As she followed her father to the door with his carpet bag, tears formed in her eyes. How could Max be so cruel? Her father gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Mind yourself, girlie,” he said before heading up the road. She turned around to say something to Max, but he had disappeared.
Chapter 6
Max sat in his office fingering the hem of the pair of pants. Double hemmed, he thought. He had never noticed before. The distributor he purchased them from didn’t tell him the difference. And although he wasn’t being charged $1 a pair, he still wanted to be a good steward of his money.
He wasn’t rich by any means, but he had enough to live comfortably, and provide for a wife. Wife. He was sure he didn’t want one, but the word kept coming up. Dismissing the thought, he pulled out the invoices.
Most of the stock for his store came from New York, Boston and Philadelphia. He had established relationships with those manufacturers from his days as a fabric buyer. Ironically, his skills for relationship building were never appreciated by his father once he finally returned to New York.
So, where he worked with all the other garment makers in New York he avoided that one area of town his father served. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. There was no room in his life for his father.
When he purchased the store and the fire started in Creede he lost most of the inventory at that time due to the smoke. The only reason he rebuilt and stayed in the small town, was that the dry goods specialized in work wear and the mercantile had a very poor selection of men’s clothing. He liked the slower pace as the town started to grow.
As the town increased in residents, more folks were appreciative of having a fine cut jacket or a pair of pants for church or the theater.
He started with a few jackets and moved up to pants, cravats and even hats. There had been a small notion display when he purchased the store, but he found a need to expand it when his customers would come back looking for a button to replace one that had fallen off. Now he carried everything from needles to thread wax.
Creede was growing and he’d like to grow with it. He had often thought of expanding the shop, but he didn’t have the expertise for sewing or custom-made clothing. He actually thought about adding a shoe shine stand and shave chair, but those plans always seemed off in the distance.
Maybe expanding to include a tailor shop would be exactly what he needed. If Cassie and her father could help as he built operations, it could be beneficial to them all. He would have help, and they would have a stipend and somewhere to stay.
He thought of Cassie and her delight over the tarts the day before. She really was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There was such an air of innocence around her.
He guessed her to be not a day over twenty years of age. That meant he was ten years older than she.
He wondered why she wasn’t married. She certainly was beautiful, and his father taught him that that was half a requirement in a wife.
He didn’t want to think about his father. His mother died under mysterious circumstances and his father shipped him off to boarding school. While he was away at school, he ended up falling and splitting his head open. It took him nearly a year to recover.
Did he truly recover? He started having problems concentrating. He couldn’t stand noise. The only thing that kept him calm was the repetitive motions of counting everything. He wrote things down so he wouldn’t forget them.
It was when the stress of buying and selling fabric became too much, he left. He felt like an outcast among the hustle of New York. It took him quite a while to feel settled again.
That settled feeling was disturbed the moment Cassie waltzed into his store. He felt different when he was around Cassie. It was a good different.
He was so worried when Cassie fainted in the stables. He didn’t mean to scare her. He smiled as he thought about the way Hal confronted him. Observing Hal’s interactions with Cassie, he could see that the man was rough, but cared deeply for his daughter.
When Max was finally able to explain that he came to offer them a room for the night, Hal picked up his bags and Max scooped Cassie in his arms to bring her back to his house.
She was tinier than he imagined. Her small figure fit perfectly in his arms. He held her close as he carried her to the guest bedroom.
He left Hal with the unconscious woman, as he went to get Maybelle and Dr. Thomas. The doctor gave her a quick examination and said she fainted most likely from exhaustion and shock. He suggested bed rest until Cassie woke up on her own.
Maybelle didn’t bat an eye when Max asked her to dress Cassie in her night clothes. Max showed Hal to another room down the hall before returning to Cassie’s room. Maybelle had already left, so he pulled a chair over and watched over Cassie until the early morning hours.
It was just as the sun was rising that he went to the bakery to pick up pastries. When he returned, he discovered Hal in his office. The man was studying the most recent shipment of trousers from New York.
They discussed quality and fabrics and Max was amazed that Hal knew so much about the garment industry. They chatted until Max remembered seeing Mr. Gladstone in the alley and needed to go find him.
It wouldn’t do to have Mr. Gladstone announcing his presence to the neighborhood. The cat could be downright loud when he wanted to be.
Max shook himself out of his day dreaming and placed the invoices back on his desk. He’d write a letter to the factory owner demanding a better price.
He scribbled a note to himself and then went in search of the beauty that was occupying his thoughts.
“Did your Father leave?” Max asked. He was standing at the door to the dining room.
Cassie was sitting at the table where he left her, tying the string back around the box. “Yes, he went to the hotel,” she said, her voice edged with anger. “I don’t know why you made him leave but offered for me to stay. That was wrong.”
The tone in her voice made Max pause. He would give anything to hear that honey sound again. Max placed his hand on the door latch and pressed it down. Once, twice, three times. The sound of the latch clicking back and forth soothed him.
“I know. I see that you are worried about him.”
