by Sara Orwig
“Brian, come home.”
Dan strode to him, giving him another swift hard kick in the backside, sending him sprawling facefirst in the snow. “Get up and go home like your sister says.”
“Who’s he, Mary? I’m going to kill him,” Brian ground out, pushing himself up on hands and knees and shaking his head.
Brian started to get up, and Dan kicked him in the rump again. “You belong at home, not in a saloon. Don’t you know you could get your sister hurt badly? She shouldn’t be out hunting for you.”
Brian bellowed in rage. This time when he came up, Dan faced him.
“I can kick you all the way home and give you the beating you deserve, or you can go peacefully with your sister. Which will it be?”
“Brian, come home.”
“Mary, who is he?” Brian asked, staring at Dan with clenched fists.
She looked up at Dan. “I don’t know,” she said, suddenly realizing she didn’t know his name.
“I’m Dan Castle. I’m a friend of Silas’.”
“You really know Silas?” she asked in amazement.
“Yes. I’ll stop by your place someday and we can talk about it. Right now, it’s snowing again, my head is throbbing, and I’m freezing. Let’s go home.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?”
“Aw, Mary, I didn’t hit him that hard,” Brian interjected, looking from one to the other with a puzzled frown.
“I did,” she said, and Brian turned to stare at Dan.
“I don’t need a doctor. I need to go home and get out of the cold.” And away from the O’Malleys, he added silently.
“Thank you for your help, sir,” she said, and Brian snorted derisively.
“You’re welcome.”
“Good night.” She took her brother’s arm and the two turned around to trudge away in the snow, Brian protesting her interference. Dan was going the same direction, so he shook his head in resignation and called to them.
“Miss O’Malley.”
“Yes?”
“Come get in the buggy. I’ll take you two home.”
“Oh, we don’t want—”
“Get in,” he said curtly, “before my toes freeze off.”
“Aw, hell, we can walk—” Brian began.
“No. We’ll ride,” Mary answered with dignity, and Dan reached out to help her into the buggy. He climbed in beside her, Brian getting in the seat behind them. Snow fell, tumbling in tiny flakes as they drove through a silent, deserted street. As he approached the boardinghouse, he saw smoke curling from the chimneys.
He tugged the reins and the team halted. Brian jumped down and strode into the house without looking back.
“Mr. Castle, thank you again. I do appreciate your efforts,” she said in a soft voice.
“You’re welcome, Miss O’Malley.”
“I’m sorry you got hurt.”
“I’m going to be fine,” he said, trying to hold on to his patience.
She nodded solemnly, and suddenly he wondered if she ever laughed. With the family she had, and with the boardinghouse, she had little to laugh about. Silas hadn’t said too much about it, except that he didn’t want her to work so hard. On impulse, Dan jumped down and helped her out of the carriage. She raised her face to gaze up at him as solemn as ever while snowflakes caught on her thick lashes.
“Good night, Mr. Castle,” she said again.
He watched her walk away, noticing her slight limp, wondering how she could wield a club or a skillet with such strength. He climbed back to drive to his hotel, wondering the same thing about Brian O’Malley, who should have been as easy to handle as a child. He was almost six inches shorter than Dan, and several pounds lighter. Dan had been in enough fights in his life to make him a match for almost any man, except perhaps his brother-in-law Noah McCloud, but tonight when Brian O’Malley had started fighting him, it had been fierce.
His head throbbed, a pounding pain that made him swear under his breath and heap his anger on Silas’ absent person. Suddenly he grinned. The O’Malleys were a handful! He thought about Mary O’Malley sending the two rowdies running in pain. She didn’t need anyone’s help to defend herself. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. He wondered how many boarders she had. There had been several influential men eating in her dining room that day he had been there. It was easy to guess why—she was the best cook he had ever crossed paths with, including Dulcie. It was the first time he had thought of Dulcie all evening, and a twinge of guilt plagued him. But he had to admit that he wanted to see Louisa Shumacher again, wanted to take her out. He wanted more than that. He wanted her in his bed.
