Silverton: Claims On The Heart (10 page)

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He held her tightly as though she was a fairy gift, likely to disappear at any moment. He had never known a woman as beautiful and fearless as Kathleen. She had come out here to begin a new life. Her optimism and enthusiasm were like sparkling jewels offsetting the carnal, and sometimes violent, elements of the town. He wanted to promise to protect and provide for her, to make sure she never wanted for anything. Yet, how could he when coming into his fortune was at the discretion of his father? All he had in the world was the savings he had managed from his job at the mine.

A sudden determination flamed within him as he held this woman in his arms. He would not be dependent upon his father. He would make his own fortune. He had the funds, small as they were, to make his investment though he'd been wavering in indecision. Now he knew he would risk what he had in the hope of making more so he could provide for a family, for this woman.

He could tell from the lodes in the mine that silver was playing out. But there was gold. He had seen the promise of it. Gold would be the future of Silverton. And he would be ready when it was mined. As ready as his father was to invest in the railroads and expand the family fortune.

Stan's voice pulled Collin from their embrace.

Kathleen's father had fished his way towards them along the stream.

Kathleen stepped away from Collin and patted her hair back into place.

“I probably shouldn't have done that, but I can't say as I'm sorry,” Collin said.

“I'm not sorry, either.”

He admired her honesty. She wasn't afraid to own up to her own feelings.

She secured a stray tendril beneath a hair pin. “I'd better get back to my father. He'll be sure I've found some way to fall in and break my bones, and he would be nearly right.”

The sunlight play across her delicate face and entranced Collin. With a great effort, he took her hand and led her back.

Stan was standing downstream. When he saw them climbing down the trail he waved and held up a string of fish. “I haven't lost my touch. Three nice fish and I hardly had to try.” He grinned at Kathleen. “Fried fish would taste mighty fine for supper.”

Kathleen turned to Collin. “You'll come, won't you? If not for you, we wouldn't have the fish.”

He hesitated a heartbeat hoping he wasn't pressing his welcome. Yet the opportunity to spend more time with Kathleen filled him with longing. She intoxicated him, giving him restless nights and filling his thoughts when they were apart. He would rather be with her than anywhere else on earth. “I'd be happy to come if it's all right with your pa.”

Stan looked a little unsure, but managed a nod.

 

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Kathleen smiled. She was having a wonderful time. And now it need not end after the picnic. The promise of an evening with Collin made her feel giddy with anticipation. She hoped after today her father would understand why she found his company so enjoyable.

“What do you say about trying some of that chicken you brought along?” Papa asked Kathleen.

“Let's do. Hiking makes me hungry.”

They strode back along the stream bank until they reached the tall pine that guarded their basket.

Kathleen laughed at the pair of chipmunks that skittered away and disappeared behind a rock. “I bet they feel cheated out of their lunch.”

“Better chipmunks than a bear. A bear would have finished this off by now,” Collin said.

Kathleen had never considered the possibility. She glanced nervously up the bank at the trees. “Shouldn't we have a gun?”

“Better a shotgun, but I don't think we'll be needing it. I haven't seen any sign of a bear. But if one wanted our food we'd let him have it.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

Kathleen took a blanket from atop the basket and shook it out for them to sit.

They passed around chicken, cold rolls, and fresh slaw.

“Did you find the waterfall?” Papa asked.

“Yes.” They stumbled over each other to answer.

“It was not very tall, but it was very pretty,” Kathleen said.

Their conversation drifted to places they had seen.

Papa shared his memories of St. Louis when he was a boy.

Kathleen glanced behind them every now and then to make sure they were not about to become a picnic for some wild beast.

When their appetites were sated, they sat under the tree talking lazily about their hopes for the future.

“I've been thinking about getting a couple of cows. Milk is expensive when you can get it. Bet I could sell the extra at the store,” Papa said.

Kathleen grimaced. “And who would milk those cows?”

“I would. First thing every morning. I used to milk cows when I was a boy. Haven't lost my touch.”

“I've never milked a cow,” Collin admitted. “Never had to in the city.”

“You young folks are spoiled. I could teach you a thing or two about how to live off the land.”

 

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Collin thought about his pampered past, the hot chocolate served with his breakfast, the finest wine with his meals. But that was all changed, now. He was on his own, and he'd developed an appreciation for the struggle most people faced to earn a decent existence in this world.

Chilling shadows crept into their haven under the tree. They shook out the blanket, picked up the remains of their lunch, and walked back in companionable silence until they reached the edge of town.

Collin cast a glance at the fish. “I'd be glad to clean those for you.” He was proud of his skill, newly acquired from the miner who'd taught him to fish. Though he'd eaten many a fish, he'd never had to clean one before he moved here.

Stan shook his head. “I'd like to finish the job. I want to see if I can fillet them the way I used to do.”

“All right. I'll go by the boarding house and clean up.” He turned to Kathleen. “What time would you like me back?”

 

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Kathleen wanted to tell him she'd be pleased to have him come right along with them. But remembering her disarrayed hat pins, she decided that she might need a little freshening, too. “I'll have supper done by six.”

Collin nodded. “Six, it is.” He turned for the boarding house.

“What did you think of him?” Kathleen asked her father as they walked home.

“He's less rough around the edges than I expected. I don't know what to make of him.”

“You'll get to know him better over supper,” Kathleen predicted.

Collin arrived on the dot of six.

Kathleen was turning the fillets that Papa had carefully prepared. The smell of fish and browned cornmeal filled the house and made her mouth water.

Papa showed Collin to the kitchen.

Collin held out a handful of lemons. “I would have brought wine, but I understand that you prefer lemonade.”

Kathleen smiled. “I much prefer lemonade.” She took a pitcher off the shelf and sliced the lemons.

