by Karen Cogan
“At least he wasn’t out drinking,” Kathleen murmured.
“He was just leaving when I got there.”
Kathleen sighed. “If he would eat instead of drink he wouldn’t be so thin.”
“That’s true,” Collin admitted. “I’m afraid whiskey fills a lot of lonely hours for these men.”
“And you, Collin, are you a drinking man?” Papa asked.
“I’ve been known to enjoy an occasional ale.”
“Give me a fine wine instead.”
“I don’t know how you stand either.” Kathleen wrinkled her nose. “I know I’m not very refined, but I’d prefer a glass of sweet lemonade.”
The men broke off their debate as Papa looked directly at Collin. “As you can tell, my daughter is a sweet, unworldly girl.”
“I suppose that’s the reason I respect her so much. And I enjoy her company. That’s why I came to see if she’d like to take a short walk.”
“I would enjoy another walk. Let’s go before it gets too chilly.”
Her father’s gaze lingered as they started down from 10th Street towards Snowden.
Kathleen looked back and gave him a little wave. Farther down she paused in front of the Wingate house. “Don’t you think it’s pretty? It reminds me of my house in St. Louis only our house wasn’t quite as large or impressive. The Wingates must employ a servant or two. I had a friend who had a butler and several maids. I spent the night there often. I used to pretend I was a princess when I stayed with her. You can’t imagine how it feels to have someone picking up after you all the time, answering your door, cooking and serving your meals.”
“That must have been a treat for you. When you live in luxury all the time I suppose you come to expect it.”
“I’m sure you’re right though my friend was not spoiled in the ways I would have expected. I admired that about her.”
He took her hand. His warm fingers closed around hers exciting her senses. She would have chaffed if Martin had taken this liberty, would have felt that he was telling the men of Silverton that she belonged to him. Yet, with Collin it seemed a tender gesture of intimacy, a bond in which they shut out the world instead of confronting it. She could not fathom why Collin affected her so deeply.
She admired his finely chiseled features. A Roman statue come alive with mischievous green eyes. They moved down Snowden walking past the schoolhouse before turning back on Green Street.
“Isn’t it terribly expensive to stay in town?”
“It costs a little more, but the comfort was worth the extra money. I’m still able to save by being careful with my expenses. The disadvantage is having to get up extra early each morning to get to work.”
She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here in town.” She felt vindicated in her assessment of him. He could afford to stay in town because he didn’t spend his money on vices. She admired the way he was pulling himself up from meager circumstances seeking to make something of himself.
Collin released her hand as they approached her house.
Papa had already gone inside taking the chairs with him.
Kathleen lingered with Collin reluctant to leave him.
“It seems a long time until our picnic on Sunday,” he said softly.
Inwardly Kathleen agreed. “I’ll spend the week planning our menu.”
Collin brightened. “I’ll have time on the weekends to do some hunting. I could bring you some fresh meat to store over the winter.”
“I’d like that. I’m sure Papa would appreciate it, too.”
Papa opened the front door to peer out. “Don’t catch cold, Kathleen.”
Collin doffed his hat. “I’ll see you Sunday. We’ll hike along Mineral Creek.” His square shoulders disappeared into the gathering twilight.
Papa held the door open for her to pass inside. “I was worried that you might catch a chill.”
“It’s just now beginning to get cold.”
Papa tugged on his graying whiskers. “How well do you know this young man?”
“We talked at the church picnic today. We’re going on another picnic and a hike along a creek next Sunday.”
Papa tugged harder. “By yourselves?”
Kathleen had not really thought about propriety when she had agreed to their plans.
“He may seem like a decent sort, but you can’t possibly know him very well. If you’re determined to do this I think I should go along. I won’t get in the way. I’ve heard there’s good fishing in these parts. Since you’re hiking the creek I wouldn’t mind trying my hand at it. Then I could be out there close by in case you need me.”
Kathleen sighed. To be alone with Collin was the goal. She’d never resented Papa’s protectiveness. And now that she was all that he had left in the world she could not bear to worry him. “I’m sure Collin won’t mind if you fish the creek while we hike. You can join us for the picnic.”
“That would make me feel better.”
Kathleen set to work finishing the stuffed mattress covers.
Would Papa have been so worried if Martin had invited her to go on a hike?
5
Collin reached the far end of Green Street just as two shadowy figures stepped from behind a bushy pine and directly into his path. He tried to make out their faces.
The burlier of the two was a great, bear-like man who sported thick black whiskers. He spoke for the pair. “We come to give you a warning. That girl is not for the likes of you.” He poked Collin in the chest. “You’re a fool strutting yourself ‘round town with her like you was somebody. I’ve come to warn you that it had better stop.”
Collin glared from one whiskered face to the other. “Who sent you to give this warning?”
The smaller man spit a wad of tobacco. “Don’t concern yourself with that. Just remember what we told you and you won’t get hurt.”
Collin’s heart thudded, his blood ran hot with anger. “I know who sent you. You don’t have to tell me. And you can tell that coward, Long, that if he has anything to say to me he can say it himself.” He shoved roughly past the men.
