The Heart's Pursuit (24 page)

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Authors: Robin Lee Hatcher

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BOOK: The Heart's Pursuit
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CHAPTER 25
    

H
elplessness washed over Silver as she gazed along the main street of Virginia City. She hadn’t imagined the town would be this big. A continuous line of roofs stretched for a distance of five miles—or so she’d been told—and more spread out on either side, rising up the mountain on her right and downward on her left. Thirty thousand people lived in Virginia City and its sister city of Gold Hill. Thirty thousand souls hoping to get rich, one way or another. Dust filled the air as horses and wagons moved along the thoroughfares. The sun baked the arid mountain terrain, scorching the flowers planted by women trying to bring a little color to this corner of the world.

How on earth would she find Matt Carlton in such a place? Assuming he’d come here at all. There were dozens of saloons and gambling dens and nearly as many hotels. It would take her days to search out each. Perhaps Jared had already found him. Perhaps Jared was somewhere in Virginia City right now, counting his reward.

She thought of the small stash of money she possessed. How long would it last? The prices she’d seen in store windows were exorbitantly high. If she turned around now, perhaps she would have enough to purchase two tickets to Colorado. But only if she did it right away.

A wagon lumbered past them, and Silver’s gaze was caught by the stoop-shouldered man holding the reins. His bald head was bare, his expression one of defeat. A woman, her face dour and bleak, sat beside him on the seat. The wagon bed was piled high with what Silver assumed was all they had left to call their own.

She thought of her parents being thrown out of their home. Where would they go? What would they do? Would they wind up someplace like this with no money and no hope? She couldn’t let that happen to them, no matter what she had to go through. She couldn’t back out now.

She grasped Dean’s hand within her own. “We’d better find a place to stay.”

Three doors down, they entered the lobby of the Banner Hotel. Silver walked up to the counter, nerves making her throat dry.

“Sir,” she said to the clerk, “how much for a room?”

“Haven’t got any empty ones. Whole town’s like that.” He eyed her over his glasses, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Got me a storeroom I can put a couple of cots in. I’d let you have it for five dollars.”

“Per week?”

“Per night.”

She felt her eyes widen. “But that’s robbery.”

He shrugged. “Maybe so. Take it or leave it.”

“Is there a boardinghouse nearby? A respectable boardinghouse.”

The clerk barked a laugh. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you come to the wrong town, missy.”

Her stomach now tied in knots, Silver drew Dean outside again.

“Where we goin’ now?” the boy asked.

“We’ll keep looking. There has to be someplace we can afford to stay for a few nights.”

Half an hour and five hotels later, Silver continued to lead Dean along the boardwalk, despair giving way to panic. She was tired, hungry, and terribly afraid. How could they afford anything in this town?

As they approached a dressmaking shop, sandwiched between a dry goods store and a drugstore, a buxom woman carrying a parasol stepped through the doorway onto the boardwalk. The lavender parasol with its white lace edging hid the woman’s face from view, but it was the gown that
captured Silver’s attention. It had been a long time since she’d seen anything so lovely.

The violet silk dress had a trained skirt trimmed with four scalloped flounces, each surmounted by a band of black velvet ribbon. The overskirt and waist were a lighter shade of violet faille with white lace and black velvet ribbons and bows. The sleeves were long with lacy cuffs, and the woman’s hands were covered with matching gloves. She looked dressed for an audience with a king, not a day of shopping in a dry and dusty town like Virginia City.

The woman turned toward Silver as she switched the parasol to her other shoulder. Silver’s breath caught, the lovely dress forgotten. The woman had the face of an angel, every angle perfection. She might be twenty; she might be thirty-five or older. She appeared timeless.

The woman’s light blue eyes were friendly as she met Silver’s gaze. She inclined her head slightly. “Good day.”

How embarrassing to be caught staring. “Hello,” Silver whispered in response.

“You look lost. May I help you find something? Or someone?”

Silver remembered the string of hotels behind her and blurted out, “We’re looking for a place to stay. Someplace affordable. My funds are limited.”

Soft laughter escaped the woman’s cherry-pink lips. “There is little affordable in Virginia City.” She held out a gloved hand. “My name is Corinne Duvall.”

“I’m Silver Matlock.” She shook the woman’s hand and felt the roughness of her fingers catch on the delicate fabric of the other’s glove. “And this is Dean.”

“How do you do, sir.” Corinne shook the boy’s hand before her eyes shifted back to Silver. “How long do you intend to stay in Virginia City, Mrs. Matlock?”

“I . . . I’m not sure . . . And it’s Miss Matlock.”

