Kaitlin's Silver Lining

by Gold, Ciara

  “Charley! You best answer me, girl.” Bryce’s voice got closer. Whatever mischief Charley had done this time would be revealed soon.

  Bryce entered the dining area in his stocking feet. In his hand, he carried both boots, his face a palette of mottled reds.

  “You best have a good explanation.” Bryce shook the dangling footwear at his ward.

  “For what, Uncle Bryce?” Charley sounded as innocent as a newborn lamb.

  Bryce yanked her chair back from the table and planted himself in front of her. Several drops of water landed on the floor. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what.”

  “You mean your boots?”

  Kaitlin and Maggie remained silent throughout his tirade, but Kaitlin wasn’t happy he’d brought his anger to her table. Manners dictated he air his grievances elsewhere, but clearly he’d missed this lesson in etiquette. “Perhaps you should invite Charley upstairs where you can finish this discussion in private. Besides, you’re dripping on my clean floor.”

  “With all due respect, I’d like to finish this discussion now. Charley, start explainin’.”

  “They smelled bad.” Her bottom lip extruded in a mutinous pout. “I was only helping.”

  “You filled my boots full of soapy water cuz they smelled?”

  “Worse than a pile of manure in the summer.”

  Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a laugh. Kaitlin’s eyes grew wide. “Ladies do not say such things, especially at the dinner table.”

  “Just stating a fact, Aunt Kate.”

  “It don’t matter how bad they smell. You never put water in a man’s leather boots.” Bryce shook his head, the anger making his cheeks puffy. By now a puddle had formed near Charley’s chair.

  Maggie giggled.

  “It’s not funny.” Bryce shoved the items in question toward Charley. “You go upstairs right now and dry ’em out. You keep towelin’ ’em down until I can wear ’em without wrinklin’ my toes.”

  “I don’t wanna touch your damn, smelly ole boots.” Charley crossed her arms and tilted her chin.

  Kaitlin threw her napkin on the table and stood. “That’s enough. Charley, come with me. Now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, if you want to eat and sleep in this house, you will not use foul language. A good soaping will make sure there isn’t a repeat.”

  “All I said was damn. That ain’t so bad.”

  “Ladies do not curse, and ladies with schooling don’t use the word ain’t.”

  “You ain’t a lady. Bryce says so. I don’t see why you want me to be one if you ain’t one.” Kaitlin suspected Charley purposefully stressed ain’t just to prick her temper. Bryce didn’t help matters by constantly butchering the English language as well.

  “Ah, Charley. Don’t be puttin’ words in my mouth.” Bryce let his boots dangle at his side. “I never said your Aunt Katy wasn’t a lady. She’s a lady through and through, but she wants everyone to treat her like she’s a man.”

  “Charley, come with me.” Kaitlin ignored Bryce’s less-than-flattering explanation and rounded the table to grab Charley firmly by the arm. “Mr. Stanton, we’ll discuss your behavior when I’m through washing her mouth out with soap.”

  “Now, wait just one lick.” He moved to block her way. “I didn’t bring her here for you to abuse.”

  Kaitlin had her hand wrapped around the back of Charley’s neck, guiding her to the sink. “And what do you suggest? Every child needs guidance and discipline. Even I know that.”

  He stepped aside and followed them. “Well sure, but...”

  “Bryce.” She said his given name for the first time, and he flinched.

  “I think I like it better when you call me Mr. Stanton. The way you said my name just now makes me feel like a babe in diapers.”

  “If the boot fits...” She let the familiar saying dwindle and struggled to get Charley’s head close to the basin.

  “Damn, you’re full of stickers this morning.” He shot her a petulant glare.

  “Bryce, so help me when I’m finished here, I’m going to wash your mouth out as well. How is Charley going to learn if you don’t set a good example?” She wagged the soap-filled washcloth at him before jamming it into Charley’s mouth. The child gagged and sputtered as Kaitlin swished the rag around her teeth and tongue.

