The Miner's Lady

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The Miner's Lady Page 3

by Tracie Peterson


  “There have been so many changes in the past year,” Chantel murmured. And the biggest change of all was Isabella’s plans to marry. Chantel shook her head. Wasn’t it just yesterday that her sister played with dolls?

  They made their way to the general store and hurried inside to escape the brisk wind. “Well, if it isn’t the Panetta sisters,” the clerk declared. “I had heard you were back home, Miss Chantel.” The older man smiled. “I suppose you’ll be ordering more thread for tatting now.”

  Chantel returned the smile. “Indeed. Mama said she had some black silk thread ordered. She felt confident it would have come in by now.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was going to have it delivered if she didn’t send Miss Isabella over for it. I have it set aside in the back room. Was there anything else you were needing?”

  Isabella touched her sister’s coat sleeve. “I’m going to slip out back. I won’t be long. If Dante shows up in here, be sure and keep him busy. Don’t forget the sugar.”

  She had no chance to protest, so Chantel merely looked back at the clerk. “Mama wanted some sugar. She asked that you put that and the thread on our account. She’ll settle up tomorrow after Papa is paid.” Chantel thought of her coat. “Oh and I need to get a new coat. Do you have any in stock right now?”

  “I do. There are several nice ladies’ coats near the front of the store.” He pointed to the display window. “I also have some new things we just got in. Christmas will soon be here, and we have some lovely items for gifts.”

  Chantel nodded and made her way to the front. She looked over some embroidered gloves, several lovely enamel brooches, and a few cameos before she heard the store door open.

  She turned and recognized Orlando Calarco, but he didn’t even seem to notice her. Instead, he hurried toward the back of the store, disappearing out the same way Isabella had gone. Chantel stood transfixed for a moment, then turned her attention back to a selection of items for men. She tried hard to ignore what was taking place out back. Focusing on Christmas and her brothers instead, Chantel decided the heavy leather gloves and warm woolen caps might well be something her brothers would need. She had brought each family member a Christmas present from Italy, but something practical might well be appreciated, as well. She’d speak to Mama about it and see what she and Papa had planned.

  She looked the coats over and found a dark burgundy wool that suited her well. It was trimmed in black and looked to be just her size. She would have the clerk hold it for her. Taking it to the counter, she checked the price and winced. It was nearly nine dollars. She would have to sell a good amount of her tatting to help offset the cost.

  “Here you are,” the clerk said, returning with her sugar and thread.

  Chantel handed him the coat. “I wonder if you would hold this for me. I need to sell some tatting and make certain Papa approves the purchase of this expensive an item.” She smiled. “I know he will, but it’s always best to ask.”

  The clerk smiled. “I will trust you for it. It’s too cold to be without a good coat, and I see that one is getting quite worn. You take it now, and I will put it on a separate account for you. When you get your tatting money, you can pay me.”

  Chantel thanked him and waited while he folded it neatly into a box and tied it off with string. When he brought it back to the counter, he placed the box beside the sugar and thread. “So how was your trip abroad? Was it good?”

  “It was wonderful. I very much enjoyed spending the year with my Nonna and Nonno in Italy. They have a lovely house up on a hill that looks down over the little town where we walked to the market and church. It was quite beautiful.”

  “And warm?”

  “In the summer, it was paradise. Winter was . . . well . . . winter. We had a bit of snow, but not a great deal. When the weather was nice, however, we were outside as much as possible. I found it very hard to leave.”

  “You aren’t sorry to have returned to Ely, are you?” he asked with a hint of admonition in his tone. “You know, we have some very nice things to offer here, as well. Lake Shagawa was the scene of some good times this summer, and the ice is very nearly thick enough to begin winter skating. And you might want to know there’s a new ladies’ snowshoe club that formed just last winter. The young ladies plan outings together and go for winter walks.”

  Chantel picked up the sugar and thread and smiled. “I’m not much for the cold. I prefer a hot, sunny day, myself.”

