by Lisa Harris
“I did, but I saw something pass between the two of you when he first saw you across the room. I can’t help but wonder if it happened once, why it couldn’t happen again.”
“Life’s not that simple.” Catherine sat down on the thick quilt that her mother had stitched together from scraps of the girls’ clothes and continued brushing her hair. “You don’t always get second chances with love.”
“I don’t believe that.” Lily plopped down beside her and drew her legs against her chest. The girl simply wouldn’t give up.
But as much as Catherine wanted to believe in dime-novel endings when it came to love, she’d seen firsthand that those storybook endings didn’t happen in real life. She’d seen it in her momma’s eyes the day Isaiah Morgan had left, and again the day Momma had died without the presence of her husband at her side. Which made Catherine all the more determined to forget any past she’d once had with Corbin Hunter. She knew from experience that a man like him came with a peck of trouble.
Catherine fiddled with a strand of her hair. Jumping into those memories was as unpleasant as jumping into Clear Creek during wintertime. “I remember talking to Momma about him and telling her how tall and handsome he was. He came one Sunday afternoon to ask Daddy if he could court me.”
Lily’s eyes glowed in the lamplight. “That’s so romantic.”
“He told me it was my eyes that had first captured him. He couldn’t decide if they were green or blue, so he decided he wanted to find out. The following fall, he took me aside at one of the church picnics and asked me to marry him.”
Lily pressed her lips together as if suppressing the flow of questions that was about to spout.
“Then, everything changed.” Catherine crossed the worn rose-garland carpet and set the brush on the dresser beside her mother’s hand-carved jewelry box. “Father left for Alaska. I had to take more responsibility in the store, which meant there was much less time for Corbin. When Momma got sick, everything changed overnight. Being the oldest, I had to take care of Momma and the three of you. And then…like I said. Everything changed between us.”
“I’m sorry. I never realized you lost Corbin because of us.”
Lily’s gaze swept the floor as if pulled down by the weight of guilt. But Catherine had not, nor would she ever, blame her sisters for what had happened.
Instead, she forced the remaining fragments of resolve into her voice and moved to lift up her sister’s chin until Lily looked at her. “I never regretted my decision to take care of you. You, Audrey, and Emily are my family. Nothing comes between us.”
Not even Corbin Hunter.
Lily shook her head. “It just doesn’t seem fair.”
“No one ever promised me life would always be fair. And besides, I’ve still got you, don’t I?”
“I suppose, though I don’t know that I’d be so forgiving if I was forced to give up my one true love.”
“You’re far too romantic, Lily.” Catherine shot her sister a half smile to mask the familiar jab of pain. “Save the fairytale endings for your stack of dime novels and get to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow with the new town telephone system coming.”
Emily had been right about the townspeople’s resistance when it came to the installation of the new town telephone, but Catherine hadn’t expected Emily to be the most outspoken of any of them. Or for Grady to be their first subscriber to the service. It was insurance well worth it, he told Catherine when he had his telephone installed in the house, to ensure that they were able to call the doctor when the time for the baby came. Emily, though, still wasn’t convinced of the necessity.
By the following week, some of the outlying farmers, as well as a number of businessmen in town, had been the next in line to pay the monthly subscription fee. But there were still plenty of people convinced that the telephone was nothing more than a passing fad that didn’t need anyone’s time or monetary investment, and most of them were quick to let her know their opinion.
Catherine worked to straighten several bolts of material Erma Potter had looked at while Lily sat in the adjoining room in her newly found job as the town telephone operator. Knowing how Lily spent half her time daydreaming of John Guild and life beyond Revenge, Catherine hoped the switchboard was what she needed to keep herself busy. Horace and Harold sat in their chairs in the center of the store, their inventions forgotten for the moment as they indulged in a lively game of chess.
The front door jingled, and Mrs. McBride bustled in. “I understand you received several new bolts of fabric.”
“I’ve just got them set out, Mrs. McBride.” Catherine slid into her selling tactics. “Mrs. Potter just bought four yards of the purple. It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”
The older woman fingered the edge of the fabric and frowned. “The quality of fabric seems to deteriorate more every season.”
Catherine shook her head at the expected response. “This is all the way from back East, Mrs. McBride. The best you can buy.”
“I find that hard to believe.” The woman’s frown deepened, emphasizing the lines around her mouth. “Why, even the store in Lancaster has better quality than this.”
Catherine worked to hold her tongue. While Mrs. McBride exasperated her, she was also one of her best customers, so there was no profit in arguing with the woman. Besides, no matter what she said, Mrs. McBride would contradict her.
“Feel free to look all you want, Mrs. McBride. I’ll be at the counter if you decide you need anything.”
Catherine headed toward the front of the store then stopped at the sound of Lily’s voice.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Garrett,” Lily was saying. “I just heard Erma Potter leave the store a couple minutes ago. If you hurry, you might be able to catch her before she heads home.”
