The Woman Behind the Bar
Posted on Wed Jan 14th, 2026 @ 12:54am by Bonnie Campbell
713 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Assembling the Troubleshooters
Location: The Long Branch Saloon
Timeline: Date 1877-10-02 at 1400
Bonnie peered down from the second floor of the Long Branch Saloon at the bar and gaming tables that occupied its eastern wing. The rich oak floors had been polished to a high gleam, and gaslit chandeliers washed the room in a soft, amber glow. An antsy stillness clung to the air, the kind that settled in just before a storm broke. But the Long Branch’s storm would not bring rain or wind; it would bring loud, eager men desperate to escape the dangers that pressed in on Dodge City from all sides.
“Put your best foot forward tonight, girls,” Bonnie said, turning to face the gathered saloon girls. “Word is they struck more ghost rock at the mine today. When those men come back into town, they’ll be looking to celebrate. Heavy pockets mean good business, men who usually can’t afford this place will finally be bold enough to step inside. Your job is to make sure they stay.”
“Yes, Miss Bonnie,” The group of painted women behind her replied in unison before straightening themselves and scattering throughout the massive saloon. Standing two stories tall and occupying an entire city block, the Long Branch was the premier venue for gambling, drink, music, and entertainment. Part of its reputation rested on its grandeur but much of it was thanks to Bonnie herself and her discerning eye for the women she chose to employ.
As the parlor emptied, one girl remained seated on a red velvet settee. Dressed in deep green that complemented her auburn curls, her pretty face was clouded by a frown as she leaned forward and rubbed at her aching feet.
“My shoes are too tight,” the girl pouted, glancing up at Bonnie. “They hurt somethin’ awful.”
“Did you do as I told you and coat them with lanolin before puttin’ them on—three pairs of socks and all?” Bonnie asked, folding her arms across her chest as she spoke. She already knew the answer.
“No.” The girl shook her head, her curls bouncing with the motion. “I didn’t have time. Seth came to visit this mornin’, and…”
“Again?” Bonnie sighed, irritation flickering across her face. “June, what did I tell you about keepin’ favorites?”
“That I shouldn’,” June recited dutifully. “Give one man too much attention and the rest start thinkin’ they don’t stand a chance.”
“Exactly. Public affection should always look transactional,” Bonnie said firmly. “Private matters must remain private.”
“But what if someone here wants all of my attention?” June asked, suddenly distressed. “Seth would pitch a fit.”
“My doves aren’t soiled,” Bonnie corrected gently but firmly. “Every last one of you is a lady, and no one here will treat you otherwise.”
“It wasn’t like that in Deadwood,” June said softly. “We were expected to provide… and perform.”
“Not here. Not now. Not ever,” Bonnie replied. “I know how cruel that life can be, and I won’t put you through it. The men who come here are gentlemen and they will behave as such.”
June hesitated, then blurted, “I think I love Seth.”
“If he loves you too, he’ll do right by you,” Bonnie said, knowing that she would probably be down one more saloon girl before the month had finished. “But until then, you need to do the job I hired you for. There’s a reason you’re dressed well, fed well, and kept safe.”
“But my feet…” June murmured, returning to her tight shoes.
Bonnie considered her for a moment. “All right. You can clip cigars up here in the salon tonight and fetch after dinner brandy.”
The second floor was reserved for high-stakes games and quiet negotiations, it was a place where men shared secrets, made deals, and revealed more than they intended. It was also where Bonnie spent most of her time.
“Really?” June brightened. “You mean it?”
“Only if you’re hospitable and agreeable,” Bonnie warned. “That means no Seth tonight, and be on your best behavior.”
“Yes, Miss Bonnie,” June said eagerly, understanding the opportunity she’d been given.
“And keep your wits about you,” Bonnie added, turning her gaze back toward the card tables below. “Something’s brewin’ in Dodge City. Something big. I can feel it in my bones.”
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