Kaitlin's Silver Lining

by Gold, Ciara

  “Hello, dear.”

  The men erupted into guffaws of laughter at his meek reply.

  “Harvey, how could you? You know how I feel about these places.”

  “Aw, Sally. It ain’t what you think. I was just helping break the place in. It’s their grand opening, and Ben wanted me to come celebrate.”

  “Ben?” Another woman stepped into the bar and searched in earnest for her delinquent husband.

  The man beside Bryce gave him a nudge. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve gotta go. If I don’t side with my wife on this issue, I won’t eat for a month.” Slowly, others saw the wisdom in these words. One by one, the crowded saloon began to clear, leaving only the men who weren’t tied to an apron string.

  Bryce chuckled. The entire affair resembled a comedy of errors. He sauntered back to the bar and downed another shot. He would need the fortification for the lecture he expected to receive from Kaitlin when she learned of his presence. He laughed again, enjoying the irony of the moment.

  “Makes you wanna puke.” One of the bartenders, a large black man, moved to stand across the bar from Bryce and leaned his elbows on the bar.

  “What?”

  “The noise them infernal women is makin’. It’s drivin’ me to drink, but unfortunately I’m on duty. Name’s Jack. Jack Brewster. Don’t recall seeing you around here before.”

  The chanting and singing erupted in earnest, making it difficult for the folks inside to relax and enjoy their free time. He understood now why Kaitlin had been doused in molasses that first day. If he had a barrel right now, he’d douse her himself.

  “Bryce Stanton. Just got in a couple of days ago.”

  “Vistin’ then?”

  “Yep.” Bryce didn’t feel like elaborating.

  A bottle appeared next to him, and he glanced up. On the other side of him, Farley Kaufmann poured a fresh glass. Farley lifted the glass high when he finished. “Here’s to a successful first night at the Thirsty Sailor. Jade, come keep these boys company.”

  A buxom young woman in a short cancan dress and a feather boa around her neck looped an arm around Bryce’s. The calico queen made no secret as to her after-hour services. “You want help celebrating, cowboy?”

  He gave her a sideways glance. “I’d love to take you up on the offer, but the way my luck is goin’, you’re better off findin’ another customer.”

  She pouted. “You sure?”

  “Does a desert have sand?”

  She laughed, ran her boa against his cheek, and went in search of another fella to pester. Bryce smiled. He’d never been much on paying for services he could usually get for free.

  Bryce lifted his glass. “To the paradox known as women.”

  “To a pleasant evening. May it bury the lot of them in snow drifts outside,” Jack added.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Bryce said.

  “At least I don’t have to go home to that racket.” Farley filled his glass again.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Bryce snapped.

  “You tell me. You’re the one living with Kanatzer.” Farley set the bottle down with a thud.

  “You’re living with that termagant? She’s your woman, and you’re letting her get away with these shenanigans?” Jack gave him an incredulous look. The bartender stopped cleaning glasses to stare at him.

  Bryce shifted his weight. “Back where I come from, black folks tend to hold their tongues.”

  Jack laughed, clearly not offended by Bryce’s sarcasm. “Yessir, but this here’s a whole new world. I got me a prime spot of real estate, and I’m building a fancy hotel there. Gold tends to equalize men, gives them a dose of respectability. Colorado folk seem more accepting, less prejudiced. I’m doing right fine for myself, so it’s a good thing I ain’t back where you’re from.”

  “Jack’s one of our more outstanding citizens. In fact, he and I are part owners in this saloon,” Farley said with a tone that clearly said he’d been offended by Bryce’s remark. “You, on the other hand, are just visiting. You don’t have any roots here, which doesn’t give you much say in matters.”

  Bryce knew when to back down. He hadn’t meant anything by the comment. Personally, he had nothing against blacks, and he’d discovered a great respect for Maggie since coming to know her. The Double S employed three of the best black wranglers he’d ever come across. He’d rather keep company with them than some of the white folk he’d run into lately. He just didn’t like what Jack had said about Kaitlin and Maggie.

