The Dreammaker. Judith Stacy
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turned to Rudy. “Talk to your sister. Make her understand.”
He backed away. “I just came to drive the team and unload your things. You two can fight this out on your own.” Rudy disappeared out the door.
Kaitlin pushed more of her belongings into the bureau drawer. “Nothing will go wrong.”
“Kaitlin, listen to reason.” Isabelle followed her across the room. “You don’t know this man. What if he’s a murderer? What if he was in prison? What if he’s one of those men who…takes advantage of women?”
Kaitlin stopped at the armoire. “Mr. Callihan hardly seems the type. But if it will make you feel better, when he gets here I’ll ask him if he’s ever killed anyone.”
Isabelle shook her head frantically. “Please, be serious about this.”
“Listen, Isabelle, if Mr. Callihan were a criminal, he certainly wouldn’t have showed up in Sheriff Newell’s office to claim Harvey Stutz’s belongings, now would he?”
“Well, maybe not.” Isabelle eyes narrowed. “But how do you know he won’t run off with your money like Harvey Stutz did? Hmm? How do you know that?”
Kaitlin shook out the pink skirt she pulled from the trunk and hung it in the armoire. Tripp Callihan could have run off with everything—cash and deed—the night he’d left her in the hotel, but he hadn’t.
“He seems like an honest man. He gave me his word, and I believed him.”
“His word?” Isabelle rolled her eyes. “And I suppose you shook hands, too?”
A hot rush crackled through Kaitlin at the memory of Tripp’s big, strong hand, closing over hers. It had sealed their deal in a way she hadn’t expected.
Kaitlin turned quickly to the armoire again. “Isabelle, you worry too much.”
“Of course I worry too much!” Isabelle wrung her hands together. “Think about what you’re doing. A partnership with a man you hardly know—a man you’ll be living with here in this store, all alone. Kaitlin, what will the townspeople think of you? Have you considered that?”
Her hands stilled on the blue blouse she pulled from her trunk. Color stung her cheeks, but she forced it down.
“Mr. Callihan and I are business partners. That’s all. The townspeople will just have to accept it. And once they’ve been in the store and seen what’s going on, no one will think any differently.”
“People talk, Kaitlin.”
“Well, let them talk.” She closed the trunk. “This is what I must do to get my money back. And if things go as planned, I won’t be in town long enough to care what anyone thinks.”
“Kaitlin, please, think this over.”
Reaching out, Kaitlin took her friend’s hands. “Stop worrying, Isabelle. Everything will be fine.”
Isabelle’s shoulders slumped. “All right. But if you need anything, you let me know. Rudy and I will come right over. It’s only a few hours’ drive.”
Kaitlin smiled. Isabelle had been her friend since they were just girls. They’d been through a great deal together. She didn’t know how she would have managed the trip to Porter—and a lot of other things—without her help.
Rudy stepped into the doorway of the bedroom. “We’d better go. Need anything else before we leave, Kaitlin?”
She gazed at the bedroom. Since Isabelle and Rudy had driven her to Porter this morning, they’d spent most of the day cleaning. Now, filled with her brass bed, bureau, mirror and armoire, the room looked a little more like home.
“No, Rudy, you’d better go if you want to get back before dark.” Kaitlin stretched up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for everything.”
Rudy ducked his head and grinned. “We’ll miss you.”
Kaitlin led the way through the kitchen—which they hadn’t touched yet—and out the back door. Across the little dirt alley stood a small barn and corral. Rudy’s wagon waited at the edge of the covered boardwalk.
“When is that Mr. Callihan supposed to get here?” Isabelle gazed down the alley, past the rear of the other businesses that faced Main Street.
“We agreed to meet here today. I’m sure he’s on his way.”
Isabelle’s eyes narrowed as if she doubted it.
“He’ll be here.” Kaitlin urged her toward the wagon and stepped back onto the boardwalk. “Goodbye. Thanks again.”
“Remember what I said,” Isabelle called as she settled into the wagon seat.
Rudy climbed aboard and tipped his hat as he headed the team down the alley. Kaitlin stood on the boardwalk, watching and waving until her friends disappeared from view.
After they were gone, she stood there a while longer. The town seemed suddenly quiet now, the breeze cooler. Clouds drifted over the afternoon sun turning everything a pale gray. Vague sounds from the street wafted through the air; somewhere, a dog barked.
Kaitlin glanced down the alley. Suddenly, she wished Tripp Callihan would get here. Odd, but it wasn’t like her to think such thoughts. She’d been alone for so long now, she was used to it.
No, she was just in a hurry to get the store ready, she decided. Kaitlin nodded confidently and brushed her hands together. Yes, that was the reason she was so anxious to see Tripp Callihan.
Kaitlin went inside the store and dumped the last of her clothing out of the carpetbag and onto the bed. As she sorted through them she heard the jangle of harness and the creak of a wagon out back.
Kaitlin hurried through the kitchen and opened the back door. High on the wagon seat sat Tripp, his black Stetson pulled low on his forehead, his shoulders straight, his hands holding the team steady.
“You came,” Kaitlin said, stepping outside. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”
He set the brake and tied off the reins, then jumped to the ground and stretched his long legs. “I gave you my word, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.” Kaitlin waved at the back of his wagon, loaded with furniture and crates. “I can see that now.”
Tripp reached into the wagon just behind the seat and a child sat up. The little boy yawned and ground his fists into his eyes, then raised his arms to Tripp. He lifted him from the wagon and set him on the boardwalk.
Kaitlin stared at the dark-haired child dressed in black suspendered pants and a rumpled white shirt. Finally she looked up at Tripp.
He glowered at her from beneath the brim of his hat.
“He’s my son.”
She’d expected most anything from Tripp Callihan—a change in the terms of their deal, not showing up at all, actually turning out to be a convicted murder. But a child?
Kaitlin knelt in front of the boy. He was a beautiful child. Black hair, like Tripp’s. Deep-blue eyes, the same hue as his father’s. The family resemblance hidden in the boy’s soft face made Tripp’s features harder, sharper.
Kaitlin glanced up at him, towering over them both. He looked big, powerful, masculine. That strong chin and straight nose, those intelligent eyes would be the child’s someday. It was only a matter of time.
She smiled at the boy as he rubbed his eyes again. “What’s your name?”
He latched on to Tripp’s trouser leg and looked up at him.
“This