Cassie tossed her napkin to the table. “He’s perfectly fine. He can take care of himself. I just think it is inappropriate for me to stay here with you alone. I’ll grab my bag and see if I can stay at the boarding house. Since it would only be me, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
Cassie stood and went to walk by him. Max reached out his hand and clasped her arm. She paused, looking at him.
“Let me go talk to him. Perhaps I can figure something out.”
“Your house, your rules? You wouldn’t want to make an exception for anyone.”
“I know.” He removed his hand from her arm and gently caressed her face. “Just give me a little bit to talk to him.” He dropped his hand and moved to let her pass.
Max watched as she headed up the stairs to the room she was staying in. Her hips swayed slightly as she took her time walking up the steps. Max swallowed, but he couldn’t look away. He heard her voice talking low to Mr. Gladstone, and then she disappeared behind her door.
Max hated people pleasing, but he wanted to please Cassie more than anything. He still didn’t know why.
He grabbed his jacket and headed up the road towards the Golden Nugget. It wasn’t a section of town he spent a lot of time in, as he didn’t drink or consort with loose women. The street was lined with cowboys and miners, mingling in front of the saloons. Max weaved his way through the crowd to the hotel.
He went inside and talked to the man behind the counter. The man directed him toward the saloon, saying he told Hal to come back a little later when the rooms would be cleaned up.
Max thanked him and headed to the Silver Spur. He found Hal sitting at the end of the counter, a mug between his hands. His bag sat on the floor at his feet.
“Cassie is worried about you,” Max sa
id, taking a seat next to the older man.
“Nah, she’ll be fine. She always has been.” He drained his mug in one go and placed it back down on the counter, emitting a loud burp into the air. Laughter was heard throughout the room.
“Oh my, that hurt,” he said, pounding his chest. He signaled the bartender who appeared with a full mug that he placed in front of Hal.
“What can I get you?” the bartender said to Max.
“What’s he having?” Max asked, pointing to Hal’s mug. It was too red to be beer, and he knew whiskey wasn’t served in mugs like that.
“Sarsaparilla.”
“I’ll take one then,” he tossed a few coins onto the counter to pay for both drinks. The bartender returned with a mug and collected the coins.
“Thanks for the drink,” Hal said, taking another sip from his mug.
Max tasted the reddish drink and grimaced. “That’s a little bitter,” he said. He took another sip and the unpleasant taste mellowed on his tongue, this time with undertones of vanilla and licorice.
“I take it you don’t drink?” Hal asked him.
“Not a fan of anything that makes me lose my faculties.” Max picked up his glass and turned around, so he was looking at the patrons. “My father was a drinker. Nasty drunk too.”
Max’s eyes roamed over the men sitting at the tables. Some were playing cards, others were sipping beer, and with ladies sitting on their laps. “I don’t think Cassie would like you hanging out at an establishment like this.”
“I fit in,” Hal said, pointing to his stained pants. “You, however, stand out like a dress on a mule.”
Max barked a laugh. He could see where Cassie’s wit came from. “I guess I do.”
Most of the men wore dungaree pants covered in dirt with frayed hems. Some didn’t even wear shirts under the bib portion of the overalls. Max was the only one in the establishment wearing a frock. At least the bartender wore a linen shirt and a string tie.
He turned back to Hal, who was turning his mug in his hand. To an outsider it might appear like boredom. To Max it was something more. Max silently counted, watching Hal’s crooked fingers rotate the mug. Five. He rotated it five times.
“How long have you been doing that?” Max asked, pointing to the mug.
“Doing what?” Hal released the mug, pretending not to notice what Max was eluding to.
Max let it drop. “Do you have enough money to pay for a hotel?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“Your daughter came into my store yesterday asking for employment. You were sleeping in a livery.”
“That is only because those buildings were full.”
“I think it became my business when I brought your daughter back to my house and paid for a doctor to look her over.” Max gave the older man a hard stare. Hal shifted on the barstool and dropped his eyes back to his drink.
“I told you Cassie will be fine. She’s a smart girl, just like her Momma.”
“I’m not so sure. She is frightened of something. What I’m not sure.”
Hal paused, the mug halfway to his mouth. He didn’t look at Max. Throwing back his head, he finished his drink and pushed the mug to the edge of the bar top. “I dunno. Maybe she’s worried about her brother?”
“She has a brother?”
Hal nodded. “Named Charles. We had to leave him in New York. Will send word once we get settled.”
“How old is Cassie?” Max asked.
“Just turned nineteen.”
“Charles older or younger?”
“Older by three years.” Hal rubbed his forehead. “Why all these questions.”
“I want to know the type of people I employ.” There was definitely something they weren’t telling him, but he didn’t think it was too serious, so he didn’t press it. Max polished off his sarsaparilla and placed the empty mug next to the one Hal pushed to the corner of the bar. “How about you come back to the house tonight?”
“I told you, I ain’t going to church.”
Max nodded. “Alright. You don’t have to go tomorrow, but now you know; you’ll have to go next week. That way you aren’t paying for a place to stay and Cassie isn’t alone in the house. It would be inappropriate otherwise.”
“I guess I can do that.” Hal scratched his chin. “For Cassie.”
