Courting Kate (5 page)

Taking in the sights and sounds, she wondered if she would ever feel at home in such a place. She dallied, thinking to delay her entry into the hotel a little longer.

Then, down the street, several men left the lights and noise of the saloon and strolled in her direction.

Fearing they might approach her, she gripped the brass doorknob and hurried into the lobby.

The combined stench of smoke, Macassar oil and unwashed bodies assaulted her senses, but the hotel itself seemed much better than other places the stage had stopped for the night.

Cream-colored lace curtains adorned tall narrow windows. Polished brass spittoons sat at strategic locations along the floor beneath pale blue damask-covered walls. Oriental rugs, mud-splattered, but elegant, ran the length of the lobby. Off to one side, visible through open double doors, linen-draped tables denoted the dining room. He was probably waiting for her there.

Taking courage from this vestige of civilization, she moved to the dining room doorway and waited expectantly. Although a number of the tables were occupied, no handsome, smiling gentleman stepped forward to greet her. He had to be here somewhere. She signaled a waiter and gave him a message.
 

The man went from table to table, earning her several curious stares, then the waiter returned, shaking his head. “He isn’t here, miss. You might check with the lobby.”

“I’ll do that, sir. Thank you.” Gathering her composure, she moved toward the hotel desk. Except for a whisky salesman in a garish gold-checked suit, and the hotel clerk, this area, too, was empty.

Waiting until the salesman had left, Kathleen stepped forward and nodded at the bell clerk. “Good evening, sir. Could there by chance be any messages for Miss Kathleen Deveraux?”

The man checked various pieces of paper impaled on a brass spindle. “Nope. No messages.”

While Kathleen felt disappointed that Mr. Blaine hadn’t met her, she also felt relieved. At least this way, she would have a chance for a hot bath and a good night’s sleep before he arrived. Tomorrow she wanted to look her best. She refused to dwell on the possibility that he hadn’t received her letter and might not show up at all.

“I was expecting someone to meet me,” she said. “Since it appears he’s been delayed, I’ll need a room for one night.”

The man peered at her over his glasses. “You leaving on the morning stage?”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

He gave her a suspicious look. “We don’t cater to—”

Gracious me, he thinks I’m a...
“My fiancé will be here to fetch me sometime tomorrow,” she added primly, praying that would indeed be the case.
 

Her answer seemed to satisfy him. He shoved a ledger toward her. “That’ll be six dollars for a first class room. That includes your evening meal.”

Kathleen gasped. “Six dollars? Don’t you have anything less expensive?”

“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.