Bride in Blue

by Christine Sterling

  “Never mind, girlie. We’ll find something.”

  They walked down to the dry goods store. Cassie noticed the livery behind it. “Do you think the livery would be a good place?”

  Her father nodded. They didn’t see anyone, so they snuck through the barn door and moved to the furthest corner of the stable. They sat against the wall hidden by the shadows.

  “How did your meeting go?”

  “Not well at all,” Cassie sniffled and relayed what occurred in the shop.

  Her father laughed when she described knocking over the wire mannequin. “Can’t do anything about it now. We can always get on that train to Oregon in the morning.” Cassie nodded and watched through one of the bay doors as the sun started to set in the sky.

  Cassie listened to the sounds of the horses gently neighing in the background. She thought she heard footsteps, but she wasn’t sure.

  Her father leaned against the wall and settled in, closing his eyes. That man could sleep anywhere!

  The stable was cool, and the temperature dropped as the sun disappeared from view. Cassie saw her father lightly shiver. She looked around, spying a horse blanket hanging over the stall. She reached up to grab the blanket.

  Just as her fingers touched the stiff wool fabric, a hand appeared from the dark and grabbed her wrist.

  Cassie let out a shriek and everything went black.

  Chapter 5

  Cassie woke up with a start. She wasn’t in her bed at home and she wasn’t in the stables behind the dry goods store.

  Instead, she was sleeping in a strange bed in a strange room. She pulled the sheets up closer to her face and looked around the room. There wasn’t anything familiar apart from her bag in the corner of the room.

  How did she get here? And why was she in her night clothes? Who changed her dress?

  The sheets felt cool against her skin. She gave a little roll – this wasn’t a straw filled mattress. It was so much softer. The mattress cover wasn’t coarse wool, either. It appeared to be linen with a cotton covering on top. How peculiar!

  She had never seen anyone cover their mattress twice!

  The furnishings were very fine, everything was made of stained wood with gold embellishments. Even the dresser had golden pull handles instead of knobs.

  She got out of bed, noticing a pair of house shoes on the floor. Sliding her feet in them, she went in search of her clothes. She opened her bag and it was empty.

  She quickly started opening the wardrobes and found her coat hanging up in one of them. Breathing a sigh of relief, she opened the dresser and found the rest of her clothes neatly folded and placed in the drawer.

  She pulled out a clean poplin blouse and plain blue skirt and quickly changed. She noticed her brush and extra hair pins were laying on top of the dresser.

  She brushed her hair until her arm hurt, breaking it into sections. She then twirled the sections before securing them to the top of her head. She was on her last section when she heard a sound coming from outside the window.

  It sounded like something was on the roof. Cassie walked over and opened the shade.

  “Oh, my,” she said, jumping back as a cat appeared through the glass. Opening the window, she could see that there was sloping roof just below the window. She was on the second floor of the building.

  The cat hopped through the window and dropped to the floor where the sunshine lit up the floor. The cat stretched out his leg and began cleaning his toes. Cassie gave a giggle. They weren’t allowed pets at the tenement.

  A cat would have been nice, she thought. It probably would have kept the mice and rats away.

  She pulled over a chair and looked at the cat cleaning itself. It was a dark grey with white feet and white marks on its chest and forehead. Even one of its ears was white.

  “Where did you come from, little one?” Cassie asked. She reached down to pet the cat’s head, and he rolled over giving her access to his belly. She rubbed the animal’s belly until he reached out and grabbed her arm in his paws and bit at her hand. He didn’t break the skin, but she did get scratched when she jerked her hand away.

  The cat jumped up and strutted to the door, scratching on it to be let out. Cassie was about to open the door when she heard a voice call in the distance. “Mr. Gladstone! Where are you?”

  That was Mr. Blue! The sound seemed to be coming from outside. Cassie left the cat and opened the window again, sticking her head outside.

  “Are you looking for your cat, perchance?” Cassie called to Max. He was standing in the alleyway between the two houses. He looked up at her, and she saw his face break out in a grin. She placed her hand on her chest and forgot to breathe for a moment.

  “Have you seen him?”

  “A plump little thing? Gray and white?”

  “That’s him. He got out last night when we came home.”

  “He’s in here.”

  “How did he get in there?”

  Cassie shrugged. “I guess he jumped on the roof. He was at the window.”

  “Stay there, I’ll be right up.” Cassie watched him disappear around the corner and soon the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

  Cassie opened the door and Mr. Gladstone slipped out into the hallway. The cat took one look at his owner and ran in the opposite direction.

  Max stopped in front of Cassie and bent at the waist, placing his hands on his knees. He must have run up the steps because he was out of breath. “At least I know where he is.”

  “Is he your cat?” she asked.

  “Yes. I brought him with me from New York. He has decided to get out as often as he can and visit the lady cats around town.”

  “Sounds like a rake.”

  Max laughed. “I guess he is.”

  “You call him Mr. Gladstone?”

  “It is better than Cat, which was his name for the first year. I named him after the Prime Minister of England.” He looked at Cassie thoughtfully. “I’m glad to see you are awake.”

  “I don’t recall what happened. Is this your house?”

