Mistletoe Courtship (9 page)

“What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who neglected to buy her a dress before leaving Helena. Besides, don't they have some ready-made dresses at the mercantile?”

“Not many. Most of their dresses are for women. Usually mothers make the dresses for their daughters.” Virginia hesitated. “I think every woman around can sew well enough to make a girl's dress, except for me.”

Colter knew Virginia was trying to tell him something important. Her whole body was tense as though she was expecting some reaction from him. “I don't see what it matters if other women know how to sew,” he said.

Virginia glared at him. “Of course, it matters. How's a mother supposed to clothe her children if she doesn't sew?”

“Didn't we buy a shirt at the mercantile for Danny?”

“That's not the point,” Virginia said after a pause.

“What is the point?”

“I can't sew!”

Virginia looked like she was on the verge of tears, but the dog must have heard the cat outside because he'd raced to the door, a low growl in his throat.

“Stand away from the window,” Colter ordered Virginia. It might not be the cat and no one else would be at his back door before dawn unless they were up to mischief.

He gripped the butt of his gun at the same time Virginia whispered, “Your hand.”

Colter looked over to see she'd moved closer to the cupboards and wasn't visible from the window. Then he walked to the door and gently opened it.

The dog shot outside before Colter could even see the cat. He heard a furious meow though so he figured that as the end of it. He turned to go back inside when he glanced over and saw that the dog had run right past the cat and headed over to the back of Lester's saloon. There in the snow was a red kerosene can. The dog gave a triumphant bark when he stood guard over the can at Lester's back door.

“Good dog,” Colter said as he started over to the other man's saloon. He wanted to know what the man had to say for himself now.

C
olter headed back to his place within minutes, his gun holstered and the skin on the palm of his hand tight and painful from straining against the cloth Virginia had wrapped around it. The dog followed at his heels, looking as defeated as Colter felt.

“What happened?” Virginia asked when he stepped into the workroom. He saw that the spill on the floor had been wiped up and another pot of coffee was on the cookstove.

“Lester says the kerosene can isn't his,” Colter admitted.

“Of course, it's not his—I mean, not if you're thinking it's the kerosene can from the fire. What possible reason would he have to harm me?”

“From what you told me, he probably didn't know you were in the saloon at the time.” Colter walked over to a stool by the cupboard and sat down. “I smelled the can's spout and the odor was strong. That can was full not too long ago and now it's empty. Who else would have used so much kerosene in the past day or two?”

“Yes, but still—”

“I know,” Colter acknowledged. “Not even Lester would be
fool enough to drag that can out there and leave prints in the snow going to and from his own back door. That's what I can't figure out.”

“Someone just wanted you to think it was Lester,” Virginia suggested.

Colter nodded. “Could be.”

Then he looked at her. It pained him to see her defend the other man. Loose strands of blond hair fell from the bun she had on top of her head. And her skin put him in mind of pearls, all white and pink. “We need to ask at the boardinghouse and see about a room for you.”

“First, let me look at your hand,” she said. “You probably worked that bandage loose with all of your moving around.”

Colter figured it must be the Bible reading he'd been doing of late. He'd turned poetic. That had to be it, because all he could think of was that the ointment she used smelled like spring grass. He figured he'd remember her standing in the morning sun like this with her brow furrowed with worry as long as he lived. He'd heard an old man once talk about how he could remember the exact color of the dress his wife had been wearing when he first met her. This morning would be that memory for him. He was trying to think of the words to tell Virginia all of this, when Danny walked into the workroom.

At first the boy was sleepy and then he was wide-awake. “We've got a dog!”

“It's the same one that was here yesterday morning chasing that cat,” Colter told him. He didn't want him to think he'd gone out in search of a dog, as if they needed a dog or anything.

That fact didn't seem to dim Danny's enthusiasm. He knelt down and wrapped his arms around the gray dog. The old mutt lifted his eyes to Colter, although whether for rescue or forgiveness he couldn't tell. Colter figured it was the latter when the
dog moved in closer to the boy and settled in like he was planning to stay.

