Tainted Dreams

by Christi Corbett

  All to no avail.

  Jake hadn't shown his face, and once she was finally truthful with herself, she didn't blame him. She'd been so focused on convincing him of all Theodore was doing to earn her legal right to her claim, she'd all but scoffed at everything Jake had done. All the time he'd spent away from his own land, helping her so she could thrive on hers.

  If only she'd focused instead on Jake. On telling him how she considered his company much more than a comforting break in the dull routine of her workdays. How much she missed his witty banter, handsome grin, and gentle touch. How much she longed for him to appear at her door for a short visit, or better yet, to stay forever. And most of all, how much she loved him.

  Kate lowered the beautiful dress to the floor, stepped inside, and pulled it up. To her consternation, fastening it was no longer a breath-holding, spine-twisting struggle.

  She needed to take better care of herself. Sew a sturdy coat to replace her patched, threadbare one, cook regular meals, sleep longer, and at least attempt to squelch some of the misery that came from missing Jake so badly her heart ached.

  A hard knock at her door interrupted her fanciful thoughts.

  Kate tensed, envisioning Claude on the other side, eviction paperwork in hand. Several deep breaths later she headed for the door, reasoning that even a man like Claude wouldn't force her from her land on Christmas Eve.

  She pulled the door open. To her relief, she saw only Theodore.

  "Hello! Come in!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm due more to the fact neither Claude nor a crowd of angry men waving fiery torches were standing on her porch, rather than actual happiness at seeing Theodore.

  "Thank you." He slipped past her, then stood in the middle of her room, holding a lumpy package the size of a stack of dinner plates.

  "To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit?" she asked, already hoping he wouldn't stay long.

  "I come bearing a gift."

  She reached out a tentative hand and took the package from him. "You didn't have to get me anything."

  "Kate, I share my fortunes with those I care about." His serious expression changed into a childlike grin of pleasure. "Besides, it's Christmas."

  She sat on a chair and placed the package on her lap. After she untied the twine and pushed back the paper, she gasped to see a luxurious cloak made of wool that had been dyed a deep green. The inside was lined with brown velvet, and braided brown cording had been meticulously stitched along the entire bottom edge. It must have cost him a small fortune.

  "Theodore, I don't know what to say. I can't accept such finery from—"

  "Clara said the color would compliment the red in your hair perfectly." Theodore slid the cloak from her fingers and held it aloft until it unfurled before her. "Let's see if it's true."

  Slowly, she rose.

  Theodore settled the material over her shoulders, fastened the silver clasp at her throat, then stepped back to give her an appraising gaze. "It seems Clara was right."

  "It's lovely," Kate said, "but I—"

  "Clara and I couldn't bear thinking of you out here alone during the cold winter nights." He nodded toward the dwindling fire. "The wool will keep you warm."

  "It does get cool at night," she agreed weakly. Was the gift from Clara, or Theodore?

  He smoothed a wrinkle from one of the folds of fabric, then patted her on the shoulder. "I thought you might need it on our ride into town for the Christmas Eve service."

  She sank into her chair, shaking her head. "I couldn't possibly go."

  "Why?"

  Kate bowed her head. "I don't expect I'm welcome there these days."

  "Nonsense." Theodore snorted. "If you're on my arm, you'll have nothing to fear. Besides, Clara is the one who sent me to get you. She would have come herself, but her knee has been bothering her enough to make riding problematic."

  Theodore raised his eyebrows and a mischievous grin flitted across his lips. "Now, are you going to make an old woman's day and attend church, or am I to come back empty-handed and watch her cry?"

  Kate relented. She did want to go to the service, and seeing Clara again was the deciding factor.

  "I suppose we can't have Clara upset, now can we?"

  Chapter Fifty-One

  A Stunning Confirmation

  Jake stepped into the church and squeezed himself into the last open seat at the end of the back row. He was grateful for everyone's effort at putting together a Christmas Eve service. The church building was lit up with nearly a hundred candles and lamps, and their glowing flames reflected a crowd of almost as many shining faces.

  According to Travers, organizers had worried over whether the preacher would arrive in time, and whether anyone would venture from their far-flung claims to attend, but based upon the sheer amount of people now gathered to celebrate the birth of their savior, it seemed all the worry had been for nothing.

  Was Kate there?

  Jake's gaze skimmed over the crowds of bystanders who'd arrived too late to gain seating and were standing shoulder to shoulder along the outer walls. When he didn't see her, he focused on the seated guests, evaluating the backs of their heads row by endless row. Thankfully, he was tall.

  Minutes later, Jake sighed with relief when he finally recognized Kate's familiar brown hair with hints of red. She had come!

  He'd spent the past week weighing his last moments with her and come to the conclusion he'd been unfair. She'd had to break the law just to learn the location of her claim, so it was little wonder she'd be willing to do almost anything to keep it, even garner advice from Theo. He knew firsthand what a liar and manipulator Theo was, yet he'd taken his word as gospel when he'd said he was courting her. Jake had berated himself countless times for never actually asking her about her feelings toward Theo and instead jumping to conclusions. For all he knew, she couldn't stand the man.