They didn’t try to stop him, but the larger man called after him. “I told my friend, Willy, that you weren’t smart enough to listen. Looks like I was right.”
“You and Willy can mind your own business and stay out of mine.” Collin spoke loud so they’d hear. Clenching his fists he stormed up the stairs to his room.
Martin Long had sent henchmen to warn him. The man had expressed an interest in Kathleen equal to Collin’s own. And wasn’t it like Martin to hire his dirty work done in the dark paths and alleys of Silverton? The last man who had crossed Long had ended up suspiciously dead. Several others had been run out of town. But no one did anything because there was no proof.
Well he was one man who would not be scared away. He opened his dresser to run his fingers along the cold butt of the ivory-handled pistol. He knew how to use it if Long was foolish enough to challenge him. And if he was taken by surprise he knew how to use his fists. His father had taken great pains to make sure he didn’t raise a weakling.
His grandfather had grown up swinging as he forged his way towards his fortune. Consequently, Collin’s father had such great respect for self-defense that he made sure his son followed the time-honored tradition and learned to fight when he was still a young boy. The knowledge had served him well. In his previous fast and loose lifestyle on more than one occasion drawing on his skill had saved his sorry hide from much larger men he’d knocked cold.
Collin sank onto the bed and pulled off his boots. He wasn’t afraid of Long, only annoyed by the power that money bought the man. Long was most probably capable of arranging for a bullet in his back.
He lit candles and locked his door. Lying back on his bed he took a rumpled letter from his bureau and scanned the small, tight writing that his father had penned: “I was glad for your letter saying you’ve settled in and are making your own living. Even better that you are saving what you earn.
If you can break your bad habits there may be hope for you yet. As you know, your inheritance hangs on your success.”
How long would it take for his father to understand that he was a changed man? He crumpled the paper and tossed it away hardly caring anymore about the answer to his question.
When he had first arrived he had desperately missed the amusements and luxury of his former lifestyle. But as the days turned to weeks he found a certain pride in providing for himself by the work of his own hands.
And now that he was out of the circle of his gambling and drinking friends he had ceased to long for smoke-filled nights spent whiling away his cash. What had once seemed necessary to his existence did not intrigue him anymore. Perhaps there was more of his grandfather in him than he had ever realized.
Blue eyes and creamy skin drifted into his mind’s eye. Though he’d not intended to seek Kathleen out that evening he’d found himself restless and hungry for her company. How easily she could become an addiction. And unlike the unwholesome addictions of his former life he had the feeling this one would be much harder to get rid of should the need arise.
Kathleen tidied the house on Monday morning before she joined Papa at the store. A steady flow of female customers kept them busy. When Kathleen remarked that she’d met most of them at the church picnic, Papa grinned. “I encourage your church going. I believe it’s increasing our sales.”
“Next Sunday it’s your turn to get to know the church men,” she teased in return.
“I’ll look forward to it. In fact, I’ll go to the next picnic if Vic is in any condition to run the store.”
Vic had not returned from his errand of delivering half a dozen jars of jelly to the hotel. Kathleen had protested when Papa allowed him to go. The morning whisky tremble had not even left his hands. She was sure he would drop the entire batch.
“He kept things going until we got here.” Papa gently reproved her. “We owe him the courtesy of our trust. Unreliable as he is there are times when we need his help.”
Vic had returned.
Kathleen walked home at noon to warm up their stew. Papa would be along shortly to join her. The day was sunny with a cerulean sky unmarred by a single cloud. The mild, pine-scented breeze wafted here and there. Its warmth made her forget the chill that greeted her when she’d crept out of bed. It amazed her that so cold a morning could give way to an afternoon soaked in the heat.
She had intended to take the route down Green Street straight to her house. As she reached the corner where she could turn onto Blair she was gripped with a morbid curiosity too strong to resist. What did Blair Street, that notorious thoroughfare that she had been so vigorously warned to avoid, look like? Would a close look reveal a squalid shantytown or were they well-kept, in spite of their uses?
She turned down the side street and onto Blair. It would only be a slight detour and she would still reach home in plenty of time to make lunch.
Her heart beat with the excitement of the forbidden as she glanced along the street.
Plank buildings were already weathered by the harsh winters. All were quiet now resting until the rowdy night crowds arrived.
She passed the town square and the Town Hall which sat right next to the Stone Saloon. Several men lingered outside. They stared at her their bold assessment missing nothing.
Kathleen’s cheeks flamed as heat rushed up her neck. She quickened her pace and hurried past them. She passed a two story building with the words, “Welcome” lettered on the ground floor windows and “B. Matties” above the top floor.
Two young women, one with hair bleached too blonde, the other colored too dark, sat together on the plank sidewalk outside the doors. Clothed only in dressing gowns they stretched their limbs languidly in the warmth reminding Kathleen of house cats let out for a bit of sun.
She would have avoided staring if she had not recognized one of the women as the girl Collin had helped home, the one Vic had spoken to on the street corner. Was this where she lived?
Kathleen shuddered.