  Just then three women entered the store, chattering up a storm about some problem they were seeking to resolve. Chantel grabbed the coat box and took the opportunity to slip out as the clerk welcomed the ladies and found himself drawn into the fracas. She had all but forgotten her assigned task, however, when she walked straight into Dante Calarco.

  “Pardon me. I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up to meet his surprised expression. For a moment his features were welcoming, but just as quickly they changed as he recognized her.

  “Miss Panetta,” he said. The words sounded forced.

  “Mr. Calarco.” She eyed him with a false sense of confidence.

  His dark eyes seemed to scrutinize her face as if looking for some flaw. Chantel felt her poise begin to slip. She knew she would have to take charge of the situation. She held her position in front of the store’s entryway.

  “I’ve just returned from Italy.” She knew it wouldn’t matter to him, but she continued. “Have you ever made the trip?”

  He shook his head. “Been busy working since I was sixteen. I don’t have time for such luxuries.”

  She gave him a curt nod of acknowledgment. “Well, it is a luxury to be certain. I very much enjoyed the time with family.”

  He said nothing for a moment, then gave a shrug. “If you don’t mind, I’m looking for my brother.”

  “Your brother?” Chantel questioned. “I sometimes forget you have a brother.”

  “There’s no need for you to either remember or forget it. As you will recall, our families are not exactly on speaking terms.”

  She gave a laugh. “Well, we’re standing here speaking, so I suppose we’ve broken with that tradition. I always felt it was a silly one, anyway.”

  “You would. I’ve not yet known a Panetta to honor family in the same way we Calarcos do.”

  Chantel felt her ire rise. “Now, just a minute, Mr. Calarco. My family is a very honorable one. I simply feel that God’s desire for us to live at peace with one another is far more honorable.”

  “You sound like my brother.” He pushed past her to go into the store.

  “Then he’s a good deal smarter than you,” she called after him, remembering Isabella’s comment to irritate Dante if all else failed.

  Dante turned and narrowed his eyes. “You sound as if you’d like to perpetuate the feud. Insulting me certainly isn’t any way to make friends.”

  Chantel shrugged. “I wasn’t attempting to insult you, but to speak the truth. I believe God’s Word makes it clear we aren’t to bear grudges, but rather are to bear one another’s burdens.”

  “Will you preach an entire sermon here in the cold?” he asked, his voice dripping sarcasm.

  Knowing she had to do whatever she could to keep him from searching out Orlando, Chantel smiled. “Mr. Calarco, I am hardly preaching. No, I am simply stating that it seems uncalled for that we should be at odds. Our families might have had troubles in the past, but there is certainly no need to continue that now. America is the land of new beginnings. Perhaps it will take a new generation to put aside our differences. Especially now.”

  “What’s so special about now?” Dante replied, looking at her oddly.

  Chantel was momentarily taken off guard. There was no way she would betray her sister’s trust. “Especially now . . . that you and I . . .” She tried hard to regain control of her thoughts. “Especially now that you and I have met like this . . . and discussed the matter.” She squared her shoulders and looked at him with what she hoped was an air of confidence.

  H
e shook his head. “I thought perhaps you were going to say now that your sister has seduced my younger brother into thinking he should marry her.”

  Her eyes widened, and any denials caught in her throat.

  “I’m glad you’re not attempting to tell me you know nothing about it,” Dante continued. “Lying wouldn’t fit with your desire to follow the Good Book.”

  Chantel drew a deep breath. “I have no reason to lie. Perhaps, however, you should consider that it might have been your brother who enticed my sister.” She took a step closer. “After all, she is young and innocent.”

  “Ha!” he replied, leaning forward, his face very near to hers. “Innocence is hardly something your family would be familiar with.”

  “How dare you?” Chantel rose on tiptoe to better face him. “I offered you an olive branch—peace between us. And instead you choose to insult my family.”

  “Miss Panetta, I neither want your olive branches, nor your peace. I am not going to be the one to betray our ancestors.”

  “Our ancestors? Must you continue to hide behind them?”