He clamped his jaw down grimly, worrying about Dulcie, knowing he wasn’t bound to her in any way—Dulcie had seen to that—but in spite of her continual rejections, he felt guilty.
He kept his team of horses and his new carriage at Dulcie’s place. She had a small buggy and her own horse, but the roomy stable gave her customers a place to leave their carriages or horses out of sight in back without tethering them on the street. Dan had ordered an Excelsior Top Carriage when he arrived in Denver, but it was too open and chilly for Colorado winters. He already had an order in for a new Brougham Rockaway, costing him over six hundred dollars, far more than the Excelsior, but it was roomy, just right for winter, and due to be delivered this week.
Shivering, he hurried along on foot from Dulcie’s. The only sound was the crunch of his footsteps in the snow, and when he paused, the world was silent. Snowflakes fell on his face, and he gazed at the town, wrapped in the soft beauty of white that cloaked the unsightly posts and wagons. Dan gave a silent prayer of thanks that he had this chance to start again with another name in a town where he felt safe. He was becoming acquainted with honest men who worked hard for their living, who had been fortunate in silver or gold or been shrewd in business. He was no longer on the wrong side of the law, riding with thieves and renegades, and he had a chance to become friendly with women like Louisa Shumacher.
He strode on toward the hotel, glad he would move into his new home within the month. A clerk dozed behind the desk, and Dan tiptoed across the lobby and up the stairs to his room. He peeled off his fine clothes, looking at bloodstains he would have to get out of his shirt and coat, shaking his head again and swearing over the O’Malleys. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t keep from laughing to himself. Mary and Brian O’Malley should go on the road as boxers. They would earn a fortune.
As soon as she shut the door, Mary faced Brian. “How much did you lose tonight?”
“Why do you think I lost?” Brian asked. “Stop worrying about me and leave me alone. I’m a grown man.”
“You’re seventeen,” she said, hurting as she faced him. “Brian, do you know how worried I was about you?”
Suddenly his scowl vanished and he crossed the room to place his hands on her shoulders. “Aw, Mary. All you can see is your little brother. You used to call me your baby, and that’s the way you still see me.”
His abrupt change from anger to coaxing pleasantry was disarming. She ran her hand across her forehead. “Brian, don’t try your charm on me. I was so worried!”
“Mary. Look at me. I’m growing up.”
“You’re too young and too poor to be gambling away your wages in a saloon at night.”
He tried to grin, winced, and rubbed his jaw. “Who was that fellow? He really packs a wallop.”
“So do you. You hurt him badly.”
“Evidently I wasn’t the only O’Malley who hurt him. What happened?”
“Brian,” she said, trying to hold on to her stern feelings before he made her completely forget his earlier behavior, “you’re changing the subject. I don’t want you in saloons.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t stay so late, but, Mary, I’m a man now. I’m seventeen and I have the right. Michael started before that age. And Pa—”
“We can’t help what Pa does, and he certainly doesn’t set an example. And I think Michael was old
er than seventeen.”
“He wasn’t. You just didn’t go out and hunt for him like you do me. Admit it, Mary, I’m still your baby.”
She gazed into wide green eyes and a faint smile, and she couldn’t maintain her scowl. “Brian, don’t worry me so!”
“I won’t. I’m sorry for that,” he said softly.
“And don’t make empty promises. You’re so quick to say you’ll do what I want, and as soon as the words are spoken, you promptly forget them and do just as you please.”
“Come on, now, you know better than that. My head is throbbing. What can I put on my eye?”
“I’ll get a cold cloth and we’ll clean up your cuts.”
He followed her as she went to a bucket of water and placed it on the floor. She wrung out a washcloth. “Sit down so I can reach you.”
“I’m getting taller. You used to be able to reach me without any difficulty,” he said happily as he pulled out a straight-backed chair and straddled it. “What did you do to that man Castle?”
“You should apologize to him, Brian.”
