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“McCain.”
She nodded, then released a pent-up sigh. “You’d never know it, but Silas’s father is the minister.”
“No, ma’am. You’re right. I would have expected his father to be the town drunkard. Or maybe to hear that he’d been locked up in jail for the past ten years.”
She clucked her tongue. “Silas has a mean, spiteful side to him that his parents refuse to see. I taught school here in Pleasant Valley up until last summer and watched that boy bully the other children many a time.” She bit down on her bottom lip, as if she might be wondering if she’d shared too much with a stranger.
Her hands rested on the little girl’s shoulders in a loving, protective manner.
Satisfied that the child was in good hands, Tom doffed his hat. “Good day, Miss O’Malley.”
Then he urged the gelding across the street and on to the sheriff’s office, where he planned to ask a couple of questions and get directions to a place known as the Gardener’s House.
He might look like an uneducated half-breed, but he knew better than to ask a lady where he could find the town brothel.
* * *
Katie O’Malley held on to Sarah Jane’s shoulders as she watched the dark-haired stranger ride away.
The man was frightfully handsome, with eyes the color of fine bourbon, high cheekbones and a square-cut chin. His copper-colored skin suggested he might have a mixed-Indian heritage. And for the first time in her life, she found herself more than a little awestruck by a man’s appearance, especially one who spent his days in a saddle.
Mr. McCain wasn’t the type of man she usually had reason to talk to—or the type she should find the least bit attractive. Yet she did.
She supposed that was because he’d come to her rescue, even though she hadn’t needed him to. She did, however, appreciate the gallant way he’d made the gesture.
He’d studied her in a curious way, which had caused her pause. Then he’d simply said, “Good day,” turned his mount and headed down the street.
She wondered what business he had in town. Unable to quell her curiosity, she watched him go until he stopped at the sheriff’s office, where he left his big bay gelding tied out in front.
When he was finally out of sight, Katie returned her attention to the disheveled little girl.
“What are you doing in town all by yourself?” Katie asked.
“Blossom gave me a penny, and I wanted to buy a peppermint stick. I was going to wait for someone to take me to the mercantile, but then Sweet Heather told me to go outside and stay out of the way.”
“Where’s Daisy?”
“She wasn’t feeling good, so she went to take a nap. But she’s probably in the kitchen now. It’s her turn to cook dinner.”
Katie pulled a lace-edged handkerchief from her reticule and placed it on the little girl’s small, bloodied lip, gently dabbing at the wound. She’d championed many causes in the past, but none had touched her heart as deeply as Sarah Jane Potts.
It was time once again to talk to Daisy and insist that the woman either agree to leave with Katie for Wyoming next week or that she allow Sarah Jane to go without her.
After adjusting the ribbons in the little girl’s hair, Katie took her by the hand. “Come on, honey. I’ll walk you home.”
While they made their way to the brothel at the far edge of town, they talked about important things, like why dogs chased cats and why staring into the sun made a person sneeze.
It hadn’t taken many chance visits with Sarah Jane for Katie to realize that she was an absolute delight, and the more time she spent with the charming child, the more she longed to rescue her.
As they stepped off the boardwalk and ventured to the outskirts of town, past several lots that were overgrown with weeds and littered with debris, they made their way to the green-and-white three-story structure that served as a brothel. People referred to it as the Gardener’s House, a name that seemed fitting because of its park-like grounds, manicured lawn and rows of marigolds leading to a wraparound porch.
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.”
Chapter Two
“I’m Daisy. What can I do for you?”
After Tom had talked to Sheriff Droeger and had his suspicions confirmed, he’d learned that a child named Sarah Jane and a woman now going by the name of Daisy Potts had moved into the Gardener’s House a few months ago. Because the sheriff said Daisy did most of the cooking and cleaning at the brothel, Tom had decided to bypass the front door and use the rear entrance.
He hadn’t been surprised when Daisy answered his knock, but the red-haired schoolmarm standing in the kitchen like she owned the place knocked him completely off stride.
Of course, Miss O’Malley appeared to be more than a little surprised by his arrival, too.
“I’m afraid I need to leave now,” she told Daisy. “But I’ll be back on Saturday morning. We can talk about our trip to Wyoming then.”
Tom had no idea what the two women planned to do in the Wyoming territory, but they wouldn’t be taking Sarah Jane with them until he was convinced that she wasn’t Caroline’s daughter.
If he had reason to believe the girl was Caroline’s child, she was going with him to Stillwater, where she belonged.
Of course, that was assuming that Harrison Graves had really softened and would actually claim an illegitimate child as his heir. And, to be honest, Tom had his doubts.
Miss O’Malley glanced his way one more time, her eyes as blue as the Texas sky.
She was a pretty one; that was a fact. And judging by the starched cotton blouse she wore buttoned to her chin, she didn’t belong in the same room with one of the women who worked at the Gardener’s House and, according to the sheriff, went by flower names.
She watched him doe-eyed, like a fawn sighting a man from across a thicket, curious yet ready to bolt at the slightest movement. Then she seemed to rally her courage.
“Good day,” she said, as stiff and proper as the schoolmarm she’d once been.
He gave her a slight nod as she pushed past him, then watched as she let herself out.
When the door snapped shut behind her, he returned his gaze to Daisy.
The fallen woman, who was attractive in her own right, appeared to be in her early twenties and about the same age as the schoolmarm. “How can I help you?” she asked again.
“I was sent by Harrison Graves to find his granddaughter, Caroline. And my search led me here.”
Daisy stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve been to Casa de Los Angelitos,” Tom said, “where you and Caroline met. And I followed her trail to several different towns in Texas, ending up in Taylorsville, where you both lived for the past year. You went by the name of Erin Kelly back then and worked as a cook at the restaurant until the owner went out of business. Caroline was a clerk at the hotel.”
Daisy drew back but didn’t deny it. Finally, she said, “If you’re looking for Caroline, she’s not here. She died a few months back.”