Chapter 7
The next morning Cassie went downstairs and found a woman frying smoked meat over the stove. She was happily humming as she flipped the pieces in the pan. Cassie recognized it as one of the hymns she would sing at church when she’d go with her mother.
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting anyone in here,” Cassie said, backing out of the small kitchen.
The woman turned, startled that there was anyone there. “I didn’t hear you come down.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “You must be Cassandra.” She looked at Cassie from head to toe. “I must say that is a lovely dress.”
“Thank you.” Cassie wrinkled her brow. Max mentioned he had someone that dropped off meals during the week, but she thought he said it didn’t include the weekends. “Call me Cassie. Who are you?” The woman appeared to be around her father’s age, with hair the color of smoke that would blow from the factories. Cassie could see silver threads running through the hair that was once very dark.
The woman was smiling and her whole face lit up in a series of wrinkles and creases. She had bright eyes that were crinkled at the corners as she took Cassie in.
“I’m Mrs. Brown. Max asked me to come over and help tend the meals and do some light housekeeping. I guess you’ll be staying with him for a while.”
“I guess,” Cassie didn’t want to say too much. Granted, Max managed to bring her father home yesterday, but that didn’t mean this was a long-term solution.
Mrs. Brown laughed and went back to frying the meat in the pan. The smell made Cassie’s mouth water.
“We don’t have much time, as church will start soon, but how about some eggs and salt pork for breakfast?”
“That… that would be lovely,” Cassie said.
“Max mentioned you liked tea, but we only have coffee this morning. Is that alright? Or would you prefer milk?”
“Coffee is fine. May I help you with something?” She didn’t want this woman waiting on her.
“No. I have almost everything done. Here is a cup of coffee. Milk is over there in the pitcher. Why don’t you have a seat at the table, and I’ll bring breakfast right out for you.”
“Thank you,” Cassie said, taking the cup. She blew on the hot liquid and headed to the table. “Where is Max?” she called to Mrs. Brown as she took a seat.
“I think he is looking for that cat of his.”
Cassie gave a little giggle. Mr. Gladstone certainly did get around. He spent the night curled up on the end of her bed, his purring providing comfort through the night, until he cried to be let out of the room early in the morning.
Max appeared a moment later with the cat under his arm. “How did you sleep?” he asked when he saw her. Mr. Gladstone wriggled, and Max placed him on the floor. Cassie could hear him running down the hallway.
“It is different than being in the city, that’s for sure. It was so quiet.”
“I remember it took me a whole month to get used to the night here.”
“I didn’t think it would be so dark.”
“The city has lights on all the time. Out here, it is like everything stops once the sun goes down.”
“That is just on this side of town,” Mrs. Brown said, placing a plate filled with scrambled eggs and a few pieces of fried meat in front of Cassie.
“What’s on the other side?” Cassie picked up a piece of the meat. It was cut in strips and had pepper on one side. She took a bite and moaned. “Oh my, this is good.”
“It is brined and smoked pig’s belly,” Max offered. “It can keep for long periods of time.”
Mrs. Brown returned with another plate and placed it in front of Max. “North of here is the old
mining town. It has most of the restaurants and saloons. The theater is also up there.”
“The theater? I’ve always wanted to go to the theater.”
“Are you joining us, Mrs. Brown?” Max asked.
“I need to make a few more eggs. You said there is one more person here?”
“Yes,” Max said. “Cassie’s father, Hal.”
“Let me do up our plates and I’ll be right back in.”
Max nodded. When Mrs. Brown retreated into the kitchen, Max looked at Cassie. “You look beautiful this morning.”
“Thank you,” Cassie replied. “It is wonderful how a bath can make you feel almost human again.”
“I can’t believe there was such a beautiful woman hiding under all that dirt.”
Cassie blushed. She hadn’t had anyone tell her she was beautiful before. It made it all the more special coming from Max.
Max dug into his eggs with gusto as Mrs. Brown returned with two more plates. Cassie took one of the plates and set it down next to her, while Mrs. Brown sat next to Max on the opposite side of the table.
Hal walked in and stopped short when he saw Mrs. Brown. “I didn’t realize we had company. I would have been down sooner.”
“Oh, I’m not company,” Mrs. Brown said. “I’m just here helping out. I made you breakfast,” she said, pointing to the plate.
Cassie watched her father rub his palms over his head, trying to flatten his hair. He pressed his hands down the front of his shirt and took a seat.
Hal turned his plate several times and then dug into his eggs. “Oh my,” he said. “These are really good. I can’t think when I had eggs last.”
“It was when Mrs. Graham brought those chickens home,” Cassie laughed.
“I think you are right. And she had to get rid of them because the silly rooster kept half the apartment building awake.”
“Did you live in the city, Mr. Stockton?” Mrs. Brown asked.
“Yes, we just moved from New York City.”
Cassie finished her breakfast as she listened to her father and Mrs. Brown exchange pleasantries. She learned that Mrs. Brown was a widow. Her husband was killed in the fire. She had been married for over twenty years and had no children. She started cooking for Max right after he arrived. And she was able to keep her father engaged in conversation without a negative word spilling from his lips.
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