Silverton: Claims On The Heart (7 page)

She turned down the side street and onto Blair. It would only be a slight detour and she would still reach home in plenty of time to make lunch.

Her heart beat with the excitement of the forbidden as she glanced along the street.

Plank buildings were already weathered by the harsh winters. All were quiet now resting until the rowdy night crowds arrived.

She passed the town square and the Town Hall which sat right next to the Stone Saloon. Several men lingered outside. They stared at her their bold assessment missing nothing.

Kathleen's cheeks flamed as heat rushed up her neck. She quickened her pace and hurried past them. She passed a two story building with the words, “Welcome” lettered on the ground floor windows and “B. Matties” above the top floor.

Two young women, one with hair bleached too blonde, the other colored too dark, sat together on the plank sidewalk outside the doors. Clothed only in dressing gowns they stretched their limbs languidly in the warmth reminding Kathleen of house cats let out for a bit of sun.

She would have avoided staring if she had not recognized one of the women as the girl Collin had helped home, the one Vic had spoken to on the street corner. Was this where she lived?

Kathleen shuddered.

She was sure the girl had seen her, too. Would it be rude not to speak as she walked directly past them? She decided that no matter what the young woman did for a living she could not pass her by as though she didn't exist.

She paused with a hesitant smile. The girl met her eyes with a hostile gaze that took Kathleen by surprise. “We met at my father's store. I wondered if your ankle is all right,” Kathleen stuttered.

Without a blink of her green cat's eyes, the girl said, “I remember you. My ankle is fine.”

“I'm glad.” Kathleen faltered, feeling uncomfortable, yet unwilling to walk away. Something about the girl's self-imposed shell challenged her to get inside. “I'm Kathleen Morris.”

The eyes narrowed, assessing her with no smile, no indication of interest. She flicked a spot of lint from her clothing. “I'm Polly. This is Noreen.”

Kathleen nodded to Noreen. “If you ever want to visit come by the store. I'm there most days with my father.”

Polly gave a snort of mirth. She turned to Noreen. “I can just see us, can't you, Noreen? Hobnobbing with the ladies of the town as they pick out their dry goods.” She tipped her pale face towards the sun as she studied Kathleen. “You run back to your store, sweetie, and forget about us. We get all the company we need.”

Kathleen's cheeks grew hot at their lewd laughter. Perhaps it had been a mistake to stop since they seemed determined to reject her friendship. She drew up as tall as possible and gave them a formal nod. “I have to go so I'll wish you a good day.” With a swish of skirts she sped down the block and turned the corner towards home. They had laughed at her effort to befriend them. That would not happen again. She would stay off Blair Street. She wasn't curious any more.

She got home and slung her bonnet onto a hook. In the kitchen she got busy with lunch heating biscuits and leftovers from their dinner last night. She had just got it bubbling on the stove when Papa popped in looking especially cheerful.

“You must have had a good morning after I left,” she said.

“I'd say the store is proving itself, wouldn't you? In the few days we've been here we've made a profit each day. I'll easily have enough to order winter supplies on the next train.”

She nodded absently as she spooned up their stew. “That's good. We won't have to dip into our savings to see us through the winter.”

“No we won't, though I've found a use for the money brought by selling our house in St. Louis.” He took a bite of his stew.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I'd hoped to surprise you when I got us moved in, but I don't think I can hold it in.” He looked like the cat that swallowed a bird.

“What have you done?”

He cleared his throat. “I never intended for this to be our permanent house. And I found out today that a family has moved out of a very nice place on the far end of Blair Street. I looked at it after you left.”

Kathleen could only stare at her Papa's cherubic face. “Blair Street. That's a terrible place.”

“Not at the end we'd be on. It is very respectable with several nice houses.”

“But we just got here.”

“A house that was abandoned by a miner is no place for a young woman to entertain her callers. I wanted to get you out from above the store, but I never intended to settle here. So I waited until something turned up, knowing that you'd worry about the money and tell me we're just fine where we are.”

