Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (25 page)

“I want to make Trinity a real town with a bank, stores, a church, and a school. I want decent houses for the workers. The mine will play out eventually and that’s the reason I’ll not build a smelter plant. It will last long enough for me to keep the men busy while my other plan formulates.”

“If the mine plays out, the workers will leave, and your town will go the way of hundreds of other mining towns.”

“The country is opening up, Nightrose. Cattle and lumber will be the thing. People will need lumber to build homes. North and west of Trinity is the finest stand of timber I’ve seen. I have a man working on getting us the cutting rights. I have every hope that before we leave Virginia City we’ll be in the lumber business.”

“You’ll build a saw mill at Trinity?”

“With a little dredging of the creek and the pond where we saw the honkers it will be ideal. We can freight our lumber south to Salt Lake, or north to Helena. I think our biggest market will be right here in Montana. Cattlemen are coming in and they’ll need building supplies.”

“I heard that the government has set aside a large parcel of land for a National Park.”

“That was a couple of years ago. The area is east of here and called the Yellowstone, after the river. A very smart move by the government. It’s a land with geysers, waterfalls, hot sulfur springs, and bubbling mud pots. One of the geysers comes up out of the ground about every half hour and shoots a hundred feet in the air. Someday I’ll take you there.”

“It sounds scary.”

“It is, at first. I’m fascinated with this country. It’s wild, beautiful, tough, and at times brutal.”

“I know. Mary, Theresa, and I almost froze to death last winter.”

A dark scowl covered Rowe’s face. “You’ll never again suffer from neglect. I promise you.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Rowe. I’ve told you that. And while I’m about it, I want to repeat once again I’m not turning my life over to you.”

“Sweetheart, you won’t have a thing to say about it.”

The scowl disappeared from his face, and a soft, loving light shone from his dark eyes. His words and the sound of his deep voice touched something in Katy’s memory, making her heart jump out of rhythm.

The serving woman returned with the ice cream. Katy savored each bite while wishing fervently that Mary and Theresa were here to enjoy the treat. Aware that Rowe watched her and was enjoying her obvious delight in the creamy, bitingly cold dessert, she smiled at him with more happiness in her eyes than he had ever seen before.

When they finished, Rowe escorted her from the room with his hand cupped about her elbow, holding her possessively to his side. Katy was conscious of the stares, but failed to see the envious glances of the women they passed while threading their way among the tables.

As soon as they entered the almost empty lobby, Katy’s eyes were drawn to the stairway by a child’s joyous laughter. A man and a woman were holding onto the hands of a small girl. Two steps from the bottom, the girl paused and they swung her the rest of the way down. Her childish laughter rang out. Her small arms circled the man’s leg.

“Hold me, Papa.”

The big dark-haired man scooped the child up in his arms. She wrapped her arms about his neck and placed wet kisses on his cheek. He grinned at the disapproving look on his wife’s face.

“I’ll swear, Pack. You’ll be carrying that child when she’s twenty years old.”

“I hope so, love.”

“It’s the Gallaghers from Laramie,” Katy said and hurried across the lobby to speak to them before they went into the dining room. “Mara Shannon—”

The auburn-haired woman with skin that was like fine white china turned when she heard her name. She was beautifully dressed in a tight-waisted green taffeta dress with large mutton sleeves. The bodice was buttoned to her chin. She was not a beautiful woman, but she was attractive in a soft, womanly way.

“Katy? Oh, Pack, it’s Katy Burns. Katy, imagine seeing you way up here!”

“I knew you were coming to town and I was hoping to see you. Mr. and Mrs. Gallagher and Brita, I’d like you to meet Mr. Garrick Rowe. I’m going to be working for him for a while.”

“For a good long while if I have anything to say about it,” Rowe said, extending his hand to Mara Shannon, then to Pack Gallagher. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I saw you fight Kilkenny a few years ago in Laramie and decided that if I ever met you, I’d do my best to stay on your good side.”

Pack laughed and glanced down at his wife. “That was my last fight. If I get into the ring for any reason other than to referee, my wife will clean my clock when I get home. Her temper is something to behold.”

