Silverton: Claims On The Heart (16 page)

Collin didn't answer for a moment and his expression turned grim. “I wanted to spend Christmas with you, planned on it, in fact. But I got a letter from my father about three weeks ago. He's asked me to come home for Christmas. And since we have some things to discuss, I think I'd better go.”

They faced each other, shivering in the cold.

“I thought you…that you and your father…well, I didn't think you had any fondness for home.”

He took her arm and they began to walk again. The snow swirled heavier around them.

“We used to have our differences. I'm hoping to mend them.”

“That's good.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “When will you leave?”

“As soon as the snow clears.”

They reached her house and paused on the porch to brush the snow from their clothes.

Kathleen took his sleeve and pulled him inside.

He grinned at her. “Does this mean you'll miss me?”

She stared into his dancing green eyes. “Of course I'll miss you. I had looked forward to spending the holiday together.”

They hung their coats.

Collin grew somber as he pulled her over to the settee. “Something has been weighing on me and you're the only one who has the answer.” He leaned forward studying her carefully.

Her pulse leapt at his serious tone.

He took her hand. “I can't believe you could not know how I feel about you. You captured my heart the first time I saw you. And I'll admit that watching Martin compete for your affection has been harder than any work I've done down in the mine. What I need to know is, how do you feel about me?” His question came with honest sincerity.

Kathleen could not have stopped from blurting the truth. “I love you. I think I always have. I was afraid not to consider Martin since everyone else said he was so perfect.” The words sounded a bit tactless.

Collin did not seem to mind. “When I get back I hope I'll be free to explain some things to you.” He broke off as Papa called from the bedroom.

“Did you bring company? Is that Martin? Ask him to stay for lunch and a visit.”

Kathleen rolled her eyes.

Collin heaved a sigh while giving her a good-natured grin. “I'm about to be a disappointment.”

“Not to me you're not,” she said firmly. Kathleen sent Collin into the kitchen while she went to greet her father. “I've brought Collin home for lunch. He will be out of town for Christmas. I'm going to miss him, Papa,” she added softly.

Papa nodded, resigned. “Just bring me a tray. Then the two of you can eat together.”

“Are you sure? We could join you in here.”

“I'm not much in the mood for company.” His spirits were down. The forced confinement made him grow more lethargic each day. His leg needed to mend. Perhaps then, he would feel useful again.

She heated left-over venison.

Collin sliced bread and cheese.

Kathleen made them each a mug of hot coffee and set Papa's food on a board that served as his tray.

“I'll take it to him if you don't think he'll mind,” Collin volunteered.

“I think he's feeling a little sorry for himself. He said he didn't want company.”

Collin flashed her a grin as he lifted the tray. “I'll just bring in his food, and then leave him in peace.” He disappeared from the kitchen.

Kathleen dished up their lunch. She settled at the table and waited. Finally, she got up to see what was keeping him. She slipped into Papa's room.

Collin was leaning against the armoire telling her father about how he'd shot the buck. “It was pretty exciting. Before I came here, I'd only hunted small game, pheasants, mostly.”

“I've never got a deer, myself. Hunted rabbits when I was a boy,” Papa said.

Kathleen smiled; pleased to see them enjoying each other's company.

Papa caught sight of her. “You two best get to your lunch. We can talk huntin' later.”

She caught Collin's arm as they left the bedroom. “He didn't seem disappointed with your company. I think he likes you.”

Collin raised a sable brow. “But not as well as Martin.”

“I think he's impressed by Martin's money and position. My father has worked hard all his life, and he looks up to success.”

His face clouded. “That sounds familiar.”

Kathleen gave him a quizzical look. His relationship with his father was a mystery to her. She let the subject drop.

 



 

Kathleen didn't see Collin again until the frigid afternoon he came to say good-bye.

Since he wouldn't hear of having her stand shivering at the train station, they said their good-byes in Kathleen's entryway. They clung to one another, lips lingering in a tender kiss, each unwilling to part.

As Collin pulled away he looked down into her eyes. “I'll be back as soon as possible, no longer than three weeks, I hope.”

“I'll miss you.”

He ran a finger tenderly along her cheek. “I don't intend to spend another Christmas away from you, forever.”

Her spirits soared. She could stand a temporary parting if she knew it would be followed by permanent happiness. “Take care of yourself in Kerry Patch. I couldn't stand it if you were to get hurt.”

He stared at her. A small frown creased his brow. “Kerry Patch? Why would I go there?”

“Martin told me you grew up there. I assumed it's where you father lives.”

An unmistakable flash of anger passed over his face before he masked it. “I'm not from Kerry Patch.” He released her and shrugged into his coat. “I have to catch my train. I'll explain everything to you when I get back.” He plowed through the snow that covered the yard in a blanket of white.

What had he planned to tell her? Nothing he could share about his background would make her love him any less.

 



 

Collin boarded the train. When he returned, it would be time to tell Kathleen about his upbringing. He hoped his father had forgiven his youthful folly. Then he would know whether he would offer himself to Kathleen as a McAllister heir, or as a man set on making his own fortune. Either way it went, the assurance of Kathleen's love made him feel like a rich man.

The tedious hours went by as the train chugged along the canyon.

Collin passed the time by reading and engaging in occasional conversation with other passengers. When he finally arrived in St. Louis in the early evening of the next day, feeling rumpled and exhausted, he was met by his father's buggy driver, faithful old Henry.

A light drizzle fell around them as Henry whisked Collin out of the rain and into the warm confines of the buggy. His face had split into a wide grin at the sight of the young master.

“Your father would have come to meet you, but he's been laid low with a cold. Nothing serious, but it was best he stayed inside with a warm toddy. He's eager to see you, though.”

