Silverton: Claims On The Heart (11 page)

“It was my pleasure. I'll come by the store when I find the right cat.”

“I'll look forward to it.”

With a nod and a good night to both of them, he strode into the night.

 



 

Kathleen closed the door, feeling a dreamy smile on her face. She had enjoyed every moment of her time with Collin. And now that Papa had spent time with both men, she felt sure he, too, would prefer Collin's company over Martin's.

“Collin may not have Martin's money, but he's very pleasant to be around, don't you think?”

Papa puckered his graying brows. “There's something about him that bothers me, as if he's not being quite honest about himself.”

Kathleen sighed. There seemed to be no convincing her father, so she told him good night and went to get ready for bed.

 



 

Collin whistled as he cut across town passing down dark streets. As he went past an alley on Blair, he heard the tinny sound of music drifting from the saloons. His boarding house was set off by itself at the end of another long block. His thoughts were on Kathleen and where he might find her a kitten.

He was taken completely by surprise as a hammer-like fist smashed into his temple. He raised his arms to defend his head, and a blow to his stomach knocked him breathless. He squinted trying to see his assailants, but the light from the saloons didn't penetrate the dark alley. He was fighting blind and doubled-over. A blow to his skull left him dizzy.

He struck out blindly hoping to connect. He felt soft flesh and heard a grunt. At the same time, a strong arm stretched around his neck from behind, pulling him backwards and choking him. He thought of the two men who had threatened him at the boarding house; Martin's hired thugs.

It seemed they had watched for him to leave Kathleen's house and cut around to ambush him. And they would kill him right here in this alley unless he could free himself. He jabbed an elbow into the man behind him, and loosened the hold around his neck. He summoned all his strength and battled hard to break away. Something warm and wet ran into his eyes.

Blood.

He was strong and he'd been trained, but even as he landed a hard punch that sent one man to his knees, he wondered if it would be enough to save his life.

 

 

 

 

 

8

 

Collin staggered past the fallen man desperate to put distance between them. He made it to the front of a saloon. Light from the doors illuminated the street. He spun in time to see that the larger man had followed.

The man barreled into Collin knocking him from his feet. Big fists pummeled as Collin struggled to roll away from the blows.

Shouts from the saloon were loud, even as light from the door slanted across his face. Then everything went mercifully black, and he felt no more pain.

He woke to find himself in the back room of the saloon. He squinted through the swollen slits of his eyes to see that it was daylight.

Someone stirred in the room, dabbing his face with cool water. It was a woman clad in a pale wrapper…a ministering angel. He tried to speak and found his lips too thick and painful to move. He closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.

 



 

Monday morning, Kathleen stirred around the store, humming a happy tune. She had brought in some fresh eggs, only to have them snapped up by the first wives to come in. The bread she had baked had sold to a single gentleman who worked at the bank. And they had sold cooking pots to a young family newly moved to town. She was glad she had come in to lend a hand.

Vic was moving sluggishly, no doubt from a late night at a saloon. He usually sobered by mid-morning after a half dozen cups of his strong, bitter coffee. By the time she and Papa returned from lunch Vic was busily sweeping up the store.

Kathleen paused to examine a burlap bag of cornmeal that looked as if it had been gnawed by mice. “Maybe we need two cats, one for home and one for the store. I'll ask Collin to double my request.”

Vic rubbed his chin. “Collin. That the young man that came asking about where you moved to?”

Kathleen nodded. “That was Collin.”

“Too bad what happened to him in the street last night.”

Kathleen's heart gave a jerk. “What happened to him?”

“Well, I just happened to go by to see a friend,” he began.

Kathleen wanted to pull the words from his mouth. She didn't care why he was there. “What happened to Collin?”

“While I was there just visiting with my friend, somebody said there was a fight out in the street. We piled out the door to watch and saw two men tussling. The big guy ran off when we came out. Seems he had a grudge against your friend. Left him pretty beat up.”

Kathleen clutched Vic's sleeve. “Will he be all right?”

“Yeah. He weren't hurt too bad to mend. Take a day or so, though.”

She was frantic to see Collin, to know he was going to be all right. “Where is he?”

“Well…” Vic looked embarrassed. “Somebody had to nurse him, so we carried him to the saloon's back room. One of the girls said she'd look in on him. Seems they was already friends.”

Kathleen paused in her headlong flight to grab her shawl. Saloon or not, she would rush to his side. But the news of his woman friend brought her up short. In a rush of disappointment she realized that he possessed the same weakness as many other men, a weakness she would not put up with. Did he think he could court her, make her believe he cared for her, while he secretly consorted with other women? She had been a fool to believe that she was the only woman in his life.

“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 important people of town with whom he rubbed elbows.