“We do have one we usually save for drummers and the like. It’s two dollars.”
“Does that include a meal?” she asked, determined to get the most she could for her money.
“Not usually, but if you’ll settle for soup and bread...”
She’d hoped for roast beef and mashed potatoes, but soup was better than nothing. “I’ll take it.” She dug into her purse and counted out the correct amount of money. Even with the cheaper accommodations, she had less than two dollars left. Considering her strained finances, she gave thanks that her evening meal, however meager, came with the hotel’s accommodations. Still able to taste that awful fare at Robin’s Roost, she grimaced. At least they couldn’t burn soup.
She signed the register and picked up the key. “I would like my bath water sent up as soon as possible.”
“If you want a bath, it’s a dollar extra.”
While she was tempted to call him the thief that he was, she didn’t wish to make a scene on her first night in town. “I do intend to have a bath, and for that price I’ll expect the water to be hot.”
“Second door upstairs, on the left.” He peered at her trunk. “I hope you don’t expect me to wag that up those stairs.”
“Of course not, I expect it to fly up there all by itself.” She could tell by the pained expression on his face that it was the only way her trunk would get there.
“I could send word to the saloon and see if one of the fellers...”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” she said quickly. Even if he did find anyone willing to help her, that person, too, would expect some payment for his effort. “The smaller bag will do for tonight.” She frowned when he remained where he was. Apparently whatever luggage she needed, she would have to manage by herself. She gazed at her trunk, uneasy about leaving it, especially since it contained everything she had of value. Small miniatures of her father and mother in silver-backed frames, frames that she had hidden rather than let them be sacrificed for the Cause. A coverlet and a few bed linens she had salvaged from the plantation. And most precious of all, her mother’s wedding dress and veil. “I want your assurance that my trunk will be safe.”
“If it’s full of guns—or whisky,” he said sarcastically, “then I’d say you’d better not chance it.”
“No. Only one revolver.” She suggestively patted her reticule. “I decided to travel light this time.” Delighting in the shock on the clerk’s face, she leaned forward, waving a finger in warning. “That trunk contains my wedding dress, and I will hold you personally responsible if anything happens to it.” His eyes shifted from her to the reticule. “I’ll move it behind the desk if that would ease your mind any.”
“As long as it is safe.” Grateful that he hadn’t called her bluff and made her check her nonexistent gun at the desk, she picked up her smaller bag and waited until he tugged her trunk out of the hallway. “By chance, are you acquainted with Tanner Blaine?” she asked.
“Name doesn’t sound familiar.” He grunted and dusted his hands. “It will take a while for that water to heat.” Before she could ask anything more, he pushed through a curtain behind the desk and disappeared from her view.
She trudged up the stairs, found the right room number and used the key to open her door. The stench of stale cigar smoke and lingering body odors sent her scurrying in search of a window. There was no window.
Using a gleam of light from the hallway, she lit a lamp she’d found on a bureau, waved as much of the smell as she could from the room, then closed and locked her door. “Two dollars, for this,” she muttered, shaking her head. The whole room appeared barely larger than a closet. Since previous experience had taught her to be cautious, she stripped the bed and checked the mattress for vermin. Satisfied that the linens, although dingy, were clean, she remade the bed. Then, weary beyond words and aching in every spot from the jouncing she’d taken on the stage, she stretched out on the coverlet. She was almost asleep when her rumbling stomach reminded her she had yet to eat. She also had to take a bath, if and when the water ever arrived.
Fearing the kitchen might close if she tarried any longer, she reluctantly rose and washed her face and hands, then patted a strand of hair into place. Tonight, she would eat her soup and bread, even taking seconds if it were permitted.
Tomorrow, she would find some way to send Tanner Blaine word that she had arrived.
Kathleen nervously paced the perimeter of her room. It was almost noon and she’d still had no word from Tanner Blaine. She’d risen early, dressed, and breakfasted on a slice of bread she’d saved from the night before, so that she wouldn’t have to keep him waiting. Now she wondered why she had bothered. It had only given her more time to worry.
She’d asked around town and found that while a goodly number of people seemed to know Mr. Blaine, most hadn’t seen him in over a month. And, while everyone knew he lived someplace outside of Jacksonville, nobody had been able to give her adequate directions so that she might seek him out on her own.
She’d thought he would be one of the town’s leading citizens, but apparently she’d been wrong. It made her wonder how many other things she might be mistaken about as well.
Maybe he hadn’t received her letter. Maybe he had received it, but was busy. The first she could excuse, but the second?
She’d traveled across an entire continent. How could he be too busy to take the time to come in and meet her?
Unless he’d changed his mind.
Last night she’d read and reread the advertisement and his letter. She hadn’t been mistaken. Even if the man hadn’t been inclined to flowery speech, the letter and the money he’d enclosed indicated that he’d been eager for her to arrive.
He’d come for her today, she told herself.
And what if he didn’t? She’d left everything behind, all on the promise in a letter. Now that she had taken the time to consider what she’d done, she wondered how she could have been so foolish. She knew next to nothing of her fiance`. And absolutely nothing of his family.