“But you are doing it all for me when we really are fine. If you'd come here alone you wouldn't be talking about moving to a finer house.”

“I might. We have the money. What else should I do with it?”

“Save it. You might need it for your old age unless I marry well.” She smiled, and then grew serious. “You won't want to always run a store each day. What about when you get too old? Will you trust Vic?”

“If I'm right, Silverton will grow so fast that we'll make a fortune off the store in the next few years. Then I could sell the house for a nice profit and move anywhere I like. If I even want to.”

She smiled at his optimism. “I hope you're right.”

“I want you to see the house. It has six nice rooms. Three bedrooms, a large kitchen, a dining room and a parlor that is big enough for a piano. I know you have missed playing ours since we sold it in St. Louis.”

She could not help grinning at his enthusiasm. “I think you are getting carried away.”

“Maybe. But I have made up my mind. I want you to go and see it this afternoon. Get a key from Mr. Evers at the bank.”

“All right. I'll go right after I get our dishes cleared away.”

Papa wrote the address on a slip of paper and left it when he went back to work.

In spite of the objections she'd raised, Kathleen could not deny a mounting excitement fueled by the prospect of a home of which she could be proud.

This house had splintered wall boards and rough floors. She had plans to make it better, but even at its best—clean and with new curtains—it would never be an attractive house.

She washed and dried their plates and was just replacing the coffeepot on the stove when someone knocked at the door. She hoped it wasn't Martin. She didn't want to see him, to hear him tell her that he could give her a finer house than any in Silverton.

Nancy stood on her stoop. Her relief was short lived when her friend came in wearing a scowl on her sable brow and shaking her finger at Kathleen.

Kathleen stared at her, puzzled.

“Whatever were you thinking? Tom said he was doing business at the Town Hall and saw you walking down the very worst part of Blair Street. Surely someone has warned you that nice women do not go there.” Nancy sank onto the settee and fanned herself as she rambled on. “But you are new here. I should have told you. But you must not do it again.”

“You don't have to worry about that. I've never been so uncomfortable in my life.” She wanted to change the subject. “Apparently not all of Blair Street is bad. Papa says he's found another house for us. He's written the address down and wants me to go by the bank and get the key.”

Nancy brightened. “Well, that explains why you were on Blair Street. You were looking for the house. You should have said so. I'll go by the bank with you and then help you find it. How big is it? Do you know?”

“Papa says it has six rooms.”

“Oh, it sounds wonderful. I never thought you belonged in this house. Though the house Tom and I have is not much bigger, it isn't quite so worn.” Nancy linked their arms as they headed for the bank. “This will be so much fun.”

They walked into the cool lobby.

Kathleen asked for Mr. Evers.

A young man with a thin mustache and slender, nervous hands directed them to a desk behind a thin partition of wood.

“Mr. Evers, these ladies are here to see you.”

Evers ran his fingers across his slicked black hair and looked up at them. “Ladies to see me? What a pleasure.” He rose from his chair and bestowed a wide grin.

Kathleen supposed he must only be in his early thirties. He had a pointed chin and a pixie face that looked at odds with the ample girth of the rest of his body. His dark eyes looked over her with a bold interest that immediately offended her.

“So good to see you, Mrs. Parker. And your friend?”

“I am Kathleen Morris. My father told me to see you about a key to a house he wants to buy.” She deliberately avoided extending her hand.

“Oh, yes. Do sit down while I look for it.” He gestured to two chairs beside the scarred chestnut desk. He rummaged, muttering to himself about having just seen the key. “Here it is. Right on this chain. I told your father what a good buy this would be. And I think I could have a buyer for your leased home before the end of the week. New families moving in, you know.”

Kathleen took the outstretched key careful not to touch his plump fingers. “We appreciate your help. But don't find a buyer until we decide about the new house. I haven't even seen it yet.”