“You'll have to feed him.” Colter decided he might as well give up any claim to the dog gracefully. “That way he'll know who his master is.”

Danny nodded. “He likes roast beef.”

“You've already been feeding him?”

“He was hungry.”

“We'll talk about what to feed the dog after we have breakfast,” Colter said. “So why don't you bring out that slab of bacon that's hanging in the storeroom. We're all hungry by now.”

“I'll get Patricia,” Virginia said as she stepped toward the door leading to the main room. When she got to the door, she glanced back. “But wait to cut the bacon until I can do it. You shouldn't be using knives with your hand the way it is, anyway.”

Colter nodded as she slipped out of the room. He liked having someone worry over him.

 

She just needed a moment to think, Virginia told herself as she stopped on the other side of the door. The big black circle in the middle of the floor reminded her that this whole building could have burned down and her with it. As Colter had been talking, she remembered that Petey and some of the other men had taken to sleeping behind the bar in Lester's saloon. They boasted that he couldn't see them and he had no idea they were enjoying the warmth of his establishment long after he'd gone to bed. She wondered if one of the men had found the kerosene can. Maybe they even knew who had started the fire.

She didn't get a chance to walk over to the stairs before Patricia came out of her bedroom.

“Look,” the girl demanded as she stood on the top landing,
pointing at the bird pin on the collar of the shirt she was wearing—Danny's old shirt.

“You have to come closer so I can see,” Virginia said and the girl obligingly started down the stairs.

“It's a singing bird,” Patricia said as she reached the bottom. “I didn't see it right off, but see its beak? It's singing. It loves music just like me.”

“Why, yes, it does,” Virginia agreed in satisfaction. This must be how it would feel to teach in that school down in Denver. To awaken young people to an appreciation of music would make a worthwhile life for her. “Don't forget we have a lesson this afternoon.”

“On the bells?”

“You need to start on the piano, that's what Colter—I mean, your father requested.”

Virginia noted the surprise on the girl's face. She had probably not heard anyone call Colter her father until now. Besides, as far as Patricia was concerned, he was just someone temporary in her life until her mother came for her.

“But couldn't I just do something with the bells?” Patricia asked.

“The Wells girls are coming over to practice them later this afternoon. Maybe you can ring one of the bells with us.”

The deepest bell didn't have to be rung very often and Patricia would probably enjoy that one because it had the most sliding echo to it.

The girl beamed.

“But first we need to cook breakfast,” Virginia said as she led the way to the workroom.

Virginia told herself that she might not be as good a cook as Colter, but at least she had the use of both of her hands.

She looked around as she entered the other room. Danny had set the bacon on the counter and Colter had pulled the butcher
knife down from the shelf. He was obviously considering how to go about slicing off some of it.

“I can do that.” Virginia walked over to the cupboard.

“Thanks. I should be able to do it, but—” Colter apologized.

“There's no shame in being wounded,” Virginia said as she took up the knife and started slicing the meat.

Patricia, meanwhile, was standing in the middle of the room, studying Colter. “Are you Danny's father, too?”

Virginia turned around and noticed Danny stop patting his new dog. The boy looked up with a flash of longing on his face and then bowed his head down again.

“I just do the dishes,” Danny mumbled.

“You do more than just the dishes,” Virginia said indignantly as she set down the knife and put her hands on her hips. Then she realized she'd said that wrong. Danny was still looking down and she could see his misery from here. “I mean who you are is more than just someone who does the dishes.”

There was a moment's silence and then Colter cleared his throat.

“I should have said it earlier,” he said. He looked a little awkward and that melted Virginia's heart. “But I'd be honored to call you my son.”

Virginia blinked back a tear.

Danny lifted his head and nodded shyly. “I'll work hard.”

“It's not about the working,” Colter said firmly. “You're my son, no matter what.”

Patricia furrowed up her face where she stood. “He doesn't have to be my brother, does he?”

“Well, now,” Colter said, his voice low and easy, “I'd say that's up to the two of you. I figure you might like to be kin though. I never had a brother or a sister and there were many times I wished I had someone on my side who claimed me as family.”

