of her full breasts.

She broke into a smile at Caitlin’s appearance, showing a chipped front tooth. “Well, I’ll be…” Then her eyebrows shot up as she spied Heather.

Heather eyed her curiously in return. There were various unflattering names for females employed at saloons—fancy piece, soiled dove, woman of illrepute, prostitute … all of which seemed to fit this woman. The cheap scent of her perfume clouded the air.

Heather wondered if this was the woman who was reportedly such good friends with Sloan’s brother Jake. Keeping quiet, however, she followed Caitlin to the bar and allowed her to take the lead in the introductions.

“Heather, I’d like you to meet Della Perkins. Della, this is Heather McCord, Sloan’s new wife.”

Della nodded almost warily. “I know who you are, Miz McCord. I’ve seen you around town.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Heather murmured with a quiet smile meant to reassure.

“I don’t know that I can say the same. Isn’t every day we get such fine ladies to visit. Fact is, last time I can recall, it was a grievance committee set on running us girls out of town.” She glanced soberly at Caitlin. “You mind telling me what brings you here?”

“We’ve come to ask you a favor. You know Sloan’s campaigning for senator? Well, we want you to help get him elected.”

“Me?”

“You and your friends here,” Caitlin explained. “We suspect most of the cowboys will vote for Sloan, if they vote, but they’ll likely need encouragement to show up at the booths on election day. And the miners could use some persuasion in general if they’re to go against Quinn Lovell. We figured, who better to sway their opinions than you and the ladies who see them regularly?”

“Let me get this straight, you want me and the girls to sweet-talk the fellas who visit here and plant the notion in their thick heads that they go vote for Sloan?”

Heather gathered her courage to enter the conversation then. It was rather awkward to ask for help under these circumstances, but Caitlin had persisted. Who better to influence the men of the town than the women who slept with them?