Tainted Dreams

by Christi Corbett

  Jake nodded. Around-the-clock care for a horse was tough to deal with. It was little wonder Kate looked so worn out. Though he'd never wish infirmity on a horse, he was grateful to hear Nina was the reason for Kate's decline; exhaustion and hunger could be remedied far easier than illness.

  After a brief discussion about Nina's care, Jake was impressed with Kate's skill at handling such a dangerous health issue alone. He also wondered what Theo had done to help during the crisis. Judging by Kate's appearance it hadn't been much, if anything at all.

  "How's your house?" he asked.

  Instead of answering, Kate bit her lip and stared off into the distance. Her distractedness, coupled with her appearance, settled the issue for Jake. What she needed was some tender care, coupled with firm insistence that she spend the next few days resting more than working. Since Theo obviously wasn't man enough to handle it, Jake would gladly step up.

  "How about a tour?" he asked. "I'd love to see what you've done with the place."

  Truth was, Jake could care less about what trinkets she'd put where. He wanted to see for himself her walls and roof were solid, her supplies were plentiful, and she had easy access to Elijah's guns should she need the protection they provided. And given her uncharacteristically docile temperament, right now was the perfect time to check on her.

  To his relief, Kate offered only a brief show of hesitation before nodding her agreement, dropping her gloves beside the hatchet, and heading toward her house. He quickly tied Nickel to the closest tree, then followed Kate.

  "Watch your step," she warned as she nimbly made her way across the porch. It was a mess of rotten wood and collapsed railings, neither of which concerned Jake. Front sitting was a luxury, not a necessity.

  The door was another thing entirely.

  He watched silently as she slammed her left shoulder and arm against the door. To his dismay it took five straining shoves for her to push it open far enough to slip inside. Her slim fingers grasped the edge, and Jake couldn't resist helping her as she pulled it open further, allowing him entry.

  While she closed the door and then fiddled with a candle sitting on a nearby table, Jake stood still and waited for his eyes to adjust to the low light and his exposed skin to adjust to the frigid temperature. How long had it been since she'd had a fire? The fireplace was suspiciously missing the telltale orange glow of banked coals, and a test exhale confirmed his breath's ability to hang in the air as a white cloud.

  The candle's flame flickered to life, revealing an unmade bed, unwashed dishes, and an empty wood box.

  Jake's hand tightened around the hatchet he'd forgotten he was holding. "I left something outside. I'll be back soon."

  He opened the door with one firm yank, closed it behind him, and then hurried back to where she'd been chopping wood. Ignoring the pain in his aching shoulders, Jake sank the hatchet blade into the fallen tree trunk. Working at a speed that bordered on frantic, he chopped for the next fifteen minutes without stopping.

  His reward for his effort was the undisguised smile of relief Kate gave him when she answered his knock and found him standing on her porch with his arms loaded with wood, and a hefty pile of kindling stacked by his feet.

  "Thank you," she murmured as he stepped around her.

  He moved to the wood box and dumped what he carried, happy to see he'd filled it so far that two logs didn't fit, and instead toppled over the edge and rolled toward the kitchen. When he retrieved them, he couldn't help but to give a closer evaluation of the dirty dishes scattered across the top of the prep cabinet. All had sat there for several days at least, and none held the telltale marks of hearty eating—bacon grease, gravy splotches, pork gristle, or bread crusts. Instead, they all featured the dried batter he recognized from his leaner days before he'd had Kate's father's money to spend on needs and wants.

  Eyebrows raised in trepidation, he turned. Kate stood by her kitchen table, her expression one of uncertainty and shame. Jake took note of how one of her hands grasped the back of one of the chairs so hard her knuckles were white, and the other hand was braced against the tabletop as if she were afraid of collapsing.

  "How about you sit while I start a fire?" he asked, hoping her hatred of being seen as weak would be far overshadowed by her obvious need to rest.

  To his great relief, she sat.