  Chantel realized she’d probably gone too far. Dante’s face reddened, and he poked his index finger against her shoulder. “I’m not hiding behind anyone, and I’d thank you to remember it. You have a sharp tongue, Miss Panetta, and I’ll not remain here to be berated by you regarding what you perceive as right and wrong.”

  “Chantel! There you are,” Isabella said, coming from behind her sister. She took hold of Chantel’s arm. “Goodness, it looks like you bought out the store.”

  “I needed a new coat,” Chantel replied.

  Isabella nodded knowingly and relieved her sister of the other purchases. “We need to get this sugar home to Mama.” The sisters exchanged a brief glance, and Isabella smiled and gave a nod. “Mr. Calarco, good day.”

  Chantel didn’t fight as Isabella pulled her along down the boardwalk. She couldn’t resist one backward glance, however. It was a mistake to look. Dante stared back, and for just a moment Chantel feared he might actually come after them.

  Dante was dumbfounded by the open way Chantel Panetta baited him. He was further surprised by the fact that he’d fallen for it. No doubt she’d been instructed by her sister to run interference for the young lovers. He kicked at the doorjamb and all but growled when Orlando appeared, looking for all the world as if nothing were amiss.

  He held up a small sack. “They had the ointment Nonna wanted. We can go home now.”

  Dante grabbed his brother by the lapel of his coat and slammed him up against the wall. “You were meeting her again, weren’t you? Don’t even think to lie to me,” he continued without giving his brother a chance to answer. “I just spent the last few minutes arguing with her sister.”

  Orlando looked at his brother for a moment, then shrugged. Dante wanted to pummel him for his seeming indifference. “Like I told you, this has to stop. If I have to, I’ll go to Mr. Panetta himself. I kind of doubt he knows anything about this romance.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Orlando countered, pulling away from his brother’s hold.

  “If you don’t stop seeing her—and stop all this nonsense about wanting to marry her—I will.” Dante turned for home. “Just see if I don’t.”

  Chapter 4

  Marco Panetta punched his brother’s arm. “You ready to go?”

  Alfredo looked up from the supper table with a nod. “Let me get my hat.”

  “You boys shouldn’t go to town,” Mama said, clearing dishes from the table. “You know it’s no good for you. Save your pay, and don’t let those foxes take it from you.”

  Marco ignored her pleadings. It was always the same. His mama didn’t like that her sons frequented the local saloons and gaming houses. Marco went to her side and kissed her forehead.

  “You worry too much, Mama. Alfredo and I just want a little time to play pool and maybe some cards. There’s nothing in the Bible that says we can’t enjoy the fruit of our labors.”

  “Bah! You don’t read the Bible enough to know what it says,” Mama retorted. “Better you should stay home and study Scriptures than go off to lose your money in drink and games. If you stay home, I could get Chantel to read to us.”

  “I’m not in the mood for a story, Mama.” He could see the worry on her face, but Marco wasn’t going to give in.

  The two brothers encountered their father on the way out the front door. He eyed them suspiciously, then gave a shrug. “You boys stay outta trouble,” he commanded. “If the marshal hauls you off to jail, I won’t come get you.”

  “Pa, we aren’t going to cause trouble, and we aren’t looking to do anything that would put us behind bars,” Marco replied. He brushed back his oiled brown hair and grinned. “I just want to enjoy myself a little bit. We had a hard week, and a little fun is in order.”

  Their father understood this better than their mother, but still he gave his boys a rather reproving look. “Be careful. You know the evils in this town. You know how dangerous it can be.”

  Marco and Alfredo nodded. “We will be careful,” Marco replied. “We’ll just go see Leo and no one else.”

  Leo Fortino owned the Fortune Hole Saloon and Gaming House. It was a favorite among the Italians who enjoyed Fortino’s homage to the old country. He employed Italian girls to entertain and dance. There were even painted murals on the walls of the saloon depicting Italian landmarks and scenery.