She was sure the girl had seen her, too. Would it be rude not to speak as she walked directly past them? She decided that no matter what the young woman did for a living she could not pass her by as though she didn’t exist.
She paused with a hesitant smile. The girl met her eyes with a hostile gaze that took Kathleen by surprise. “We met at my father’s store. I wondered if your ankle is all right,” Kathleen stuttered.
Without a blink of her green cat’s eyes, the girl said, “I remember you. My ankle is fine.”
“I’m glad.” Kathleen faltered, feeling uncomfortable, yet unwilling to walk away. Something about the girl’s self-imposed shell challenged her to get inside. “I’m Kathleen Morris.”
The eyes narrowed, assessing her with no smile, no indication of interest. She flicked a spot of lint from her clothing. “I’m Polly. This is Noreen.”
Kathleen nodded to Noreen. “If you ever want to visit come by the store. I’m there most days with my father.”
Polly gave a snort of mirth. She turned to Noreen. “I can just see us, can’t you, Noreen? Hobnobbing with the ladies of the town as they pick out their dry goods.” She tipped her pale face towards the sun as she studied Kathleen. “You run back to your store, sweetie, and forget about us. We get all the company we need.”
Kathleen’s cheeks grew hot at their lewd laughter. Perhaps it had been a mistake to stop since they seemed determined to reject her friendship. She drew up as tall as possible and gave them a formal nod. “I have to go so I’ll wish you a good day.” With a swish of skirts she sped down the block and turned the corner towards home. They had laughed at her effort to befriend them. That would not happen again. She would stay off Blair Street. She wasn’t curious any more.
She got home and slung her bonnet onto a hook. In the kitchen she got busy with lunch heating biscuits and leftovers from their dinner last night. She had just got it bubbling on the stove when Papa popped in looking especially cheerful.
“You must have had a good morning after I left,” she said.
“I’d say the store is proving itself, wouldn’t you? In the few days we’ve been here we’ve made a profit each day. I’ll easily have enough to order winter supplies on the next train.”
She nodded absently as she spooned up their stew. “That’s good. We won’t have to dip into our savings to see us through the winter.”
“No we won’t, though I’ve found a use for the money brought by selling our house in St. Louis.” He took a bite of his stew.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I’d hoped to surprise you when I got us moved in, but I don’t think I can hold it in.” He looked like the cat that swallowed a bird.
“What have you done?”
He cleared his throat. “I never intended for this to be our permanent house. And I found out today that a family has moved out of a very nice place on the far end of Blair Street. I looked at it after you left.”
Kathleen could only stare at her Papa’s cherubic face. “Blair Street. That’s a terrible place.”
“Not at the end we’d be on. It is very respectable with several nice houses.”
“But we just got here.”
“A house that was abandoned by a miner is no place for a young woman to entertain her callers. I wanted to get you out from above the store, but I never intended to settle here. So I waited until something turned up, knowing that you’d worry about the money and tell me we’re just fine where we are.”
“But you are doing it all for me when we really are fine. If you’d come here alone you wouldn’t be talking about moving to a finer house.”
“I might. We have the money. What else should I do with it?”
“Save it. You might need it for your old age unless I marry well.” She smiled, and then grew serious. “You won’t want to always run a store each day. What about when you get too old? Will you trust Vic?”
“If I’m right
, Silverton will grow so fast that we’ll make a fortune off the store in the next few years. Then I could sell the house for a nice profit and move anywhere I like. If I even want to.”
She smiled at his optimism. “I hope you’re right.”
“I want you to see the house. It has six nice rooms. Three bedrooms, a large kitchen, a dining room and a parlor that is big enough for a piano. I know you have missed playing ours since we sold it in St. Louis.”
She could not help grinning at his enthusiasm. “I think you are getting carried away.”
“Maybe. But I have made up my mind. I want you to go and see it this afternoon. Get a key from Mr. Evers at the bank.”
“All right. I’ll go right after I get our dishes cleared away.”
Papa wrote the address on a slip of paper and left it when he went back to work.
In spite of the objections she’d raised, Kathleen could not deny a mounting excitement fueled by the prospect of a home of which she could be proud.
This house had splintered wall boards and rough floors. She had plans to make it better, but even at its best—clean and with new curtains—it would never be an attractive house.
She washed and dried their plates and was just replacing the coffeepot on the stove when someone knocked at the door. She hoped it wasn’t Martin. She didn’t want to see him, to hear him tell her that he could give her a finer house than any in Silverton.
Nancy stood on her stoop. Her relief was short lived when her friend came in wearing a scowl on her sable brow and shaking her finger at Kathleen.
Kathleen stared at her, puzzled.
“Whatever were you thinking? Tom said he was doing business at the Town Hall and saw you walking down the very worst part of Blair Street. Surely someone has warned you that nice women do not go there.” Nancy sank onto the settee and fanned herself as she rambled on. “But you are new here. I should have told you. But you must not do it again.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life.” She wanted to change the subject. “Apparently not all of Blair Street is bad. Papa says he’s found another house for us. He’s written the address down and wants me to go by the bank and get the key.”