“Ah. I see.”

Silver flushed as she realized what the other woman thought. “Dean is not my son. His parents died recently. I . . . I’m caring for him.”

“Well, it would not have shocked me if he were your son, though you would have been a very young mother.” Corinne’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “If your funds are limited, I assume you’ll be looking for suitable employment as well as a place to stay?”

“Yes . . . I . . . I suppose so.” What had she thought? That she would waltz into Virginia City, capture Matt Carlton, collect a reward, and go home in style? As happened all too often, she’d acted without thinking through all of the possible consequences.

“Then perhaps I can be of some help. If you’ll come with me, Miss Matlock.” With a hand lifting the front of her skirt enough to reveal the toes of her violet walking shoes, Corinne Duvall led the way toward a buggy tied in front of the dry goods store. “Put your things in the back, Miss Matlock.” She stepped into the buggy and took up the reins.

Silver hesitated, unsure what she should do. “Miss Duvall, we can’t impose. We are strangers.”

“My dear girl, Virginia City is filled with nothing but strangers. They come and they go all the time. I would have no friends at all if I waited until I knew someone well. I remember what it was like, arriving in town without knowing a soul. Besides, this street isn’t the safest place for a beautiful woman to be, especially with evening approaching. Come along now. It’s obvious your ankle bothers you, and you shouldn’t be walking on it. Get in.”

Feeling swept downriver by a strong current, Silver obeyed. As soon as Dean climbed into the back, Corinne slapped the reins against the horse’s rump, sending the buggy rolling down the street.

    

Jared glared at the hotel clerk. “What do you mean, she’s not here?”

“Just what I said. She paid her bill and left.”

“Where did she go? When did she leave?”

“It’s not my business, mister, to be askin’ the guests where they’re going, but she checked out three days ago.”

Jared swallowed his frustration. “Thanks.” He turned toward the exit.

“Mister!”

He turned again.

“She left some things behind. Said they was yours if you came back. I put ’em in the storage room behind the kitchen.” He pointed.

“Thanks,” Jared repeated. “I’m going to the livery to get my horse. I’ll be back for my things when I’m done.”

He walked toward the livery stable. “Foolish, stubborn woman,” he muttered beneath his breath. She’d probably left Winnemucca to give him a dose of his own medicine. It wasn’t enough for her to wait for him as he’d told her in his note. No, she had to take the money and buy herself a train ticket out of here. And it didn’t take much of an imagination to guess where she’d gone. He paused inside the barn doorway. “Mr. Crandon!”

The blacksmith stepped out of a stall, a pitchfork in hand. His eyes narrowed when he recognized Jared. “I wondered if you’d be comin’ back.”

“I told you I would return.” He looked down the row of stalls on his left until he found the familiar black-and-white head poking over the rail. The pinto nickered. “You didn’t think I’d leave my horses behind, did you?”

The smithy shrugged as he set aside the pitchfork. “I didn’t know what to think after that lady friend of yours come in and sold me her mare.”

“She what?”

“Sold me that mare o’ hers. She’s standing out back there. I got me a buyer comin’ by t’ look at her later.”

Jared had left Silver enough money to hold both her and
the boy until he got back. She wouldn’t sell Cinder without a good reason. That horse meant a lot to her.

He stepped toward the blacksmith. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No, sir.”

Jared didn’t need anyone to tell him where she’d gone. He knew her well enough by now. Nor did he need anyone to tell him that she hadn’t received the money he’d left her. Only desperation would have caused her to sell the buckskin.

Jared pointed at the man. “Do not sell that horse. I’ll be back for it and my pinto.”

“I paid good money for it. Got a right to sell it if I want to.”

“You’ll have your money.” He turned on his heel and marched out of the stables.

    

Corinne Duvall’s palatial home sat on a hillside overlooking Virginia City. It was an enormous redbrick structure with white shutters at the windows and a veranda on three sides. Rosebushes twined around the narrow columns on either side of the front steps. Unlike elsewhere in this scruffy mining town, a skilled gardener had succeeded in producing colorful blooms and a patch of green lawn. The moment Corinne stopped the buggy, the front door
opened and a short, slight man dressed all in black hurried toward them.

“Thank you, Chung,” Corinne said as he helped her from the buggy. “Please take Miss Matlock’s things to the blue room.” She glanced toward Silver. “Come with me, dear.”

Silver got down as instructed, then paused to stare at the three-story house before her. All she’d done was ask for directions to an inexpensive place to stay, and now she, a complete stranger, was invited to stay in this mansion. It was more than a little unusual.

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