  Marco and Leo had become fairly good friends over the course of time. The two were around the same age, and Leo had a strong interest in Marco’s sisters. More than once he’d encouraged Marco to introduce him properly to Chantel and Isabella. Of course, Fortino would never be considered an acceptable suitor for either one. Marco knew his mother wouldn’t allow for her daughters to court a saloon owner. Especially one with a reputation like Fortino’s. The man and his place were notorious for fights—even killings.

  The Fortune Hole was packed to capacity, as was expected on payday. Marco and Alfredo made their way to the bar where Leo was busy marking figures in a book while the man standing in front of him counted out money onto the bar.

  “You sure you wanna put it all in the safe?” Leo asked the man. “You don’t wanna spend a little on the tables?” He grinned at the man and rubbed his well-trimmed mustache. “They’re paying out tonight.”

  The man looked longingly over his shoulder and then back to Leo. “Jes putta the money inna the safe. My wife, she threatened to poison my food if I lost our money at the cards again.”

  Leo laughed heartily, and even Marco couldn’t help but grin. The threat of an Italian wife was not to be taken lightly; however, such an extreme reckoning was unlikely. The man took a receipt from Leo, gave Marco and Alfredo a nod, and, with one last look at the gaming tables, exited the saloon.

  “He’ll be back later tonight,” Leo declared. He put the man’s money in the safe behind him and turned back to the Panetta brothers. “What can I do for you two?”

  “We’re here to deposit our earnings, too,” Marco said, putting his money on the bar. “Of course, not all of it.”

  Leo smiled. “Of course not. If you’re feeling lucky tonight, there’s going to be a high-stakes game in the Snake Room. When I finish up here, I’ll be dealing.”

  Marco glanced toward the door across the room. This exit led to a short hall and several other rooms, one of which was known for its more intense games. Most saloons had a snake room where men could lose their lives as easily as they lost their money. Even so, it was one of Marco’s favorite places to spend his time.

  “Sounds challenging,” he said, looking back at Leo.

  “It should be.”

  He counted through Marco’s money and wrote a receipt. While many of the immigrants didn’t trust the banks to handle their money, they were less guarded with their favorite saloonkeeper. Many of the bar owners kept the miners’ wages for them in the house safe. They spent most of their money in the saloon anyway, so it seemed only appropriate.

/>   After seeing to their deposits, Marco and Alfredo made their way around the room. They each ordered beers and flirted with the women who served them. One of the girls named Bianca was a favorite of Marco’s.

  “You are here for some fun, no?” she asked in thickly accented English.

  “I’m here for the best time money can buy,” Marco declared. He nodded toward one of the gaming tables. “You wanna be my lady luck?”

  Her dark eyes flashed as her sensuous mouth widened in a smile. “I wanna be whatever you want me to be.”

  Marco lost track of Alfredo for a time and concentrated on Bianca and the games at hand. He lost and won several hands of poker, then grew bored and headed to the Snake Room. Bianca clung to his arm possessively.

  “We could go to my room,” she whispered low.

  “Leo’s expecting me,” Marco replied, giving her a wink. “I feel lucky tonight. Maybe I’ll win a big fortune, and we can run away together.”

  She pouted and moved to stand in front of the closed door to the Snake Room. “You tease me, but you know I adore you. I will run away with you, Marco.”

  He nodded, knowing she would run away with anyone who would take her from this life. He couldn’t blame her for trying. “Come on, now. We can’t keep Leo waiting.”

  Giving up, Bianca opened the door and stepped aside. True to his word, Leo was now dealing cards to several men. Marco recognized some of the players. Most were well into their cups, enjoying the cheap liquor. With a shot of whiskey selling for ten cents and a twelve-ounce schooner of beer for a nickel, it was often said, “There’s a whole lot of drunkenness to be had in a dollar.”

  Feeling rather sober in light of this new company, Marco tossed Bianca a nickel and told her to fetch him another beer. She gave a playful nip to his earlobe before slinking off across the room and out the door. Marco knew that she would try to entice him to spend the night with her, but he would refuse as he had done in the past. Drinking and gaming was one thing, but he would not grieve his mother by associating with the local soiled doves. After all, a man needed to have his standards.

 

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