Silverton: Claims On The Heart Page 9

  “So it was a drunken brawl over a saloon girl?” she asked through tight lips.

  Vic shook his head. “Nope. I don’t recall ever seein’ Collin in a saloon. Maybe the guy wanted to rob him. Happens here, you know.”

  “Yet he knew the girl?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Papa came in from making a delivery, and they told him what had happened.

  “Probably a robbery,” Papa agreed.

  “He don’t look too pretty, but he’ll be back at his boarding house by tomorrow,” Vic predicted.

  Assured that he’d be all right, Kathleen forced herself back to work. Yet she had a hard time keeping her mind from wondering about the girl who had been eager to minister to him. It was really no business of hers. It would simply be a letdown if he was not the man she’d hoped. In a day or two, she would take him a pot of chicken soup. Maybe then, she would find out what had really happened.

  

  Collin opened his eyes again when evening shadows filled the room. From where he lay on a cot, he squinted to see a square, dirty window and a rough packing crate that sat beside him to serve as a table. A tin cup sat on the crate. Collin reached for it and managed to get a few sips of water past his painful lips. Now that he had come fully conscious, every inch of his body was throbbing in pain.

  He began to go over the details of the attack in his mind. He had not gotten a good look at the faces of the men. It had been too dark. Yet he remembered the build of the two who had confronted him on Martin’s behalf. He felt sure Martin was behind this, especially since Martin had just warned him against taking Kathleen on a picnic. He became doubly determined that Martin would not get what he wanted. He would not scare Collin away from Kathleen; send him cringing away like a rat to his hole. Collin would take to carrying his pistol, and if he had to, he’d use it. Or die trying.

  

  In late afternoon, Martin came by the store, looking very dapper in a frock coat and soft gray vest. He doffed his fashionable bowler hat as he spotted Kathleen.

  She wiped her hands on her apron and was uncomfortably aware that it needed washing.

  Martin did not seem to notice. “I came to invite you to have supper with me.”

  Kathleen glanced at Papa, sure he had heard the conversation. “I don’t know. I usually make supper for my father.”

  Papa spoke up. “You go on ahead. I’ll warm up some stew. You’ve been working hard all day. It’ll do you good to get out.”

  “But Papa…”

  “Kathleen, I think you need to enjoy yourself after your hard work today.” Papa’s voice was firm.

  Kathleen could only think of Collin, but her father’s tone brooked no argument. Papa rarely pushed her to do anything against her will, but in this instance, the slight tightening of his mouth indicated he was vexed with her. Perhaps he saw something in Martin that she failed to see? Not wanting to displease him, she acquiesced. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  She turned to Martin. “I accept your kind invitation. What time should I be ready?”

  “Is six thirty all right?”

  “That will be fine.”

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” His tall frame disappeared down the street.

  Collin was injured while she enjoyed herself. Yet Vic had assured her Collin was mending. He had other friendships. Perhaps it was best that she have Martin as a friend, too. Papa seemed to think spending the evening out was just what she needed. But she would go by the boarding house tomorrow and see if Collin needed anything.

  Papa must have noticed her swift change of expression. “You thinking about Collin?”

  Kathleen roused from her musing and said, “I guess I was.”

  “I wouldn’t pity him too much, if I was you. A drifter like him probably keeps company with some pretty seedy characters. Likely it was a gambling debt that got him beat up.”

  Was Collin a gambler? A carouser? Her heart refused to believe it. Yet how well did she really know him? “You may be right. I’ll take him some soup tomorrow and see what I can find out.”

  Papa clucked his tongue. “You think he’ll tell you the truth?”

  She drew her shoulders straight, her backbone full of spunk. “He’d better. Or he won’t be seeing me again.”

  Papa patted her arm. “That’s my girl. I didn’t raise you to lose your head over any man.”

  

  Kathleen took Martin’s arm as they walked through a brisk wind towards the Grand Hotel.

  He cut a dashing figure in his black frock coat and bowler hat. He wore polished black boots that rose midway up his long legs. His sideburns were neatly trimmed and he smelled faintly of shaving cream.

  The chilly air brought warmth to her cheeks. Her full-skirted maroon dress and crinoline petticoat swished with every step. She had dressed wanting to show that although she might be a shopkeeper’s daughter, she knew how to keep sophisticated company.

  Martin had admired her velvet hat with a feathered plume.

  She had chosen it from a milliner in St. Louis especially to match her dress.

  ”You make a fetching picture and I’d like to have a photograph of you looking just as you do this night. In fact, there’s a man who’s just come to town to work for the newspaper. He takes photographs for the paper. He plans to make some extra money by offering his services to the people of the town, too. I’d like to have him do one of you if you’d allow it. I could get it framed and set it on my desk. We’ll get one for your father, too. I bet he’d like that.”

  Kathleen knew that he would. Yet she hesitated. It seemed too personal to have her photograph sitting on his desk, as if he were trying to own her again. Still, she did not want to dampen the evening by a point-blank refusal of his offer. So she tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

  They entered the foyer.