“I feel sure you'll like it. It's a house fit for a lady like yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope to see Silverton full of families someday. Lots of single men are looking for wives. Of course, not many are like Mrs. Parker's husband, suited for fine women like yourselves.”

“It's good I'm not in the market, then,” Kathleen informed him.

He raised an unruly brow. “But perhaps you wouldn't be opposed to sharing a meal with a new friend. I would love to take you to the hotel for supper if you're free.”

There was nothing about the man that appealed to her. Still, he was the banker and it wouldn't be wise to offend him. So she forced a smile. “That is kind of you. However, I'm so busy now with settling in and helping my father at the store I just don't have time.”

He nodded, rising as they prepared to leave. “You can think it over and let me know when you'll be free for supper, or lunch, if you'd rather. Tell me when you bring back the key.”

Kathleen hoped to get away without touching the man. But he reached across the desk to shake her hand and she found her fingers in his clammy grip.

“When you come back we can talk about the house and what you think of it,” he said.

“Yes. Well, I'd better go see it.” She withdrew her hand from his grip and followed Nancy through the lobby.

They pushed through the door like mice escaping a chase.

Kathleen sucked in a gulp of air that was tinged with the cool scent of autumn. “All I wanted was the key,” she muttered.

Nancy glared back at the bank. “I can't abide the nerve of that man. Imagine him thinking that you saw anything in him. I had half a mind to tell him that you were engaged to Martin Long. I bet that would have shut him up.”

Kathleen stared at her friend in dismay. “But Nancy, I'm not.”

“Not officially perhaps. But you know he cares for you.”

“I know no such thing. Promise me you won't tell anyone I'm engaged to anyone, including Martin.”

“All right. But it might come in handy. Mr. Evers isn't the only single man who'll bother you to death.”

“I can take care of men like Evers.”

Nancy tossed her silky blond curls. “All right. But you're going to get tired of them.” She led the way down Green Street not turning on the side street to Blair until they were far down the block.

They followed directions until they reached the house Papa described. They walked up to a porch that was as clean as if someone had just swept it.

Kathleen glanced at the door. “How pretty. A stained glass insert.”

“And look at the brass door knocker. It's polished to a blinding shine. I like this place already.”

Kathleen unlocked the door.

They stepped into a tiny entrance hall that led to a parlor on one side and a dining room on the other. There were large glass windows at the ends of each room and polished wooden floors underfoot. Curtains in a pretty floral print of pink and blue hung at the windows.

“I bet this house cost a pretty penny.”

Kathleen was thinking the same thing. “Let's see the rest.”

They wandered through the kitchen admiring the clean cupboards and isinglass stove. Upstairs they found the bedrooms small and square with wood floors swept clean. A fading scent of mothballs lingered in each of the rooms.

“Three bedrooms. I am envious of you,” Nancy said.

“I don't know what we'll do with so much room,” Kathleen admitted.

“Well you could use one of the bedrooms to store all of the gifts you are sure to get.”

“Gifts?” Kathleen raised a brow.

“Bridal gifts for when you set up your own house.”

Kathleen rolled her eyes at her friend. “I forgot. You are determined to marry me off.”

“You'll give in sooner or later.”

They strolled back through the rooms.

Kathleen paused in the parlor. “We don't have proper furniture for a house like this. We sold all of our old things before we came. We have only our mattresses, a rickety table, two chairs, and an old settee.”

“There is a furniture store right here in town. I'm sure your father means to buy suitable things.”

“But it will cost so much.”

Nancy shook a finger at Kathleen. “You worry too much. Let your father decide what he can afford. That's a man's job, anyway. Our job is to enjoy what we get.”

Kathleen took a last look around the parlor and then locked up the house.

Nancy chattered about curtains for the bedrooms and furnishings, and then they parted ways. She went on to her own home.

Kathleen dropped by the store. When her father was free from his customers, Kathleen handed him the key. “I would rather you returned this to Mr. Evers. He took a fancy to me and asked me to supper. And he's very persistent.”