"I don't know why not. One of the things some people don't like about cameras is their honesty."
"This one is an exception."
He shook his head. "Someone has sold you a bill of goods, Cady. I wish I knew who it was, so I could tell them how wrong they were."
"What do you mean, sold me a bill of goods?"
"Someone's convinced you you're not pretty when you are," he said.
She smirked. "I have a mirror on my dresser, Garrick."
"You need a better one." He grinned as he handed her the other package, hoping she would like what it held. "That's why I brought this."
Inside the second parcel lay a lovely silver-framed hand mirror. "Oh, this is beautiful. Too beautiful. I can't accept such an expensive gift." She tried to give it back.
Garrick refused to take it. "Of course you can. All you need to do is put it in your room. It wasn't that expensive."
"But it's silver."
"Silver-plate."
She studied it, loving the embossed, swirled design on the back. "All right. Thank you, Garrick. I don't know what else to say. It's very generous of you."
"Don't say anything. Just look in it every day until you see yourself as beautiful as I see you."
Heat flared in her cheeks. "You're teasing me now."
He leaned forward, his gaze direct and serious. "No, I'm not."
Cady averted her eyes, unsure how to take his comments and that penetrating look. Did he truly care for her? No man other than her father had ever given her a gift before, not counting Mortimer, and he simply meant to get something from her.
Garrick leaned back. "It's kind of you to teach Sam to read. I thought of him as the sort of gutter rat most hardcases are, but I've seen a different side of him lately."
"Yes, I felt the same way. Now that I know him better, I see a softness inside him he hides from the world."
"Too bad his employer isn't the same way."
Cady laughed. "There's nothing soft about Mortimer, inside or out."
"No. Where are he and Lach anyway? I assume they must be out of town for me to be allowed in like this."
"They're in Cranesville, thank heaven. The salon becomes an entirely different place when they're gone. Everyone is more relaxed, and you hear laughter for a change."
Alma hurried in. "Cady, I think I dropped a stitch." She held out knitting needles with yarn attached.
Cady took it. "Yes. See here where it appears different? Just tear it out to that point and redo it."
"Is Cady teaching you to knit?" Garrick asked.
"Yes. I'm making a shawl for Leda for Christmas." She spoke in a whisper.
"That's nice."
Cady laughed. "Shawls are about all I know how to knit."
"I need to get another ball of yarn," Alma said, scurrying off.
Garrick knew she meant to leave them alone and appreciated it. Sam wasn't the only one he was seeing other sides of today. "According to the way the sky looks, I'd say we'll be getting another storm soon. A more serious one this time."
"That's the way it is here in the mountains," she said, tossing another log on the fire. "It's certainly cold enough. How long do you think you'll stay in Wildcat Ridge, Garrick?"
His gaze wandered the room, noting antlers on the wall and a stuffed animal or bird here and there. It created the masculine feel of a hunting lodge, undoubtedly what Mortimer wanted to make customers comfortable. It made Cady's soft femininity all the more striking.
"I don't know," he said. "I feel a bit stymied about finding my sister. Discouraged, I suppose. Where do I go next? Am I wasting my time? I worry that I could travel around this big old country the rest of my life and not find her."
"I'm so sorry, Garrick. I wish I could help. I truly do."
He surprised her by reaching over and covering her hand with his where it lay in her lap. Her hands were so much smaller than his. And daintier.
"I know you would. You're a good woman. I've met few like you. Regina's lucky to have you as her sister," he added.
"Except that my sister doesn't have me. I'm not with her." Frustration filled her voice. "I worry sometimes how frightened she must feel all alone with strangers. Every night I pray she's with caring people and being well taken care of."
"I hope so too. When is Mortimer returning?"
"Well, we could hope he's having more problems at his mine and never comes back, but that's unlikely. So the answer is, probably Tuesday."
She spread out the paper wrapping from the mirror, smoothed out the creases, folded it and laid it on the table. Waste not want not, her mother used to say. "If only we knew for sure."
"Tell me, if you could leave here, where would you go?"
"Oh, Cranesville. I think that's where Mortimer has Regina."
"If that's true, why haven't you gone there?"
"Because I'd lose my job." Maybe even my life. "I'd have no money to live on until I find another position. I can't put Regina through that." She related how Mortimer retained most of her pay, giving her only a dollar each month.
"That's criminal. What does Regina look like? I wonder if I've seen her."
Her eyes lit up and she fished a folded paper out of her bag and handed it to him.
"She looks familiar. Did you draw this?"
"Yes."
"You're very good. When we get back to my wagon, I'm going to start searching the photographs I took in Cranesville. Maybe I'll find one of her."
"I'll help." Cady surged to her feet and tugged on his hand. "Come on. Let's go."
He stood. "I have too many to go through in one sitting, and it might not be a good idea to be seen together outside."
"Oh." Her shoulders slumped. "You're right."
"I'll tell you what, I'll bring some here."
"Excellent idea."
Garrick left, returning shortly with a box of images. They divided them up and began sorting them. The variety of expressions on Cady's face with each photograph fascinated him. She was a unique woman, a caring woman who taught her friends to read and knit and felt strongly about strangers in photographs.