  “Quit snappin’ at me.” Bryce rested his elbows on the bar. “Turtles got more bite than the two of you. I’m just tryin’ to wind down after a particularly tryin’ day, same as everyone else in this place.”

  “Well, it’d be a mite more pleasant without those blasted suffragists screaming outside. You sure you can’t do nothing to shut Kaitlin up? You must have some hold over the woman, since you’re living with her.”

  “I don’t think I like what the two of you are implyin’ here.” The whiskey Bryce had just swallowed suddenly tasted old and flat, its fire put out by a few careless remarks. He already held a grudge against Farley for staking a claim on Emma. The man was clearly sporting for a fight. Bryce pushed the glass aside.

  “Not implying anything, friend.” Farley pushed the bottle toward Jack. “I’m telling you outright that you better shorten the reins on your girl before someone gets hurt.”

  “She’s not my girl.” Bryce clenched his teeth. Kaitlin’s stern image swam before his face. He grimaced. Everything about her was exactly what he didn’t want in a woman. She was quarrelsome, rigid, and had the kinkiest brown hair he’d ever seen. He liked his women blonde, soft-spoken, malleable, like Emma Hood had been. His hand tightened into a fist. Farley would make a great target for his frustration.

  The swinging doors pushed open with a resounding bang. The picketers pushed their way through. At the forefront marched Kaitlin, waving a wooden sign and singing loudly off-key. Someone thrust a flag in front, waving enthusiastically for all to see. So much for peaceable protest, Bryce thought.

  “Look, Uncle Bryce. Kaitlin let me hold the flag.” Charley’s soprano voice boomed above the noise of their infernal suffrage anthem.

  Bryce leapt from the bar and grabbed the flag from Charley and pulled her behind him. He turned to Kaitlin, his temper redirected. “What do you think you’re doin’?”

  Kaitlin stopped singing and lowered her sign. “Protesting.”

  “I can see that.” Anger made his blood boil. “Now, it’s my turn to protest. Charley has no business bein’ in a saloon full of drunks and calico queens. You had no right embroilin’ her in your fight.”

  “Are you saying I don’t know what’s best for my niece?”

  “Damn straight.”

  “It’s all right for you to use foul language and drink, but I can’t show her the evilness of alcohol?”

  “We ain’t debatin’ my morality here, Miss Kanatzer. We’re jawin’ about your lack of judgment.”

  The saloon became strangely quiet with the onset of their argument.

  “Lordy. I don’t think your woman likes being told what to do. No sir. She don’t like it at all.” Jack said from behind the bar.

  Kaitlin leaned forward, and pointed a finger in Bryce’s face. “Morality is the only issue here. You’re setting a bad example for this impressionable young lady. You should be ashamed of yourself, drinking and carousing instead of coming home to enjoy Charley’s company.”

  From behind, someone yelled out, “She needs another dose of molasses and oats.”

  “Naw. She needs a firm hand to her backside,” came more advice.

  “Come on, ladies,” Maggie instructed, holding another sign high. “Form a circle of support for our leader.”

  Bryce scanned the assembled group. Some of the men looked uncomfortable, like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Others looked downright furious that their private lair had been invaded. Bryce could
see things turning ugly.

  Dan Cochran and several other police officers entered the building. The appearance of the police made the women more testy. They began shouting their singsong chants, drowning the voices of those who would put an end to their protest.

  “Quiet! Let’s have order here!” Dan’s booming voice sounded over the den of noise. Both parties lowered their voices. Kaitlin and Farley approached Officer Cochran, both sporting determined faces.

  “I insist you put a halt to this madness,” Farley said.

  “Miss Kanatzer, this behavior is getting out of hand. Shouldn’t you be home doing needlepoint or baking cookies?”

  “Don’t you dare patronize me, Mr. Cochran. Our cause is just. I’m sure you can see we have a moral obligation to put a stop to the serving of hard liquor.”

  “I’m not going to argue ethics with you, ma’am, and I’m sure you think you’re right, but the law is on Mr. Kaufmann’s side. You can’t continue this harassment. I suggest you all go home. Otherwise, I’m obligated to take you to jail.”

