Age: 27 (Dec. 21, 1832)

Description: He has brown hair and brown eyes and he�s 6� 1".

Father: Thomas Andrew Montgomery

Mother: Victoria Covington Montgomery (died in childbirth)

Grandparents: Unknown

Summary: He was born in London, England, and he traveled around with father. His mother died in childbirth. His father was left to take care of him and being the sailor he was could not stay away from the sea for too long. So he took his son with him while school was not in session. Thomas Montgomery sent his son to the finest schools in England where Charlie
became a fencing master. After he graduated from school, a degree in Business Management, he traveled with his father. While in Asia, he studied with the Martial Arts Masters and being the quick study soon was a master himself. When they reached America, Thomas and Charlie decided that they wanted to open a seafood restaurant. However, in the big cities it would not
make enough money. So they headed west. Thomas died along the way in a wagon train ambush. About a year later, Charlie saw a for sale sign on the Dreamville restaurant and bought it.

"If you only knew what I was doin� now!" She said to her reflection as she applied her make up. "God forgive me for what I�ve become.

Alvie had left the orphanage three years ago, at fourteen. She was tough, brazen, and in love. She�d met Marcus Lee at Rosebud�s, the saloon in Bakersville. Alvie was waiting tables, but no matter how many times she was asked, she would never go upstairs with a man.

Finally, after so many promises, Alvie left the orphanage with Marcus. For a while, he was everything she thought he was, charming, funny, and loving, but all that changed, almost overnight. He began hitting her, yelling at her, and demeaning her. No matter how much she tried to please him, he never seemed happy. Now, she was doing exactly what she�d promised Sister Teresa and herself she�d never do.

"Hey, Lilly," Marcus shouted her real name. "Where are you?"

She wanted to run, but she was afraid he�d find her, like he�d done so many times before.

"There you are," he said with a smile. "Merry Christmas."

Alvie looked at him. In his hand he held a large package. "You have nothing I want Marcus." She spat, turning away from him.

He walked up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist. "Oh, I think I do," he whispered in her ear. She pulled away, cringing at the thought of him touching her. "C�mon, Lilly," Marcus persisted, "Open the present I bought you." He was too nice. There was something going on. She took the gift, and began to unwrap it. "We have a special client tonight, and I�d hate to see you dressed as you are�"

Alvie�s green eyes narrowed. She felt her temper begin to get the better of her. "It�s Christmas Eve, Marcus!"

He smiled at her anger. "Yep. That�s why you�re wearin� that dress!"

She held the red velvet dress in he hands, hating how soft it felt. She couldn�t take this any longer. "This is the last time, Marcus. The absolute last time!"

Marcus laughed. "My dear sweet, Lilly," he purred. "You�re mine. Always and forever." As he spoke, he ran his hand down the length of her. "All of you." Alvie closed her eyes and told herself that he wasn�t touching her. The same as she did every night for the past two and a half years. "Now, get dressed," he ordered. She began to change, fully aware that Marcus was watching. She should�ve been used to it by now, but it made her hate Marcus even more.

"Please, turn around," she said in a small voice.

"Come on now, Lilly," he replied. She could tell that he was relishing in her shame. "We don�t have time for your frivolous worries. Just get dressed." As Alvie pulled on the velvet gown she promised to herself that by next year, she would be rid of Marcus. Granted it was only a few days away, but she�d find a way.

Alvie climbed into the buggy and settled in for the trip to Marcus� house. It was a large house, six bedrooms in all, and she�d been in all of them. He lived in the next town over, but tonight the ride seemed as if they�d simply gone next door.

"Where do you want me?" She asked, dreading the events that would take place.

"The last bedroom," he grinned. "More private."

Alvie entered the house, ignoring the marble floor her heels clicked on. She walked past the silver and gold reamed pictures that lined the wall as she climbed the stairs. Upstairs, her feet sank into plush burgundy carpeting. She hated all of it! In her mind, she envisioned the house burning down, Marcus trapped inside. It made her smile.

The fire in the fireplace warmed the room. A four poster bed took up most of the room. A dresser and couch took up one wall, and two Queen Anne chairs sat by the fireplace. Marcus spared no expense on his private brothel. Alive filled a glass with whiskey and drank it in one gulp. She stared at the fire as the liquid burned its way through her body. One more glass and she�d be numb enough to do the job.