“You can bet your buttons I would, Pack Gallagher,” Mara Shannon retorted quickly. She looked up at her husband, her eyes shining with love. “Pack raises money to support the orphanage by promoting boxing exhibitions,” she explained, beaming with pride.

“It took a long time, but my wife has finally come to appreciate the sport,” Pack said.

“Only with gloves.”

“Yes, love. Only with gloves.”

“How are things at the orphanage?” Katy asked.

“Fine. Just fine. We have twenty-one children there now. After you left, we advertised for a teacher and hired a woman from Nebraska. She’s working out just fine. Are Mary and Theresa with you?”

“No. They’re back in Trinity. On our way here we spent the night with Sam and Emily Sparks. Emily told me you were coming to stay with her for a while.”

“I wondered how you knew. How is Emily? As soon as Pack is finished tomorrow, we’re going out to the ranch until after the baby arrives.”

“I bet Sam’s watching over Emily like a mother hen,” Pack said with a deep chuckle.

“I can’t say that I blame him a bit. I’d be doing the same if my wife was giving me a child.” Rowe’s arm went about Katy’s waist and drew her close against his side. “We’d better let these people go in and eat, sweetheart.”

Mara Shannon’s expressive eyes went from Katy to Rowe. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Katy. Are you staying here?”

“In Room 204,” Rowe said before Katy could answer. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Gallagher.” He offered his hand to Pack. “You’re a lucky man.”

“I be knowin’ it. So are you.” Pack grinned at Katy.

“Katy and I are going for a walk about town,” Rowe said before she could retort. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

On the boardwalk in front of the hotel, Katy turned to face Rowe. “You deliberately let them think that you and I . . . that we . . . that we are—”

“A couple? We are, sweetheart. Will you be cold without a shawl?”

“No! And don’t change the subject.”

“What’s wrong with letting them know we’re mates?”

“Mates? We’re not
mates
!”

“We will be . . . soon. Come on.” He took her elbow and urged her down the walk away from the hotel. “Don’t get in a huff over minor details.”

Rowe held her close to his side as he steered her past the loafers leaning against the buildings lining the street. Light streamed out of the windows and doors of the shops and saloons they passed. The town was alive with drovers, drifters, gamblers, miners, and soldiers who had come to town to celebrate the Fourth of July.

They passed a saloon where someone was playing on an off-key piano. Loud male voices, the scraping of boot heels on the plank floor, and the clinking of glasses came from another wide entranceway with twin swinging doors. Further down the street, a woman was singing “Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms.” The voice was surprisingly good, and the audience was quiet while she sang, but when she finished, a roar of shouting, stomping on the floor, and the pounding of whiskey bottles on the tables proclaimed their approval of the popular song’s rendition.

Rowe moved Katy quickly against the wall and stood protectively in front of her when a man with a white apron wrapped about his waist suddenly burst from the dark interior of a saloon and propelled a bearded drunk from his establishment. With a loud string of obscenities the burly bartender threw the man into the street. Stunned, he lay there. A horseman coming down the street jumped his horse over the inert body, and a carriage with iron-rimmed wheels passed, barely missing him.

“He’ll get run over,” Katy exclaimed. Even as she spoke the drunk was rolling toward the side of the street and came up against the edge of the walk.

“He’ll be all right. This is the rough part of town. We’ll cross here and go back on the other side,” Rowe said as they stepped down from the walk into the street.

Katy was cold. No matter how hot the days, the nights were cool in the mountains. Her teeth almost chattered when she asked, “Where’s the Opera House?”

“At the other end of town. Do you want to see the show?”

“No. I thought you might want to see it. You were invited, you know.”

“I know. Nan Neal is quite a woman. She can kick higher than a man’s head.”

“What a glorious accomplishment!”

A satisfied smile settled on Rowe’s face. If he read the tone right, Katy was jealous. A good sign.

“The stage office is down this side street and on the corner is the bank where I do business. This is the Territorial Government Building,” he explained and paused in front of a two-storied brick building.

“Clearly the most impressive building in town,” Katy murmured. “Are there any churches?”

“Three. The churches and the school are behind this side of the main part of town up there on the hill. The cemetery is on the hill beyond the other side of the street. Here’s E. Olinghouse & Co. They have one of the best lines of merchandise in town. Is there something you want?”

