A Lady in Defiance (24 page)

“I felt the same way at first,” Hannah said softly, reliving
the memory of bitterly scornful comments from her closest
friends
.
“After I, you know, was
with
Billy, I carried that sin around like a
load of bricks. I felt so dirty. I couldn’t tell anybody. And I couldn’t talk
to God about it because I just knew he hated me. I was so isolated from
everyone that mattered to me.” Daisy leaned forward, listening intently. “Then
when I found out about the baby,” Hannah rolled her eyes, remembering that sick
feeling of fear and shame. “I knew everything I’d done was going to come out. I
was sure God had turned his back on me. I’d shamed him, I’d shamed my family.
Then Billy left me.” She marveled over how the admission still hurt. “He just
rode off without a look back.” She shared a look with Daisy that she hoped
communicated all her fear and shame. “I can’t tell you how miserable I was,
Mollie. How much of a failure I thought I was.” Hannah shook her head,
remembering how desperately disgusted with herself she had been at that point
in time.

Daisy’s face was rapt with attention. “You seem so content
now. What happened? What did you do?”

Heart beating faster, Hannah took the Bible from Naomi and
held it up. She prayed she could express to Daisy what it meant to her. “I
started reading this as if my life depended on it. I think it did. Let me tell
you one of the first things I saw.” Hannah opened the Bible to John 3:16 and
read it slowly, carefully, but with an emphasis on the last sentence. “‘For God
did not send His son into the world to condemn the world, but to
save
the world through Him.’  I kept thinking, God didn’t send his son to
condemn me. So how can I find my way back to him? How can I make this mess
right?”

Daisy picked up a stick and poked distractedly at the dead
coals. “I still don’t think I understand. What did you do?” She sounded like
someone who wanted very specific directions and Hannah tried to oblige.

“I saw myself through God’s eyes.” Hannah caressed her Bible.
“It says in here that he loves me, no matter what.” She looked up at Daisy. “He
rejoiced over my repentance. I
matter
to him; he cares what happens to
me.” Tears unexpectedly slipped down Hannah’s cheeks as she swallowed a knot in
her throat. “There are so many places in this book, Mollie, that tell us how
much God loves us and how willing He is to forgive us when we sin. I needed to
hear that more than anything.”

“
Senoras
,” Emilio called from the stoop, jerking the
girls out of this emotional moment. “Another freight wagon is here. I theenk
these one has all the beds.” That meant they had to leave. Slowly, Rebecca and
Naomi rose to their feet, as if they regretted leaving this circle. Hannah sat
wiping her eyes with her apron.

Naomi motioned for her and Daisy to stay. “You two take your
time.” She glanced over at Rebecca. “We’ll take care of the wagon.”

Feeling the moment was gone, but that seeds had been planted,
Hannah sniffled and watched her sisters climb the back steps. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to be such a cry baby,” she told Daisy. “Do you mind helping with
lunch? I can use the extra hands…” Hannah fell silent. Daisy was staring at the
ground, lost in thought and Hannah prayed she was seriously considering
everything she had just told her.

The girl blinked. “I’m sorry, you asked me−oh, about
lunch. Yes, certainly, I’ll help.”

Hannah draped an arm around Daisy’s shoulders and slowly the
two stood. “I’m glad you came by today, Mollie. Truly I am.”

Chapter
20

McIntyre looked up at his partially open office door in time
to see Wade about to knock. Waving him in, McIntyre dropped the pencil he’d
been checking inventory with and settled back in his chair.

“I’ve got some news about Rose.” Wade removed his hat and sat
stiffly in the seat across from his employer. McIntyre wasn’t particularly
interested in the news as long as she was still in Defiance but out of his
hair. Still, to Wade’s credit, it was his job to report. “Nothin’ spectacular.
Lil’s whipped her twice and cut her once. Rose is still tryin’ to claw
everybody’s eyes out, but Lil thinks she’ll break soon and settle down...or
disappear.”

