Kaitlin's Silver Lining

by Gold, Ciara

  “Let me read it, Jack.” Maggie pulled the paper from his trembling hands. He was such a proud man. Her heart went out to him for all he’d suffered in his past. Her life hadn’t been a piece of cake, but she’d had it better than most.

  His eyes met hers, communicating silently his regret over things he couldn’t change. She understood. She understood all too well what it meant to regret.

  Head of Newly Formed Suffrage Group Caught in Compromising Situation

  By L. M. Klein

  Kaitlin Kanatzer, self-acclaimed leader for the Mountain Ridge Chapter of Colorado Suffrage Association, has taken in a male boarder. Seen around town together, one must question her moral intentions toward this man. It is highly improper this woman should preach to us about morality when she flaunts her lover in such a disgraceful manner.

  Maggie laid the paper down. Although there was more, she’d read enough. “Why must people be so hateful?”

  Jack covered her hand with his. “Ignorance mostly.”

  “What are we going to do about this?” Maggie couldn’t believe the audacity of the author. The truth had been stretched so poorly, it didn’t even resemble the truth. What purpose did these people have for targeting Kaitlin?

  “What can we do?”

  Charley made a grab for the paper. “What’re they saying about Aunt Kate?”

  Jack snatched the paper from her hands, ripping it in the process. “Ain’t nothing here a little girl needs to read.”

  “I’m not a little girl.”

  “When you act the way you do, you’re a little girl,” Jack said, putting the paper behind him.

  Maggie retrieved the paper and handed it to Charley. “Here, Charley. Read for yourself. I think you need to see what hate and prejudice does to folks. Maybe then you’ll begin to understand why we find your attitude so offensive at times. This article not only smears Kaitlin’s good name. It also attacks your Uncle Bryce.”

  Charley pieced the torn article together and held it flat on the table while she tried to read. Several times, she had to have Maggie sound out a big word for her. When she finally finished, she looked up at Maggie, a perplexed frown marring her otherwise perfect complexion. “I don’t understand?”

  “They’re accusing your aunt of having an affair with Bryce, of enjoying an immoral affiliation with the man.”

  “But that’s a lie. Bryce would never dally with a woman.” Her beginning words were full of heat, but then she became very quiet, and Maggie had to strain to hear the rest. “I should know. He was the only man that came to our house just for dinner. He was the only man who didn’t follow Momma into the bedroom where she closed the door.”

  Maggie came around the table and put her arms around Charley, beginning to understand for the first time what it meant for Charley to grow up under Bethany’s care.

  Charley leaned into Maggie’s embrace. “He was the only man I ever liked, loved. I wanted him to be my daddy, to love me as if I were his special girl. I wanted it so badly.”

  Tears fell from Charley’s eyes, and Maggie hugged her tighter, sensing there was more. Charley whimpered. “I wanted him to be my daddy so badly I started hounding Momma, begging her to make it come true.”

  “Maybe, I best be goin’,” Jack said, clearing his throat against the emotional scene. Over the top of Charley’s head, Maggie nodded.

  “Let it all out, girl. You can tell Maggie.”

  “I came home early from school cuz my throat hurt. Bryce’s horse was out front, so I hurried inside. He was in her bedroom. I was furious. I was going to barge in and stop him, but then I heard momma crying. She’d asked Bryce to marry up with her, and he’d refused. She’d done that for me.”

  “Your momma must have loved you very much.”

  “It was all my fault.”

  “What was your fault?”

  “Momma dying.”

  Maggie knelt in front of the crying child. “No, don’t ever think that. You mustn’t ever think you’re to blame.”

  “But I was. Bryce couldn’t be my daddy if he wouldn’t marry her, but he could be my daddy if she died. Don’t you see? She killed herself for me. I killed her. I killed my momma as surely as if I’d pulled the trigger.”

  Twenty Three

  Farley Kaufmann smiled. The newspaper he held in his right hand rustled ever so slightly. He sipped slowly on a cup of coffee while he absorbed the article that caused his mood to lighten. Finally, his schemes had paid off. He was pleased his plan to discredit Kaitlin Kanatzer was going so well. James deserved a bonus for this. Farley wanted the governorship, and if he had to stoop low to get it then so be it.