  Jake hurried to the rickety porch, brought in the remaining kindling, and returned to her fireplace. He crouched before the hearth, where his suspicions were quickly confirmed as to the last time she'd had a fire—he had much more to do than stir the ashes and add fresh kindling.

  As he worked to bring a roaring fire to life, he gave surreptitious glances to his surroundings.

  She'd displayed everything she'd brought from Virginia in a manner that pleased the eye, and had a few items he'd never seen before, like a new quilt and pillow. However, the light of the growing flames revealed previously darkened corners where, to his relief he saw Elijah's rifle, and to his dismay, he saw less than half the food supplies she'd need to survive the winter. Another glance around the room exposed another issue—a plethora of pots, pans, and water-soaked rags positioned to catch raindrops falling from the leaky roof.

  "I see you're checking everything I've done," Kate said quietly. "What do you think so far?"

  "The house looks nice," he said, struggling for a way to tell her she'd spent precious time decorating, when instead she should have focused on her basic needs like chopping wood and tilling soil in preparation to plant a spring garden. However, no good would come from him giving word to his disappointment, so he said nothing else.

  "I'd hoped to accomplish more by now, but given all that's happened with Nina I've had to put off a few things. I'll get to it all, though. Eventually."

  Jake plucked the tin coffeepot from the hearth, got to his feet, and turned to face her. "Mind if I make us some coffee?"

  "I can do it," she replied, her tone hinting at the fierce determination he knew so well. He heard the scrape of her chair as she made a half-hearted attempt to rise.

  "I'm closer," he said easily, moving to her kitchen cabinet in search of coffee and two mugs.

  She settled back into her seat. "How have you been?"

  Jake smiled at the ease at which they were able to fall back into simple, easy conversation. Of course, they hadn't spoken of anything of substance, but for now it was enough.

  "I'm doing well," he said, tossing a handful of coffee grounds in the pot. "I've been busy working my claim, and just finished building a stable." He covered the grounds with water and then set the coffeepot near the fire.

  "Good thing you've got a place for them, especially since it seems Plug likes to wander here as much as he did on the trail." Kate gave him a hesitant smile. "He's paid me a few visits."

  "Some things never change." Jake chuckled at first, then his lips tightened at the thought of who else had paid Kate a visit.

  He couldn't do it. He couldn't handle Kate speaking of Theo favorably, so he decided to avoid the topic altogether. Better to instead focus on honoring his promise to her father instead of how he'd lost her to a man like Theo, who was apparently content with allowing Kate to wither down to skin and bones and work herself to exhaustion. Even during their worst days on the trail her eyes hadn't shown the distinct haunted, hungry look they did now.

  He grabbed two logs from the wood box and knelt again before the fire. Already the room felt warmer, but he still wasn't satisfied. After poking one of the chunks of wood into a better position, he turned to find Kate still seated at the table, her eyes closed and her head leaning against her hand.

  She was asleep.

  Quietly, he rose and moved to the kitchen.

  An hour later he carried a plate loaded with pan-fried salt pork, cornbread, and hefty chunks of seasoned potatoes and carrots across the room. Kate awoke with a start as he set the plate on the table.

  "Sleep well?" he asked, settling himself in the opposite chair, a mug of coffee in hand. />
  She nodded, her eyes focused on the pile of food sitting before her.

  "I figured you could use a good meal," he murmured, sliding a fork, knife, and cloth napkin closer to her right hand. The action reminded him of the time on the trail when she'd been so out of sorts she'd refused to eat for days.

  Thankfully, today was different.

  Still staring at her food, Kate picked up her fork. Jake saw only the top of her head as she bent low over the plate and shoveled in the first few bites with the hurriedness of a feral dog that had discovered a discarded cow carcass behind a butcher shop.

  Just as Jake was about to warn her not to eat too fast, lest everything make a return appearance, she set her fork down and straightened in her chair. With her eyes closed and her mouth full, she gave a low moan of pleasure as she slowly chewed.

