Silverton: Claims On The Heart by Karen Cogan Page B

would not get what he wanted. He would not scare Collin away from Kathleen; send him cringing away like a rat to his hole. Collin would take to carrying his pistol, and if he had to, he’d use it. Or die trying.
     
    
     
    In late afternoon, Martin came by the store, looking very dapper in a frock coat and soft gray vest. He doffed his fashionable bowler hat as he spotted Kathleen.
    She wiped her hands on her apron and was uncomfortably aware that it needed washing.
    Martin did not seem to notice. “I came to invite you to have supper with me.”
    Kathleen glanced at Papa, sure he had heard the conversation. “I don’t know. I usually make supper for my father.”
    Papa spoke up. “You go on ahead. I’ll warm up some stew. You’ve been working hard all day. It’ll do you good to get out.”
    “But Papa…”
    “Kathleen, I think you need to enjoy yourself after your hard work today.” Papa’s voice was firm.
    Kathleen could only think of Collin, but her father’s tone brooked no argument. Papa rarely pushed her to do anything against her will, but in this instance, the slight tightening of his mouth indicated he was vexed with her. Perhaps he saw something in Martin that she failed to see? Not wanting to displease him, she acquiesced. “If you’re sure.”
    “I’m sure.”
    She turned to Martin. “I accept your kind invitation. What time should I be ready?”
    “Is six thirty all right?”
    “That will be fine.”
    “I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” His tall frame disappeared down the street.
    Collin was injured while she enjoyed herself. Yet Vic had assured her Collin was mending. He had other friendships. Perhaps it was best that she have Martin as a friend, too. Papa seemed to think spending the evening out was just what she needed. But she would go by the boarding house tomorrow and see if Collin needed anything.
    Papa must have noticed her swift change of expression. “You thinking about Collin?”
    Kathleen roused from her musing and said, “I guess I was.”
    “I wouldn’t pity him too much, if I was you. A drifter like him probably keeps company with some pretty seedy characters. Likely it was a gambling debt that got him beat up.”
    Was Collin a gambler? A carouser? Her heart refused to believe it. Yet how well did she really know him? “You may be right. I’ll take him some soup tomorrow and see what I can find out.”
    Papa clucked his tongue. “You think he’ll tell you the truth?”
    She drew her shoulders straight, her backbone full of spunk. “He’d better. Or he won’t be seeing me again.”
    Papa patted her arm. “That’s my girl. I didn’t raise you to lose your head over any man.”
     
    
     
    Kathleen took Martin’s arm as they walked through a brisk wind towards the Grand Hotel.
    He cut a dashing figure in his black frock coat and bowler hat. He wore polished black boots that rose midway up his long legs. His sideburns were neatly trimmed and he smelled faintly of shaving cream.
    The chilly air brought warmth to her cheeks. Her full-skirted maroon dress and crinoline petticoat swished with every step. She had dressed wanting to show that although she might be a shopkeeper’s daughter, she knew how to keep sophisticated company.
    Martin had admired her velvet hat with a feathered plume.
    She had chosen it from a milliner in St. Louis especially to match her dress.
    ”You make a fetching picture and I’d like to have a photograph of you looking just as you do this night. In fact, there’s a man who’s just come to town to work for the newspaper. He takes photographs for the paper. He plans to make some extra money by offering his services to the people of the town, too. I’d like to have him do one of you if you’d allow it. I could get it framed and set it on my desk. We’ll get one for your father, too. I bet he’d like that.”
    Kathleen knew that he would. Yet she hesitated. It seemed too personal to have her photograph sitting on his