by Gold, Ciara
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Kaitlin navigate the hall toward the kitchen. He grinned. He didn’t envy her job of cleaning.
“I’m sorry for the mess,” Maggie said. “Kaitlin finds it more comfortable to sew in here than in her own room.” Maggie rushed in ahead of them to pick up pieces of fabric scraps that littered the floor. When she’d cleared a path, she insisted they make themselves comfortable before scurrying off to help Kaitlin.
Charley made a beeline for the fireplace, while he took a moment to look around. He wanted to know more about the woman whom he planned to entrust with Charley’s care.
A less-than-tidy room met his eyes. A thin layer of dust coated the fixtures. Scraps of material littered the floor beside what looked to be a fairly new sewing machine. He wouldn’t call the room dirty. Messy was a better term. All in all, the room had a comfortable, lived-in feel to it. Decorated in cheery colors of rose and yellow, the room radiated love and warmth.
He fingered an unfinished peach dress draped over a chair in front of the sewing machine. Its design indicated Kaitlin’s creativity with needle and thread. She did good work. Hopefully, she’d want to teach these skills to Charley.
“She don’t keep house very well, does she?”
“’Pears to me she’s very creative and right handy with a needle and thread. All things a young woman should know.”
“Not me.”
“Charley, don’t start.”
“I don’t want to stay with her. I want to stay with you.” Charley’s plea revealed such vulnerability, making it difficult for Bryce to follow through with his plan. With great determination, he pulled away from the fear and hurt in Charley’s luminous eyes. He’d come this far. He had to see this through for Charley’s sake, as well as his own.
“But Charley, she’s your family, and she might want to get to know you. ’Sides, if she’ll agree to let you stay on for a spell, I can start courtin’ Emma. If you and Kaitlin don’t get along, you’ll still have a home with me. Hopefully, I’ll be taking a wife back with us, so there’ll be a woman around who can teach you things.”
“If it’s about those pranks, I’ll quit. I promise. In fact, you won’t even know I’m around.” Huge, luminous brown eyes appealed to his heart. “I’ll be so quiet.”
“A working ranch full of men isn’t a place for a young lady.”
“Your sister didn’t seem to have no trouble growing up there.”
“Julia had no choice.”
“Please, Bryce. I don’t want to stay here. I want to stay with you.” Her bottom lip jutted forward in a pout. “Besides, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
“Look, honey. I’d keep you with me in a heartbeat if’n I thought it’d be the best thing, but it ain’t. I’ve got no wife, no female in my life who can teach you the things you need to know. It’s important you let me have some time, so I can remedy the situation. I can’t go courtin’ with a child underfoot.”
She stomped her foot. “I’m not a child.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
At eleven, she hadn’t yet blossomed into a woman. He wanted to think of her as the cute button who used to follow him around, and not the mischievous brat she’d grown into. A kid her age should be able to take on a certain amount of responsibility, but not Charley. No, she’d instigated one too many pranks for him to trust her to stay home alone.
Charley settled down on the settee and glowered at him. He shook his head. Why on earth had Bethany named him the girl’s guardian? But he knew the answer. He had loved Charley as if she were his own.
Trying to take his mind off Charley, he meandered about the room. As he studied the decor, he ran across the pile of mail. Absently, he thumbed through the stack in search of his own letter. Finding one with his return address, he set it aside.
Meanwhile, Charley began to relax, and her eyes looked heavy. Traveling must have worn her out. He yawned. He could do with a nap himself, but he had more errands to attend to before dark, and he had no idea how long it would take Kaitlin and Maggie to return from the kitchen.
As expected, Charley curled up on the settee and fell asleep. Bryce pulled his trench coat off the hall tree and draped it over the sleeping child. Since Charley could no longer be counted on for company, he prowled the room in search of a diversion from his boredom. Spying a newspaper on one of Kaitlin’s fancy end tables, he settled into an armchair and proceeded to read about the local politics.
