Tainted Dreams

by Christi Corbett

  Though her original intent had been to peruse the titles Theodore valued so much he'd sacrificed space in his wagon to bring them over the trail, the sight of sheet music displayed atop the traveling trunk in the far left corner waylaid her plan. While she hadn't especially enjoyed her years of forced piano lessons, she did appreciate music as a whole. Apparently so did Theodore. As she browsed through the pages, she recognized several of the finest concertos and minuets, and even her favorite symphony—Beethoven's eighth.

  She replaced the sheets as she'd found them and then spent time at the bookshelf. Once again she discovered they had similar tastes. After pulling a book down to take back to her room, Kate crossed the parlor to stand before the oak clock hanging on the wall. The octagonal shape of the face, the black roman numerals, and the gold pendulum swinging behind the glass-covered door brought on a rush of memories of her childhood.

  Her father had kept a similar clock in his study.

  Every Sunday evening following her fifth birthday, when he'd deemed her old enough, he'd held her in the crook of his arm and let her watch as he inserted a gold key into a small hole and turned it until the wheels and springs inside were tight enough to keep time for another week. Then he'd allow her to restart the pendulum with a gentle push. Afterward she'd circle her arms around his neck and rest her head against his shoulder as he carried her up the long staircase and into her bedroom.

  On her tenth birthday, he'd pressed the heavy key into her palm and watched proudly as she'd wound the clock and pushed the pendulum. He'd then placed her hand around his elbow and escorted her up the stairs and to her room, where a maid waited to assist her in bathing and dressing for bed.

  The tradition had continued until the week her mother had taken ill. Her father's focus shifted to doing everything in his power to get her well, and most everything else had slipped his mind. Kate had kept up the Sunday ritual on her own until her mother's death, three months after her thirteenth birthday.

  "Hello."

  She jumped at the unexpected interruption, surprised to see Theodore standing just inside the parlor doorway.

  "I apologize for startling you." He took two steps into the room, then halted. "I'll go."

  "There's no need to apologize, nor for you to leave," Kate insisted. "I was lost in memories and didn't hear you come in."

  "I noticed," Theodore said, walking toward the window on the opposite wall. "You looked so peaceful I hated to bother you, but I'd watched you for so long I felt I needed to either say something or leave." He smiled. "I spoke up because I couldn't bear the thought of leaving."

  After sliding the window curtains aside, his gaze went to the traveling trunk. He studied the top for several seconds, then frowned. "I see piano music is part of your memories?"

  Kate was mortified. "I'm so sorry. I should have asked your permission before rifling through your personal property."

  Though Theodore waved off her apology, he spent nearly a minute adjusting the corners of the sheet music until the stack was a solid block, with every paper perfectly aligned with the one below. Once he was satisfied, he straightened and eyed the book in her hand.

  Kate cringed. "I had no right to—"

  Theodore held up his hand. "It's my issue, not yours. Think nothing of it. In fact, it's good to finally meet a woman with an obvious love for music and books."

  She hesitated, and then shifted her hand to reveal the cover.

  His eyes widened. "You speak French?"

  She nodded. "Fluently, thanks to eight years of lessons from a private tutor."

  "Avez-vous jouer du piano?" he asked.

  "Oui, bien que mon instructeur pourrait en désaccord."

  "I too play the piano." He chuckled and held out his hand. "And I have the scars on my knuckles to prove it."

  "Why would playing the piano lead to scars?"

  "My teacher believed a sturdy slap with a strong ruler to be an apt punishment for fumbling notes."

  She gasped. "Didn't your mother ever intervene on your behalf?"

  His expression hardened. "My teacher was my mother."

  Silence blanketed the room until finally Theodore spoke again. "I've found you can tell a great deal about a person by their book collection. Tell me, which ones did you bring along?"

  "We left the majority of our books behind in Virginia. The accident that killed my father also broke our wagon beyond repair, so I had to leave nearly everything I owned behind, save for my Bible and what I could fit in my saddlebags."