  “Prison doesn’t frighten me.” Kaitlin held out her hands as if offering to wear handcuffs. “I’m sure tomorrow’s headlines describing our arrest will only aid our cause.”

  Dan shook his head. “Ma’am, I really don’t want to arrest you.”

  Bryce sympathized with Dan’s position on the matter. He even understood Farley’s side. The man just wanted to make a living, and Kaitlin and her suffragists had managed to damage his business. Bryce just didn’t want any of these ladies hurt, and he certainly didn’t want to see them jailed, but if something wasn’t done quick, they might as well all be sinking in quicksand.

  “Go wait outside, Charley.”

  “No.” Blonde curls bounced as she shook her head. “I wanna see what happens.”

  “Charley, I’ll buy you that new dress you’ve been wanting if you’ll just mind me on this. Please wait outside.”

  Charley beamed at him before skipping off to do as he’d asked. He probably shouldn’t have bribed her, but as always, it got the desired result. His gaze focused on Kaitlin, who’d begun singing again. Jack and Farley’s intense scrutiny singed his eyebrows. Kaitlin was not his problem, and yet, tonight, Jack and Farley’s comments had made him feel obligated to deal with this predicament. Kaitlin had become his responsibility the moment she’d opened her home to him.

  “Ladies, your fun is over.” Dan’s booming voice had little effect. “Go on home now. You’ve made your point.”

  “We are not leaving until Kaufmann and Brewster close for the night.” Kaitlin pounded the end of the sign on the floor.

  Bryce tapped Dan on the shoulder. It was time to rope a few calves. “I’ll take care of Kaitlin for you. Once she’s out of the picture, I imagine the rest will leave peaceable.”

  But how on earth was he going to haul her out of here along with Maggie and Charley?

  As if the man read his mind, Jack stood at his side. “Need some help?”

  “I reckon I do.” Whatever happened, he didn’t want to insight a riot.

  “If it’ll get rid of this herd, I’ll do what I can. Farley can take care of the bar for a while.”

  “Grab your coat and hat and grab mine while you’re at it. You’ll find ’em on the second peg. We’re about to escort the two ringleaders home.”

  Jack eyed Maggie, an odd twinkle in his eye. “I likes the sound of that.”

  A few moments later, Bryce slipped into his trench coat, put on his gloves and jammed on his hat. With his eye still on the singing women, he motioned to Jack. Jack eased his way closer to Maggie and waited for Bryce’s signal. Bryce nodded.

  The singing came to an abrupt halt when Bryce grabbed Kaitlin. He threw her over his shoulder and an indignant puff of air grazed his ear. Jack followed his lead, securing Maggie in a similar fashion. Amidst catcalls, hoots, and laughter, Bryce and Jack exited the saloon with their squirming bundles. Shocked into silence, the rest of the women stood frozen. Bryce expected that, without their leaders to egg them on, they would soon decide to call it a night.

  Bryce gave his horse a perplexed frown. The saddle would only accommodate one rider and he didn’t fancy perching on the horse’s rump even for the short ride to Kaitlin’s. Besides, he had Kaitlin, Maggie, and Charley to cart home. He turned when Jack tapped him on the shoulder. “I gots me a buckboard all hitched and ready to go. It’ll be better’n waitin’ for a streetcar. Just tell me where to go, and I’ll help you deliver these troublemakers. We can tie your horse to the back.”

  “Ow!” Bryce yelped. A sharp pain hit his ear. Kaitlin had reached around to yank his lobe. He grabbed her wrist and hefted her body so she dangled farther down his back, her backside nestled against his cheek. With a cry, she released his ear. Jack chuckled.

  Bryce narrowed his eyes. “Make it quick before I lose body parts in this deal.”

  “I think you gots the wildcat outta the deal. Mine’s a sight more docile than yours.” He patted Maggie’s backside and grinned.

  Bryce would have commented, but Kaitlin started kicking in earnest. He tightened his grip. “Kickin’ won’t get you anywhere unless you’re a mule, so quit your bellyachin’ back there.”

  “You let me down, Bryce Stanton.”

