Kaitlin's Silver Lining

by Gold, Ciara

  Dusk had muted the brightly painted building, giving it a pale lavender cast. Lanterns had been strung in front of some of the establishments, illuminating storefronts with a yellow glow. Many changes had occurred since her last visit.

  A healthy amount of gold had helped build the settlement into a nice sized town. Though no one had actually found large-scale veins, there were quite a few smaller mines scattered throughout the surrounding countryside. Like Denver, the town had chosen to band together, and the community now offered services other than those related to mining. It helped balance the economy, and as a result the town had grown. Idaho Springs would not become a ghost town anytime soon.

  She hated having to stop here, but riding through the night was not an option. They were both too weary to manage the treacherous roads ahead without the benefit of daylight. With three days worth of traveling still ahead, they had no choice but to rest when they could.

  “I hadn’t realized this town was so large,” Bryce commented as he returned. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your room.”

  He didn’t wait for her reply as he started to untie her saddlebags and valise from the horse. Once he had her personal items, he went to work retrieving his own. With both bags draped over each shoulder and the valise in his hand, he strode toward the front of the hotel.

  “I can carry my own bags.” Tired and saddle sore, Kaitlin needed to exert some authority.

  “Yep. I s’pect you can, but you look as limp as a possum playin’ dead. How long’s it been since you rode a horse?” He plowed through the front door, nodding at the doorman as he did so.

  “Two years. And I don’t think I like being compared to a possum.” She struggled to keep up with his long strides.

  Bryce chuckled, alleviating some of the tension between them. “You’re right, ma’am. There ain’t nothin’ bald about your tail, and your eyes are much too wide to be considered beady. Yep, you’re not anything like a possum ’cept maybe a little around the mouth when you get that persnickety look.”

  She untied her bonnet, rolled it up then yanked off his Stetson and swatted him over the head.

  “Ouch!” He ducked and clutched at the sliding bags that wobbled on his shoulders. “What was that for?”

  She placed the hat back on top of his head. It rested a bit crookedly as opposed to before, but she felt much better now that she’d retaliated. “For making things more complicated than they need to be.”

  He gave her a hard look and inclined his head toward the stairway. “You lead. After getting’ whacked, I don’t feel comfortable with you behind me.”

  Kaitlin smiled at the way he looked, the crooked hat in direct contrast to his stern features. She headed up the stairs, her heart less heavy with the burdens that faced her. When she reached the top, she caught sight of two young maids dragging a copper tub through the door of one of the rooms.

  “I ordered you a bath. Figured you’d wanna freshen up some before dinner.” Bryce followed her inside the room where the two maids chattered like magpies.

  Bryce set the saddlebags on top of the bed. “I’ll come fetch you in an hour. That should give you time to bathe and change clothes before we eat. I’ve gotta take care of the horses.”

  Kaitlin nodded, distracted by the thought of a warm soothing bath, just what she needed for her sore muscles. As soon as Bryce left, she unpacked her belongings. She laid out the only dress she’d brought along, and shook the wrinkles free. When the maids had finished setting out towels and soap, they inquired if she needed assistance. Absently, Kaitlin shook her head, preferring to be alone for a long, leisurely soak. Thank goodness she’d refrained from donning her corset, thinking she’d be more comfortable riding without the constricting item.

  Once the ladies had left, she quickly stripped out of her riding habit and draped it over the back of the chair. Though dusty, she would have to wear it for the rest of the ride out to the Silver Saddle Ranch. Her undergarments landed on the floor next to the chair.

  She sighed as she settled into the steamy water. Leaning her head back, she allowed the bath to work its magic. Her lips curved into a smile when she thought of Bryce’s reaction to her appearance. He’d been downright angry. Her smile quickly turned to a frown. James Latham had tried to kill her. She shivered. The fiend would not have acted without direction from someone, but whom? Who wanted her dead? Bryce suspected someone from her past. Kaitlin knew differently. While she and Sarge had their differences, her father would never conspire to murder. No—the threats and the attempt on her life had to be politically driven. She and her band of suffragists had riled someone in power.