  It was his idea to send those letters. He hoped they might scare her into leaving, or at the very least, persuade her to back off from her suffrage activities. When he heard that James hired a youngster to throw that rock through her window, he’d order James to put a halt on the letters. As far as he could see, the harmless pranks had done nothing toward changing Kaitlin’s endeavors in making his life difficult. Having James send the anonymous tip to the newspaper was a stroke of genius, though. With her reputation tarnished, Kaitlin’s words would no longer have the impact they once had.

  The door to his office opened without a preceding knock of warning. Emma swept into the small space, her expression less than congenial.

  “Did you have anything to do with this...this horrible rumor?” Her eyes flashed with barely concealed fury. She tossed another copy of the article on the desk in front of him.

  He didn’t even bother staring at it. “What gives you that idea?”

  “You. Your jealousy. That awful fight we had after Bryce came to call upon me. Did you do this because of your insane jealousy?”

  The sigh he exhaled was so slight, he doubted Emma had detected it. Relief made the corners of his mouth curve. She’d attributed his misdeeds to something other than the truth. “I would hope you know I’m above such machinations.”

  “I know nothing of the sort.” She pouted. “I agreed to marry you because I like the idea of being the first lady some day. I strongly believe in your ability to fight your way to the top in the political arena, and I want to be there at the top with you. I do not love you, so it won’t break my heart should we decide this marriage is no longer mutually beneficial.”

  “Are you threatening me, dear?”

  “No. I believe I’m just reminding you of where I stand in this relationship.”

  “Then, by all means, let’s be brutally honest with each other. I don’t particularly love you either, but I find you very beautiful, and I like collecting beautiful things. You come from a wealthy family, another factor that works well to my advantage. I’m sure my future father-in-law will see the wisdom in contributing to my campaign. My display of jealously was of a practical nature. I won’t be cockled once we’re wed. Bryce Stanton struck me as a man who doesn’t give up all that easily.”

  “He has no real interest in me.” She patted her hair with her white-gloved hand.

  “It didn’t look that way when the man came calling.” He planted his hands on his well-organized desk and studied her beautiful face. “I think his charming niece was quite right in assuming he’d planned to ask you for your hand.”

  “Maybe, but he doesn’t love me.” Her delicate shoulders lifted slightly. “If he did, he would have made more of an effort to court me despite your previous claim.”

  He leaned forward, peering at her intently. “I’m not admitting to anything, but...if Bryce Stanton were any sort of a gentleman, he would salvage Miss Kanatzer’s damaged reputation by marrying her. Once married, he would no longer be free to pursue you, now, would he?”

  “You’re heartless, without a soul. Bryce Stanton is a decent man, one who won’t be manipulated into marriage this way.”

  Farley felt the need to stand and confront his intended with his physical presence. He rounded the desk and closed the gap between them. “I think you rather like heartless men.”

  Her
gray eyes smoldered with heat. Farley’s heartbeat accelerated. There was nothing more stimulating than a good fight. He ran his finger along her cheek and felt her tremble.

  “I like power.” She leaned into his palm. “Don’t think to confuse the two. A compassionate man with power is far more appealing than a man who gains his power through nefarious methods.”

  Farley smiled, caressing her soft skin. “Then know I had nothing to do with those articles, love. It is by sheer coincidence the rumors spread here work to my advantage.”

  “Give me your word,” she whispered.

  “On my honor as the next governor of the newly formed state of Colorado, I give you my word,” he answered. Her small sigh of acceptance was all the invitation he needed. He pulled her into his arms, sealing his lie with a kiss.

  Twenty Four

  A kick to his side had Bryce scrambling to awaken. Groggy, he looked up into the barrel of a twenty-two-gauge shotgun. Slowly he lifted his head, holding up his hands to indicate his unarmed status.

  “Get up, you mangy cur. The Sarge don’t appreciate squatters.” The man shook the gun at Bryce, indicating he should rise.

