McShannon's Land, Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

She’d be damned if she’d let her past come back to haunt her. Not now, when she had a chance at a future.

“Put it right there, along the wall. Thanks, Riley.” The display case would be fine there, far enough from the window to keep the sun from fading the merchandise inside. A few more shelves to install, and Carter’s Millinery and Dry Goods would be ready for stock. Only two more days before she’d be open for business.

Out of long habit, Lorie’s eyes flickered to the people passing on the street outside the window behind her. There’d always be the risk of meeting a former client from Wallace Flats here in Denver, but how many of them would recognize her now? This Lorie Carter, in her tailored dove-gray suit and crisp white blouse, with her hair neatly twisted into a proper bun, had nothing in common with the Lorie Carter who’d sold herself at Neil Garrett’s saloon.

Liar.

After a more than a year in Denver, Lorie still couldn’t stop feeling like an imposter. She’d worked hard in Belle Harper’s store to learn the business, saved most of her salary to add to the money she’d brought with her from Wallace Flats – dirty money, most would say, but she’d damn well earned it. Now those days were behind her, but would she ever really leave them behind?

As she watched Riley and Jack place the display case, Lorie leaned her elbows on the counter next to the new, gleaming brass cash register and automatically ran her eyes over the newspaper in front of her. She hadn’t missed a paper since the day she’d read about Nathan’s shooting last summer. She’d made a flying trip to Wallace Flats to see him, then checked the paper daily with morbid fascination, dreading finding notice of his death, even though the doctor had said he was out of danger.

Nathan, with his cool gray eyes and don’t-give-a-damn smile. He’d challenged her and infuriated her, but he’d always treated her with respect. Lorie thought of that whenever her demons of self-doubt raised their ugly heads.

She liked to remember Nate the way he’d looked the last time they’d had breakfast together, the day she left Wallace Flats. He’d arrived in town in the spring pretty well pared down by rough living, but a few weeks of settled life and Mrs. Grant’s cooking had filled him out, and that day he’d looked better to Lorie’s eyes than any man she’d ever seen.

At first glance, Nate’s lean, well-proportioned body looked smaller than it really was. In spite of his missing arm, he gave the impression of balance and symmetry, marred only by his slight limp. He wore his dark blond hair a bit longer than a lot of men, and it suited him. It suited Lorie, too, made her fingers itch to slide through it. His broken nose lent an air of toughness to face that, in spite of years of hard times, still suggested his refined background.

She’d sat across from him at the boarding house that morning and wondered how she was going bear leaving him, but she’d done it. Lorie had no future in Wallace Flats, and she wouldn’t ruin Nate’s by ruining his reputation. She owed him too much for that.

“This okay, Miss Carter?”

Brought back to earth with a start, Lorie glanced up. The men stood by the display case, waiting for her approval.

“Yes, Riley, it looks good there. Why don’t you both go for lunch? I have some errands to run.”

He and Jack hurried out, leaving Lorie standing at the counter, her eyes on the newspaper, her mind following its own willful course. Nathan might not even be in Wallace Flats any longer. Perhaps he’d gone home, where he’d be welcomed as a veteran, a Southern boy come back to his own.

Especially by women. A chill settled in the pit of Lorie’s stomach at the thought. She’d walked out of his life, but she’d felt a little less lonely knowing he was only a day away by stage. Since she’d left Montana six years ago, she hadn’t met anyone else she’d call a real friend.
Dust tickled her nose. Lorie sneezed and tossed the paper down the counter. Instead of daydreaming, she’d be smart to step out and get some cleaning supplies. A lot of her stock would be arriving tomorrow, and the shelves lining the freshly-painted yellow walls were in no state to receive it.

Lorie had chosen her location carefully, far enough from the bars and brothels on the streets near Cherry Creek, but not too far out of the way. She locked the shop door and set off down the street, squinting a bit in the fierce July sun.

She saw him just as she came to the end of the block, a stocky, dark-haired man with a square jaw and hazel eyes very like her own. Eyes that made her stomach turn over. She stopped and stood rooted in place as he walked toward her.

Good Lord. Caleb. Here.

Even with the sun's harsh glare, she couldn’t be mistaken. She’d last seen him as a boy of sixteen, but this man resembled her father too much for there to be any doubt.

She hadn’t seen or heard from her older brother in ten years, but she was looking at him now.

She never wanted to see him again.