“Balderdash! I’m not apologizing. What did you do to him?” he repeated.
“I was looking in saloons for you when two men bothered me.” She dabbed at a cut on the side of his head, his thick auburn hair matted with blood. She cleaned it, the unruly hair springing away in waves.
“Mary—Ouch! Someday you’ll have to let me go.”
“Someday is after you’re eighteen years old.”
“I’ll be eighteen next December.”
“Almost a year, and all too soon. If you had good sense and were an adult, you wouldn’t go into saloons.”
“Bosh! Silas went to saloons. Michael goes. Anyway, how’d you get rid of the two men?”
“I took a stick along.”
He tilted his head and gave her a crooked grin. “I’ll bet you sent them flying.”
“That I did, and Mr. Castle too. He saw the men and he intended to come to my rescue. I didn’t know it was someone trying to help, and I hit him over the head.”
To Mary’s chagrin, Brian burst out laughing. “If the man was coming to your rescue, I suppose I’m going to have to be nice to him.”
“He was. And he does know Silas.”
“Why are you waiting for Silas? You haven’t heard a word from him in years.”
“I’m going to marry him,” she insisted stiffly, feeling a deep ache that came every time she thought of him.
“Yeah. Well, I hope you don’t have white hair when you do.” He chuckled. “I’d like to have seen what happened.”
“It was dreadful. Hold still.”
He jerked his head away to look into her eyes. “Don’t send a stranger after me again, Mary. I didn’t know he was with you. How’d you find out he knows Silas, and how did he know it was you in that alley?”
She blushed, hating to admit the truth. “We’ve met before. He ate here once.”
“Seems like he would have told you more about Silas then.” He twisted around to glance at her.
“There, you’re done. Off to bed with you, Brian.”
“You’re blushing. How come you didn’t talk to him before about Silas?”
“I was busy.”
Brian tilted his head to one side, squinting at her out of his good eye, holding the cold cloth to his puffy, darkening eye. “Mary, you can’t lie worth a pig’s tail.”
“We had a little disturbance here and he left without our talking.”
“What kind of disturbance?” He stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “I’ll keep on until I find out. What happened? Did Castle do something to you he shouldn’t have?”
“Oh, no! Actually, there were two strangers who started trouble. I threw scalding water on one, and they ran away.”
“Yeah? What did you do to Castle, Mary?” Brian asked, and his one eye sparkled with gleeful curiosity.
“I just threw things at him until he became angry and left.”
“And tonight you clubbed him over the head.” Brian laughed. “He’ll learn to leave the O’Malleys alone! I’ll bet he’s home nursing his head and his aches right now.” Brian rubbed his jaw. “He knows how to fight, I’ll say that for him, so I guess he’s no coward. I’m going to bed, Mary.”
“Good night, Brian,” she said, watching him stride down the hall. Her heart ached because she did view him as her baby and knew the time was quickly approaching when he would be a man and she would have to let him go completely.
In two weeks’ time Dan had called on the Shumachers twice and encountered them elsewhere half a dozen times. While he hadn’t yet been alone with Louisa, he was getting to see her. It was easy for him to get invited to Emily Parsons’ party. He had become friendly with Cyrus Blakely, who worked at his father’s smelter, and Thad Robeson, both friends of Emily’s, so when Dan received an invitation, he accepted with alacrity. To his satisfaction, he ran into Louisa during the week, stopping by her carriage to chat with both Emily and Mrs. Parsons. When Saturday night came, eagerness bubbled in him. He wore his best black pants and linen shirt. It was another snowy night, although at least the snow from the weekend before had melted away during the week. Now the ground was covered again with a layer of pristine white, and flakes drifted silently down, melting on his shoulders as he stopped on Grant Street to pick up his friend Cyrus, who came bounding out to climb up beside him.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Your house is along the way.”
“When you get your house finished, you’ll live close to us.”
