Cimarron Rose

by Nicole Foster

  “You need it more than I do.”

  “Thank you. I suppose it’s time for us to be on the stage.”

  “In a few minutes. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  Katlyn frowned a little. “Of course. Everyone is expecting a performance tonight. I can’t just—”

  “I didn’t mean the singing,” Jack said softly. He eyed her a moment. “Look, Kate, it’s none of my business, but why don’t you tell him who you are?”

  Katlyn couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d slapped her. “How—?”

  “Honey, I’ve been in every saloon from St. Louis to San Francisco. I saw your mother sing once. You look a lot like her, but you’re a mite young to be Penelope Rose.”

  “But—you never said a word. All this time. Why?”

  Jack shrugged. “I figured you had your reasons.” He flashed her a grin. “Besides, I’ve done my share of bending the truth in my time when I was in a tight spot.”

  “That, I can believe,” Katlyn said, shaking her head.

  Sobering, Jack touched her hand. “You’re giving up everything, Kate. Just be sure. Once you walk away, it’ll be damned hard to come back.”

  His gravity made Katlyn smile a little. It was so unlike Jack to take anything seriously. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel. “I’m not going to ask you how you know that. Only don’t go and ruin my image of you by becoming all earnest now. You’re already in danger of being too nice.”

  He didn’t press her. “Can’t have that. Well, sweetheart, since this is our last time together, let’s make it magic.”

  Grateful for his understanding, Katlyn took his arm and let Jack lead her into the saloon. She pasted a smile on her face and kept her head high, but she deliberately kept her eyes on the audience, not daring to seek out Case.

  He was there, she could feel his presence without seeing him. One look between them, though, and she couldn’t trust herself to contain the love and longing so precariously held in her heart.

  Somehow, by sheer will, she managed to get through her performance. Close to the end, feeling exhausted in both body and soul, she glanced to the back of the saloon and immediately locked gazes with Case.

  It had been inevitable, she supposed, and yet she was unprepared for how much it hurt.

  Taking refuge in the only sanctuary she had now, Katlyn began the song that she’d thought of as his from almost the first time she’d sung it for him, here in the saloon, just the two of them.

  “‘I wander lonely, lost,

  searching for what’s true

  afraid I’ll never know it,

  and then I look, and there is you

  beckoning me home.

  But when I reach out,

  there’s only longing,

  and truth I cannot doubt,

  for I am left alone again

  with only the dream of my heart.”’

  Case stood stiffly in his corner by the bar, not daring to make any move. If he did, he didn’t know if he could stop himself from striding up to the stage, sweeping her up into his arms, and carrying her off to his room to make love to her until she gave up any idea of leaving.

  As she poured out the bittersweet, haunting notes of the song, he had no doubt she was putting her heart into every word, giving it to him. Realizing that made it worse because he could never convince himself, no matter what he said, that her loving him was a lie.

  A thunderous applause rewarded Katlyn when she finished the song, but she seemed to barely acknowledge it. She took her eyes from his to give a brief thanks to the audience before hurrying from the stage and out of the saloon.

  Not bothering to consider how wise his action was, Case followed her, catching up with her just as she reached the front door.

  “Please,” she said, the tears she could no longer stop running down her cheeks. “Don’t ask me again. Please.”

  Case raised a hand, let it drop. “I don’t know what’s left to ask.”

  They stared at each other, the air between them vibrating with unspoken desires, unanswered need. Then, with a little cry, Katlyn flung herself into his arms just as Case reached for her.

  He kissed her hard and deeply; she met him equally, wanting his possession.

  As suddenly as she had come to him, Katlyn tore herself away. “I can’t. I—can’t. Goodbye, Case.”

  She whirled from him and jerked open the door, running out into the night.

  Case started after her then stopped. He didn’t know how to let her go. But after everything, he didn’t know any way to make her stay.

  Morning sunlight edged its way through the curtains, disturbing the shadows in the foyer, but Case didn’t bother to let in more of the light. He sat at the front desk, staring blindly at the book in front of him, trying to pretend he cared what the numbers meant.

  Finally he slammed the ledger shut and shoved it aside. He lit up another cheroot and sat back in his chair, closing his eyes. He felt like hell and knew it had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t slept and had spent a good part of the night with a bottle of whiskey.

  Drinking hadn’t made him forget, so he had given it up just before dawn and instead sat alone in his hotel, thinking how dead it was without Katlyn.

  He supposed he should be making plans to hire a new singer. But the idea of anyone taking Katlyn’s place roused a mix of anger and pain in him. Maybe when he’d gotten used to the idea of her leaving.

  Maybe in about a thousand years.

  “Mr. Durham?”

  At the tentative voice, Case jerked up, finding himself facing Bucky. The boy took a step backward, his expression saying clearly he didn’t know what to expect from Case this morning.

  Case stubbed out his cheroot and ran a hand through his hair. He cleared his throat twice. “What is it, Bucky?”

  “I—um, I brought the mail. I thought you might want it.” Bucky stepped up quickly to the desk and pushed the pile of letters at Case. “I got to get back to the stables now,” he said, and practically ran from the room.