  Kathleen drew in a sharp breath. She was not easily impressed by pomp and frills. Yet the Grand Hotel had a sculptured ceiling boasting a magnificent crystal chandelier. Velvet embossed floral wallpaper and a rich, plush carpet of navy cushioned her steps.

  They crossed to the hat check and left Martin’s hat and her lace shawl. Then they followed a waiter clad in a starched white shirt into the main dining room, a room that was every bit as impressive as the foyer of the hotel. The tables were decked in crisp linen and gleaming silver serving pieces.

  As they passed along to a center table she was conscious of gazes following them, deferential nods, and murmurs of greeting to Martin. And here she was with him, sharing the attention, dressed in her fine clothes. Perhaps she could learn to like the respect and admiration simply because she caught the attention of a rich and powerful man. She could move within the elite inner circle of the town. This was what everyone wanted for her, wasn’t it?

  Everyone except Collin. And he had let her down.

  She dismissed thoughts of Collin. She would deal with him tomorrow. Tonight belonged to Martin. She turned to him with her brightest smile, intending to acquire affection towards him.

  They dined on quail and roasted potatoes. They had wine that Kathleen tolerated with their dinner and savory peach compote that she thoroughly enjoyed.

  Martin talked at length about his business and his plans for the future. He was proud of his ambitions and did not seem to tire of talking about them. He was making good at the stamp mill. With the profits to invest, he would extend his wealth. Within the next year he planned to build the biggest house in town. His eyes shown with a bright passion as he laid it all out for Kathleen.

  She tried to join in his enthusiasm. Despite her attempt, her attention waned. Hoping to draw him into other areas of interest, she asked about his free time. “Do you enjoy reading?”

  “I read the business papers.” His answer was disappointing. “I don’t have time for much else.” And then he was off again, seemingly determined to impress her by talking about the impo
rtant people of town with whom he rubbed elbows.

  By the end of the evening, she was discouraged to find they shared no common ground. She enjoyed hikes in the woods and church socials. She wondered if Martin could forget his business long enough to enjoy such simple pleasures.

  As he finished his second cup of coffee she studied him. If they were to marry, would they sit together in the evening exchanging opinions and ideas the way her parents had done? Or would he sit buried in his business paper?

  On the way out Martin detoured to steer her towards a group that had just been seated. He put on a cordial smile. “Mayor, it is a pleasure to see you this evening. You look well.”

  “Never been better. We’re out to have a good time while we can. This time of year, you never know when a blizzard might keep you in.”

  Martin nodded sagely. “You never know.”

  The mayor’s gaze lit on Kathleen.

  “I’d like to introduce my lovely lady, Miss Kathleen Morris, recently arrived from St. Louis.”

  Kathleen offered her hand.

  The mayor clasped her fingers in a gentle grasp. “It’s nice to meet you, my dear.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, too. I’ve admired your house since I first saw it.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “The wife would have some of the credit for that. She had strong ideas about what she wanted.”

  The pretty woman on his right elbowed him chidingly. “You like it as well as I do.”

  He patted her hand. “Of course. But it’s hard not to tease you.”

  The lady rolled her eyes. “He’s incorrigible.”

  The other two couples laughed in sympathy, and Martin added a chuckle of his own. They introduced their companions and had a moment of small talk before Martin bade them good evening.

  He seemed very pleased with himself as he escorted Kathleen to the hat check to retrieve their belongings. He winked at her as he helped her with her shawl. “Nice to have friends in high places, eh?”

  “I’m sure it’s helpful to your business,” she replied, feeling a little put out with him for introducing her as his lady.

  The wind had died down. The air was frosty and still. A black velvet sky sparkled with stars.

  Kathleen breathed deeply of the pine scented air. It reminded her of the way their house had smelled every Christmas in St. Louis. A pang of homesickness welled. Up in this high mountain valley she was very far from St. Louis. Life was different here, brash, yet precarious. She was sure the weak or timid didn’t last long before turning tail and running home.

  But there was no hightailing it for Kathleen or her father. No matter how cold or difficult things became this was home now. She and Papa had the store and their own fine house. They would make new memories, good ones.

  As they walked along Martin told her a little about the people who had businesses in the shops they passed. When the shops thinned out at the end of the block he gestured towards a vacant lot. “I plan to put up some new buildings and lease them out. I’ve already been to the bank. Of course, I had no trouble getting the loan. The bank president and I agree that this town is sure to grow.”

  Kathleen decided to voice what was on her mind. “Do you have any real friends here? Not people who are useful to you, but real friends.”

  Martin slowed his pace. He seemed perplexed by her question. After a moment, he said, “Of course, I have friends. I have men who would do anything for me. For a price,” he added with a laugh.

  Kathleen frowned. His answer seemed too close to the truth to bring her comfort. “And you believe if you have enough money it will buy anything you want?”

  He took her elbow and turned her towards him. “Not everything, but a lot. I won’t apologize for being a good businessman. You have to be tough, to have grit, to get ahead in this country. I don’t have any patience for the low-lifes who lie on their bellies and complain. They deserve to be fodder for the mines and mills.” He took a deep breath, and by the dim light passion flared in his eyes. He took her by the shoulders. “It’s no sin to want a good life for myself and those I ask to share it.” He bent and, before she could react, his thin lips bruised against hers in a moist and fervent kiss.