Neither Patricia or Danny said anything, but at least they weren't scowling at each other.

“I had a brother,” Virginia offered as she slid the bacon slices into a cast-iron skillet. “And I'd be happy if I could sit down and talk with him today. I never appreciated him as much as I should have when he was alive.”

Virginia took the skillet over to the hot cookstove and set it down. “Now for some eggs.”

Colter went out to the other room to put the plates on one of the tables for breakfast. Virginia had told him where to find the cloth she used to cover the table and he brought that out from behind the bar. He got it a little crooked because he just had the use of the one hand, but he knew it didn't matter. She'd also suggested napkins and he pulled four of those out as well. If it had been growing season outside, he'd be half a mind to go pick a rose or two from the bushes that the last owner had planted behind the saloon.

Colter liked setting the places for four people. His family.

Before he knew it, Virginia was bringing a platter of fried eggs and bacon through the door. The two children followed her, one carrying a plate of biscuits and the other a crock of butter.

“Elizabeth Hargrove made the biscuits,” Virginia said as she set the eggs and bacon on the table. “And the butter, too.”

“Everything smells good,” Colter said.

They were all seated, faces scrubbed and hands clean, when Colter asked if everyone would bow their head so he could pray. “Our Father, thank You for these provisions and the hands who have prepared them. Protect us today. In Jesus' name. Amen.”

Colter didn't think he could grow more contented. He felt like a true father when he could put food on the table and lead his children in a prayer of thanks for it.

 

Virginia dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. Her words had been going around in her mind since she'd spoken them earlier this morning. If one of the men next door did know something about the kerosene can, she needed to find out what it was. After all, she had been responsible for Colter's building when the fire was set.

“I can go get Petey when we're finished,” Virginia said as she picked up her last piece of biscuit. “He said he'd help with the floor.”

Colter nodded. “I'm happy to pay any of the men next door to come over and work—as long as they're sober anyways.”

“Of course, they're sober,” Virginia rebuked him. “It's not even nine o'clock.”

Colter raised an eyebrow at her statement, but he didn't contradict her. It reminded her that she knew better though. She hadn't even considered that the man who had dragged the kerosene can out in back of Lester's saloon might not have been sober when he did it. She knew she wouldn't rest easy until she solved the mystery of the fire. She had told Colter that she was sure Lester would never do anything like that, but little things were coming to mind. Times when he wasn't the man she thought he was. She knew he was worried about his sister so she didn't want to judge his recent behavior severely, but what if he were the kind of man who could attempt burning down his competitor's establishment?

The good thing about asking Petey and his friends to come over and work on the floor was that she could pose her questions subtly without raising anyone's suspicions.

“I'll go next door and ask them for you,” Colter offered as he stood up from the table. “I'd worry about you going into a saloon alone.”

“What do you mean? I worked in a saloon and I was fine.”

“Yeah, but that was my saloon and I was here all the time.”

Virginia would have protested, but she suddenly realized that the men would be more likely to come if Colter asked them. She didn't really care how the men got to be here, she just wanted a chance to talk with them, especially Petey.

“After I get back, we can all head down to the store,” Colter said. “It'll take a while for the men to get themselves in shape to work.”

“And the mail,” Patricia spoke up. She had been quietly finishing her eggs. “I want to check to see if I have a letter from my mother.”

Virginia saw Colter's lips tighten, but he didn't say what he was thinking.

“That's not a problem,” he said instead. “We can check on the way to the store. The stage office handles the mail.”

“My mother.” Patricia turned to Danny. “She promised to write to me.”

Danny just nodded. Virginia thought perhaps he was so awestruck at acquiring a father and a dog today that he wasn't too concerned about not having a mother.

 

The smells were what Virginia liked best about the mercantile and she took a deep breath as she stepped across the doorway. Patricia and Danny had gone in ahead of her and Colter was following. The shelves at the back of the store held spices and teas from distant places. On the left side of the counter in front of the shelves was a tobacco cutter. Bolts of calico and unbleached muslin were arranged on a table on the right-hand side of the room. Another shelf to the side of the counter contained face powders and hand mirrors.