  Absently flipping through the letters, Case thought he’d better attempt to clean himself up before he ran into any guests this morning. He was about to toss the mail aside and go upstairs when familiar handwriting caught his eye.

  After all these weeks…he’d nearly forgotten writing the letter to St. Louis. Now, he held the reply in his hand.

  And possibly the answers to the mystery of Katlyn McLain.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Case stared at the letter, not sure he wanted to open it. He should never have written his to begin with and what could he find out now that would change things?

  His hand poised to throw it aside. Before he completed the motion he ripped open the envelope, yanked out the two sheets of paper and quickly read them over.

  There was little he didn’t already know about Penelope Rose. Except the image of the woman painted by the words wasn’t Katlyn. It was the woman he’d expected when she first walked into his hotel in her yellow satin and face paint. Katlyn McLain had turned out to be someone completely different.

  Becoming impatient, he made to follow through on his first impulse to throw the letter away when one phrase leaped out at him.

  I don’t know whatever happened to her husband, if she ever had one, but her daughter is lovely, the image of Penelope.

  Her daughter…At first Case’s mind refused to accept the words. He’d made love to her and he’d been certain she was an innocent. He’d assumed she was experienced and she had never told him otherwise. But with every detail of their night together branded on his memory, he clearly remembered the moment he realized he was her first lover. Surely a man couldn’t make a mistake where a woman’s virtue was concerned.

  Could the companion she secreted away at the boardinghouse have been a child? Her child? Case rejected the idea before it had time to completely form.

  He sat staring at nothing for several minutes. Then sudden
ly it made sense. And he understood now that Katlyn had been deceiving him from the beginning.

  Case looked down in the letter crushed in his fist. Tossing it aside, he shoved back his chair and strode to the staircase, calling for Becky as he went.

  She came running, eyeing him with obvious uneasiness. “Yes, Mr. Durham?”

  “Find everyone and tell them I want to see them all in the dining room in fifteen minutes. We have a lot of work to do.”

  He was already halfway up the stairs, taking them two at time, when Becky called up to him, “But the stage isn’t coming for two more days and there’s no dinner show tonight since…Are the guests coming from around here?”

  “No guests,” Case said over his shoulder. “I want to get everything in order before I leave.”

  “You’re leaving, too?” Becky wailed.

  Case turned and smiled at her. “As soon as I can. I’m going to Las Vegas.”

  Katlyn looked out at the raindrops drizzling over the busy street and shivered. She’d been in Las Vegas for three weeks now and it had never seemed colder. Growing up in St. Louis, she was used to winter, but here, though it was certainly warmer, somehow even the slightest chill seemed to seep through to her bones. Sunshine failed to warm her and the days held no luster; the nights dragged by, long and cold and black.

  She admitted it was probably her mood rather than the weather that was bleak. Since she’d arrived, she’d felt listless, unable to focus on anything for long. She’d forced herself to do what she had to do and was grateful when she could sleep for a few hours and forget.

  Penelope, at least, had settled into the hospital and her new doctor appeared competent enough. He hadn’t said much about Penelope’s condition, however, but he’d spent a great deal of time talking with Penelope, examining her, and giving Katlyn reassurances that didn’t mean anything.

  Maybe working again would help. She had found a job singing at a small hotel, earning the position without making use of her mother’s name this time. It paid little, but enough to provide her room and board.

  Soon she would have to face the cost of her mother’s ongoing medical care. She’d saved enough to provide for Penelope through the winter. After that, she would have more decisions to make.

  But not now. Glancing at the clock, she saw she had time to visit her mother before she started work.

  She found Penelope sitting in a chair by the window, humming to herself. Her mother turned, smiling when she recognized Katlyn. “I hope you brought some sunshine, Katie. Maybe it’s my eyes, but I don’t think I’ve seen it grayer than today.”

  Katlyn kissed her mother’s cheek, surprised to hear Penelope actually talk about her eyesight without breaking down. Katlyn sat beside her. “How are you feeling, Mama?”

  “Well, I’m out of that bed, so I must be better,” Penelope said. “You know, Katie, I’ve been sitting here thinking. It’s not something I’ve done much of before, I’ll admit, but that nice young doctor from out East has helped me to realize a few things.”

  “Like what?” Katlyn asked, smiling a little at her mother’s rueful expression.

  “Ah, well, I had a long talk with him this morning. A charming man, I must say. So much more tactful than Frank Garrett ever was.” Penelope paused.

  She glanced at her pale hands and Katlyn had the impression her mother was groping with unfamiliar words. At last, Penelope looked up at her, tears in her eyes.

  “I’m not going back to singing, Katie. I know that now.” She held up her hand when Katlyn would have interrupted. “No, don’t say it’s not so. All these weeks, I’ve been pretending it would be all right. But I’ve known for a long time it wasn’t all right. I just…I just couldn’t face losing that life, everything I’ve worked for, the applause, the attention. I didn’t want to let go of everything. I just—couldn’t.”