  Bryce wiggled out from under the bedding he’d laid out in the front room. His bare feet met the cold wooden floor, and he shivered. He wanted to glance over at the bedroom but feared the gesture would alert this man to Kaitlin’s presence.

  A noise caught his attention, and he whirled his head in the direction of the bedroom anyway. Kaitlin staggered through the door, prodded by the tip of a gun wedged against her back.

  She blinked, staring at Bryce, and her lips spread into a wide smile. “Red? I would have figured you for a gray flannel pair, Bryce.”

  He felt the blood rush to his face, and he was sure the color of his skin matched that of the red, long-handled underwear she’d been referring to. Although her riding habit appeared crumpled, she looked well rested. She must have slept in the clothes she’d worn yesterday.

  “Come here, missy, while Will searches through your man’s things.” The outlaw waved his gun, indicating she should step away from Bryce’s makeshift bed.

  Bryce watched as Will patted down his bedding. Grinning, Will lifted the Colt .45 from under the blanket. “Lookee, here, Johnny Boy. He’s toting a mighty fancy gun for a squatter.”

  “I think we have a bit of a misunderstanding here. We’re not squatters.” Bryce kept his eye on the wavering gun, frustrated by his inability to protect Kaitlin.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But you were trespassing on Sarge’s land. He don’t cotton to strangers much.”

  Ah. These hombres hadn’t happened upon them by accident. They’d been sent as the welcoming committee. Bryce gave Kaitlin a pointed look. “Maybe now would be a good time to explain to me who Sarge is.”

  Kaitlin shrugged. “He’s of no consequence to me.”

  “Kaitlin.” Bryce narrowed his eyes in warning. Her stubborn attitude wasn’t helping matters.

  “What now, Will? Are we gonna shoot ’em?”

  Will squeezed his mouth into a grim line and closed one eye. Bryce shifted nervously. If it were only him, he’d make a lunge for Will while the man relaxed his guard. Unfortunately, he had Kaitlin to worry about. Such action would likely get one of them shot if not killed. Patience. He needed to remain calm, waiting for the right opening that would guarantee a favorable outcome for both of them.

  “Reckon Sarge will wanna look ’em over. He tol’ me once to bring any vagrants to him personally. Come on then. March on outta here.” Will motioned for Bryce and Kaitlin to exit the cabin.

  “You don’t mean to parade me about in my long johns, do you?” Bryce balked at the command. If he meant to deal with this Sarge character in a way that demanded the man’s full attention, he needed to present an authoritative picture. Red-handled long johns just wouldn’t do.

  “Please, Will. It will be in everyone’s best interests if you allow Bryce to dress.” Kaitlin voiced her request in a more gentle voice.

  Johnny chuckled.

  Will scratched his chin. “It is a mite chilly outside, what with that new cold front movin’ in. Course, a brisk ride in your undies might teach you better than to trespass where you’re not invited. Nah. I think he can meet Sarge just like he is.”

  They were both marched outside and instructed to mount up. Bryce limped to his horse, the cold making his bare, right foot more uncomfortable than usual. The thin flannel wasn’t enough to guard against the bitter northeasterly winds. Above them, a dark gray-green seized the sky, an ominous forewarning of bad weather to come.

  While they rode, he tried to think about who Sarge might be to Kaitlin. The pondering helped take his mind off his shivering limbs.

  He glanced at her, surprised to see her sitting rigid and unsmiling in the saddle. She wasn’t happy to be so summarily ordered about, but what had she expected? Whoever Sarge was to her, he’d sent several letters requesting, no, demanding her return to Oresonville. If not someone intimate, Sarge had to be a relative. He wanted to ask her again but knew she wouldn’t answer him. She must enjoy keeping him in suspense. It had become a game for her. His teeth clattered uncontrollably, and he wrapped one arm around his middle to stave off the cold while guiding his horse with the other hand.

