The Dreammaker. Judith Stacy
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nearly kicked up her heels, but forced herself to lower her eyes. “You’re so kind.”
“Hold on a minute.” Tripp advanced on the sheriff. “I’ve got a claim on Stutz’s belongings, too.”
“For heaven’s sake, Callihan, can’t you see she’s his wife? And with a young’un on the way, too? What kind of a man are you, trying to take away from a widow and orphan?”
He flung his hand at Kaitlin. “What proof has she got?”
Sheriff Newell sucked his gum. “Well, you’ve got a good point there. How about it, Mrs. Stutz? You got a marriage license or something?”
Kaitlin pressed the handkerchief to her lips to hold in the curses burning her tongue. Darn that Tripp Callihan, he was ruining everything.
She clutched the handkerchief to her chest. “It was lost in the fire. Didn’t you know? No, of course you had no way of knowing. Our home—our little love nest, Harvey called it—burned to the ground right after he died.”
“Well, mercy ma’am, you’ve had your share of hardship, that’s for sure.”
Tripp snorted his disbelief. “Sheriff, you’re not going to fall for—”
“Hush up, Callihan. I’m the law in this town, and I say this here little lady deserves Harvey Stutz’s belongings. Besides, you’ve got no proof of your claim, either.” Sheriff Newell straightened his shoulders. “Believe me, if I thought for one second that she was lying, she’d be seeing the inside of my jail cells quick as a wink. Same goes for you, Callihan.”
Kaitlin gulped and pressed the handkerchief to her lips.
Sheriff Newell grunted. “Hell, maybe I ought to just give everything to the church.”
Tripp clamped his jaw shut and walked back to the corner.
“Now, let’s get this over with. I’m getting hungry for my supper. I don’t know what all the fuss is about, anyway. Harvey Stutz didn’t leave enough for anybody to be fighting over.” The sheriff pulled an envelope from the sack and handed it across the desk to Kaitlin. “There’s some money.”
Kaitlin’s heart lurched. “Cash?”
“Not much, but something to tide you over for a while.”
“Oh…”
“And a deed to some property over in Porter.”
Kaitlin eyed the envelope. “Property? What sort of property?”
The sheriff shook his head. “Don’t know. Didn’t look.”
“That’s all?”
“Well, yeah. Except for this.” He pulled a gold locket from the sack. “Looks like a family piece. I guess that’s what you’re looking for, huh? You don’t want those family things to get away.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Tripp tense as she took the locket from the sheriff. She ignored him. “It’s been passed down for generations. I want Little Harvey to have it when he gets grown.”
The sheriff dusted his hands together. “Well, that’s about it.”
Kaitlin felt Tripp’s hot gaze on her as she dropped the envelope and locket into the sack.
“Thank you for everything, Sheriff Newell. Goodbye.” Kaitlin headed for the door. Such a performance. Her mother would have been proud.
“Not so fast.” Sheriff Newell blocked her path. “There’s one more matter we need to get cleared up before you leave here.”
“A memorial service?”
“Yes, a memorial service.” Kaitlin pulled her wrapper closed over her chemise and pantalettes, and yanked the sash tight. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the eyelet curtains on the window, brightening the hotel room. “For my dear departed. The Sheriff thinks it’s what I want. It’s set for tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow!” Isabelle waved her arms wildly. “But we’re supposed to leave tonight! Tonight, Kaitlin, tonight! Miss Purtle will fire me if I’m not at work in her shop first thing tomorrow morning. She’ll fire me!”
“Don’t worry.” Kaitlin pulled the pins from her hair and shook her head, sending her thick tresses curling down her back. “You’ll leave this afternoon on the stage, just as we planned, and tomorrow after the service, I’ll leave too.”
“No, Kaitlin.” Isabelle shook her head frantically. “It’s dangerous. Somebody will figure out what you’re up to.”
Kaitlin dropped her hairpins on the washstand. “What else can I do? Tell the sheriff I don’t want a service for dear ol’ Harvey?”
“Let’s just sneak away. He probably wouldn’t recognize you, even if he saw you get on the stage.”
“And what if he does?” Kaitlin asked. She wouldn’t take the chance that the sheriff might give Stutz’s belongings to that Mr. Callihan, or turn it over to the church.
“Kaitlin, please, come with me—”
“No. It’s all settled. When you leave the hotel, pay for another night and asked them to send up a tray for me. I’ll stay here in the room until tomorrow and catch the midday stage after the service. What can go wrong?”
“A thousand things!”
Kaitlin picked up Isabelle’s carpetbag from the bed. “You’d better go before you miss the stage.”
Isabelle hesitated, then took the carpetbag. “All right. But you be careful.”
She opened the door. “I will. See you tomorrow.”
Kaitlin waved goodbye, then closed the door and turned the big metal key in the lock. She fell back against the wall, heaving a heavy sigh.
Darn that Harvey Stutz. Judging from what was in the sack the sheriff had given her, Harvey had spent nearly all of her money. Gambled it away, probably. But that deed to the property over in Porter might be promising, and the locket. If she sold them both, maybe she could get back the rest of her money.
Kaitlin’s spirits soared. Yes, she could get back her money—and her dream—after all.
A knock sounded at the door. Thank goodness the kitchen sent up her meal quickly. She was starved.
“Just leave the tray, please,” she called.
The knock sounded again, harder this time.
“You can leave the tray outside. Thank you.”
The pounding continued.
Kaitlin rolled her eyes. Good grief, was the kitchen help deaf?
Standing behind the door, she turned the key and opened it a crack. “I said, just leave—”
Tripp Callihan glared down at her.
“You’re a fraud and a liar, lady. And I can prove it.”
Kaitlin threw her weight against the door, but Tripp was too fast and too strong. He pushed it open, sending her flying backward across the bed.
“Who do you think you are!” Kaitlin sprang to her knees in the center of the soft, feather mattress, anger flushing her cheeks. “Get out of here!”
He slammed the door shut and strode in the center of the room, his legs braced wide apart. “I’m not going anywhere, lady, until I get what I came here for.”
She pushed her tangled hair over her shoulder. “I’ve got nothing that belongs to you!”