  She gazed about the interior of the room, trying to take her mind off worrisome matters. Her eyes settled on her valise then widened as they lit on Bryce’s bag.

  Why would Bryce leave his bag beside hers on the bed? He should have taken it to his own room. A smidgen of foreboding caused goose bumps to form. She wrapped her arms tight about her body. Surely, Bryce had secured his own room. Of course, he had. He was many things, but he’d always been a gentleman. Well, except for the time he criticized her activities or the time he’d almost kissed her but hadn’t. Or the time he’d coaxed her into asking for a kiss. She sat up straighter in the tub and rubbed her arms. Not only that, but he’d just compared her to an ugly, old possum. He could be a gentleman when he wanted, but she had firsthand experience with Bryce, the rogue.

  She glared at the saddlebag, daring the inanimate object to give her the answer she sought. When none was forthcoming, she forced herself to recline once more. Worrying about whether or not the man secured his own room was pointless. If he hadn’t, he could sleep in the barn with the horses.

  Twenty

  “So you say you left a dead body back a ways?” A rather short man claiming to be a Colorado Mounted Ranger scratched his head and spit brown saliva into a can. Bryce thought he remembered the man calling himself Luck.

  “Yes, sir. I believe I’ve stated that fact more than once now,” Bryce said, frustrated with Luck’s inability to grasp what he was saying.

  “Any idea as to the man’s identity?”

  “I think he was James Latham.”

  “His name don’t ring no bell.” Luck wiped his chin with the back of a dirty cuff. “And you say he’s dead?”

  “Yep, dead.”

  “Well, I’ll ride out tomorrow and take a look see. Ain’t no use in doing it tonight. You sure he was dead, now?”

  “Very dead. He definitely passed in his chips.”

  “Reckon if you told me everything, we can consider it self-defense.” He rocked back on his heels and hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “I’ll file my report that way. Where will you be if I need to get in touch with you?”

  Bryce shook his head, not really sure. “I’m escortin’ Miss Kanatzer to Oresonville, but I’m not sure where we’ll be once we get there.”

  “Is that the young lady that was shot at?”

  Was the man dense or cagey? He’d already told Luck about the attempt on Kaitlin’s life. Perhaps, Luck hoped Bryce would slip up on the story. Whatever the reason, he was too tired for this nonsense, so he merely nodded. “Yep, Latham tried to kill her.”

  “Kanatzer you say? Any relation to ole Sarge?”

  He cocked his head to the side, tipped his hat back, and gave the ranger a quizzical look. “Sarge from Oresonville?”

  “Reckon everyone knows ole Sarge. Sarge Kanatzer owns the biggest cattle spread in these here parts. And you say your friend is Kaitlin Kanatzer? I can’t say I remember no Kaitlin, but then I ain’t originally from around these here parts.”

  Bryce barely heard the question. Sarge Kanatzer? Was he family? Or was he her husband? He felt a cold knot grip his stomach. How could she kiss him like that and be married? He refocused his gaze. “Where exactly can I find this ranch?”

  “Best look out for Sarge. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side,” Luck warned before giving him vague directions to Sarge’s property
. “Like I said, I’ll file the report in the morning. I wouldn’t worry none too much about it. This Latham character is dead, so he can’t hurt your lady friend no more. At any rate, reckon we’ll never know why he took a shot at her.”

  “I appreciate all your help,” Bryce said, shaking the man’s hand.

  He doubted the ranger would be of any further use. It was doubtful the body would still be there tomorrow. Likely, some varmint would drag it off and make a tasty meal of it. If the body had landed closer to the road, Bryce would have attempted hauling him in for a decent burial, but as it was, it would have been too dangerous. Although he was relieved that the ranger accepted his story, he wasn’t so sure Kaitlin was safe. Too many loose ends hinted at more trouble.

  After his visit to the law, Bryce marched down to a bathhouse that advertised the full works for just a dollar. With the strenuous day he’d had, he was more than ready for a healthy soak in a tub full of sudsy water and a little grooming from the local barber.

