I remember as a child, standing in front of the big plate window of old Mr. Hynman’s saloon and staring at the scene that played out before me. There were dancing girls everywhere and cowboys that the girls would give their full attention to until they disappeared behind the door next to the bar.
It hadn’t changed much today except for maybe the Colorado wind that seemed to blow angrily as if a spirit or two were guiding it. I stood outside looking in, but instead of staring as I had so many years ago, I stepped inside of the saloon. I needed a job and knew the saloon’s owner was always looking for new dancers. Only I knew they weren’t really dancers. They were mistresses of the night. Ladies in waiting and I was about to become one of them for the love of my soulmate.