  “There,” Kaitlin said when she’d finished. “You may now go back to the table and finish your meal. I would strongly suggest you watch what you say from now on.”

  Charley spit out the remainder of soap and glared at her. “I hate you.”

  “Hate me all you want, just don’t use foul language in my house.” Kaitlin stood with arms akimbo and waited for Charley to mind. The girl stomped back to the table, sat down, and drank a full glass of milk. Kaitlin turned to Bryce. “You want to add anything?”

  “Now hold on.” He pointed to the table. “I just told her to go dry out my boots.”

  “She can dry them after breakfast. Set them next to the stove while we finish eating. That will do more good than Charley taking a towel to them anyway. Hopefully, they’ll dry before we go to church.”

  Was the man pouting? Kaitlin wanted to shake him for making such a spectacle.

  “Why are you limping?” Kaitlin asked.

  “Cuz I don’t have my boots on.”

  “No, you’re favoring one foot over another.”

  “My right foot gets knots in it when I’m under stress. It doesn’t make much sense, but it hurts less when my boots are on.” He plopped down in a chair.

  “Finish your eggs, Charley,” Maggie instructed quietly.

  “I can’t. They taste like lavender and ick now.” Charley pushed them around with a fork.

  Bryce leaned over and refilled her glass. “Here, swish this milk around in your mouth. That should make it better.”

  “I’ve already had a full glass, and it didn’t help.” She tossed her napkin on the table. “You let her hurt me, Uncle Bryce.”

  “I didn’t let her hurt you.”

  “You didn’t stop her.”

  “I tried.”

  “You’re my guardian. Not her.”

  “Yes, but...Don’t be mad, Charley. I’ll take you to the store after church for a peppermint.”

  Kaitlin swallowed the bite of ham before directing her comment to Bryce. “I refuse to feel guilty for making that child mind. A little more action on your part and a little less yelling would probably do wonders for Charley’s disposition.”

  Bryce leaned forward. “I don’t need you to tell me how to handle Charley.”

  “Clearly you do, or you’d still be in Texas.”

  Bryce shifted in his chair. The anger that made him storm down to breakfast had diminished. Instead, he looked lost. Her heart constricted. Why did he have the power to make her react with such intensity?

  He ran blunt fingers through his silky hair. “You’re right. I do coddle the girl, but it’s only because I know how hard life has been to her.”

  Maggie pushed herself away from the table and lifted a dirty plate. “You look finished, Charley. Why don’t you help me with the dishes while Bryce and your aunt discuss things?”

  “I’m the thing they’re discussing.” She twirled a pigtail. “I think I wanna stay right here.”

  “Charley.” Bryce and Kaitlin said her name at the same time. Charley mumbled under her breath but took it for the warning it was meant to be. Kaitlin watched with some amusement as Charley grudgingly helped Maggie clear the table.

  Bryce leaned back and stretched out his long legs. He looked so relaxed, like he belonged here at her table on a lazy Sunday morning. She took a sip of coffee to calm her thoughts.

  “I apologize. I shouldn’t have stormed in on your breakfast like that. It was rude. My ma died when I was ten, and Dad raised the five of us by himself. He didn’t much care about the little things. He was more concerned about runnin’ the ranch. I don’t want that for Charley.”

  Sh
e wished he hadn’t explained. A sudden picture of a lost little boy without a mother flashed through her mind. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for this man. She didn’t want to feel anything for this man.

  “Charley means an awful lot to you, doesn’t she?”

  “Yep, I guess so.”

  “That’s very commendable, considering Charley isn’t your daughter.”

  “She might as well be. I helped raise her.”

  “Were you married to my sister?” Kaitlin hadn’t meant to ask. He’d already told her once he didn’t plan on discussing his relationship to Bethany.

  “Heck no.” He stroked his mustache.

  “But the two of you were close?” She asked the question, not sure she really wanted an answer.

  “Close enough.”

  “And Charley?”