  He hung his gun belt within easy reach should he need it, and proceeded to shed his filthy clothes. The shirt fell from his shoulders. Reaching for the fastening of his pants, he realized he’d left his saddlebags in the room. He looked at the attendant, a perplexed frown upon his face.

  “You know where I might buy me some clean clothes this time of night?” Bryce asked, testing the water with his fingers.

  “You’re in luck.” The man talked from the side of his mouth. “My brother happens to own a general store that’s pretty close. He lives upstairs so he won’t mind opening up for me. Tell me your size, and I’ll have my assistant run over and get what you need.”

  “For a slight fee?”

  “Of course.” The fine lines at the corners of the man’s eyes deepened when he smiled.

  “Bring me a pair of britches, a shirt, some socks, and a clean pair of long johns in the longest pair you got. Take this dirty pair of britches to compare waist sizes.” Bryce slipped off his pants and handed them to the man along with a couple of bills. “Keep the change.”

  The man’s smile widened, showing a gaping hole where his left upper eyetooth had been. “Name’s Bob. Just holler if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks.” All he needed were answers, something Bob wouldn’t be able to help him with. He quickly divested himself of his dusty long-handled underwear and settled into the tub with a sigh. Sarge couldn’t be Kaitlin’s husband. She’d displayed a very unladylike enthusiasm for Bryce’s lips to be married to someone else. Besides, Bethany’s last name had been Kanatzer. He felt more at ease. Sarge must be a relative, but not a husband. A father? Brother? Cousin? Whoever Sarge was, the man wanted Kaitlin back home. But did he want her home because of family ties or to lure her to her death?

  ~ * ~

  Kaitlin had put in the last hairpin when Bryce pounded on her door. She took her time answering his summons. When she finally opened the door, she was more than a little surprised to find him handsomely dressed in clean clothes and his thick brown hair tamed by a trim and a little oil. The rich smell of bay rum assailed her senses, causing her heart to flutter rapidly. The man was way too handsome for his own good.

  “I began to grow impatient, but I believe you were worth the wait. You look right handsome tonight, Katy.”

  She touched her hair, self-consciously assuring herself everything was in order. “Thank you.”

  “Shall we go eat?”

  He held out his arm. She hesitated before she looped her arm with his. She wasn’t accustomed to this type of attention.

  With the lateness of the evening, the dining area was practically empty by the time they entered, giving them more privacy than Kaitlin felt comfortable with. She smiled gently to mask her unease. Her thoughts drifted, imagining they were on an outing, one in which Bryce had gallantly asked to escort her to dinner. The fantasy seemed more tempting than the truth, whereby Bryce was forced to endure her company because she’d followed him here.

  “This is a bit fancy for my tastes,” Bryce commented, gazing appreciatively about the elaborately decorated room.

  “Afraid a little culture will rub off on you?”

  “Naw, more like the other way around. I’d hate for some of my coarse ways to ruin the ambience of the moment.”

  “Ambience, eh? That’s an awful big word for a mere cowboy. Who are you really, Bryce Stanton? I don’t know that much about you.” She tilted her head at an angle, coyly trying to decipher the real man behind the cowboy.

  “Who wants to know? Kaitlin, the stiff suffragist who has an independent streak a mile long? Or Katy, the soft, alluring woman who finds herself needing my help, but won’t accept it?” He was no longer smiling. A hardness had stolen over his features, one she didn’t understand. What had caused his sudden change?

  She blinked in confusion. “What did I say wrong?”

  “It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it. I don’t appreciate subterfuge.” He leaned back in his chair. “If I wanted a woman to flirt and simper, I’d have stayed in Denver and continued courtin’ some of those empty-headed fillies vyin’ for my attention. I’m not the most refined gentleman. Never wanted to be. What you see, is what you get. Plain and simple.”

  Kaitlin reeled from his statement. “You think I want you?” She did want him with an intensity she found daunting, but she sure wasn’t going to give him that kind of power. No, she’d learned her lesson the last time she’d opened her heart to a man.