"Lilly," Marcus said, opening the door. "This is Mister Blake Whitmore," he announced. "He asked for you by name. Seems you�re getting quite a name for yourself." Alvie saw the glint in Marcus� eyes. He was thrilled at the fact that her reputation was growing. She hated it. "I�ll let you two get aquatinted."

Alvie was bitter. She was sick of being used. "So, how long do you have me for, Mister Whitmore?"

His hazel eyes looked her over. "Do you always ask your clients that?"

"No," she replied with a sigh. "I�m sorry."

Blake sat down by the fire. "Come sit with me." Alvie joined him, her head light from the whiskey. She looked over at him. He seemed friendly, almost fatherly.

"You seem like a very nice lady," he complimented.

"Lady, Mister Whitmore?" she almost laughed. "Been a long time since anyone called me that!"

"Please, call me Blake," he told her with a smile. Great! He wanted to be on a first name basis. It took all of her will to tell him that if she used his first name, she�d have to admit to herself that he was real.

"Who told you about me?"

Blake shook his head. "I�m sorry, but I can�t tell you�"

"Fine. What would you like, Blake?"

His eyes became sad, yet his voice was strong. "I want to save you from . . ."

Alvie laughed. "The only way you can do that is to kill Marcus!"

"Not true, Lilly," he confessed. "There�s a little town, �bout a three days ride from here�"

"What are you tellin me?"

Blake sighed. "Go there. Start over . . ."

"How do you propose I get the hell away from Marcus?"

"My daughter, Angel, was employed by a man like Marcus," he confessed. "He killed her . . ."

"I�m sorry," she said. Marcus had, on more than one occasion, promised to end her life.

"You need to get away from him, Lilly," he warned again. "If you want to live, I can help you."

"How?" she asked. Suddenly, this conversation was getting interesting.

"I�ll arrange for Marcus to become . . . shall we say, indisposed," he smiled a little at the thought. "And you�ll run away."

Alvie stood and walked to the window. Marcus had promised her the world, and she�d become its whore. Blake seemed nice enough, but she couldn�t trust him. She�d given up trusting people long ago, the same time she�d given up on love. Maybe if she agreed to go along with his plan, she could escape if things went wrong.

"I know it sounds too good," Blake continued. "I also imagine that you don�t trust me."

"Mister Whitmore," Alvie began. "Please, don�t try to tell me how I feel. You don�t know the first thing about me."

Blake nodded. "You�re right, but I do know where you�re headed," he confessed. "But I�d still like to help."

She thought for a while. He wanted to help, and she wanted out. "Fine," she agreed. "What do I do?"

�The next night, she pretended to be sick when Marcus came for her.

"Get up, Lilly!" He shouted, dragging her out of bed by her hair.

"Marcus," she cried. "Stop it."

He pulled her to her feet. "Get dressed."

"No,� she shouted defiantly. "I�m sick. I can�t work tonight."

The way Marcus looked at her turned her blood to ice. His eyes became almost black as the vein in his neck pulsed as his anger flared.

"How dare you!" he said. His voice was calm, too under control. "You still don�t realize, I make the rules here, Lilly. Maybe you need a little reminding?"

"Please, Marcus," she whispered as he backed her into the corner. "Please, don�t�"

Marcus beat her, for the thousandth time. He hit her until her blood covered his hands.

"Merry Christmas, bitch!" He spat, throwing a handful of money on top of her unmoving body. "Fix yourself up!"

Lilly waited until she knew he was gone. As she washed the blood from her face, she silently vowed that no man would ever touch her like that again.

"You�re late!" she said as Blake walked through the door of the old mill. While she waited, she changed into pants and an oversized shirt.

"I told you I�d take care of Marcus," he answered, then pulled an envelope of money from his inside coat pocket. "He was nice enough to give me this for you."

She knew he was lying. "I don�t want your money . . ."

"I stole it from him," he confessed. "You�ll need it."

Alvie tried to smile, but it hurt too much. "Thank you," she said. "How can I repay you?"

"Just stay alive, Lilly," he replied. "There�s a small house just outside of town," he explained. "My son and I built it for Angel. It� all furnished and waiting for you."

She was being set free, and was never more scared in her entire life. She packed the money safely away inside her coat. When she reached the door, she turned back to the man who�d saved her. "Mister Whitmore," she said. "What�s the name of the town?"

He smiled. "Dreamville."

For a moment, she pondered the name. "Thanks."