  "Such a shame." Theodore grimaced. "When I learned you'd arrived with only horses, I assumed it was due to Jake's propensity of demanding travelers abandon all they hold dear."

  Unwilling to further a discussion about Jake or one of the three worst days of her life, Kate changed the subject to the first object that caught her eye. "The floor rug in here is beautiful. I would guess by the color scheme and pattern it's imported? Perhaps from Europe?"

  Instead of answering, Theodore cocked his head and stared at her, his expression both appreciative and intense. Kate got the distinct impression she was being evaluated, but for what?

  "You have impeccable taste and a good eye for quality," he said quietly. "I must admit, I'm thrilled to meet someone who can fully appreciate my upbringing, my lifestyle, and the things I can offer. This territory is rife with either garish saloon hags or farm women who value soil quality and beasts of burden far more than education. I've waited years for a woman like you to arrive, a woman who understands what living with wealth entails, and requires."

  His brows furrowed and he tapped his index finger against his lips several times before continuing. "I understand now why you were so in awe the last time you ate dinner at my table. Seeing civilization again after so many months of living outside like an animal must have been exhilarating."

  Kate raised her chin a notch. "Actually, I was more in awe of the lies spouting from your mouth." And your determination to destroy Jake's reputation.

  "In all honesty, I'm mortified at my behavior that night." Theodore's shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh. "Frankly, I haven't been myself since my wife died."

  His voice cracked at the last word and he fumbled through his pockets until he found a handkerchief.

  "I'm sorry," he murmured, dabbing at a solitary tear sliding down his cheek. "It's been years since she passed, but as I've discovered, grief returns at the most inopportune moments." He gave her a sympathetic look. "Something I suspect you know all too well."

  Kate nodded, astonished at how fast his demeanor had changed.

  "I have no family out here, so I was elated when I got word of William and Margaret's impending arrival." He wiped his eyes and then let out another heavy sigh. "I had grand visions of gathering together to celebrate the birth of their child, birthdays, holidays, and everything in between. Once I learned they’d already made a claim, I did my best to assure their safety and comfort by hiring a team of men to build them a house. Unfortunately, that also means they’ll be leaving the moment it’s completed.” He folded his handkerchief, returned it to his pocket, then stared dejectedly at his empty hands.

  Kate felt a twinge of guilt for initially suspecting his display of emotion was more calculated than sincere. The fact remained he was a lonely widower in a desolate land, pining for his wife and family.

  "It's hard to let go of a dream." She touched his forearm, tentatively at first, then gave a firm squeeze before pulling away.

  Theodore quickly raised his head. "Where are my manners? I'm rambling on about myself and I haven't even asked if you'd like to sit down and join me for my Sunday morning ritual, a cup of tea."

  It didn't escape her notice that all traces of Theodore's misery had vanished and his confident smirk had returned. He was indeed an accomplished actor, but Kate had spent years under the tutelage of her driven and calculating aunt, who specialized in the art of emotional manipulation.

  She smiled. "Yes, I'd love some tea."

  With an
elaborate bow, Theodore motioned her toward the three mahogany chairs upholstered with cream-and-teal velvet she'd avoided her first night in town. She sat and then watched Theodore swing his silver bell side to side three times.

  Kate wondered how many times Clara had been tempted to hide that bell.

  Within a minute, Clara appeared carrying a tray with a silver teapot, a plate of sugar cubes stacked in a pyramid, a carafe of heavy cream, and one cup sitting on a saucer. Sighting Kate, she faltered.

  "Oh, I didn't realize you had company, Mr. Martin." She set down the tray, then straightened. "I'll bring another set right away."

  "Thank you, Clara," Kate called out to her departing figure.

  Once she was out of the room, Kate turned to Theodore. "She's sweet and kind. You're lucky to have her assisting you in your hotel."

  He was so focused on dripping cream into his tea drop by drop that he either hadn't heard her, or had ignored her altogether.