  Bryce leaned forward, capturing her gaze with eyes as rich as the polished mahogany that surrounded them. Though his expression was solemn, his eyes were warm and inviting. She leaned away from him, not wanting to be drawn into his magnetism, yet fearing it was already too late.

  “I hold honesty above all else, and I’d be lyin’ to you if I said I hoped you didn’t want me. Cuz, the hard truth is, I do want you.”

  “Want me?” she whispered, not sure how she should react.

  “Well, don’t look so surprised.” He reached for her hand and toyed with her fingers. “You look as startled as a doe caught in a hunter’s sights.”

  The waitress chose that moment to interrupt, placing plates heaped with a variety of food before them. Kaitlin retracted her hand and welcomed the intrusion. It gave her the opportunity to gather her thoughts.

  From that point on, the conversation became light. Bryce talked about the weather, the food, the growth of the town they were in. He even regaled her with stories from cattle drives he’d been on. It was as if he’d never told her those four, gut-wrenching words: I do want you. She, too, tried to put those words from her mind, opting to keep the conversation centered around mundane issues.

  When they were both sated, the waitress brought them each a steaming cup of coffee. Bryce folded his lips around the cup rim and sipped. The sudden silence unnerved her. He continued to study her, quietly drinking. When he was halfway through, he set the cup down.

  “Reckon we have a long day ahead. If you’re done, I’ll escort you upstairs.”

  She nodded, afraid her voice would alert him to her nervousness. Once she was alone, she would relax. The events of the day and the circumstances of his company must be responsible for the sudden jitters.

  Bryce pulled out her chair and presented his arm. She took it, allowing him to guide her through the dining hall, across the lobby, and up the winding stairway.

  “Hand me the key,” Bryce said and held out his hand. She dropped the key in his calloused palm. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. She preceded him inside. Turning, she planned to retrieve the key, thank him for the evening, and firmly shut the door in his face. But when she turned, he was already inside with the door firmly locked behind him.

  He strode over to the bed and found a stack of bedding the hotel staff had left for him. Without asking permission, he made a palette on the floor. She should argue over the issue, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. If Bryce had made up his mind to stay, she wouldn’t be able to change it.

&nb
sp; He paused, looking at her with skepticism. “Well? No argument?”

  “Why should I argue? If you’d rather sleep on the hard, cold floor instead of getting your own room with a soft, feather mattress to yourself, then who am I to complain?” She shrugged.

  “Well, now. I could sleep on the feather mattress beside you.” He waggled his brows. “It’s wide enough.”

  “Bryce, go downstairs and get your own room. I’m not going to be compromised because of your stubborn streak.”

  “It’s about time. I figured you were going to cheat me out of a fight.” He knelt on the floor, rearranging blankets, and glanced at her with a wicked grin. “Until I know why that man wanted you dead, you’re stuck with me. I’m not leavin’ your side.”

  “Fine.” She refused to be baited.

  “You sure are givin’ up easy.”

  “I know how pointless it is to debate semantics with you,” Kaitlin said, removing pins from her unruly hair. She then realized how small the room appeared. How was she going to change into her nightgown with him in the room? “Perhaps, you’ll leave so I might have some privacy. I need to change clothing and perform my ablutions for the evening.”

  Bryce stretched out on his palette and folded his arms behind his head. “And have you lock me out? I’ll just turn my back, and you can pretend I’m not here.”

  “I can’t believe I ever thought you were a gentleman.”

  He got up from the floor and straddled a chair with his back to her. “There. You can do what you need to now.”

  She made sure he couldn’t peek by looking in the mirror. Satisfied, she pulled out her only nightdress and began to ready herself for sleep.

  “I’d be more than happy to watch, if you’d rather I act more like a scoundrel, though.” He chuckled.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” She hurried her preparations.

  “No, ma’am. I’m only teasin’ you. You’re safe with me.”

  Oddly, she did feel much safer with Bryce in the room. She would never admit it, but being shot at had scared her, and being alone right now didn’t sound like a good idea. His presence gave her peace of mind.