Chapter Ten
She enjoyed the food and lively conversation but the question Garrick had asked about Regina—why haven't you gone there?—kept distracting her. What he would say if she told him of Mortimer's threat to have the little girl killed if Cady ever tried to leave Wildcat Ridge.
Over the next few days, it became commonplace to see Garrick at the salon and Rooster had taken over the place. Cady worried what Mortimer might do if he returned early and caught Garrick there. When she tried to talk to Sam about it, he said, "What that rotten little runt doesn't know won't hurt him."
After supper, the men played cards or threw darts while Cady worked with Leda on her reading and Alma played the piano. Although not the best musician, Cady liked hearing Alma play.
Fascinated by the way the keys moved under her fingers, Rooster jumped up on the bench and bapped at them until she laughed too hard to play.
Whenever Garrick came, Mae stayed in her room, even skipping meals. Franco had begun talking about summoning the doctor to examine her, and Cady did her best to talk him out of it. Any doubt she had about Mae being July had vanished over the past few days. She always made sure to take the girl something to eat.
"You know," she said this morning, "you wouldn't have to hide up here if you'd be honest with Garrick."
Mae whirled to look at her. "I haven't a notion what you mean."
Cady left her alone, feeling sad for her but thinking that her self-imposed imprisonment would work in Garrick's favor eventually. Mae couldn't keep on this way forever.
Sometimes Garrick and Cady took walks inside the building, from kitchen to dining room to sitting room to parlor to anteroom and back to the kitchen, up the stairs to the second floor down the halls and back to the kitchen.
"This building is so big, I bet we've walked half a mile in only one turn," Garrick said one day. "Did you ever get lost when you
first came?"
"Almost, but Mortimer always seemed to show up when I became confused
"Like a bad apple."
She chuckled. "Exactly."
"Tell me about your family, about growing up in Kansas. Did you have a happy childhood?"
"Happy enough until my parents fell ill. I took over the housekeeping and cooking. I had no time for friends anymore. That was after Regina came along. She was a surprise baby. Mother lost five in between."
"That must have been hard on her."
Garrick pulled out a chair at the table for Alma and one for her. Cady hadn't seen that kind of gentlemanly behavior since she left home.
"Yes. I'm afraid we made up for it a little by spoiling Regina."
"It's hard not to spoil children sometimes."
"What about your family? Where are they?"
He told her about his childhood in Nebraska Territory, leaving out the horror that had killed his family and turned his sister into a prostitute. That, he'd already told her.
"Would you still love July, knowing what she's done these last three years?"
"Of course. It wasn't her fault. She had no choice unless she killed herself and that's not the way to deal with a problem."
She stopped walking and gazed up at him. "You're a good man, Garrick. Not many men would feel that way."
"That's their loss. That reminds me, when do I get to meet Mae? Is she still ill?"
This was the question Cady had been dreading. How could she make him believe he'd simply missed seeing Mae each time he came?
"To tell the truth, Mae is very shy. She can deal with customers who know what they want and simply want to get to it. But you're not a customer. You're a gentleman she thinks might look differently at her and possibly censure her. She's not proud of how she earns her living. She had no choice about it and is sensitive about perceived judgements."
He said nothing for several moments then nodded. "I think I can understand that. So, she's avoiding me?"
"I think so. It's not unusual."
"That's too bad. I feel sorry for her. Just tell me this, how do you know she isn't hiding from me because she knows I'm her brother?"
Cady's heartbeat was a loud tattoo in her ears. She had to handle this right, without lying. "Because I asked her straight out if she was July, and she said no, that she had no brother."
"And you believe her." He said it as a statement, not a question.
"Yes, I believe her."
"All right. I'll accept that."
Somehow, she felt certain there was a for now left unsaid.
Garrick always left before the hour when customers might arrive. Other than when a festival or auction was going on in town, they received little business and then mostly on Fridays and Saturdays. It suited everyone fine, except that it meant empty pockets for the girls.
One evening, after the men's card game broke up, Cady found herself alone with Garrick in the parlor while the others migrated to the kitchen for a snack. She curled up on a sofa and he sat next to her, long legs outstretched and elbows on the back of the sofa. Cady picked up a piece of mending she'd started earlier.
"Do they ever talk about why they do this type of work?" he asked.
"The girls? Not because they want to, I know that. Once a woman's reputation is ruined, she has little recourse. Society sees to that."
"It's not right. I hate thinking of July in such a position. It makes me sad and angry."
Cady stuck her needle in the fabric she'd mended and set it aside. It ripped her up her heart to hear him talk that way when she could end his misery with the truth, a truth she'd promised not to share. "What would you wish for her?"
He glanced over. "I'd like to think she's married somewhere to a good man and has a dozen kids. But life has taught me to be a realist and the odds simply aren't in her favor."
"I guess I don't want to believe that such women never marry or find happiness because it would apply to me as well."
"You're nothing like the doves, Cady. One of these days, if it hasn't already happened, a man will be so stricken with your beauty and kindness that he falls head over heels for you. I have a feeling when it happens, it will hit you as a total surprise."
She laughed. "You are so silly. Let's go see what they've found to eat."