  He'd been there many a time and knew exactly how wonderful it felt the moment hunger pangs finally subsided enough to allow a person to finally enjoy the savory scents and tastes of a substantial meal.

  "There's plenty more," he said, rising to return to the kitchen.

  Kate's eyes flew open and she shook her head. "No, please," she said, grabbing his hands with her own to hold him in place. "Stay."

  Her cheeks reddened and she quickly pulled her hands away, but not before he'd noticed their appearance. The skin surrounding several of her nails and knuckles had cracked open, and three spots showed telltale smears of dried blood. Her palms had felt rough against the backs of his hands, and he surmised them to be in far worse condition than her foot had been when she'd hurt it on the trail.

  Jake forced himself to just stay still and sip his coffee while he considered what to do, and say, next. While he'd spent the past three weeks utilizing his carpentry skills to build a stable, a ladder, and the beginnings of a workshop to make furniture while he was stuck inside during the upcoming rainy season, she'd been huddled in a cold house, shifting bowls of rainwater beneath a leaky roof and fighting to open and close a heavy door.

  While he'd been filling his belly daily with small game he'd hunted either with his rifle or snares and fish he'd caught from his creek using a bent sewing needle, she'd been surviving on pancakes and water.

  While he'd chopped enough wood to last well into the summer months, she'd been spending hours each day with a dull hatchet, with little to show for her efforts.

  Though Jake was amazed at Kate's tenacity and unbreakable spirit in light of all she had faced and overcome since taking over her claim, the fact remained she was unsuited and unprepared for solitary life on a desolate land.

  Kate pinched her last bite of cornbread between her fingers and ran it across her plate, soaking up all the glistening remains of her salt pork. After popping the sodden morsel into her mouth, she smothered a belch into her hand, then gave him a chagrined smile.

  "Thank you for this wonderful meal." She wiped her lips with a napkin. "As you've probably gathered, it's been a while since I've had a chance to cook."

  "Kate, I'm worried about you."

  "There's no need to worry." She waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss his concern. "I went into town yesterday. At the lumberyard I placed an order of enough boards to replace the roof and porch, with plenty left over for paddock fences. I also hired a man willing to help me catch up on what I neglected when I was taking care of Nina. After that, he'll do a few basic repairs and dig fencepost holes. His name is Zeke, and he starts Friday."

  Long ago, Jake had been scornful of wealthy landowners hiring out their work instead of learning how to accomplish a task and then doing it themselves. Now he was just grateful Kate had the means to hire help. However, as he'd heard that morning in the mercantile, there was a problem.

  He was glad he'd waited to speak until she'd cleaned her plate, wanting to make certain she was sated before he brought up what was bound to be a sensitive topic.

  "Yes, it's true Zeke Waggoner is willing to help you. Help you right out of your petticoats." Not that you wear them anymore.

  She gasped. "What?"

  "Kate, that old codger's been talking everyone's ear off about how the 'fool-headed female' living out at Tom Baker's place hired him, and how much of her money he was planning on 'stealing from right under her nose since a woman don't have no business sense neither'."

  Kate's jaw went slack. "He was as polite as could be when I spoke with him yesterday."

  Jake shook his head. "He's got you duped, because just this morning he stood in the mercantile and bragged to anyone who'd listen how he was going to be doing himself a 'mighty big favor getting wages from you without having to do nothing.' And hopefully get a good glimpse down your shirt to boot."

  She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and began rubbing her temples. After nearly a full minute, she let out a long sigh and sat back in her chair.

  "Admittedly I hadn't done much—" she paused, then corrected herself, "—make that any research on him. I hired him mainly because he fit my sole criteria—willingness to work. I'll fire him the moment he steps foot on my land."

  Jake hated to even speak his next words, but if she didn't want to be with him, at least he could convince her to do what was best for her own sake. If it meant encouraging her to return to the security Theo's hotel offered, he'd do it just to make sure she was safe.