He read one article and started another before his eyes grew heavy. He blinked, trying to concentrate. The ticking of the mantle clock beat a monotonous tune. Its rhythmic cadence lulled him. His head fell to his chest, and the newspaper floated to the floor.
A loud crash jarred him awake.
His heart thudded in his chest. Disoriented, he gazed about unfamiliar surroundings. What had disturbed his sleep? Blinking, he tried to remember where he was. He drew for his gun, but his hand met empty space. Not there. Irritated, he recalled hanging his gun belt on the hall tree under his hat.
A dead quiet descended. He jumped up. Rounding the corner of the parlor, he found the entryway floor littered with shards of glass. A fist-sized rock sat in the center of the debris. He picked up the rock. Around its girth was a note tied with twine.
His gaze shot to the broken window. A figure retreated by foot down the street toward town. Rushing back into the parlor, he snatched the coat from Charley’s prone figure and grabbed his hat and gun belt. He shoved the rock into his pocket. Running out the front door, his boot met a patch of packed snow. He slipped and landed hard on his backside.
Ignoring the pain, he scrambled to his feet just in time to see the fleeing figure turn a corner at the end of the street. He debated chasing the man on foot, but decided he might have a better chance at catching him if he took Burlap.
In record time, he galloped down the street and turned the same corner. He caught a glimpse of green and paused. His quarry stood at the end of the street. The man turned for a split second.
Bryce drew his gun. “Stop.”
The vermin tipped his hat, a challenge if Bryce ever saw one. Fleet of foot, the man darted down an alleyway. Taking careful aim at the ground, Bryce shot out a warning. Burlap pranced about, skittish from the unexpected noise.
The man jumped a fence, turned the corner, and disappeared. Bryce yanked on the reins, unable to go any farther on horseback. By the time he dismounted, the villain had disappeared. With a groan of frustration, Bryce holstered his gun and remounted. For a long time he stared at the spot where he’d last seen the fleeing man.
Man? The varmint appeared younger than he’d first thought. Small, he could have passed for a boy or even a young woman. Bryce frowned. He could well imagine a boy throwing a rock through a window as a prank.
He fished around in his pocket and pulled out the stone with the note still attached. Finding his pocketknife, he sliced through the twine. The rock fell from his grasp, and he held the letter at an angle he could read.
You’ve ignored previous warnings. Maybe this one will carry more weight. Leave Denver or else.
He mulled over the harsh words. Previous warnings? His eyes widened. The handwriting seemed familiar. Some of the addresses on Kaitlin’s mail had been written in a similar hand. He recalled her aversion to mail. Had she received other such messages?
He glanced down the alley. At least he’d gotten a look at the culprit. Finding the nameless skunk might prove difficult in a town the size of Denver, but Bryce could be patient. He enjoyed solving mysteries, and for the moment, he had nothing but time on his hands. His brother William wasn’t expecting him home for another two months.
Compelled by his need to help, he made a conscientious decision then and there to find the man behind these threats.
But another thought stopped him in his tracks. Charley.
Dagnapit, what am I going to do about Charley?
He couldn’t leave her like he planned. Not now. Not if it meant
she’d be in danger. And with Charley underfoot, how in tarnation could he court Emma?
He let out a long sigh and watched his breath steam in the cold air. With a heavy heart, he turned around and headed back to Kaitlin’s house.
“What am I gonna do, Burlap?”
The horse snorted. Bryce sighed. The gentle motion of the horse’s gait soothed his thoughts. Kaitlin’s almond eyes flashed in his memory. He hated the idea of any woman being exposed to danger. But Kaitlin appeared to be the self-reliant type. She’d impressed him with her dauntless conduct in the face of her rather humbling incident. None of the women he knew would have reacted with such calm.
As independent as she appeared, she’d probably rebuff any help he offered. He pulled his coat tighter against his neck. Call it a quirk of his, but a deep protectiveness stole over him. He wanted to catch the man or men responsible for her difficulties.