  At the preacher's instruction, everyone rose to sing several hymns. Jake especially enjoyed "Amazing Grace", a favorite for both the message it gave believers and because the low notes were easier for him to sing.

  When the songs were over and guests began again taking their seats, Jake finally caught an unimpeded view of Kate—and the familiar man sitting next to her; the man whispering into her ear, earning himself an endearing smile from her in return; the man sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

  The man was Theo.

  Jake's world came to a sudden, unmistakable, crashing halt. His vision blurred and he had trouble catching his breath. He felt dizzy and wanted more than anything to get away, but he was trapped in place by the crush of people crowded around the end of his pew and clustered in the doorway. The exit was completely blocked, so even if he managed to squeeze his way out of his seat, aside from shoving people aside or walking on their shoulders, he was stuck.

  He sat numbly through the rest of the service. When the preacher signaled it was over, he was the first to rise. It did no good; he had to wait while the masses around him swept out of the pews in laughing, hugging, joyful waves. Frozen with disbelief, he allowed himself to be propelled along in the surge toward the door.

  Then, as he reached the entryway, he saw Theo.

  The man was reaching to grab a green cloak from one of the many coats crowded on the metal hooks near the door. As he pulled it down and draped it over his arm, he turned and caught Jake's eye. After putting two fingers against his forehead in a mock salute, Theo smirked and disappeared back into the church.

  Instead of fleeing, Jake stumbled backward into the corner, driven by an involuntary need to see Kate up close with Theo by her side. He had to know for certain; he had to see for himself that she would choose such a man.

  Minutes later, he watched in silence as she appeared in the entryway, wearing the same green cloak he had seen Theo pull from the hooks. He slumped against the wall as Theo put his hand at the small of her back to usher her through the waves of people trying to leave through the single doorway.

  K
ate had made her choice. It was over.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  A Gift Reconsidered

  Kate fumed the entire ride back to her house.

  Not only had Theodore misled her about Clara attending the service, he'd spent the entire time whispering in her ear, distracting both her and the other guests. He'd been intolerably rude, and she'd refused to answer any of his questions or respond to any of his comments. Since admonishing him would have attracted undue attention, she'd opted to give only tight smiles in the hopes of dissuading him from further interruptions. No such luck. By the end of the service she'd been so furious she'd just wanted him to escort her to her house and then leave. She wanted to be done with him. Forever.

  As they rounded the corner and her house came into sight, she breathed a sigh of relief. "The preacher's service was enlightening," she said, mainly to break up the silence as they rode the last quarter mile to her house.

  "I guess so," Theodore replied. "He could have shortened it up by cutting out those songs, though."

  "Too bad Jake couldn't make it," Kate said.

  "Probably for the best," Theodore replied. "A ruffian like him isn't suited for social situations."

  The cloak clasp pressed against her neck and she wished yet again she hadn't accepted such an elaborate gift. The only thing keeping her from wadding it up and tossing it onto his saddle was the slim chance it was indeed from Clara.

  When they reached her house, Theodore dismounted. "I'll wait here while you put Nina up for the night."

  "You've been more than generous with your time already; there's no need to wait for me. I manage fine on my own."

  "I insist," he said in a tone that wouldn't accept otherwise. "Your safety is my primary concern, so I won't hear of my leaving until after I've made a thorough check of your house."

  Kate let out a heavy sigh, declining to point out the obvious issue of him neglecting to check the barn she was heading to, alone.

  This man was so different from Jake and how he'd treated her, protected her with his every action. On the trail there'd been several instances when he'd adamantly put her first over his needs, and oftentimes his safety—when he'd gone out in a thunderstorm in search of Old Dan, when she'd fallen off a cliff and he'd climbed down after her, and most memorably when he'd warmed her by the fire when they'd spent the night in the cave.

  Kate secured Nina in the barn and then returned to her house. She silently passed Theodore where he waited on the porch, shoved open her door, and then blocked the doorway.

  "Thank you for a nice evening," she said, the words more a result of the manners drilled into her over the years by her aunt than a reflection of her true feelings.

  "Aren't you going to invite me in?" He frowned and cupped his hands around his mouth, blowing to warm them. "I'd like to heat up by the fire for a few minutes before I go."

  Kate acquiesced, reasoning that he'd be back on his way in less than ten minutes.

  He followed her inside, removed his coat, folded it so the sleeves were perfectly aligned, and then draped it over the back of the closest chair. He then settled himself in the other chair and watched while she stirred the coals and began to build up the fire. Within minutes flames danced and crackled and their warmth began chasing the chill from the house.

  "You shouldn't have to do such filthy work, Kate."

  "I don't mind. I'm used to it now."

  He rose and walked to stand beside her at the hearth. "It hasn't escaped my attention that you've never answered my marriage proposal. I've been patient. I gave you time out here, thinking you would come to your senses and realize what I have to offer. The life I can provide for you. For us."

  "No," she said, then shook her head for emphasis.

  "Perhaps I haven't been clear." He curled his fingers around her wrist. "I'm a successful businessman, and my wealth can provide you with anything your heart desires, starting with getting you out of this hovel." He looked around in distaste, then uttered a laugh that was more cruel than kind. "What more could you ask for in a husband?"