  Clara returned with a cup and saucer on a smaller tray, as well as a duplicate plate of sugar cubes and another carafe of cream. "It's good to see you venturing out of your room."

  "You didn't need to go to such trouble," Kate insisted. "I could have used the sugar you already—"

  Clara's grimace and a slight shake of her head told Kate not to pursue it further.

  After Clara had quit the room, Kate filled her cup with tea and added two sugar cubes and a splash of cream, then sat back in her chair and watched Theodore, now so engrossed in holding a sugar cube halfway into his tea and watching the crystals melt he was oblivious to anything around him.

  "Well then," he said once he'd finally made the tea to his liking and gotten comfortable in his chair, "I feel I must again apologize for my blunt behavior during our last dinner together. I thought you already knew of Jake's proclivity toward saloon women. Given your response that evening, I quickly learned different."

  He returned his cup to its saucer, steepled his fingers together, and brought them to his chin. "My intention was never to upset you or bring you more pain. Is that why you've been hiding in your room all week? Because of what I said?"

  "No. I met some of the men in town. I don't want to go into further detail, so I'll just say they were far from gentlemen."

  "Oh, you poor dear." He pursed his lips and gave her a sympathetic look. "I won't pry, but I'd like to give you some advice."

  "Advice?"

  His tone turned authoritative. "Any time you leave the safety of the hotel, you should have an escort, and even then it is imperative you stay far away from the saloon." He paused to give her a curious look. "Where was Jake while you were being accosted in front of the mercantile, or when you were in the land office?"

  "I was alone," Kate replied warily. "How is it you are reluctant to pry, yet you know so much about my whereabouts?"

  He chuckled. "Maybe you don't realize it yet, but you are the talk of the town."

  "What?"

  He raised his palms and brows. "Take no offense, but out here an unmarried woman—especially a beautiful one—is a rare commodity and therefore is in high demand." He frowned. "What I have yet to figure out is why you're in Oregon Territory to begin with."

  "Like you, my father was a widower and decided to come west with the intention of starting over. He planned to run a mercantile in town, and eventually start a horse ranch. My younger brother and I were going to help."

  "Did you consider returning home after they died?"

  Kate nodded. "I wanted to, but it was already too late in the year and we'd come too far to turn back. Jake said we had no choice but to continue west."

  Theodore brought his cup to his lips and peered at her thoughtfully over the edge of the rim. "Will you be heading east come spring?

  "No." She hesitated. "At least, I hadn't thought so. But now that my father's deed to the mercantile has been proven to be a forgery, I'm not certain. I'd love to find out who is responsible and expose their scheme to the world."

  Theodore's cup slid from his fingers and tumbled down his chest, spilling the remains of his tea down his vest and onto his trousers.

  "Oh no!" Kate exclaimed, quickly setting her own cup aside to grab the stack of linen napkins from the tea tray. She handed half to Theodore, who was now standing and grimacing at the wetness spreading across his clothes. As she blotted away the few spots on the velvet chair, he removed the pocket watch from his vest pocket, checked it over, and patted it dry.

  "Were you burned?" she asked. "Should I get some butter from Clara?"

  He waved away her offer. "No. I'm fine, really. The tea was lukewarm so there's no harm done."

  She returned to her chair and placed the damp napkins on the serving tray. "I think your vest got the worst of it. Your chair should be fine."

  He joined her again, this time sitting in the dry chair beside hers. "I'm more concerned about you, Kate. What do you intend to do now?"

  "Thankfully my father was a sound businessman with good instincts. He left me with enough money to tide me over until I can figure out what to do next."

  "What about the other deed?" he asked quietly.

  She drew back in surprise. "How do you know about that?"

  "I'm a well-connected, well-respected businessman. Little happens in this town that I don't know about." He sprang to his feet, shoved his hands into his pockets, and began pacing along the far wall. "Where are the deeds now?"

  "Upstairs, in my room." Instinct told Kate to lie. In truth, they were hidden within a pocket Kate had sewn into the lining of her pink dress.

