Claiming the Cowboy's Heart (30 page)

If one didn’t know better, one would think that it was a respectable home owned by a wealthy family. But Katie knew better.

Her steps slowed as they neared the ornate wrought-iron gate, and her hold on the child’s hand tightened. She took a quick scan of her surroundings, hoping to avoid being seen by a witness prone to gossip. As it was, her welcome in Pleasant Valley had worn thin, thanks in large part to the newspaper articles she wrote in favor of women’s rights. And she’d been hard-pressed to find many upstanding citizens willing to write the letters of recommendation she needed to provide the school board in Granville, a growing town in the Wyoming Territory desperate for a schoolteacher.

Sarah Jane tugged at Katie’s hand. “Come on. Daisy made a swing for me in the backyard. I want you to see it.”

The child led Katie around to the rear of the house and pointed to an elm tree where two lengths of rope and a wooden slat hung from a sturdy branch.

“See?” Sarah Jane said. “Want to watch me swing?”

“Not yet. I’d like to talk to Daisy first.”

The sooner she could speak to the fallen dove and get back to a more respectable part of town, the better.

“Let’s see if she’s in the kitchen,” Sarah Jane said.

As they climbed the steps to the rear entrance, Katie’s heart began to pound.

Fortunately, after Sarah Jane opened the door and entered the kitchen, they found Daisy seated at the big oak table, snapping green beans.

Daisy, a dark-haired woman with a fair complexion, first glanced at Katie, her big green eyes leery.

When she spotted Sarah Jane’s swollen lip, she gasped and scooted back her chair. Then she got to her feet and crossed the kitchen. As she reached the girl, she dropped to her knees. “What in the world happened, sweetie?”

“That big boy named Silas said mean things to me again. And this time he hurt me, but Katie made him stop.”

Daisy tensed, then brushed a wisp of hair from the child’s face. “Boys can be mean.”

They certainly could. While growing up, Katie had suffered a few taunts of her own. She knew what it felt like to be different from the other children, to be singled out in the classroom for not paying attention because she’d had her nose in a book when she was supposed to be drawing a map of Missouri. Or to be teased on the schoolyard because she’d never had a mother to teach her how to properly braid her curly red hair.

But those jeers, while hurtful and humiliating at times, were nothing in comparison to the ones Sarah Jane stood to face if she continued to live in Brighton Valley.

Daisy’s gaze lifted and met Katie’s. “Thank you for seeing her home.”

But her
home
is a
brothel,
Katie wanted to shout. She bit her tongue, instead, unwilling to offend the woman before she could convince her to see reason.

She couldn’t hold back her thoughts, though. Couldn’t Daisy see the damage she was doing to the little girl by having her live here?

Katie’s first impulse was to argue her case, which was a good one. But it wouldn’t do her a bit of good to speak her mind if she wanted to convince Daisy to sign over guardianship to her or to leave the brothel behind and move to Granville.

“I don’t think Sarah Jane should go outside without an adult present,” Katie said, minding her tone and choosing her words carefully.

“She isn’t allowed to go out alone.” Daisy cupped the child’s face. “You know better than that.”

“I’m a big girl now.” Sarah Jane stood tall, while a swollen, cut lip and traces of blood and dirt on her cheek mocked her self-confidence. “I’m
six.
Remember? I had my birthday when we lived at the other house with Mama.”

“You know the rules.” Daisy got back on her feet, then made her way to the sink, reached for a cloth and dipped it into a bowl of water. “Come here, sweetie. Let me wash your face.”

Katie watched the woman’s maternal motions, which demonstrated that she certainly cared about the child. Still, why had they moved into the brothel the very first day they’d arrived in town? Surely Daisy realized that no good could ever come of a decision like that.

“Wyoming is a beautiful territory,” Katie said, preparing to state her case one more time. “I’d love to take you and Sarah Jane with me. You could make a new start in a territory where women are treated with dignity and respect, where they’re considered equals. In fact, they even have the right to vote.”

They’d had this conversation before, with Daisy clearly struggling with the decision.

“A move to a new community is sorely tempting,” Daisy said.

“Think of the future Sarah Jane will have if she continues to live in a place like this.”

“I have.” Daisy bit down on her bottom lip. Then she placed a gentle, loving hand on the child’s head. “Sarah Jane, why don’t you go into our room and look in the closet. I hid a surprise for you there. It’s next to your mama’s carpetbag.”