McIntyre clasped his hands over his middle and considered the
outcome of this plan. A broken, quiet Rose was ideal. A missing Rose made him
vaguely uncomfortable. He’d never known a woman as spiteful as she was and he
didn’t take that for granted. “I prefer Rose right here where we can keep tabs
on her. Tell Lil that...and have a drink on the house.”

Wade’s eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet. “Thank you Mr.
McIntyre. I believe I will.” Stepping outside the office, he carefully put the
door back into its half-open position and turned for the bar.

McIntyre stared out at the traffic and discovered he was more
than a little glad that Rose was gone. But he felt strangely...bored? Or was he
merely restless? He noticed two large freight wagons rumbling past and knew
they were headed to the hotel. Against his better judgment, he grabbed his hat
off the corner of his desk and followed after them.

The first delivery a few weeks ago had brought most of the
items for the sisters’ kitchen. He was anxious to see if this would finish it
out so they could project an opening date for the restaurant. As he walked, he
enjoyed the cool of the air and the few aspen leaves that blew across his path.
Fall in Georgia had been his favorite time of year as a child. The heat would
break to something tolerable and slaves would harvest the crops. His mother
would decorate their home with pumpkins and Indian corn all around, creating an
innocent, festive air.

Fall also had heralded the start of a new school year and the
excitement of going off to the various private schools he had attended. An
enterprising lad always, school had provided the opportunity to hone his
entrepreneurial skills. He chuckled at the thought, remembering business
ventures with everything from shoe polish to cigars. In college he had upped
the ante to include whisky, gambling and, right before the war, women.

Now, years later, he was the self-appointed king of a booming
mining town. Ian’s urging to set up a real town government and duly deputized
marshal were valid suggestions if Defiance was to go to the next step of
metropolitan growth. In the last ten years, McIntyre had seen mining towns
spring up overnight, develop an economy based on nothing but gold or silver and
when the ore played out, the town had also
died
overnight.

He did not want that to happen to Defiance. It was his
responsibility to move the town forward, not just manage an ever-increasing
population. With proper planning, this could be a mining town with stable
alternate economies based on lumber, farming and ranching. Since the arrival of
Naomi and her sisters, he had actually entertained the thought that brothels
and liquor might not be the cornerstone of his future.

McIntyre considered that mental change of direction as he
watched her and Rebecca take the bill of lading from a wagon driver. It was
interesting to him how he had been pondering growth for Defiance anyway. Yet,
in spite of himself, something about that scrappy little princess now made him
want see his plans yield fruit sooner rather than later. He despised admitting
that.

Since she took every opportunity to look down her nose at
him, he had begun feeling that his accomplishments in Defiance were
meaningless. Why her opinion mattered, he couldn’t say. He had tried, again, to
avoid her since that afternoon she had tumbled into his arms. He liked the feel
of her a little too much. The line between lust and something more dangerous
was blurred and fuzzy when he was around her. Yet, here he was walking towards
her again.

Worse, as he mulled over plans and dreams for Defiance, he
found himself wanting to run them by her, to
share
them with her. He
didn’t just want her to faint with passion−though that would be
nice−it wasn’t enough. He wanted her to acknowledge that
he
had
built this town and had noble plans for it.

McIntyre realized with a jolt that he wanted her to admire
him.

She, however, regarded him as a predator and stayed wary
around him. She never let her guard down, never said anything that could be
construed as friendly; she was always cold and distant. Yet, if McIntyre knew
one thing, he knew women. His instincts told him there was
something
between the two of them but she fought it like the plague...was she riddled
with guilt over being attracted to someone else after so recently being
widowed...or could she possibly honestly dislike him? McIntyre found that
scenario highly unlikely, but Naomi Miller vexed him greatly, and he approached
her and her sister with the intent to study her a bit more.

“Mrs. Castleberry, Mrs. Miller.” He touched his hat in
greeting. They both smiled at him pleasantly enough, but he noticed
her
smile faded faster and she went back to the bill of lading more quickly than
Rebecca. “What treasures have arrived today?”