  She pulled back, wanting to wipe away the dampness.

  He released her. “I don’t play games, Kathleen. I’ve made it plain that I want you for my wife. I could give you a good life. But I don’t like to be kept waiting. So think it over and do the smart thing. We could be good together.” He stood outside and watched her make her way into the house.

  Kathleen felt shaken as she locked the inside latch of the door. Her heart was still pounding, not from any passion on her part, but from the sudden shock of his boldness.

  This had been nothing like the warm and exciting kiss she had shared with Collin. And yet Collin had none of the wealth and ambition to recommend him that Martin possessed.

  Papa came awake from his chair beside the fire. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “Yes. It was lovely. The hotel is beautiful.”

  “That Martin knows how to impress a girl. And he’s stuck on you.”

  Kathleen tried to smile. “I suppose that makes me very blessed.” She was tired and more confused than she’d been since she arrived in Silverton. “I think I’ll go on to bed.”

  “Yes. You run along. I’ll sit out here a little longer while the fire burns down.”

  When she awoke in the morning, she crawled from her warm bed to dress hurriedly and join Papa in the kitchen.

  He was just making up the fire in the stove.

  Kathleen hurried to put mush on to boil and fry some bacon to go with it.

  While they ate, she was relieved that he talked about what he was ordering for the store and not about Martin. She offered to mind the store while he ran the list to the depot for supplies that were to be brought back on the train.

  She straightened up the house and put on a pot of soup to simmer for the lunch she planned to share with Collin. Then, she headed off for the store.

  

  Collin stirred restlessly in his room. He sat in his chair and propped his legs up to rest on the window ledge. He had debated going to work that morning, only to realize that his eyes were still too swollen to see well in the darkness of the mine.

  He wished he could bring the law against Martin, who paraded himself as a fine upstanding citizen, yet stooped to any means to get his own way. But he had no proof that Martin was behind the brutal attack. He clenched his fists. He would have to bide his time. Martin would show his hand. And then the town would see him for who he was. That’s what Collin hoped would happen. And he would find a way to have Martin’s nefarious ways exposed.

  

  Late in the morning, Kathleen went to the boardinghouse with hot soup. She knocked on the door and then let herself into the parlor.

  Mrs. McGee looked from Kathleen to the bowl of soup.

  “I’m here to see Mr. McAllister. I heard he’d been injured.”

  Mrs. McGee wiped floury hands on her apron. “The poor boy. It was a shame what happened to him. Those who did it should be locked up. But likely they’ll get away with it instead.” She clucked her tongue. “When I saw him this morning, I like to have cried. I brought him up some breakfast. I don’t think he ate much of it. If you wait here a minute I’ll get a tray and you can carry up some roast goose and corn pone to go with that soup.” Mrs. McGee left and came back with a tray. It held a cup of weak tea and the promised lunch. “I’m sure he’ll be right glad to see you. His room is upstairs. First door on the left.”

  “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

  “No trouble.” Mrs. McGee went back to her kitchen tasks still shaking her head.

  Kathleen carried the tray up the stairs. She knocked on Collin’s door.

  A grunt came from inside.

  She took it as an invitation to enter.

  Collin was sitting on a chair. He stared at her through bruised and squinted eyes. He had purple b
ruises on his cheeks and a cut across his lips that left them puffy. Speaking from the less swollen side of his mouth he said, “Not a pretty sight, is it?” He turned away. Perhaps he was embarrassed.

  She set the tray onto his bureau. “I didn’t come to admire your appearance. I wanted to see if you were all right.”

  With a sigh, he turned back to face her. “It could have been worse.”

  She gestured towards the food. “I made you some soup. Mrs. McGee said you didn’t eat much breakfast so she sent up a tray.”

  He grimaced. “She’s a nice lady. She puttered over me this morning like a mother hen.”

  “I’m no mother hen. But if you don’t eat this soup I’ll have my feelings hurt.”

  He accepted the bowl she handed him and nodded an invitation for her to perch on the bed near his chair. He raised the spoon gingerly and sucked the warm soup. He managed a little goose, and then held out a chunk of corn pone to Kathleen. “Join me?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll have lunch with Papa when he gets home.” She let him eat a bit before the question that nagged her burst forth. “What were you doing over on Blair when you were attacked?”

  “I was walking back from your house.” He looked surprised.

  “I know. But I’m wondering what the fight was about.” She took a deep breath and plunged on before she lost her nerve. “I heard that a young woman took care of you, a friend of yours. Was the fight about her?”

  “The girl from the…?” He broke off and then continued, “I’ve only seen her once before. I helped her home after she hurt her ankle outside your store. She was paying back a kindness.”

  “So you’re telling me that’s all there was between you?”

  One man took her on a picnic, the other to dinner at a fancy hotel and forced a kiss on her. Which did she prefer? She knew the answer. But her mind refused to do as her heart bid.

  9

  “The night I left your house wasn’t the first time I’d met the men who attacked me. They cornered me once in front of the boarding house.”