  "Kate," he said gently, "running a claim seems to be too much for you to handle on your own, and you're starting to put yourself in danger. It might be time to consider moving back into town. Back to the hotel." He paused, his brows furrowed with concern. "It won't be what you wanted, but you'll be safe and comfortable."

  "Safe and comfortable!" She jumped from her chair so fast it tipped over behind her. "My father and brother did not give their lives for me to be safe and comfortable! I came here to help my family fulfill their dreams, and now that they're gone it's up to me."

  "What about your own dreams, Kate?" he asked, wondering yet again her thoughts of having a family of her own, and someone to share in the work and joy of owning a claim.

  She stared at him for so long he almost dared to try again at telling her how much he loved her, but she spoke before he could begin.

  "This is my dream now," she replied, her chin angled at the stubborn tilt Jake had grown to love. "It's a part of me, Jake. In the beginning I wanted it for my father and brother, and now I want it for myself. Granted it's changed some since running a mercantile is out of the question, but I still want to eventually create a horse ranch here. It's going to take a lot longer than I planned, but I won't give up. Ever."

  "All right," he replied, keeping his tone calm, even though he wanted to cheer for her independence. "Then I'll do what I can to help make it come true for you. For starters, I'll be back in two days to help fix your roof and get a substantial woodpile started."

  "Are you sure? I don't want to keep you from your own work."

  He laughed. "I've just spent the last two weeks building a stable at record speed, so I'm not especially eager to get back to spending my days felling and dragging trees." He figured he was due a break while his body recovered from the strain.

  Kate bit her lip, obviously still uncertain at what he'd proposed.

  "If it makes you feel better, you can pay me back with steady supply of pies next summer once the blackberries are juicy and ripe for the picking."

  She nodded, and her grin sealed the deal.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Trouble in Town

  Wednesday, December 13, 1843

  Kate tucked the sharpening stone she'd just bought at the mercantile inside her saddlebag. The stone she'd found in her barn had long since proved ineffective, so she figured buying a new one was a practical investment in her future.

  With the first of several planned errands completed, Kate pulled herself into the saddle and set Nina to a brisk walk down the street and toward the hotel. Her horse had recovered completely from her recent illness, and Kate had every intention of providing the best of care from now on, w
hich would be yet another investment in her future. A future that looked remarkably promising.

  Kate was still amazed at how a tasty meal, a thorough washing, and ten hours of sleep in a warm bed had affected her outlook on her situation. A week ago she'd struggled just to endure each passing hour of the day, and now she was ready again to tackle the world—starting with a visit to Clara, and then checking on her order from the lumberyard.

  The men lingering on the boardwalk in front of the hotel almost convinced Kate to keep riding. Almost.

  Sighting Zeke as one of the three men content with flapping their yaps instead of being productive, hardworking members of society, Kate figured she might as well dismiss the man here on the street rather than on her own porch.

  When Jake had first told her of Zeke's true intentions, she'd only been able to stare at him as disbelief and disappointment washed over her in waves, sinking her high hopes for what she'd planned for Zeke to accomplish. Then she'd gotten angry.

  As she rode closer, the men quieted. When she dismounted beside the hitching post closest to the hotel's front door, they shifted to stand shoulder to shoulder. She didn't know the second man with Zeke, but recognized the third man with the gap between his teeth as Wade, who'd propositioned and then insulted her in the land office.

  Kate swallowed her fear and straightened her spine. No time like the present to prove she wasn't meek, nor would she allow herself to be intimidated.

  They watched quietly as she tied Nina's reins to the post. After she'd finished, Zeke smoothed back his bone-white hair and then broke the silence.

  "Sure is a fine filly you've got there, ma'am," he said, not even bothering to hide the smirk playing across his lips.

  "I agree," she replied, pushing aside the front of her coat just enough to reveal the knife strapped to her belt. Once Wade's low whistle let her know he'd seen what she'd purposely shown, she slid her coat back into place.

  "Sure am looking forward to working with her." Zeke tipped his hat in her direction. "And with you, for that matter."