  Theodore stopped pacing and stared at her. "If you get land, then you'll rarely come into Oregon City."

  Kate shrugged. "I suppose so."

  "You'll be so busy trying to survive you won't have time to track whoever it was that sold your father that deed."

  Kate got the odd impression he was talking to himself rather than to her. She stayed silent, sensing the man was battling a conflict deep within. He started pacing again, but this time he made it only one length of the room before stopping.

  "Kate," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I know a legal loophole that will allow you to claim your land."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Any Person

  "There's a way out of your troubles," Theodore said. "A way for you to either claim the land your deed represents, or a different plot altogether."

  "How?" Kate demanded. "How is it possible?"

  "One specific word makes it possible. 'Person.'" Theodore clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing the room again. "Allow me the liberty of backtracking, so I can explain it clearer. About a year ago, many influential men in the area—myself included—realized the need for self-government. This need ultimately led to a series of meetings to discuss the issue. These 'Wolf Meetings', as many have deemed them because the first one dealt primarily with the trouble the wolves were creating for livestock, expanded from discussing animals to creating the Provisional Government of Oregon."

  "How does this relate to my deed?"

  Theodore staggered, then stopped pacing altogether. "I'm getting to that point. Bear with me, because it's complicated."

  If an audience was what this self-important braggart wanted, Kate would happily listen to him recite the full history of how America had been founded, topped off with a reading of the entire Constitution, if it meant he'd help her get her land.

  His pacing and rambling began anew. "On July 5th of this year, the newly formed Provisional Government voted to adopt the Organic Laws of Oregon."

  Kate pondered how serendipitous it was that this event occurred on the same day of her father's death. Her future revolved around that day in more ways than one.

  Theodore noticed her distraction and paused to stare at her with one brow raised. "Are you paying attention? Because here's where it gets interesting."

  Reminding herself yet again how the end justified the means, Kate made a show of sitting straighter and folding her hands on her
lap.

  "I'll skip the details of the various sections and articles of the document, and concentrate on the portion that pertains to your specific situation—the Law of Land Claims." His smile and tone turned smug. "While I warned everyone the phrasing was vitally important and we needed specific restrictions based on race, gender, and citizenship, they scoffed at my concerns. While I foresaw how their vague wording might eventually lead to problems should a willful woman come along, they deemed it inconceivable that an unmarried woman would want to own land." Theodore let out an arrogant laugh. "It seems you're about to benefit from their negligence."

  Kate perched on the edge of her chair, waiting for him to clarify. She lasted only a few seconds before blurting out, "I still don't understand what the word 'person' has to do with getting land."

  Theodore stood behind his original chair across from hers and smoothed his palms over the damp spots on his vest several times before continuing. "There's always been a deep-rooted tradition that only a man—or a man and his wife," he amended, "could get land. As a result, they anticipated no problem with using the word 'person' in Article One of the Land Claims Law."

  "Which says what?" she asked.

  "I remember it verbatim since I fought so hard against it. 'Any person now holding, or hereafter wishing to establish, a claim to land in this territory, shall designate the extent of his claim by natural boundaries, or by marks at the corners arid on the lines of such claim, and have the extent and boundaries of such claim recorded in the office of the territorial recorder…'"

  He trailed off and stared intently at Kate, who by now was grinning and bouncing her heels against the floor.

  "I see there's no need to continue, since you obviously understand how you will take advantage of their error?"

  Kate's feet stilled as she recalled Claude's adamant denials. "I do, but I still don't know that Claude will be agreeable to—"

  "I'll handle Claude," Theodore replied firmly. "You'll get your land, but I insist you abandon your threatened pursuit of whoever is responsible for the fake deed. Twisting the intent of the Claims Law is going to upset enough men as it is; you don't need to bring more danger upon yourself by poking around where you don't belong. You've already seen enough of the elephant coming out here, wouldn't you say?"