How could he follow through with his original intentions? How could he leave Charley with Kaitlin? He shook his head, a self-derisive gesture aimed at the hopelessness of the situation. Hopeless unless...unless he offered Kaitlin his protection.
His lip curled into a smile. He could just imagine Miss Kanatzer’s reaction to his proposition. A spinster who fought for women’s rights wouldn’t care for a man’s interference. The more he thought about it, the more determined he became. He loved Charley with all his heart and he meant to do right by her. She needed the loving attention of a woman, and Kaitlin was family.
He spurred Burlap into a faster gait. He knew exactly what he had to do. And Kaitlin would have little say in the matter.
Two
Kaitlin gathered her molasses-saturated skirt close to her body and trudged the short distance to the kitchen. No matter how hard she tried to avoid making a larger mess, a black trail of goo followed in her wake. If they’d lived out in the country, a bath on the back porch would have been preferable, but such was not an option here in town. She and Maggie gave the neighbors enough gossip without adding more.
With a grimace, she tried to unbutton the front of her dress, but her gummy fingers couldn’t manage.
“Here. Let me help.” Maggie entered the kitchen and came to her aid. She took charge and worked the rest of the buttons free.
“Wanna tell me who Bethany was?” Maggie asked but kept her attention on the row of buttons she was undoing.
“My sister.”
“Your sister? You never told me you had a sister.” Maggie reeled as if slapped.
“I don’t.”
“But...”
“Bethany was dead to the family long before Mr. Stanton decided to bring me news of her death.” It was not a topic she really wanted to discuss.
“Oh.”
The dress fell to the ground. The ruined garment would have to be discarded. Such waste left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Help me with this corset.”
“Kaitlin. You can’t ignore the fact she was your sister.” Maggie’s fingers picked at the tight cord holding the corset in place. “You must feel something.”
Kaitlin sighed. She should feel remorse over Bethany’s passing. But Bethany had disappointed her family on more than one occasion. “Bethany left the family when she was fourteen. Do you know how she made her living? She worked in a saloon, and she served the men a tad more than just drinks.”
Maggie’s fingers stilled. “Are you going to hold that against the child?”
She squeezed her eyelids tight. She’d come to the same conclusion. “No.”
Maggie yanked the loosened corset down over Kaitlin’s hips, her actions less than gentle. Kaitlin frowned, but made no comment. Maggie stepped back, and Kaitlin peeled the pantaloons and stockings from her legs.
A cozy fire combated the wintry temperatures. Naked, she started to step into the hipbath then scowled. Goose bumps sprouted upon her skin.
“What’s wrong?”
Her teeth clattered. “It’s cold.”
“Well, it was warm earlier. Just climb in. I’ll heat up more water for you. You’ll need the warmth just to loosen up that thick syrup.”
She shivered and forced her body into the not-so-warm bath, while Maggie filled another kettle and put it on the stove.
“So, what did you think of Mr. Stanton?” Maggie returned to Kaitlin’s side and plucked the hair pins from her hair.
“What do you mean?”
“Right handsome fellow, if you ask me.”
“For a bean pole, perhaps. And besides, nobody asked you, did they?”
“Don’t get snippy with me, miss. You forget, I’m your closest friend, and I saw how you reacted when you first opened the door and found him standing there. You stiffened up like a baked brick and just stared at him. When he chuckled, you got all snooty. You never act like that. You’re usually the model for genteel manners. ’Pears to me, that man caught more than your ire, and you don’t know what to make of it.”
“Playing matchmaker again?” She grabbed a bar of soap and lathered her skin and hair.
“No, I wouldn’t dare. I know how you feel about men in general, but you can’t deny something about that man appealed to you.” Maggie lifted a bucket of clean water and poured it over Kaitlin’s hair.
Kaitlin decided to ignore Maggie’s observation. Her immediate reaction to Bryce Stanton was of little consequence. So what if she found him attractive? Just because she never planned to marry didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a handsome man when one crossed her path. She hugged her body and shivered. “So what happened to that warm water you promised?”