What if he had the inclination to drink? The town had a goodly number of saloons. Somebody had to keep them in business. Her other fears resurfaced. What if he had a terrible temper? What if he beat her? It had been known to happen.
A knock sounded on the door. She opened it to find the maid standing in the hallway.
“You ready to leave yet, miss?”
Kate nodded, then put on her wool cloak and hat, picked up her small bag and went down the stairs.
“Any word from Mr. Blaine?” she asked the desk clerk.
“Nope. You want to pay for another night?”
“No, thank you. I’m sure he will be here soon.” After placing her smaller bag on top of her trunk, she went to an alcove off of the lobby and settled herself on a chair in front of a window. Parting a lace curtain, she gazed out on the town.
Jacksonville, a hamlet surrounded by mountains, isolated in the winter because of those same mountains and impassable roads. It was almost winter now. The more she pondered her situation, the more agitated she became.
What if something had happened to Mr. Blaine?
What if he never came at all?
While one part of her wanted to give in to a fit of hysteria, another part, her pride, made her lift her chin and blink back the hot tears that blurred her vision. She was a Deveraux, born and bred a lady. She would not sit on a bench and weep like some orphaned waif.
But pride will not feed you, nor offer you a bed, a small voice inside her whispered. She swallowed a lump of fear.
A cold wind howled around the side of the building, making the window curtains flutter against the glass. Thinking of the night only a few hours away, she trembled. “Dear God, what am I going to do?”
Chapter 4
“T-Tanner’s coming b-back to the house,” John warned, moving away from the cabin window.
“Dang it! I thought he’d be off to work by now.” Mark brushed a hank of dark hair out of his eyes and gazed at his
older brother striding through the front door.
“Mule threw a shoe,” Tanner said, his voice filled with disgust. “I’ve got to take him into Jacksonville to get shod. Do we need anything from town while I’m there?”
“I think we’ve got enough sugar, but you could pick up another sack of flour,” Matt said.
“How about beans?” Tanner asked.
“Gawd, no!” Mark exclaimed. “I can’t stand to be in the same room with Luke as it is.”
“You don’t smell like no rose yourself,” Luke countered.
“Flour. That’s all?” When Matt nodded, Tanner turned on his heel and left the house. Moments later, riding his gelding and leading the mule, he headed down the mountain.
“Dang!” Mark said softly. “What are we going to do if she shows up today?”
“We ain’t heard a word from her since we sent the ticket and the money,” Luke said.
“We probably won’t, either.” Which, Mark decided, wouldn’t be so bad. He and his brothers had experienced a state of panic once the letter telling her to come had been sent on its way.
Not wanting Tanner to find any incriminating evidence, they had burned the Atlanta newspaper and the woman’s letter in the stove. Mark guessed that he and his brothers were destined to do women’s work for the rest of their lives, or at least until they were old enough to get married. But dang it, he sure wished the idea of sending for a mail-order bride hadn’t cost him that new saddle. Especially since it had taken him a whole year of cutting and peeling fence posts to earn enough money to buy the blamed thing.
“W-what if she d-does c-come?”
“Why would she? Especially since we sent her that other letter.” Matt went back to his place by the fire.
“What if she didn’t get it? What if she’d already left?” Mark asked, trailing after him.
“Yeah. What if she got it and decided to come anyway?” Luke added. “What are we gonna do then?”
“We told her Tanner had died. She wouldn’t have any reason to come,” Matt assured them.
“For the f-funeral? M-maybe she l-likes to look at d-d-dead people,” little John suggested.
Matt snorted. “Don’t be silly.”
The more Mark thought about his saddle, the more he wished he still had it. Then he could sell it and use the money to get himself and the rest of them out of town. Now he and the boys were flat broke and winter was coming on.
Too agitated to settle, he gazed out the window and made a mental note to trim away the leafless limb that seemed intent on scratching a hole in the side of the house.
Winter.
With Tanner.
Bad enough under the best of circumstances. But with Tanner mad...
A chill not caused by the weather sent him back to the fireside where his brothers were still engaged in a morbid conversation about death and funerals.
Mark added his own comment to the glum observations. “I’ve got a feeling death might be real pleasant compared to what Tanner will do to us if he finds out what we’ve done.”
* * *
The storm from the day before had blown itself out during the night, and Tanner had hoped to get an early start. Heading down the mountain, he cursed the luck that made him waste valuable hours, especially on a day when the sun was shining. At least the mule wasn’t limping and they were making good time. If it didn’t take the smithy too long, he could still get back and put in a few hours’ work before dark.
But when he reached the blacksmith’s, he discovered that his usual bad luck still ran true. A freighter had left a whole string of animals that the man had to shoe before he could even get to Tanner’s mule.
“Buford, I can’t wait that long,” Tanner protested. “Isn’t there something you can do?”
“I’ll try to get Jake in to help me, but he’s been feelin’ poorly of late,” the smith said. “If not, I’ll do a few of the wagon mules, then slip your critter in. Check back in a couple of hours, Tanner.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate it.” Tanner had turned to leave, when a saddle hanging at the entrance of the smithy caught his eye. “That looks like Mark’s rig.”