Rebecca waived the bill at the wagon. “Well, it looks as if
we’ve got everything to finish off the kitchen, and some tables for the dining
room. If we can get some chairs, which may be in the second wagon,” she looked
over at Naomi for agreement, “and start getting groceries and staples stocked,
I think we
can
open the restaurant by the end of this month.”

“Have you given your establishment a name yet? There is a
fine sign painter in town. You need to get your moniker up there.”

“Yes,” Naomi gushed unexpectedly. “We decided to call it
The
Trinity Inn.”

“That has a far more sophisticated ring to it than The Elbow
Inn,” he quipped and Naomi almost laughed. A puzzled look from Rebecca prompted
McIntyre to explain. “I had originally thought to call it that because the
hotel sits where the road bends to follow the river. It doesn’t quite have the
sophistication of The Trinity Inn.”

“Oh,” she nodded, but looked as if she didn’t quite get the
joke. “Well, lunch should be coming right along. We’ll get some men to unload
all this then break. Would you like to join us?”

Before he could reply, Naomi took a quick step away from
them. “I’m going to chop some wood since Emilio is helping with the carpentry
work.” She nodded a good-bye to McIntyre and squeezed Rebecca’s arm. “I’ll be
out back if you need me.”

McIntyre had to control the urge to offer one of his men for
the task. Instead, he saw another opportunity. He nodded good-bye to Naomi then
turned back to Rebecca. “I would have thought the beds would be arriving by
now, too,” he puzzled.

“That’s what Emilio thought these were. But tables are good
too.” As she spoke, he noticed the new feminine touches to the front of the
hotel. He saw pots with bunches of Columbine planted in them, a few rocking
chairs waiting invitingly, but he was moved unexpectedly by the bundled sheaves
of hay, pumpkins, and Indian corn set out as seasonal decorations.

“Where in the world did you get those?”

Rebecca followed his gaze and smiled. “We mentioned to Mr.
Boot that we’d love to have some pumpkins and Indian corn. Three days later,
voila
!”

He shook off an unexpected sense of melancholy and shoved his
hands into his pockets. “It is...inviting.”

McIntyre let himself in to the hotel and quickly surveyed the
new entrance. The counter and shelves were gone. A false wall had been built
separating the small hotel lobby from the dining area. A large open serving
window and two swinging batwings replaced the door into the kitchen. A good
cleaning to remove the stray lumber and sawdust, add some tables and chairs,
and this restaurant was just about ready for customers.

Pleased with the progress, he pushed through the bat wings
into the kitchen and was astonished to see Daisy deftly assisting Hannah with
lunch. He didn’t mind her helping so much as her presence here would cast
doubts on the ladies’ reputations: guilt by association, as it were. Ian had
already dealt with a misunderstanding recently; when the workers saw her here,
it would only lead to others.

“Daisy.” He spoke her name carefully, trying to sound as
unruffled as possible. She glanced up from a tray of unbaked biscuits then
practically leaped to attention. “I thought it was your day to clean the
saloon.”

“No, it’s Jasmine’s day.”

“Well,” he thought quickly, trying not to sound harsh, “I
would also like you to do an inventory for me this afternoon. Could you manage
that?”

Looking disappointed, Hannah spoke up. “Does she have time to
help me finish? We’re trying to get lunch ready for twelve men, and Mr.
Donoghue and you, if you’re joining us.”

 Ian, who had been leaning over the new pump tightening
a bolt, straightened and gave McIntyre a hard look. McIntyre took the hint.
“Very well, be quick about it.” The girls nodded and went back to their chores.
McIntyre nodded at his friend and slipped out of the kitchen, headed for the
back door.

But he didn’t move fast enough. Ian caught him just as he
reached for the doorknob. “Why are ye makin’ her leave?” he whispered angrily.
“It would do the girl well to make decent friends. Are ye afraid of losin’ her
as an employee?”