Stan took over stirring the fried potatoes.

”Collin, could you carry the pitcher and glasses to the table?” Kathleen asked. She put the fish on a platter and added a bowl of greens. When it was all on the table, it made a tasty looking supper.

Papa prayed over the food and they passed it around.

Collin tried everything and was enthusiastic in his praise.

Kathleen was glad that, unlike some of her friends, she had learned to cook.

Papa peered at Collin over the top of his round spectacles. “You know all about where we came from, what we did back home. Tell us a little about yourself. What business is your family into?”

Kathleen waited for Collin's reply.

He seemed to hesitate before he said, “My granddaddy came over dirt poor from Ireland. He settled in the east and worked odd jobs until going to Kansas City with the railroad. Railroad got into our blood until I changed tradition by working in mining.”

Papa raised his brows. “Surely your father's not still laying line?”

“No. He saved a little nest egg to live on.”

“And your mother?”

“She died when I was very young. I don't remember much about her. Pa never remarried. The McAllisters are one-woman men.” His gaze trailed over to Kathleen.

Her cheeks warmed at the possible implication.

“And you are an only child?” Papa asked.

“Yes.”

“It must have been a rough life for you dragging from town to town with your father,” Stan continued.

Collin hesitated before he answered. “He left me with my grandfather when he had to be gone.”

“How wonderful that you got to know your grandfather so well,” Kathleen said. “I have so many good memories of the times I spent with my grandparents.”

“Not all of my memories are good ones. My grandfather used to stand me in front of him with my hands on a table and make me recite my multiplication facts. For each wrong answer, he'd give my knuckles a crack. I learned them fast,” Collin said.

“He sounds cruel,” Kathleen sympathized.

“Not cruel, just hard. He was hard on my father, too.”

“And was your father hard on you?” Kathleen asked.

Collin seemed to draw into himself. “Not as hard as he wished he'd been.”

Kathleen decided to change the subject. She turned to her father. “Collin says he can get us fresh meat to use and to sell.”

Papa put down his fork. “That might be a useful business proposition.”

“I'm not looking to sell it, just give it away. I have no use for the meat. I eat my meals at the boarding house.”

“Then I certainly won't refuse,” Papa replied.

Kathleen excused herself to fetch the pie she'd made from dried apples. She was not surprised to find it was the hit of the meal.

“I haven't ever had a pie this good,” Collin said.

Papa beamed at her. “Kathleen is a mighty fine cook.”

“That she is,” Collin agreed.

After their fill of pie, the men helped clear the table and clean up the dishes. When the kitchen was orderly, they retired to the parlor.

Papa settled into an overstuffed chair and lit his pipe. “It's nice to have a comfortable home,” he said. “Women find it especially important.”

Kathleen stared at him; sure that he meant the comment for Collin's behalf.

Collin nodded. “I'm sure that's true. Like I told you, I hardly remember my mother. I grew up in a man's world. But I've seen my share of men who value property above all else, and money becomes a god.”

“Well, I'm a woman, and I think I've proved that owning the finest things is not my goal in life,” Kathleen protested.

Papa waved his hand through a puff of smoke as though to defend himself from their observations. “Of course anything can be taken too far, including the quest for wealth. I just know that you, Kathleen, are too brave and adventuresome to worry about the toll that a life of struggle can take.”

Kathleen knew he was imagining her dragging along beside Collin from one grimy mining town to another, a band of thin, dirty children at their heels. But Collin had not asked her to marry him, nor would she do so unless he could provide a living that would keep them from starving. That being so, whether it be Collin, or a man she had not yet met, she knew she would prefer a frugal existence with a man she loved rather than a wealthy one without love.

“I am also practical. I don't pretend to think that a life of poverty would be a badge of honor,” Collin stated.

“I suppose it's easier if it's all you've ever known,” Papa speculated, his gaze lingering on Collin.

 

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Stan's point was not missed by Collin. The man was worried that he would woo Kathleen and lure her into a life of want. Kathleen was used to comfort, if not extravagance. Stan obviously prided himself on having provided that for his family.

He had no idea of the determination Collin possessed to do the same. He met Stan's look with a level gaze. “I don't think it's easy either way. But I suppose it can be harder not to resent a downward change of fortune.” He knew that from personal experience.

Kathleen sighed. “Can't we talk about something more pleasant?” She fixed her intense blue eyes on Collin. “I've been meaning to ask if you know where we could get a kitten, maybe a fat little tabby.”

“A kitten?” Stan asked.

She smiled at her father. “Yes. I miss having a cat. I remember the cat we had when I was a little girl. We could use one now to keep field mice from settling in the house.”

“I remember when I got that cat. It was for your fourth birthday,” Stan said. “You named her Missy.”

“She was fat and lazy, yet I loved her,” Kathleen said.

Collin found himself imagining her as a little girl with shiny pigtails, happy with her kitten. It was such a small thing to give her pleasure. He jumped at the chance to find her a new pet, to see her eyes light up as she took a warm ball of fur from his arms. “I'll check around and see what I can find. There are usually several litters of kittens around.”

She beamed at him, warming his heart. “That would be wonderful. You can help me name her.”

Collin laughed. “We never had cats, only dogs with names like Goliath and Duke. I'm afraid my suggestions might not suit her.”

Kathleen smiled in return. “Maybe I'll name her myself.”

Stan grew misty-eyed when he talked of the little pony he'd had as a boy.

They reminisced about pets until it grew late.

Collin stood and retrieved his hat. “It's been the best Sunday afternoon in a long time. Thanks for the food and good company.”

Kathleen walked him to the door. “I enjoyed it, too. Thanks for taking us on the hike.”