He followed her to the kitchen where they joined the others listening to Alma read a newly published novel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. The entire time, Garrick's constant gaze on her felt like a heavy blanket. She wished she could divine his thoughts. His feelings.
The hour had grown late before he left for his wagon.
"I think Garrick is quite taken with you," Franco said as soon as the door closed behind Garrick.
Cady had just finished with the dishes and put them away. "Don't be absurd. He comes here because he knows no one else in town."
Franco snorted at that. Alma and Sam had gone to their rooms. Only Leda and Franco remained.
"Cady, why can't you see that he likes you?" Leda asked.
She thought about it. "I think it scares me."
"Why? Most women would love it if some man looked at them the way he does you."
Cady gave a "what can I say" shrug. "I'm going to bed."
For a long time, she lay staring at the ceiling. Her room had been papered with yellow roses on a striped ecru background with little cherubs frolicking among them. A crack went from one corner of the ecru-painted ceiling to the center. She focused on that crack while she pondered Alma's question.
The reason for her fear likely came from the disappointment she knew she'd feel if she allowed herself to care about Garrick and he didn't return her sentiments or something else went wrong. How could she expect him to love a woman who worked in a whorehouse?
There, she'd said it as baldly as she could. She was ruined despite being a virgin. No man would want her. Besides, she was plain. The beauty she'd seen in Garrick's photo was merely a trick of the camera. Her mother had always regretted Cady's plainness. She'd wanted her to be beautiful and turn men's heads, so she could make a good marriage that would help the family. Perhaps it was just as well her mother hadn't lived to see her daughter end up a spinster.
The next night Garrick returned. Cady loved having him at the supper table, even with the rest of the household gathered around them. Without Mortimer and Lach, peace reigned in the salon.
"Henri…" Garrick wiped his mouth with his napkin. "This is the best meal I can remember ever eating. What do you call it?"
"Um, it is wonderful," Cady agreed.
Henri preened. "Is called beef bourguignon. I cook two days in wine to tenderize meat. Is good, eh?"
Franco laughed. "We already said that, Henri."
"Is more if you want," Henri said, gesturing to the stove.
"I'll take seconds." Garrick stood up and went to refill his bowl.
"Has anyone heard from Mortimer?" Cady asked, worried.
"No, and aren't we glad?" Sam refilled his wine glass. Henri had been teaching them about wine tasting, and Sam had developed a taste for the drink.
Cady put down her fork. "It makes me nervous not knowing where he is and what he's doing. How do we know he's not moving Regina somewhere we can't find her at this very moment?" On that thought, her appetite fizzled to a nub.
Sam lifted his glass to her. "I have a friend there. Lost his job, so he has plenty of time. He's watching the house for me. He'll keep me notified."
"Oh, thank goodness. Sam, I'm so grateful for you."
"That was good thinking on your part," Garrick complemented Sam.
Sam's neck and cheeks reddened, and he averted his gaze.
Leda and Mae scooted back from the table, putting their napkins beside their empty dishes.
"Oh, I'm so stuffed," Mae said.
"Me too." Sam chuckled and rubbed his belly.
Cady suspected he had put on weight, thanks to Henri's cooking. She could understand why. She had to forced herself not to overeat.
/> Henri began clearing the dishes and the girls got up to help."Chocolat soufflé for dessert," Henri said. "In half hour, with coffee. Oui?"
"Sounds excellent." Franco sat back and lit up a cigarette.
Garrick turned to Cady. "How about a walk to work off some of that excellent meal before dessert?"
She smiled. "I'd say that's a superb idea, but I should help clean up."
"Go, Cady," Leda said. "We have it handled."
"In that case, I'd love to go."
Garrick pulled out her chair and took her hand as they walked to the door.
"Don't be too long," Franco called after them. "We won't save you any dessert. And be careful. Take your gun."
Garrick saluted him. "Will do."
Outside, the air had grown colder, and clouds filled the sky. A storm threatened.
"Storm coming," Garrick said, putting an arm around her. "Are you warm enough?"
"Yes." She gazed up at him, noticing how handsome he looked in the twilight.
"Good. But I intend to keep my arm around you."
"Fine with me," she said, her voice filled with humor. "Garrick, you never told me what happened to July. Why you're searching for her."
"Long story," he said and began the tale, but Cady suspected he'd shortened the story. Perhaps he was tired of telling it.
"Enough about me. Tell me, have you thought what you'll do after you're reunited with Regina and free from Mortimer's clutches?"
"A little, but I try not to look too far ahead for fear my dreams won't materialize." She'd thought little about the future, her thoughts too caught up in the present. In truth, however, she had allowed herself to dream a bit of a future with a good, loving man, a warm house, Regina growing up strong and healthy and maybe, someday, babies.
Usually, when such dreams entered her head, she quickly squashed them. The disappointment that followed every time her hopes failed to materialize hurt too much.
"I know what you mean. I have some decisions to make too. Once I find July, I won't need to travel anymore. I can settle down."
"Do you think you'll go back to farming like your father did?"
"No. That lost its appeal long ago. I think I'll stick with photography but in a shop somewhere."
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