Catherine retreated to the back of the room, folded her arms across her chest, and leaned against the doorframe, wondering if restraining Lily’s inquisitive nature was possible. In the week the switchboard had been up and running, Lily’s enthusiasm over her job had only managed to increase. Especially when she knew each subscriber by name and was frequently called upon for morning wake-up calls, recipes, or simply a long chat.
“Lily.”
Lily held up her hand and motioned for Catherine to wait.
“Lily.” Catherine wrestled the headset from Lily’s hand and held it up. “This is a telephone switchboard, not a women’s quilting bee.”
“I was simply trying to save Mrs. Garrett a trip all the way out to the Potter farm when Mrs. Potter is still in town. She was just in, wasn’t she?”
“That is beside the point. You’re listening in on other people’s conversations. How do you justify that?”
“I—”
“We are already facing a sizable amount of resistance, and if people feel as if someone is listening in on everything they say, well, it simply isn’t professional.”
“People like the personal touch.”
Catherine blew out a quick breath. “And I’m tempted to treat you like the city operators who aren’t even allowed to use the necessity without permission.”
Lily shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”
“The man who installed our switchboard told me that after only three weeks, the telephone has become a solid institution in Golden, Colorado, much like it’s becoming across the country. Do you think this is going to happen here if we continue to act like a backward, small town?”
“We’re not in the city.” Lily grabbed the headset out of Catherine’s hands and connected a call. “This is Revenge, where people like a bit of personal service. Which is exactly what I’m giving them.”
“Lily.”
“Wait a minute.” Lily held a finger to her lips. “I’ve heard these two men talking before.”
“What’s so strange about that?”
“They’re talking in some sort of code.”
“Maybe they’re speaking in code because someone is listening.”
The front bell r
ang, giving Catherine an excuse to leave before she lost her temper. She swept into the store and marched halfway to the counter before she looked to see who had entered. It was Corbin. She let out a somber sigh then looked down at her dress. When she’d put the outfit on this morning, the brown flecks in the fabric seemed fine, but now the color suddenly looked plain and dowdy. So much for keeping up appearances. She took a deep breath and touched the fringes of her hair to make sure they were still in place. Maybe if she’d prayed a bit harder, Sheriff Lansing would have been miraculously healed by now, and Revenge wouldn’t need a temporary sheriff.
“Miss Morgan?”
She forced a smile. “Good morning, Sheriff.”
She’d been right. Sheriff definitely sounded less intimate than…Corbin. She busied herself behind the counter like she had a million things to organize, even though she’d finished long before the store had even opened.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and let his gaze rake the floor. Apparently his return was proving to be just as awkward for him as it was for her.
“How do you like being back in Revenge?” she finally asked.
“I’ve been able to catch up on a few old friends.”
“Really?”
“Had lunch with Philip and Beatrice Smith and saw their new son.”
Catherine nodded. “He’s number five.”
“I hear the Marshalls have seven.”
“Eight.”
Corbin’s eyes widened. “Wow. How do they keep up with eight?”
Catherine stifled a laugh. “I don’t know, though I’m certain I don’t care to find out. Not that I wouldn’t like children…someday…but eight…”
She felt a blush cross her cheeks at the too-intimate line of conversation. Why couldn’t she just stick to impersonal topics like coffee and sugar?
He leaned against the counter and popped a lemon drop into his mouth, a habit she remembered from years ago. “I heard you have a telephone.”
“A telephone?” Catherine worked to make the switch. “Yes. I felt it was about time the service was available to the people of Revenge.”
“It’s an intriguing concept. I think progress—in most areas—is necessary.”
She couldn’t read his expression. “But not in this case?”
“I didn’t say that.” He tapped his fingers against the wooden counter. “It must be nice that you don’t have the rivalry some of the larger towns have with more than one telephone system.”
“I already have eight subscribers.”
“Quite an accomplishment, I would say, after only a week.”
“It’s a much-needed service in my opinion. Of course, I’ve yet to convince Emily of that. She sees it as some newfangled fad that won’t last.”
“I’d say it’s already too late for that. There are hundreds of telephones across the state, so I’d say you made a wise business decision in getting this town involved.”
Catherine smiled at the compliment and felt her cheeks blush.
Corbin cleared his throat. “I’m here, in fact, because I need to make a phone call.”
“Oh?”
“And I was also thinking that the sheriff’s office probably should have a phone installed. In case of an emergency, you know.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.” She pointed to the wooden box where customers who didn’t have their own phone could make outgoing calls for a small fee. “Who would you like to call? For now we are only hooked up to those with telephones in town, Lancaster, and a few other nearby towns.”
“The sheriff in Lancaster, please. It will save me time if I don’t have to ride out there.”
While Corbin talked on the phone, Catherine busied herself with Mrs. McBride’s purchase of five yards of the new sky blue cotton. Apparently the quality of the fabric wasn’t that bad after all.
“Catherine?” Lily stood in the doorway. “A call just came through for you. I’ll finish up for you in here if you’d like.”
Catherine glanced over at Corbin, who was still talking on the public phone. “Thanks.”