Two quick steps took her off the sidewalk and into a harness shop. From the shadow of a corner, Lorie watched Caleb walk by. He’d shown no sign of recognizing her, thank God. She stayed where she was until he vanished from sight and the shop owner came around his counter, wiping sweaty hands on his trousers. The sun pouring in the window made the small shop stifling.

“Something I can get for you, Miss?” Lorie blushed to the roots of her hair at the curious look on the man’s round, bespectacled face. “Miss, are you all right?”

“Y-yes. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry.” Before she could make a bigger fool of herself, Lorie nodded, left the shop and went on her way.

It had to be coincidence. She had no idea where Caleb had been for the last ten years, but she knew Denver was the kind of town that would draw him, especially the seedier sections. Perhaps he lived here now. There was no way he’d have come here looking for her.

She’d been twelve when he left home. He wouldn’t know her, and she was using a different name. All she had to do was go about her business, and he’d never be any the wiser.

She’d be damned if she’d let the past come back to haunt her now.
****
Nathan woke to the sound of angry muttering that rose to a shout as iron bars rattled. “The bastard locked us in. Nate, where the hell are you?”

Colin answered with a groan. “Bloody hell, Trey, don’t make such a racket.”

“Bloody hell is right,” Martin growled. “A fine friend to have, is that Nathan.”

“Friend!” Colin spat out the word as if it tasted foul. “What else could you expect from a Munroe?”

If he valued his hide, he’d better end his little joke quickly. Nate stretched, regretfully left the comfort of his bunk, poured cold water into the basin on his washstand and washed his face. His ‘guests’ must have heard him stirring, as they’d subsided for the moment. Nate dressed and stepped out to meet them with a broad smile.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Sleep well?”

The three of them didn’t have quite the same prosperous air today. Trey’s dark hair stood on end, and his face had a gray tinge under its tan. Dark smudges showed below Colin’s blue eyes, making him look his years. Martin was pale beneath his freckles, his hair was plastered to his head on one side and he held his shoulders as if he had a stiff neck. They all looked furious. Trey stalked to the cell door, glaring.

“What the hell were you playing at, Nate?”

“I was keeping the three of you out of trouble, that’s all. None of you were in any condition to drive home.”

“Yeah, thanks to you. You knew exactly how strong that ‘shine was, didn’t you? Now that you’ve had your fun, will you let us the hell out of here?”

“Of course.” Nathan reached for his keys. “Colin, I’m not going to charge you for disturbing the peace this time, but lay off the locals, all right? Trey, your wagon and team are over at the forge. Drive easy on the way home, and say hello to Beth and Rochelle for me.”

As Nate hoped, the reference to charges made Trey think past his temper. He knew well enough that Colin could have been hurt in that fight, and that Nate could have made things a lot more difficult if he’d wanted to. As he left the cell, Trey vented his disgust on his father.
I’m telling you this, Dad. You’re going to explain to Beth and Chelle why we didn’t come home last night, not me. We aren’t going to hear the end of this for the rest of the summer.”

Nathan stood at the office door and watched them trail across the square to John Reeves’ forge. John and Trey were good friends, and John’s wife Hannah would fortify them with coffee before sending them on their way. Nate grinned at the thought of the earful Trey would get from his outspoken little wife when he got home. Beth McShannon might be an Eastern lady from old Philadelphia stock, but her temper could be less than ladylike when occasion warranted.

Like Lorie. Tension knotted in Nate’s gut. How would she react when she saw him again? How would he react? Would he be able to find her? She might not even still be in Denver. A fool’s errand, but he didn’t consider changing his mind.

He didn’t have time for doubts and questions. He dropped by the boarding house for a quick breakfast, and found out that Frank Carswell was staying there and hadn’t yet left his room. According to Mrs. Grant, he’d returned late last night. Had he found out that Nate had lied to him?
Perhaps, but as far as Nate knew only he, Neil, the Reeves and the McShannons knew where Lorie had gone. She might have told one or two of the other girls at Neil’s, but knowing Lorie, Nate doubted it. After a quick visit to Frank Baker at the mercantile to arrange for him to act as deputy in Nate’s absence, he packed a few things in a bedroll and saddled up. He’d camp on the road tonight and arrive in Denver tomorrow.

If Lorie hadn’t moved on, she’d be keeping a low profile. Looking for her would likely be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but if she was in Denver, he’d find her. Nate told himself that he just wanted to warn her that her father was on her trail, but he wasn’t fooled.
He wanted to see her again, to put the voice in his dreams to rest once and for all.