Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) Read Online Free PDF

to be more
open-minded to what you have planned for me. Thank you for bringing Aunt Corrin
into my life. I think... I’m going to like her...” Before she had finished, she
drifted into slumber.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    As the obscurity of the night hours yielded to the
coolness of dawn’s first glow, Amelia found herself awakening to the melodic
songs of wrens outside her window, the newness of the crisp morning air, and a
certain excitement welling up from deep within. How long had it been since she
had actually awakened with anticipation of the unexpected discoveries boasted
of by a new day? The joy she felt in her heart surprised her, and though she
didn’t get as much sleep as usual, she rose from her bed.
    She placed her hand upon the window pane and savored
its coolness, knowing that all too soon it would give way to the torridness of
the sun’s relentless rays. With the same efficiency and busyness of the birds
singing their melodies while hunting for their breakfast outside her window,
Amelia flitted about the room preparing for the day’s activities, anxious to explore
this foreign place.
    Satisfied with her endeavor to make herself look
presentable, she slipped out the door, tiptoed through the corridor that lead
to the stairway, and slowly descended the stairs as she gripped the banister. It
was smooth and possessed the feeling of being painted.
    She decided to explore this strange, new environment
further before heading outside for a quiet talk with her Maker. Before long,
she concluded that the stairs jutted from the second floor only to separate the
room below into two, large halves. Feeling around the perimeter of the room,
Amelia familiarized herself with the location of its windows and the two front
doors. Her friends had always described the front entry to all saloons as
containing two, swinging half-doors, but this one was composed of two,
full-sized wooden doors with a latch that locked them together tightly.
    Scattered throughout the large hall, numerous round,
wooden tables sat in no particular pattern, each with several chairs stacked
upside down upon them. The tables were not fancy and by running her hands along
the tops and sides, Amelia discovered that many of them had been scratched and
marred through much apparent use.
    Against the back wall to the left of the stairway,
resided an upright piano with a round, revolving stool nestled safely under the
keyboard, out of the way of those who may be tempted to rest upon it and pound
out an unlikely tune. Amelia lifted the lid and gently rubbed the tops of the
smooth, ivory keys, fondly remembering the myriad of hours she and her mother
had spent at their own piano at home, not playing the roles of mother and
daughter, but rather as instructor and pupil. Grace Jackson had traded her
beloved china hutch for that piano, and it had become as comforting and
familiar to Amelia as her own mother had always been.
    It had been four months since Amelia stood near a
piano. As she recalled the last time she played, silent tears trickled down the
contours of her cheeks. It became too lamentable for her to dwell upon---not
now---not today. She quickly put it out of her mind. Banishing the liquid
nuisances with the back of her hand, she proceeded to locate middle C with her
right index finger and skillfully guided her fingers across the tops of the
keys as if they were whispering a silent cantata. Being careful not to play a
single note, in her mind Amelia strained to hear the music her fingers were
meticulously performing. She took a deep breath, sighed heavily, and with
admirable determination proceeded with the tour of her newly acquired habitat.
    Next, she located the smoothly polished bar. There was
a considerable amount of temptation within her to explore the area immediately
behind it, but she was unyielding to its beckoning, and decided against it at
this time.
    Testing the door to the right of the bar, Amelia found
it unlocked, and she cautiously opened it and