She sat down in the back room at the switchboard, hoping it was Emily deciding to take advantage of her own phone. “Hello?”
“Miss Morgan?”
“Yes.” Catherine searched her mind for the name that went with the familiar voice, but came up blank.
“This is Samuel Peterson. I’m not sure if you remember me or not, but I used to be a close friend of your parents.”
“Mr. Peterson, yes, I remember you. What can I do for you?”
“I wish I could talk to you in person, but when I found out you had a phone in your town, I decided that this was the quickest way to contact you.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes. It’s your father.”
“My father? I…I never expected to hear anything from him again.” Catherine fiddled with the long cord of the telephone and wondered if having a phone system in town was a good idea after all. It seemed as if all it had caused was trouble. “What happened, Mr. Peterson?”
“I’m sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but your father’s dead.”
Chapter Six
Catherine couldn’t remember the last time she and her three sisters had gathered around the dinner table with their mother’s fancy lace tablecloth and the Blue Willow patterned china dishes she’d brought to Ohio from back East after her marriage. Tonight there were no husbands, fiancés, or courting gentlemen—only the four sisters. And for Catherine, the additional roomful of memories that whispered in the background.
Because their father, Isaiah Morgan, was dead.
She took a bite of the fried chicken she’d prepared along with sweet corn from their garden and buttery mashed potatoes, but the rich food tasted drier than a spoonful of sand. She had yet to say the words out loud, but she knew she was going to have to, eventually. Her sisters had to know the truth.
“The dinner is wonderful, Catherine,” Lily bubbled as she scooped a second mound of potatoes onto her plate. “But I can’t imagine what the occasion is for you to cook a feast like this in the middle of the week. Why, it isn’t even a holiday.”
Catherine forced a smile and decided to put off the inevitable. “Does there have to be an occasion for the four of us to get together?”
Audrey helped herself to another biscuit and smeared on a thick layer of homemade butter. “It is kind of fun, isn’t it? An entire evening sitting around the table like we used to before Grady and Harrison came into the picture.”
“And don’t forget John Guild.” Emily shot a knowing glance at Lily. “I’m still waiting to hear the announcement of a wedding in the future for the two of you.”
Lily’s cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head to avoid the attention of her sisters. “It’s far too early for our relationship to have progressed to the stage of matrimony.”
“But you are hoping it does, aren’t you?” Emily prodded.
Lily’s broad smile answered the question as the three girls continued chatting about courting, beaus, and weddings. Catherine shoved the fleeting picture of her own family from her mind. Courting and weddings were something she’d likely never experience in this lifetime, a fact she’d long ago accepted.
Instead, she ate in silence, wishing she could forget the real reason she’d invited them all here. She wanted to be wrong about the man her father had been, but that wasn’t a fact to be argued. She’d been there the day he caught gold fever from reports that beckoned all able-bodied men to pack up and head for the mines and a guaranteed fortune. She’d been there the day he’d announced to their mother he was leaving. Then afterward, she was the one who’d read the letters he’d sent along with a few dollars and vain promises that he’d found a spot that would make them rich. Promises that he’d return to Revenge as soon as he made his fortune. But he never had. And except for an occasional letter, there had been no communication. Not even when Sarah Morgan died, leaving the four sisters on their own.
/> Catherine looked up and realized that her sisters were staring at her.
“Do you agree, Catherine?” Lily asked.
Catherine shook her head. “Agree with what?”
“You haven’t been listening to a word we’ve been saying, have you?” Emily said.
Audrey leaned forward with an odd expression on her face. “We’ve been discussing Corbin Hunter’s bathing habits.”
Catherine nearly choked on her mashed potatoes. “Bathing habits? Why, I—”
“He came in two days this past week for lemon drops and a bar of soap.” Lily cut her off before she could put a stop to the improper thread of conversation. “And on the third day he bought two bars of soap. No man needs that many bars of soap.”
Catherine swallowed a sip of water in an attempt to compose herself. The implications—at least to her sisters—were all too clear. “I’m sure you must be mistaken.”
“You didn’t notice?” Lily asked.
“Or didn’t want to notice,” Emily added.
“Neither.” Catherine frowned. “It is certainly not any of our business how many bars of soap Mr. Hunter buys—or any of the customers for that matter—and I’m not going to discuss—”
“The fact that he’s quite handsome?” Emily asked.
“Or that you’ve started wearing your hair softer around your face and your Sunday best to the store on weekdays?” Lily added.
Catherine wiped the edges of her mouth with her napkin then pushed back her plate. She certainly hadn’t gathered her sisters together to discuss the personal habits of Corbin Hunter, whether or not he was handsome, or even what she decided to wear this morning. And she was only fooling herself if she thought she could put off the inevitable any longer. “I think it’s time we laid the subject of Mr. Hunter and his, er, private routines aside, because while I don’t have anything to celebrate tonight, I do have something to tell you.”
“And you’re telling us it doesn’t have anything to do with you and the newly acquired sheriff?” Apparently Lily wasn’t finished.