  “Yes. I hope you like it. You fainted at the stable. I brought you and your father back here. I couldn’t have you staying with a bunch of horses.”

  “Did you… uhm…” Cassie traced an invisible pattern on the floor with her toe, “…change my clothes?”

  Max looked mortified. “Oh heavens no. I had Maybelle help. I wouldn’t want to compromise your reputation.”

  “Is Maybelle your wife?”

  “No. She owns the bakery down the road and lives a few houses down. I’m not married.” Cassie saw a flash of pain cross his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever get married.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have a difficult time… relating to people.”

  “Oh.” Cassie looked around the room. “Thank you for letting me stay here. I’ll quickly make the bed and then I can be on my way.”

  Max stood back up. “You don’t have to leave yet,” he said softly.

  “We have already intruded long enough. I know I destroyed your store yesterday. My father and I should just head out of town.”

  Max didn’t say anything. “Why don’t you come downstairs and have some breakfast.”

  “I really shouldn’t.”

  “Why not? You have to eat before you head out of town.”

  “I don’t want to be indebted.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “It comes with too high of a cost.”

  “You wouldn’t be indebted, Miss Stockton.”

  “Cassie. You may call me Cassie.”

  “Cassie,” he agreed. “I’m Max. How about we go and eat breakfast?”

  Cassie nodded and followed him down the stairs to a dining room. Everything was decorated in the same deep wood with splashes of color on the walls. The floors were hardwood without any carpets.

  “Mr. Gladstone would shred them if given the opportunity,” he told her.

  He left Cassie at a dining room table and disappeared behind a do
or leading away from the room. He returned with a pot of tea and a cup that he placed in front of Cassie.

  “Thank you,” she said, swishing the pot a few times to better brew the tea. “Are you having a cup?” He nodded and returned with another cup and a small pitcher of cream and a box dangling from his finger.

  He placed the box in the center of the table and sat down across from Cassie. She poured her tea and then placed the pot in front of him. Adding a drop of cream, she watched the brew turn a lovely beige color.

  “Father only drinks coffee. Tea was too expensive.” Cassie stirred her tea and placed the spoon on the saucer. “I do prefer tea though. I would get a small box of tea for the holidays from my employer. I’d use those tea leaves over and over again until there was no flavor left.” Cassie shook off the memory. “Do you prefer coffee or tea, Max?”

  “Tea. My mother was Irish. She had tea brought over every few months. It was like an adventure going to the docks to pick up her packages.” He smiled at the memory. “I did make coffee for your father this morning. I don’t think it was very good though. I’ve not had much practice.” He pulled the box back towards him. “Would you like a pastry? I brought them from the bakery this morning.” Cassie hesitated. “Or I can make you eggs and toast. I’m not much of a cook. I have someone that makes meals for me in the evening, but on the weekends I’m on my own.”

  He pulled the string from the box and took out a pastry wrapped in paper and placed it in front of her.

  It was a cream tart with a drizzle of jam on the top. Cassie’s mouth started to water. “Do you have one too?” she asked.

  Max nodded. “I had Maybelle package a variety of sweets since I wasn’t sure what you would like. But you look like a cream tart type of girl.”

  Cassie giggled and took a bite of the tart, allowing the sweetness to explode on her mouth. “Oh, this is so good,” she said between bites.

  “You mentioned a Mrs. Pennyworth told you to come to the haberdashery yesterday.”

  Cassie nodded and swallowed her bite. “I met her in Ohio. We were trying to figure out where to go to next.”

  “Next?”

  “Yes. We boarded a train from New York, but it only took us as far as Ohio. So, we needed to figure out where we were going from there.”

  “How long were you in Ohio?” Max asked.

  “About three hours. Just long enough to have dinner and purchase a few things at the mercantile there.” Cassie watched him turn his tea cup around three times before taking a sip. “She, I mean Mrs. Pennyworth was the one that told me to come to Creede.” Cassie pointed at Max’s tea cup. “Why do you do that?”

  Max looked at her, embarrassment appearing on his face. “Do what?”

  “I apologize. I didn’t mean to intrude. It is rare to see anyone deliberately turn their cup like that. I noticed you opened and shut the door in the store three times as well. What does it mean?”

  Max relaxed a little. “It’s quite alright. I like order. Sequences. It brings me comfort.”

  “Oh. Is there something wrong with you?”

  Max stiffened. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with me. I’ve been this way most of my adult life.” Since the accident, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought of this young woman looking at him with distain.

  “I am sorry.” Cassie giggled. “I guess I spend most of my time apologizing to you.”

  “It does seem to be a habit of yours.” He took a sip of his tea. “Why did you leave New York?”

  Cassie sighed. She didn’t want to tell the whole truth, but she could at least tell her portion of the truth. “I ran away from someone that wanted to marry me.”

  “You were engaged?”

  “No. My father’s employer insisted on marrying me to pay a debt.”

  “That’s terrible. What kind of father would sell you to pay a debt?”

  “Oh no. It’s not like that. I don’t know the particulars, but Father and Charles, my brother, insisted we leave town before he came for me.”