  By the time they reached the main house, the tips of Bryce’s mustache were frosted with granules of ice. His skin had a blueish cast, and his toes tingled. Stiff limbed, he dismounted, cussing the stubborn witch who’d kept silent through the long ride. He stifled a cry of pain when his bare feet kissed the snow-laden ground. If not for Kaitlin, he’d be sipping hot coffee by a campfire instead of freezing his ass off at the point of a gun.

  “Gosh, Will,” Johnny exclaimed. “The least you coulda done was let the man have his boots. His poor toes look frostbit.”

  Bryce’s body rattled with uncontrollable shivers, and his teeth chattered. Too cold, he failed to comment on Johnny’s observation. Thankfully, he still had feeling in his feet, so he didn’t think they were frostbit yet.

  “Come on, you two. Get on inside where Sarge can have a look-see at his newest squatters.” The hard edge of Will’s gun dug into Bryce’s back.

  Bryce stopped walking. “You—you stick that th—th—thing in my back one more time, boy, and I’ll r—ram it down your throat. I’ve been mighty patient, but after r—riding almost naked in the dead of winter for n—no reason I can see, I’m not feelin’ very tolerant. In fact, as soon as I w—warm up some, I might have to take out my poor h—hu—humor on your hide.”

  Will removed the gun, and Bryce followed Kaitlin inside. Warmth invaded his skin, and he sighed when his feet connected with the woven rug that covered the wood floor. Rich, polished mahogany paneled the walls, and a doublewide set of stairs led to a second floor. The impressive foyer reminded Bryce of the Double S but was more elaborate. He wished he could see Kaitlin’s face. She’d been so quiet throughout the ride. Noting her clenched fists, he reached for her hand. She swiveled her head toward him, her skin bleached by—fear? He tried to give her a smile of reassurance, but he was still peeved at her unwitting part in their current predicament.

  She continued looking at Bryce when they were directed into the study. A large man occupied a seat behind the desk, his face buried in a set of ledgers. Without glancing their direction, he snarled, “What is it, Will? I’m rather busy at the moment.”

  “Yes sir, I can see that, but me and Johnny Boy caught us a couple of vagrants. They made use of the honeymoon cabin. Moved in like they planned to stay.”

  The man’s eyes snapped up and caught Bryce’s gaze straight on. “That right, boy?”

  Bryce took exception to being referred to as boy. He was twenty-nine, a seasoned cowboy. He stood a bit taller, staring the older man down. Kaitlin squeezed his hand so hard he thought she’d cut off the circulation. He allowed the familiarity, enjoying the notion she needed him, even if for only a brief moment.

  The man swung his gaze toward Kaitlin, and Bryce
knew the very minute recognition shone in the man’s face.

  “Katy?”

  Kaitlin didn’t nod, didn’t smile, didn’t acknowledge the man in any way. She just stood in mute defiance, and crossed her arms against her chest, dropping Bryce’s hand in the process. He mourned the loss of contact but understood her need to assert her independence.

  “Goddamn it, girl.” He leaned across his desk. “You’ll speak when spoken to, or so help me, I’ll...”

  “Beat me? Yell at me? Belittle me in front of the hired hands?”

  He shook a finger at her. “You watch your tongue, girl.”

  “Kaitlin? Who is this man?” Bryce asked again, hoping this time she would tell him the truth, though he suspected he already knew.

  “The man who sired me.”

  “Your father?”

  “No. Don’t ever confuse one with the other.” She kept her eyes trained on Sarge. “A father is someone who loves and nurtures his children. Sarge here is a cold-hearted ogre, a man not fit to have children, let alone raise them.”

  Sarge bounded to his feet and slammed his palms flat on the table. “By God, that’ll be enough. I’ve waited years for this reunion. I won’t let you ruin it with your petty little insults.”

  “I love you, too, Sarge.” Her sarcastic words made her father visibly flinch.

  Sarge started to say something but must have thought better of it, for he suddenly turned his full attention to Bryce. “Explain this man to me, Katy.”

  “He’s my bodyguard.”

  At that, Sarge smiled derisively. “I couldn’t have picked out a better one for you myself. He looks mighty tough in those long johns. You sure he doesn’t mean anything else to you?”