When they reached the Parsons’ house, Emily welcomed them at the door, her brown eyes sparkling, a faint scent of lilac assailing Dan as he stood and talked to her while a servant took his topcoat. Emily led him into the back parlor, where a fire blazed and guests stood talking in clusters. It was a party for young people. There were no elders or married couples, and Dan ad already met most of the people present. It took only seconds to see that he had arrived before Louisa, and he stood where he could watch the door while he chatted with Emily and her friends. He heard Louisa’s laughter before she came in sight. She was in front of Reuben, and was talking to Emily, who had moved back to the front hall to greet her guests. Dan’s gaze swept over Louisa, taking in the soft pink woolen dress with velvet trim. He knew little about women’s clothes, but he knew the dress was costly, with fine lace around the collar and cuffs, bands of darker pink velvet circling the skirt inches above the hem, and a belt of velvet around her tiny waist. Her hair was combed in the latest style, her eyes sparkled and he was dazzled by her. For a moment he lost his awareness of everyone else in the room.
“Excuse me,” he murmured to the group where he stood, and moved away, his gaze on Louisa.
She turned her head then to look directly into his eyes, and Dan felt as if she had reached out to touch him. Her lashes fluttered and he drew a sharp breath, threading his way between guests while keeping his gaze locked with hers. Reuben stepped to her side, his gaze sweeping over the crowd and pausing on Dan.
Louisa’s gaze held sparks of excitement, while Reuben’s scowl held unmistakable anger. Dan didn’t care what Reuben felt. He wanted to push him away from her and be left alone with her, but he knew it was impossible. The pair moved into the room, and she paused in front of him.
“Good evening, Miss Shumacher, Mr. Knelville,” he said without taking his eyes from her. Her cheeks became pinker as she smiled up at him.
“Good evening, Castle,” Reuben cut in. “Louisa, we need to say hello to everyone. And Bessie’s waiting to talk to you.”
“Excuse us, Mr. Castle,” she said softly.
He nodded, watching them move away. There would be plenty of time for him to see Louisa later on, and he didn’t want to get involved in any embarrassing scene with Reuben, who was firmly established in Denver society.
He didn’t talk to her again until they began a game of musical chairs. Emily’s brother played the fiddle while everyone walked around in
a circle. Three people were between Dan and Louisa, and when Patrick Parsons lifted his bow from the fiddle and silence descended, Dan sat down instantly, crowding Elwood Deakens out of a spot. In three more turns Dan was next to Louisa, carefully dropping to a chair when the music stopped, but careful to avoid taking Louisa’s, eliminating a player on his right so Louisa could remain on his left. They bumped shoulders, knees, and arms, and everyone laughed as the excitement of the game mounted. The losing spectators cheered the others on as they stood in a ring behind the players.
Once, as they sat down quickly, Louisa laughed, looking up at him. Dan gazed down into her eyes and wished he could get her alone, all to himself. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known—including Melissa Hatfield and Dulcie.
The child’s game made everyone relax, and chatter filled the room when the game ended, until Emily clapped her hands for the next game. They progressed through two more games, before finally adjourning to the Parsonses’ large kitchen, where two cooks were stirring kettles of taffy that had cooled sufficiently to pull. All the guests were given aprons, and Dan moved quickly, scooping up a mound of taffy, turning to Louisa and thrusting it into her hands.
“Pull with me, Miss Shumacher,” he said, watching her.
She tugged on the taffy, laughing at him as they both worked.
“Careful or you’ll have hands that hurt tomorrow,” he cautioned. “This isn’t good for delicate skin.”
“I’m not that delicate,” she said. “I survived our fall in the snow.”
“Yes, even though I landed on top of you,” he said softly, watching her reaction as she looked down quickly. He caught her hands, causing her to stop.
“You’ll get blisters if you pull vigorously. Just hold and I’ll pull,” he said, conscious of his hand still over hers. He released her, watching her steadily as he tugged at the candy. Finally they were finished, and everyone had bites of taffy and adjourned to the parlor again for food and more games.