Henry's assurance lifted Collin's spirits. The last time he'd been in the company of the elder McAllister, his father had berated him sharply before throwing down the gauntlet. Looking back, he had deserved every criticism that had been laid at his feet.

They clattered along the wet streets until they reached the sweeping grounds and massive brick residences of the finest part of St. Louis. Coming home was a strange feeling, so familiar and yet so at odds from his recent life.

Henry took the buggy along the circular drive that led to the front door of the McAllister estate. He stopped the horses and climbed down to shield Collin with an umbrella until they reached the ornate oak door that was dwarfed by three stories of red brick and gables that ascended upward. To each side, the house sprawled out with downstairs parlors, a music room and libraries, the huge kitchen, and his father's prized study. A separate building behind the main house served as the servants' quarters.

Peters, the butler, took Collin's coat and hat. “Your father is expecting you for supper at eight o'clock, sir. Your room has been made ready for your arrival.”

Collin nodded. “I'll go up and wash.”

His father did not like to be kept waiting.

Just before eight o'clock, Collin made his way to the formal dining room. The long polished table gleamed. The silver serving pieces and silverware were a definite contrast to Mrs. McGee's informal table settings.

The elder McAllister turned from the sideboard, where he had been pouring a glass of sherry, and peered at his son. His face was as composed as that of a poker player, giving Collin no hint of his thoughts. He studied Collin for a moment. “Would you like a glass of sherry with dinner?”

It had been quite some time since Collin had had a drink. And he wanted to keep his senses sharp. “No, thank you. Maybe later.”

His father nodded and gestured to the table. “Please sit down. I hope your trip was pleasant.”

“It was long,” Collin admitted.

James cracked a smile. “Ah, but not as long by train as it would have been by coach.”

Collin nodded agreement. “And more comfortable by rail.” Collin asked his father about expansion plans for the railroad as Peters deftly served them braised potatoes and thinly carved beef.

“We're moving it west. Pretty soon you'll be able to take it anywhere you'd want to go.” Now that he was started on a subject that interested him, Father continued talking about the railroads.

Collin enjoyed the expertly prepared meal. A holiday pudding of smooth chocolate and cream followed.

“I know you're tired, and I won't keep you up long, but I'd like to go to the study and have a talk,” his father said when they finished eating.

All through Collin's life, the study had been where his father had summoned him when he wanted to reprove his actions. Collin had developed a distaste for the room. His experience in Silverton had changed all that. Though he was ashamed of his behavior before he left this house he was not ashamed of anything he'd done since. For the first time in his life, he felt no dread of confrontation, only curiosity over what they might discuss. He followed his father, treading across the plush carpets on their way to the study.

They faced each other.

His father lit a cigar and, for the first time, offered one to his son.

Touched by the gesture, Collin accepted.

“Tell me about Silverton, what you've done, what you've learned,” James invited.

Collin enjoyed recounting his experience in the mine. He could not help bragging a little about the savings he'd acquired and about Kathleen. He left out any mention of Martin.

His father listened raptly, asking a question from time to time. When Collin finished, his father let a slow smile spread onto his face. “I'll admit that I've kept in contact with the foreman of your mine. I gave him a railroad job once, and he owed me a favor. I don't mind telling you, son, that I'm proud of the way you've applied yourself. Jorgins had only good things to say about you. He told me that you were one of the last ones to be let go when the mine closed.”

“Making my own way was a challenge at first. But after a while, I enjoyed making my own money instead of spending someone else's.” He grinned sheepishly at his father.

To his surprise, Father's eyes grew misty, though he wasn't a man given to emotion. He leaned forward. “I was hoping for this change in you. It's good to have you back, matured and ready to take over the business someday. We can spend the next couple of weeks going over the books. I want you to move back here and learn all you can about the railroad.”

“I'd be happy to learn all you can teach. But I can't move back right away. I've made an investment in Silverton, one I thought I might need, to provide for myself and the taking of a wife.” He colored slightly at the reference to Kathleen.

“What sort of investment?” his father asked.

“The Neigold brothers have sold their mines. I bought into a share of a new company. I think we'll find enough good gold ore at level seven to bring Silverton back to prosperity, at least for a while. I plan to oversee my investment and see if it proves out.”

James chuckled. “I admire your ambition. We'll work here the next three weeks, and then you can go back to Silverton for a while, woo that nice young lady, and oversee your investment. I'll come out for a visit when I can get away.”

Collin stood half a head above his squarely built father, a father who no longer seemed intimidating. He'd seen a new side to the man tonight, a side that was mortal like himself, growing older, and longing for reconciliation with his only son. And now that the reconciliation was complete, the relationship would no longer be boy to man, but man to man.

They shook hands before Collin went up to bed. As he passed his grandfather's portrait that hung in the upper hall, he felt proud to be connected to this line of men. He was glad he had not thrown it all away. Someday, God willing, he would pass this empire on to his own son.

Kathleen had admitted that she loved him. It gave him enormous pleasure to know that he had beaten Martin in the pursuit of her hand.

He frowned as he got ready for bed. He would have to be on guard against “accidents.” He doubted Martin would be a gracious loser.

Martin was capable of doing evil things. He'd already proved he had no compunction about taking on anybody who got in his way.

Collin suspected he had escaped further assault attempts only because Martin knew Kathleen's suspicions had been raised. She wasn't gullible enough to believe that continued attacks would be coincidence.

He shook off the feeling of ill-omen. Nothing would dampen his spirits tonight. He had won his father's esteem. And the future with the woman he loved looked bright. He fell into an exhausted sleep with a smile on his face.