Buford chuckled. “It is. He brought it last month, seemed in a real hurry to sell it. I couldn’t give him what it was worth, but he took it anyhow. I figure I’ll hang onto it for a while in case he wants it back.”
“Mark skinned fence posts for a year to get that saddle. Couldn’t see what he wanted with it myself. He doesn’t even have a horse. Kids.” Shaking his head, Tanner left the livery and strolled down the street.
Recalling a harness that needed mending, he turned in to J. A. Brunner & Bro.‘s store and picked up a length of leather to do the job. After exchanging pleasantries with Joe Brunner, the elder Brunner’s son, Tanner dug into his pocket and handed over the correct amount of coin.
The freckled-faced young man dropped the money into the register. “By the way, Tanner, I hear somebody is looking for you.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know. One of the Britt boys mentioned it.” Joe tied a string around the parcel and passed it over the counter.
“Thanks.” Perplexed, Tanner left the store, taking note of the new construction as he headed for the center of town. If the place kept on growing, it would soon be so crowded they wouldn’t all have enough air to breathe.
That was one problem he and the boys didn’t have. They didn’t have a neighbor for miles.
He went into the Wells Fargo office and stepped up to the window. “Howdy, Lester. Any mail for the Blaines?” He doubted there would be. They usually picked it up once a month, and Luke had come into town after feed only the week before.
“Yeah. There was a letter, but I guess the boys already got that. And Mark came in to mail something several days back.” The clerk squinted over his spectacles. “The boys order something special? One or the other of them have been in here pert’ near every day.”
“Is that right?” That explained the unfinished chores and the mysterious whispers. “They probably sent for something out of one of those mail-order catalogs.” That might be why Mark sold his saddle. But the letter? Tanner didn’t know of a soul his brothers could be writing to—let alone anybody that would be writing back.
“More than likely, that’s the case. We get a lot of catalog orders through here.” The clerk raised a finger. “Almost forgot. Heard somebody was looking for you.”
“Yeah, I heard. Who was it?”
“I don’t know. Another customer told me.”
“Okay, Lester. See you next month.” Frowning, Tanner left the post office and strode down the boardwalk. Whoever was looking, he hoped they didn’t find him. He wanted to get his chores done and get home. He had neither the time nor the disposition for any distractions.
Besides, nobody had any reason to be looking for him—unless his brothers had gotten into mischief, and somebody was expecting him to pay the damages. It had taken him forever to replace that window they’d broken on the Fourth of July. They were good boys and hadn’t done it on purpose. But it did seem that where his brothers went, trouble followed. And they had been hanging around town.
His frown turned into a scowl. “Damnation, that’s all I need.”
When his rumbling stomach reminded him he’d had no breakfast, and it was nearing noon, Tanner checked his watch to see if he had time to grab a bite to eat before he headed back to the blacksmith’s. Deciding he did, he returned the timepiece to his pocket and strolled into the Stars and Bars, a local eatery. He picked a table near the window and gave the waitress his order.
She called it out to the cook and returned with a cup of coffee. “Ain’t you Tanner Blaine?”
“That’s my name,” he said, almost reluctant to admit it.
“A woman was looking for you. Must be a stranger, ‘cause I ain’t never seen her before.”
“A woman?”
His brothers weren’t old enough to get into that kind of trouble. And he hadn’t been with a w
oman since spring. He uneasily thought back to the last time and mentally counted the months. Seven. He’d been careful, but still... He stared up at the waitress. “You said she was a stranger?”
“Yep. I know everybody in town. She ain’t from around here.” Another customer came in and caught her attention. After that the place became so busy she barely had time to deliver his steak, let alone answer any more questions.
The meal was well-cooked and plentiful, and ordinarily Tanner would have really enjoyed the treat. But today, with his mind so preoccupied, he might as well have been eating sawdust.
A woman. A stranger. Since he didn’t know anybody from anywhere else, she had to be a stranger to him, too. He chewed his steak. It could be somebody needing some work done. But usually the menfolks handled all those details. He shook his head, then sopped up the last of his gravy with his biscuit and popped it into his mouth.
He went to the register and paid for his meal, waiting while the waitress counted out his change. “She didn’t say what she wanted?”
“Who? Oh, her. No, just asked for you.”
“Miss, can I have some more coffee?” a customer called out.
“Got to go, Mr. Blaine. Hope you find her.”
Not so sure that he wanted to find her, Tanner left the restaurant and crossed the street. He went into the mercantile, ordered the sack of flour and had the proprietor, Homer Ames, add it to his account. “Thanks, Homer, I’ll pick up the flour on my way out of town.”
“Go ahead, Tanner. It’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Nodding, Tanner strode out the door. At least she hadn’t been in the mercantile. Curiosity getting the best of him, he checked his watch. He still had a half hour. If some strange female was asking for him the banker would know. Nothing escaped Cornelius Beekman’s keen ears or eyes. Tanner entered the bank and approached a gray-haired, bearded man seated behind a desk. “Can I have a word with you, Beek?”
“Hello, Tanner.” The banker gave him a broad smile. “There’s a young lady down at the hotel that will be mighty glad to see you. She came in on the stage last night.”
Courting Kate Page 4