  “Who was he?”

  Cassie shivered. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we talk about something else?”

  Max tilted his head at her. “Alright then, I won’t press you for anything else. Tell me more about your Mrs. Pennyworth.”

  “I don’t know what to say. She is rather odd, appearing and disappearing at the most peculiar times.” Cassie finished her tart and licked crumbs from her fingers. “May I have another tart? It was so good.”

  Max pushed the box over to her. Cassie looked inside at the various pastries. She chose a small tart with what looked like a jam filling.

  “Have you never had pastries before?”

  Cassie shook her head. “Not like this. Most of our money went for rent and basic provisions. There was very little left over for anything else.”

  “Where did you live in New York?”

  “We lived in a tenement on the east side with twelve other families. It was small, very noisy and rather smelly. It was nothing like your house here.” Cassie broke off a piece of the tart crust. “You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you. I rather like it. I worked hard for everything I have.”

  “Have you been in Creede long?”

  “About two years. I was a fabric buyer in New York. One day I decided I didn’t like the conditions of my employment, so I packed up and left without looking back.”

  “So, you and Mr. Gladstone found Creede?”

  “Actually, the train I was on was robbed and I had just enough for a ticket here and a room for a week. That gave me enough time to wire home and have more money sent. I just didn’t know that the town was about to dry up.”

  “Dry up?”

  “This was a mining town. It burned down in ’91, right after I arrived. Many of the buildings north of town were destroyed. There were many unscrupulous men that arrived in town. The man who sold me the shop took the money and ran.

  About a week later I found out why. Miners don’t wear fancy frocks, and unless they are working, they would much rather spend their hard-earned dollars at the saloon instead of a clothing store.”

  “Where were you headed?”

  “Anywhere west.”

  Cassie was silent for a moment. “How did you know where to find me last night?”

  “It appears we have a mutual friend.”

  “Who?”

  Before Max could respond, her father walked in the room.

  “Maximillian, I went through all the pants in your office. These aren’t double hemmed. It makes a difference in the quality,” he said, his crooked finger pointing to the bottom of the pants. “If they are charging you more than $1 a pair, they should be double-hemmed.”

  Max pulled the trousers over and looked at the cuff. “They appear to be hemmed correctly.”

  “This is a single hem,” he said, pointing to where the fabric was just folded once. “And you can see that the edges weren’t sewn so if the tacking fails, the pants leg will fray.” Her father sat down next to Max and picked up the pants. He flipped the fabric back and forth. “A double-hem is where they stitch along the edge of the fabric to prevent fraying. It is then folded over twice and tacked. You can’t see the edging and if something happens with the first fold, the second fold will keep the hem in place.”

  “What are you doing, Father?” Cassie asked.

  “Hal offered to take a look at the pants I just received. Your father knows quite a bit about the garment industry.” Hal? Max was calling her father by his Christian name.

  “I can’t imagine,” Cassie said dryly.

  “You know,” Hal offered. “We could help you fix these. Cassie is an excellent seamstress. It would bring you an extra twenty-five cents a pair.”

  “I think there are several women in town that take in sewing,” Max commented.

  “Perhaps. But you would have the ability to measure each customer and have them fixed right there on the spot. Is there a tail
or in town?”

  “No, there isn’t. Everything is shipped already made, apart from the fabric in the dry good stores.”

  “Father is correct. I worked at one of the factories back home.” Max raised his eyebrow and looked at her.

  “What did you do?” Max inquired.

  “I finished the pants and jackets before they were ready to sell.”

  “So, you understand notions?”

  “Notions?”

  “Threads and stuff, girlie. Like what you were doing back home.”

  Cassie looked from her father back to Max. “Uh… yes, I do know about needles and thread quality.”

  Max seemed to be giving careful thought to what her father was saying. “So, you think we can get an extra 25 cents per pair of pants if they are double hemmed?” Her father nodded. “How much would it cost me?”

  “You pay what you think is fair. How about per pair of pants finished?” Hal offered.

  Max nodded. “I think that is a fine idea. We can start Monday.”

  “Why not today or tomorrow?”

  “Today you need to rest and recover from your journey. Miss Cassie here,” he said pointing to her, “desperately needs to bathe, and so do you, Hal. Tomorrow is church. I rest on Sundays.”

  Cassie stopped going to church when her mother died. Her father didn’t want to attend with her, and she didn’t want to go alone.

  “I don’t do church.”

  “Well then I hope you have the money to stay at the hotel because the boarding rooms are full and if you are under my roof, you go to church.”

  Cassie gave a gasp. No one had dared stand up to her father.

  “I guess I should make arrangements for us to go to the hotel,” Cassie said, standing.

  “Sit down, Cassie,” Max said. “You don’t need to leave unless you want to. You are welcome to stay here until you find more permanent housing.”

  “I couldn’t leave my father.”

  “It’s alright, girlie. It is time for you to spread your wings. You don’t need to keep worrying about me. I’ll collect my belongings. Monday morning, eh?” Hal said, scratching his chin. Max nodded.

  It was a good sign, Cassie thought as she watched her father leave. At least he hadn’t yanked the job away from them.