  “I know, Mama,” Katlyn said softly. She took her mother’s hands in hers. “I understand. And I’m sorry. I wanted to believe it, too.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I was wrong, Katie,” Penelope said, squeezing Katlyn’s hands between hers. “And I was wrong to ask you to pretend, too.” She sighed. “I just don’t know what I will do now. I’ve never done anything but sing. Now…”

  “Don’t worry about that now. The doctor says you need to be here awhile longer. We have all the time we need to decide what we want to do. We’ll talk it over and when you’re feeling better, we’ll decide.”

  Penelope nodded and Katlyn hugged her tightly before reluctantly moving away. “I have to leave for work. But I’ll be back to see you later.”

  “A new job? So where is the St. Louis Songbird singing tonight?”

  “Not the St. Louis Songbird,” Katlyn said, settling her shawl around her shoulders. “Just plain Katlyn McLain.”

  “You’ve never been plain, darling.” Penelope reached out and took Katlyn’s hand. “I’m proud of you, Katie, for everything you’ve done. I should have told you so a long time ago.”

  Katlyn left the hospital holding her mother’s words close to her heart. At least, after everything, she had done something for her mother, and the thought made the future seem a little less bleak.

  “It’s going to be a full house, Miss McLain. Should be a fine night for you.”

  Katlyn smiled at the hotel manager before he bustled off to greet a group of new arrivals. She supposed it would be a fine night for the hotel, but for her, singing was now just a way to support herself and Penelope.

  Still, she put on a good face as she walked onto the stage and started her performance with a lively tune that had always been a favorite with the audiences at the St. Martin. After a few numbers, the audience warmed to her and she complied with several requests for favorite songs.

  It was nearly two hours later when she prepared to take a break after one final song that a voice from the back of the room stopped her cold.

  “I was hoping, Miss McLain, you would sing ‘Love’s a Wandering Stranger’ for me.”

  Katlyn felt the blood rush from her face, leaving her momentarily light-headed. He couldn’t be here—and yet when she looked in the direction of the voice of her dreams, Case stood there, looking back at her.

  Her heart pounding, Katlyn managed to walk to the piano and after a word with the piano player, took his place at the keyboard. Her fingers trembled as she placed them on the keys but the melody came easily because she had memorized it with her heart.

  For the first time that evening, her voice resonated with true emotion as she poured all of her longing and need into their song.

  When she finished, Katlyn ignored the enthusiastic applause and the attempt by the manager to catch her attention. She quickly left the stage at the same time Case strode toward the door.

  They stood just outside the saloon, oblivious to the noise and people milling around them. It had been nearly a month, and Katlyn wasn’t sure what to say to him. But he didn’t bother with any preliminary greetings.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Not here,” she said, glancing to the side. “I have a room close by. We can be alone there.”

  Quickly, half-afraid he would vanish as easily as he had appeared, Katlyn made an excuse to the manager, tossed her shawl over her shoulders and beckoned Case to follow her the few blocks to the boardinghouse.

  When he closed the door to her room behind them and turned to look at her, Katlyn curled her nails into her palms to resist the urge to throw herself into his arms and beg him to stay.

  She wished she could read something in his expression that would give her a clue for his sudden visit. But his face gave away nothing. He might have been interviewing a prospective employee for all the emotion he showed.

  “I—I didn’t expect to ever see you here,” she said at last. “Why…is something wrong?”

  “Yes, something is wrong.” Case moved closer to her until she only had to raise her hand to touch him. “You’re here and I want to know why. I want the truth this time. I know you’
re not Penelope Rose. You never have been.”

  “No.” She paused, then met his eyes squarely. “Penelope is my mother.”

  Case said nothing. He had guessed as much, but he wanted to hear her tell him why. It was so tempting, seeing her again, within a touch of being in his arms, to ignore everything between them and pull her to him where she belonged. But he had to resolve this, once and for all. Love without trust would ultimately destroy them.

  Despite the fear trembling inside her, Katlyn refused the temptation to walk away from him, put a more comfortable distance between them.

  “I lied to you because my mother is ill and I needed the work to pay for her care. She suggested I take her place and I did because I could make more money singing than I could doing anything else.” Waiting in vain for any response from him at all, Katlyn plunged ahead.

  “Only just today she released me from a promise she insisted I make when we first arrived in Cimarron, that I wouldn’t tell anyone she was sick. I don’t know if I can make you understand, but all she’s ever had is her reputation as the St. Louis Songbird. She’s survived because of her singing and she was terrified of losing that. She was alone except when she performed. And that supported both of us from the time I was born. I couldn’t take it from her. I just couldn’t. I owed her that much.”

  “And now?”

  “Now…” Katlyn shook her head. “Now, she’ll never sing again. She’s finally beginning to accept that. Maybe when she does, she can find something else to fill her life.”

  Case simply looked at her a moment. Then he released a long breath and stretched out his hand to lightly brush an errant curl from her cheek. “And what about you?”

  “Me? I—I don’t know.”

  “Are you going to spend the rest of your life pretending this is where you belong?”

  Katlyn shook her head. “I don’t belong anywhere now.”

  “You do,” Case said softly. “You belong at the St. Martin, with me.”

  “How can you say that, after all the lies? How can you believe that?”