  "I want the love of a good man, not money and things." She yanked her wrist free, gritted her teeth, and headed for the door. "I don't want you intervening with the land office or the Provisional Government anymore on my behalf. I don't trust you."

  Theodore's quick strides brought him across the room to tower over her in less than two seconds. "Your trust doesn't concern me."

  Kate opened the cloak's clasp, slid the material off her shoulders, and held it out before her. "I can't accept this. Please, take it and leave my house."

  "Your house?" A smirk played across his lips and she shuddered at the menacing tone that had crept into his voice. "We both know that isn't exactly the truth."

  She held the cloak higher. "Take it and leave."

  "Don't ever disrespect me by being ungrateful for a gift." He grabbed her forearm with one hand, seized her hair with the other, and then pulled her so close his face was inches from her own. Tears sprang to her eyes and she tried to cry out, but was crippled by fear.

  "One way or another you're leaving this claim. Claude can send you to jail for fraud, or you can marry me." He let her free so fast she collapsed in a heap on the floor. "I'll see you again soon," he said, straightening his clothes with a few brisk movements. "In the meantime, I'm certain you'll see the wisdom in reconsidering my offer."

  He picked up his coat and walked out the door.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  A Cornered Wildcat

  Tuesday, December 26, 1843

  Kate heard them before she saw them.

  She'd just finished tidying up from breakfast and was sitting on the hearth, getting ready to sew another patch on her coat when she heard the first bang against her door. She'd had only enough time to grab her father's rifle, crawl under the bed, and pull her saddlebags in front of her before the door gave way with a splintering crack.

  "Finally," muttered a deep voice she couldn't place. "I didn't think I'd have to give that door so many kicks. It's sturdier than it looked."

  "Let's get to it then," said another voice.

  Kate hid like a cornered animal and listened as two men began ransacking her house. At first, anger flickered to life and her finger tensed on the rifle's trigger. However, after a moment of consideration, she decided she wasn't confident in her ability to kill both men before they could turn on her. And since no one could hear her if she screamed, she stayed motionless and powerless to do anything to stop the systematic destruction of all she'd created. Though her cheek was pressed hard against the chamber pot, she didn’t dare to move even a fraction of an inch for fear the noise would giveaway her location.

  They started in the kitchen, running knives across the bags of sugar and flour and laughing as the contents poured onto the floor. They tossed her plates, cups, and all her cookware into the fireplace. They shredded her tablecloth, upended her table and one kitchen chair, then stomped apart the other. After her mother's teapot was dropkicked across the room, their boot heels twisted each of the shattered pieces into powder. The pages of her family Bible were ripped from the spine and flung into the air.

  Fear kept back her tears as Kate watched two pairs of heavy boots cross the room and stop beneath where she'd lovingly hung her mother's portrait only two days ago.

  "Purty," drawled one of the men.

  Kate winced as she heard the telltale sounds of a knife piercing the canvas.

  "Where did she go? I was hoping to have a taste of something sweet."

  Kate's eyes widened as she finally placed the voice as belonging to Cyrus, her harasser from town.

  "Hey!" She now recognized Murray's voice booming across the cabin. "He ain't paying us to hurt her. Just to bust things up and scare her."

  Kate's eyes widened in disbelief. Who wanted her scared?

  Murray walked to the bed. She winced as she heard the sounds of knives ripping through her bedding, and seconds later the quilt from Clara was tossed to the floor, sh
redded to ribbons.

  "Reckon we ought'a mess with these clothes too?" Cyrus asked after kicking over the box that showcased her mother's silver mirror and her matching comb and brush set. Kate breathed a shallow sigh of relief to see the jewelry box merely fall to the floor, unopened.

  "He said destroy everything except that green thing," Murray replied.

  They cut into the maroon dress from Jake first, followed by the two she'd never bothered washing since they were far too sophisticated for daily wear. They ripped holes into her pink calico she'd taken such pride in creating, and Clara's purple-and-gold rag rug. The straw tick was opened with one quick slice, and they spent several minutes scattering grass and the feathers from her pillow across the floor.

  Murray stood in the center of the room and snickered. "That ought'a earn our pay."

  "We headin' to the barn to tear it up some?" Cyrus asked.

  "Nah, we're only supposed to do the house."

  Kate was grateful she'd left her knife in the barn, along with her father's pistol and his hat.

  "Let's get out of here before anyone gets nosy," Murray said. "Especially the one he warned us about."

  "Who, Fitzpatrick? He don't scare me none."

  "Me neither, but let's get out of here anyway."

  The men stomped through the splintered door, but Kate didn't dare move until long after she heard their horses' hooves pounding along the hillside. Only then did she slowly uncurl herself and crawl out from under the bed to evaluate the damage.

  The house was still standing, but everything inside was destroyed.

  Everything except the cloak.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Distractions

  Jake spent his morning the same way he'd spent Christmas Day—lying on his bedroll, staring at the white box with the slim gold ring nestled inside.

  He'd lost her.