  Bryce sighed. Slowly he leaned forward, cradling a cup of hot coffee. He waited until Charley was out of earshot. “Your sister set up business in Brownwood before Charley was born. Bethany was a pretty little thing, and all the cowboys took a shine to her. She didn’t particularly care whom she made welcome, and it weren’t long before she became the most popular painted cat in town.”

  “You were one of her...admirers?” Her tone was flat. She hated what Bethany had become. She hated even more that this man had intimate knowledge of her sister.

  “Naw, I was only thirteen when Bethany showed up in Brownwood. She was sixteen. She treated me like a kid brother, and being rather shy with the ladies at that age, I didn’t want nothin’ else from her.”

  His answer surprised her. “I can’t believe you and Bethany were never intimate given her profession and your association with her.”

  “I never said that.” He shifted uneasily in his chair.

  “Oh.” She stared at her cup of coffee, wishing she’d kept silent.

  “Look, whatever she was or wasn’t to me is of little consequence.” He shrugged. “She saved my life once, and I owed her.”

  “So you took to raising Charley.”

  “I’d come get Charley and take her to the ranch on the weekends, times when Bethany was really busy caterin’ to her clients. I’d eat supper at Bethany’s place at least once a week. We’d both pretend we were a family of sorts. It gave me respite from my ornery brother, and I think it allowed her to pretend just for a little bit she was a respected woman with a normal life.”

  “And you gave Charley a sense of belonging,” she said, new respect for the man dawning with each word.

  Bryce stared at the cup of coffee. “She was a loveable child until she became nine. I think by then, she finally figured out what her mom did for a livin’. Nothin’ I did at that point made much difference. Charley was dead set on makin’ things miserable for both of us.”

  “Not many men would stand by a child who wasn’t their own.” She wanted to reach out and touch his hand. She placed both hands in her lap instead, resisting the urge.

  “I’ve been part of Charley’s life since she was born. I don’t like her much right now, but I love her, and I want the best for her.”

  “And you feel guilty.”

  “Guilty?”

  She took a sip of coffee and grimaced. It had turned cold, so she pushed the chipped cup aside. “I understand now why you spoil her. You bribe her with treats most of the time. And when she does something bad, you yell at her or lecture her, but you never make her accept consequences. You’re trying to make up for her lousy childhood and her misfortune in having a mother like Bethany.”

  “I never thought about it like that. Guess you’re right. I was never very good with the discipline part.”

  “I’m no expert, but you’re going to have to tighten the reins on that girl, or she’ll wind up just like her mother.”

  Bryce leaned forward, concern etching his brow. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know if I can. Maybe realizin’ what I’m doin’ wrong with Charley will help, but it’s hard to break a horse of bad habits. Will you help?”

  Kaitlin nodded. She could do nothing less. By being Bethany’s daughter, Charley had become her responsibility also. “I’ll do what I can. But you’re going to have to make a real effort to change. I can’t do it alone.”

  “All right. You may have to keep remindin’ me at times, but I’ll try to do better. Where do we start?”

  “School. If you’re going to hang around here for more than a week or two, I think she’d benefit from attending the local school here. I’ll enroll her tomorrow.”

  “Fine. School it is.” He pushed away from the table. “Then we finally agree on somethin’. Now that we’ve smoked the peace pipe, so to speak, I think I best be getting’ ready for church. You do still want Charley and me to go with you?”

  “Of course,” Kaitlin replied. “Church is a crucial part of a child’s upbringing. You have about an hour before we leave.”

  “Mighty fine. Maybe them boots’ll be dry by then.”

  Kaitlin glanced over at the soggy boots and stifled a laugh, remembering how Charley had declared them smellier than manure. The idea of Bryce having stinky feet somehow made him seem more human, more approachable.

  She smiled. “You’re welcome to borrow my talcum powder.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” Bryce gave her a puzzled look.

  “For those smelly boots. Why else?”

  His composure slipped, and his skin warmed to a rosy hue. She’d made him blush with her reminder he was less than the perfect catch. Then he surprised her by laughing. “Katy, you do say the darndest things. I’d be mighty obliged to borrow some of your talc. I can’t think of anything I’d rather smell than the scent of your lilac powder against my skin.”