Katy read the sign posted at the side of the door. GOOD NEWS! JUST ARRIVED VIA THE MISSOURI RIVER AND FORT BENTON: A LARGE STOCK OF FANCY AND STAPLE GOODS. The variety of the items listed below the large block letters ranged from sugar to hay forks and everything in between. The open door of the store looked inviting, and Katy wished that she had the money to buy something pretty for Mary and Theresa. Not for anything did she want Rowe to know she had only a small amount of money left. Even while she was thinking these thoughts, Rowe was leading her into the store.

“I don’t need anything.”

“Look around, honey. I want to get some cigars.”

It was warmer inside. The scent of spices mixed with leather goods, wool, new wood, and cured meat was a pleasant smell that at one time had been familiar, but one she hadn’t experienced for more than a year. An array of tools, rope, and all manner of supplies essential to life in a mining town and its surrounding area filled the store. One had to maneuver around barrels, chairs, wagon seats, plows, shovels and nails. Crocks and wooden churns lined the aisles, as did huge iron kettles and washboards.

Katy paused at a long table where ribbons in all the colors of the rainbow were wound neatly on spools. She fingered the satin cloth and once again wished she had money to buy a length for Mary and for Theresa. She moved on to gaze at the bolts of material, the boxes of buttons, the lace trimmings, and a spool cabinet of thread. There were ostrich feathers for hats and whalebones for corsets.

At a table piled high with men’s hats, both wide-brimmed and bowler, she came face-to-face with a man who was moving toward the door. He stopped, and the way he looked at her was so intense that she couldn’t look away from his piercing blue eyes. Katy’s fleeting impression was that his hair beneath the gray bowler hat was very light, as were his brows, lashes, and mustache. It seemed that he towered over her ready to spring, reminding her strongly of the cougar that stalked her from the ledge behind the funerary in Trinity. She knew instinctively that this was a dangerous man.

Justin stared at the woman. He had seen his half brother come into the store with her and had heard the endearment. A wave of almost uncontrollable anger flowed over him. The horny black devil had latched onto this beautiful blond, blue-eyed woman! Damn his rotten soul to hell! He was set to mix his dark blood with that of a pure Caucasian. He hadn’t married her. If he had, the marriage hadn’t been recorded. Justin had checked into that as soon as he’d come to town.

For all the woman’s beauty, she was dirt or she’d not have taken up with a foreigner who was as dark as a mulatto. Feeling the veins in his neck begin to swell as anger and hatred consumed him, Justin quickly sidestepped around the woman and walked quickly out the door. He had to get away, to think and plan. He headed down the street toward the saloons where the whiskey was watered down and the tarnished angels who served it wore faded satin and had holes in their stockings. Justin was certain that before the night was over, he would find someone willing to do what had to be done.

Katy had faced the man for no more than ten seconds, yet she felt as if she would remember his face always. He looked nothing like anyone she had ever seen before. So why had he glared as if he despised her? A good bit of the excitement of being in the store left her, and she wandered on back to the counter where the clerk was handing Rowe a box of cigars.

“Did you see something you want?” Rowe asked.

“No.”

Rowe picked up a bundle from the counter and tucked it under his arm. They walked back through the store, and when they reached the doorway, Rowe unfurled a blue shawl and flipped it around her shoulders.

“I can’t have my Nightrose getting cold,” he whispered softly against her ear.

“No! I have a shawl back at the hotel.” Katy reached to jerk it off, but Rowe’s hands closed over hers.

“Now you have two.”

“No, Rowe. I’ll not accept gifts from you. I’m not your poor relation.”

“Thank God for that! Wear the shawl, or I’m going to grab you up and kiss you right here.”

“You wouldn’t!” she sputtered, but she knew by the look in his eyes that he would.

“If you don’t like the wrap after you see it in the light of day, give it to Beulah. I hope you’ll keep it. It matches your eyes perfectly and it’s my first gift to you.”

“I want to go back to the room. You can go on to see your friend at the Opera House.”

Rowe ignored the suggestion. “Are you warm?”

“Yes. It feels wonderful. I didn’t realize I was so cold until we went into the store.”