  He stumbled under the weight, cursing the pain in his right foot. He caught himself quick enough. Damn, but she wiggled more than a trussed up calf.

  Jack set Maggie on the ground. She straightened her skirts, looked up at the grinning man, and slapped him across the face.

  “That was for manhandling me without just cause.”

  Jack rubbed his cheek, worked his jaw, and grinned. “You’re my kind of woman, Maggie May. Yessiree, any woman that can wollup a punch like that has my total devotion.”

  She pursed her lips and stomped her foot. “Just get us home, Mr. Brewster. I think I’ve had enough adventure for one night.”

  “Yes’m. Right away.”

  Jack untied the reins of the lead horse and walked her around so the buckboard rested parallel with the sidewalk.

  Jack lifted Charley and set her in the middle of the seat. With the manners of a well-bred gentleman, he helped Maggie settle next to Charley. After making sure they were both comfortable, he tied Bryce’s horse to the wagon. Meanwhile, Bryce wiggled himself onto the back of the buckboard, still holding Kaitlin draped over his shoulder. He tipped his hat at Jack, indicating he and Kaitlin were all set. Jack climbed in and released the brake. The wagon lurched into motion, making Kaitlin squeal.

  Once under way, Bryce allowed Kaitlin to slide off his shoulder. She landed none too gently, her rump connecting with the wooden planks. He curled an arm around her waist and prepared for her retaliation, but when nothing happened he turned his head to look at her. She had her hands folded around herself, warding off a bitter cold magnified by the moving wagon.

  “Don’t you ever, ever do that to me again.”

  “Or else?” Bryce kinda liked the way her puckered lips accentuated the dimple in her left cheek.

  “When we get back to the house, I want you to pack your bags.” She elbowed his stomach, and he grunted. “You can find another place to stay.”

  Bryce made no comment. He didn’t feel like carrying on this conversation in the back of a rolling wagon. He glanced back and noticed a blanket behind the seat. Worming his way backward, he retrieved the blanket. Without her permission, he wrapped his hands around her and pulled her back. The front of the wagon bed provided a better wind block. With their backs to the seat, he draped the blanket over them both.

  Kaitlin shivered. He drew her to him, draping his arm around her shoulder for added warmth. When she tried to pull away, he pulled her closer. “Kaitlin, that coat you have on wouldn’t keep a bear warm. I only mean to share my body heat.”

  Stiff as a board, she rested within the circle of his arms. Soon, she began to relax. Damn, she felt good nestled against his body like she belonged. She was like a porcupine—sharp and unapproachab
le until she laid her needles back. Like this, she was soft and all woman.

  He tightened his hold, enjoying her docile acceptance of his warmth and wondering what it might be like to have her really thawed. Given Kaitlin’s rigid, unapproachable manner, he would probably never find out. It was just as well. With Emma spoken for, he needed to find another woman to fill his need for a wife. The sooner he began his search, the better. A dalliance with the suffragist, Kaitlin Kanatzer, seemed out of the question.

  Nine

  “We’re here, Mr. Stanton. You can let go now,” Kaitlin snapped, more angry with herself than with him. Warmth wasn’t the only feeling she’d experienced when his arms wrapped around her.

  He obeyed without comment. Immediately, her body reacted to the loss of heat. She shivered. Her gaze focused on the house, and its familiarity gave her comfort against the unfamiliar emotions assaulting her senses. She smiled, thinking of the moment she’d bought the white, two-story structure framed in black molding and shutters. All told, five years of hard work had gone into the down payment, but the money had been well spent. Ruining her father’s plans made it all worthwhile. The house represented her successful demonstration of independence.

  She frowned. The heavy oak door stood ajar. Foreboding snapped Kaitlin out of her angry thoughts. She could have sworn she’d pulled it closed before leaving for the evening. Frustrated with herself, she jumped off the wagon first. Her neglect meant a very chilly abode. She started for the house, intent on stoking the fires.

  “Kaitlin! Wait!”

  She turned, glaring at Bryce, her lips pursed into a thin line. “Say what you want, Mr. Stanton, but I meant what I said earlier. I want you out of here tonight.”