  “It’s always nice to know my scented powder will hold a special place on your person,” she replied with all the sarcasm she could muster.

  Bryce whole body shook. “You make me laugh, Katy. You’re too good for my soul.”

  “Don’t you mean, sole as in soles of your feet?”

  He roared then, filling the room with boisterous laughter. Kaitlin joined him, enjoying the simple camaraderie. It had been too long since she’d allowed herself the luxury of such abandonment. Humor felt good. Too good. She would miss Bryce when he had to leave. It was sobering to think her time with Bryce would be very short. She was actually beginning to enjoy having him here.

  Thirteen

  “So, Miss Kanatzer, have you received any more of those hate letters recently?”

  Bryce looked up from the photographs he perused to hear Kaitlin’s reply to Dan Cochran’s question. With her back to him, her comment sounded muffled. Frustrated, he bent to his task. Bryce scanned the few pages of faces, knowing the attempt would be futile.

  Across the room, Dan had Kaitlin seated in a chair. The policeman took notes as Kaitlin imparted everything she knew about the latest incident.

  Bryce tossed the tintypes aside and sauntered over to Kaitlin and Dan. Propping a leg on the desk, he listened while Kaitlin answered each of Dan’s questions.

  “You’ve been receiving letters in the mail for over a month now, but until last Tuesday, nothing about these missives appeared different?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have the note you found wrapped around the rock?”

  Kaitlin pulled out the wrinkled slip of paper and handed it over. Dan studied it for a minute before setting it next to one of the other notes. Bryce leaned over to get a better view.

  “The handwriting is different,” Bryce observed.

  “So it would seem,” Dan murmured. “Looks like we’ve got two culprits to look for.”

  “But what does that mean?” Kaitlin asked.

  Dan scratched his balding pate. “Could mean nothing. Then again, it could be ‘the something’ that solves this case.”

  Kaitlin frowned. “Great. Now I can look forward to the unguarded interest of more than one beau. Just what a girl longs for.”

  Bryce snorted but refrained from comment. She didn’t need
him adding to her frustration.

  “Let’s examine all the possibilities,” Dan said. “This person could either be part of an organized effort to influence you to give up your involvement with the suffragists’ movement, or this person could be some kind of mentally ill fiend who’s singled you out.”

  Dan took out a piece of paper and began making notes. “The fact the handwriting differs from note to note does indeed suggest the possibility of more than one villain. So let’s assume the first scenario. If this is part of an organized effort, we need to make a list of all those who might benefit from seeing you leave town.”

  Kaitlin threw up her hands. “That’s easy. You can put down the owners of every bar in Denver for starters.”

  Her bitter tone did not deter Dan, who jotted down copious notes.

  Bryce removed his foot from the desk and pulled up a chair. “Katy, Mr. Cochran doesn’t need your sarcasm. The more information you can give him, the more ideas he can rule out.”

  “Thank you, Bryce, and call me Dan. I figure we’ll be working together for some time on this case. I doubt we’ll solve it overnight.”

  Kaitlin gave them both a sullen look. “Farley Kaufmann isn’t too fond of me right now. You know he’s running against John Routt for governor. He’s firmly against our suffrage movement, but he also owns several saloons, so our protests against drinking have ruffled his feathers.” She added a few more names to the list.

  Dan took out a pocketknife and paused to sharpen his pencil. Bryce’s respect for the police grew since Dan so quickly analyzed the implications of the differences in handwriting. In addition, Cochran asked a lot of questions, things Bryce wouldn’t have thought of. All in all, this might prove to be more productive than he’d thought.

  “Okay, that takes care of the first scenario. Let’s think about the second. Do you have any personal enemies? Jilted boyfriends, for example?”

  “Mr. Cochran, I do not entertain gentleman callers, and I doubt I ever will.”

  Her innocent remark struck a nerve, making Bryce frown. She always seemed to have a low opinion of her appeal.

  “What about family?”