“You never did have any patience.” Maggie checked the kettle then used a dishtowel to lift it from the stove.
Kaitlin sighed when the hot liquid warmed her bath. She closed her eyes and thought of Bryce. When she had opened the door to find him standing there, her whole body seemed to tense with sudden awareness. But when he reached out and touched her cheek, she froze. Watching him lick the molasses off his finger in a seemingly innocent gesture ignited images within her imagination that were highly improper. The sooner the man left, the better off she would be.
“I wonder how he ended up with Bethany’s daughter. She called him ‘Uncle Bryce’. Maybe Bethany married, and Bryce became her brother-in-law. Or maybe even a step-father.”
“Guess you ought to ask him.” Maggie poured more water over her hair.
“Hmm.”
“Looks like we got most of the molasses off. Why don’t you wrap up in a towel and sit while I dump and refill? It shouldn’t take me long.” Maggie held out a large towel that Kaitlin gratefully stepped into.
“I should help you.” She held the towel tighter against the sudden chill of the room.
“Nonsense. I can get this. You just sit and rest.”
Rest? It would be hard to relax with that man waiting in the parlor for her return. Stop thinking about him. She couldn’t understand her sudden fascination for the lanky cowboy. Rarely did a man turn her head so quickly, and certainly not some two-bit drifter.
What was she going to do about Charley? Keeping the girl would prove difficult. She knew next to nothing about children and even less about raising young ladies. Her lifestyle might not contribute to the girl’s overall welfare. She would just have to make Mr. Stanton understand exactly whom he planned to entrust with Charley’s care.
Maggie returned, interrupting Kaitlin’s troubled thoughts. Deciding she’d kept her surprise guests waiting long enough, she quickly finished her toilette.
The sound of shattering glass gave her a start. “Hurry and help me dress. Charley must have broken something.”
A few minutes later, Maggie and Kaitlin rounded the corner to enter the parlor. Charley sat on the settee, a forlorn, lost look upon her pretty face. Her hands twisted the hem of her dress. Kaitlin surveyed the room, but found Mr. Stanton to be strangely absent.
“Charley, where’s your uncle?”
“Gone,” she whispered. “He left me just like my momma did.”
G
one? Kaitlin and Maggie both ran for the front door at the same time. Maggie shrieked. They both skidded to an abrupt halt when their shoes crunched on broken glass.
“What in the world...” Maggie began only to be cut off by Kaitlin’s explosion of temper.
“That low down, good-for-nothing drifter brought us a child out of the blue and took off. He must have slammed the door in his rush to leave. But why leave us the girl, break our window, and vanish? It makes no sense. If I ever get my hands on that scoundrel, I’ll tell him a thing or two. He can’t just show up with a young girl and drop her off like that.”
Spent, Kaitlin turned on her heel and came face-to-face with Charley. The girl stared at her with eyes the size of gold nuggets. Kaitlin’s tirade died in the face of such hurt and disillusionment. She knew how her words must have sounded. She never meant to imply she didn’t want Charley. Never would she purposefully cause a child such pain.
“Well, look what you’ve done now.” Maggie’s admonishment only made her feel worse.
“Charley, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Truly. I was just airing my lungs. You’re more than welcome in this house.” Kaitlin held out her hands as if to take away the pain.
Charley’s gaze held Kaitlin’s before traveling upward to a point just below her hairline. In a flat, unemotional voice, Charley said, “You missed a spot.”
Complete silence followed Charley’s quiet observation. Kaitlin touched the drop of molasses and frowned. The damage to Charley had been done and would not be easily repaired. With a deep sigh, Kaitlin turned toward Maggie.
“Maggie, I’ll go fetch a policeman if you stay here with Charley. I think the authorities need to know about Mr. Stanton’s behavior, not to mention the damage to our front door.”
“I have a better idea.” Maggie gave her a very pointed look. “You stay here with your niece, while I go for the police.”
“Of—of course.”
Maggie shook her head, grabbed her coat, and sailed out the door before Kaitlin could call her back.
