unable to free herself from the propelling force driving her into the tunnel.
In the darkness of the passage, he reached out and grabbed her hand. A gale like the intense sucking force in a wind tunnel swept them both forward. Caught in a whipping, swirling hurricane, they clung to each other as they traveled through the passage.
A split second? An eternity? Della never knew. Flashes of bright lights. The brilliant hues of rampant flowers. Almost imperceptibly, the dank smell of the tunnel was replaced by a sweet floral perfume. A kaleidoscope of colors blinded her with stabbing intensity. The wind died and Della felt the ground beneath them level out.
They clung to each other. When they regained their balance and could see again, they were standing in the foyer of Maude’s Pleasure House on Market Street, dressed in the fashions of the 1880s.
Chapter 3
T he bordello blazed with lights. Fiddle and piano music, crescendos of laughter and the din of high-pitched voices floated out into a center hall from several arched doorways. Della’s throat tightened and the palms of her hands beaded with hot sweat. The same kind of women she had seen wandering around her hotel paraded up and down the staircase on the arms of purposeful-looking men. They were not vague and shadowy figures but horribly real.
Even as Della fought against the reality that bombarded her senses, a plump woman in her forties with a homely face, sharp nose and double chins paused at the top of a center staircase. She rested one bejeweled hand on the polished banister and looked down at Colin and Della as if she could reduce them to dust with one wave of her gnarled hand.
Della stared in disbelief. Rounded hips and full breasts stretched the fabric of her low-cut gown. An elaborate twist of false red hair held in place on top of her head by feathers and jeweled pins added to her height. Her complexion was sallow even with rouge and powder and there was a hawklike sharpness to her gray eyes, cold and impaling. She had nostrils that flared and a mouth that showed large ugly teeth. Della wanted to turn and run but her legs wouldn’t move.
The woman lifted the train of her deep blue taffeta gown, came down the steps and crossed a wide entrance hall to the foyer where they stood. The reek of cheap perfume touched Della’s nostrils with familiarity.
“I’m Maude Mullen,” she said in a guttural voice. “It’s about time somebody answered my ad.” She eyed Colin up and down like someone judging horse-flesh. “The job is part-time handyman and bouncer. Pay is a dollar a day. Be on the job by ten in the morning and at the bar by seven in the evening, except on Sunday. You keep your hands off the merchandise. Got it? Well, do you want the job or not?”
Colin hesitated for a moment and then nodded. He didn’t know what else to do. The woman had obviously mistaken him for someone else. He could use the precious time to figure out what in the hell was going on.
Maude turned her sharp calculating eyes on Della. “As for you. Not much to look at…too thin. But that don’t matter. Vinetta Gray was with me for twenty years. Best damn bookkeeper I ever saw. Kept the cleanest set of books on Market Street. You do the same…or else—got me? Any juggling with the numbers, I’ll know it. I don’t tolerate liars or cheats.” Her nostrils quivered and she set her painted lips in an ugly line. “If I find you’ve been less than honest with me, you’ll wish you never set foot in this place.”
Della opened her mouth but Colin put his hand on her elbow and gave it a warning squeeze. Don’t say anything.
She wanted to argue with him. They were making a mistake, she was certain of it. Surely it would be better to tell this madam that they weren’t the people she thought they were. Every minute they carried on the horrible charade, they could be sinking deeper and deeper into some incomprehensible horror. Della’s chest was so tight, she couldn’t breathe.
“Names?” Maude demanded.
“Colin…and Della,” he answered evenly. His composed expression sent a prickling of fear down Della’s back. Why was he acting as if this were some normal introduction instead of a hideous nightmare?
“You got last names?”
“It’s Miss Arnell and Mr. Colin,” he lied.
“All right, I’ll give you two a try.” The woman’s stabbing glare shot from Colin to Della. “If you’ve got something to say, spill it now. I run the best house this side of St. Louis. Three drawing rooms, an evening buffet, beer at a dollar a draw and five dollars for a split of champagne. Eighteen rooms, and my share is half the take. The last two years, 1886 and ’87, were pretty good. Too early to tell what ’88 will be. The damn self-righteous citizens of Denver are on the warpath.” Her sharp eyes went from Della to Colin. “You two sharing the sheets?”
“No,” said Colin evenly. “We just…arrived together.”
“All right. You can have Vinetta’s old room,” she told Della. “And, Mr. Colin, get yourself a room at the boardinghouse next door. Just remember, if you two want to stay, you follow the rules of the house just like everybody else.”
Della didn’t want to stay. She wanted the bizarre illusion to end. Every ounce of her common sense rejected the unbelievable situation. They couldn’t really be here…caught in a malicious time warp that had sent them back over a hundred years. In a minute, the spell would be over. Everything would be back to normal.
Colin was saying something to the woman but Della didn’t hear the words. Her mind refused to work. Immobilized from shock, she stared at the madam who was treating her like a newly hired bookkeeper. She wanted to laugh and had to clamp her mouth shut to keep the hysterical laughter at bay. She closed her eyes for a moment and prayed that when she opened them, everything would have returned to normal.
“You look puny to me, Della. I don’t want some sickly gal on my hands.” Maude glared at her. “I got a house to run. I need to know exactly how much money’s coming in and going out on a nightly basis. I got plenty of expenses. The girls pay room and board but my grocery bill looks like I’m running the Brown Palace. I need a good bookkeeper.” She scowled. “I’m not handing out any charity. You’ll either do the job or you’ll be out in the street on your scrawny behind. Understand?”
Della managed to nod.
Maude snorted. “Well, I’ll know soon enough if you can add two and two.” She gave a jerk of her head. “Come on back to my office, both of you. You can start work tomorrow.”
Della held back. Her eyes widened in panic. We can’t stay here.
Colin bent his dark head close to hers. “We have to play along until this whole thing makes some sense.”
“And what if it never makes sense?” she protested in a desperate whisper. Was it possible? Transported back in time to the turn of the century? Set down in the middle of Denver’s red-light district? “We have to go…before we get trapped.”
His face shadowed. “We’re already trapped.”
The cold finality of his words shattered something deep within her. He was a stranger, dressed in a black double-breasted waistcoat and trousers, white shirt with a stiff white collar, a soft gray tie looped at the neck and even a gold pocket-watch chain stretched across his waist. It disarmed her to see that his dark handsome looks were in harmony with their surroundings as if born to them.
“We have to find the tunnel!” A new edge of panic made her