When Sarah Jane dashed off to do as she was told, Daisy returned to her seat at the table and pushed the bowl of green beans aside. “Sarah Jane’s mother was like a sister to me. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for her. And I love Sarah Jane as if she were my own. After the funeral, when she and I left Taylorsville, we didn’t have a penny to our names. Please believe me when I say that I don’t plan to work here very long. I just need to earn enough money to repay a debt. Then we can make a new start in a town far away from here, where people won’t know me.”

Now that she knew what had been causing Daisy to hesitate, Katie was finally able to formulate a convincing plan, thanks to the inheritance she’d invested wisely. “If you’ll leave with me, I’ll help you pay that debt. And I promise that you’ll find that new life you’re looking for in the Wyoming Territory.”

“That sounds promising, Miss O’Malley. But why would you do this for me? You don’t even know me. Pardon me for asking, but what are you? Some kind of church do-gooder, bent on saving my soul? You have no idea how many people have tried that, including Sarah Jane’s mother, but I’m afraid my soul is already lost.”

A smile tugged at Katie’s lips.

Daisy cocked her heard, clearly perplexed. “What’s so funny?”

“There are a few church do-gooders in town who think
I’m
the lost soul.”

“You?”
Daisy’s eyes widened, and she all but laughed.

“Actually, some of the townsfolk don’t like me speaking my mind about a lot of things, especially women’s equality. In fact, I’ve even had a few run-ins with the minister, who went so far as to complain to the Pleasant Valley school board, which resulted in my being replaced as the schoolteacher last fall.”

“They replaced you because you believe women should be allowed to vote?”

“Well, the good reverend also complained that I couldn’t control the children, although that wasn’t true. It was only his son who gave me trouble. And if I’d had the least bit of paternal support—” Katie bit back the rest of her angry retort and clucked her tongue. “Anyway, needless to say, it’s been nearly impossible for me to attend services on Sundays with a joyful heart. So I wouldn’t call myself a church do-gooder.”

Daisy arched a brow, fresh suspicion etched across her face, which was far prettier today without all the powder and paint she usually wore.

“It’s not that I don’t read my Bible or believe in God, it’s just that I…” Katie blew out a sigh, not sure how to explain herself—or why she even felt the need to. “You see, I’ve always been a champion of the downtrodden. And when I take up a cause, I’m rather outspoken about it.”

“I see. So Sarah Jane and I have become one of your
causes.
”

Katie wished she’d chosen different words. “I wouldn’t put it that way. It’s just that Sarah Jane is a bright, beautiful child. She deserves a better future. And, Daisy, so do
you.
You must be a smart, resourceful woman to have come so far on your own. But neither of you will get that if you stay in Pleasant Valley, even if you move out of the Gardener’s House and try to make it on your own. So I’m offering you both a way out. That is, if you’ll take a step of faith and go with me when I leave for Wyoming next week.”

Had Katie said too much, pushed too hard? She hoped not, but the words had come straight from her heart.

Daisy seemed to ponder her options for a moment, then said, “The debt is sixty dollars. I’ve already managed to save twenty-three. If you’re willing to pay off the balance for me, as well as provide traveling expenses, I’ll go with you to Wyoming. Then, as soon as I’m able to find work, I’ll begin to repay you.”

“You have yourself a deal.” Katie reached out her arm, and the two women shook hands.

Daisy glanced around the kitchen and smiled. “I’m actually a pretty good cook. Maybe I can find work at a restaurant in Wyoming.”

Before Katie could respond, a knock sounded at the back door, and her heart lurched, then railed against her chest wall as if trying to break free. The last thing she needed was to be seen by one of Daisy’s “callers.”

Katie didn’t usually put much stock in what others thought of her, but she had reason to be cautious now. Thanks to Reverend Codwell and a few other more conservative citizens of Pleasant Valley, she was running out of people to approach for those letters she needed for the school board, and she couldn’t show up in Granville empty-handed. So the instinct to escape was strong.

But unless she wanted to run through the brothel and go out the front, the only other possibility was the kitchen exit, which was now blocked.

Daisy crossed the room and swung open the door, revealing Mr. McCain, the handsome, dark-haired cowboy Katie and Sarah Jane had met on the street. His dark-eyed gaze snaked around her, nearly squeezing her heart right out of her.

Surely he didn’t think she belonged here, did he?

About the time she feared that he did, he turned and gazed at the fallen woman. “I’m looking for Daisy Potts.”

Copyright (c) 2014 by Judy Duarte

ISBN-13: 9781460324677

CLAIMING THE COWBOY’S HEART

Copyright (c) 2014 by Linda Ford

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

(r) and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with (r) are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com

***