Silverton: Claims On The Heart Read Free Page B

like, for free, since you helped me. Just ask for Polly.” She studied the pattern on his cuff, not meeting his eyes.
    Collin tipped his hat as he stepped away from her. Kathleen’s upturned face flashed through his mind. Even with no money involved, he knew he would not be taking up Polly’s offer. “Thanks, Polly, but I was glad to be of help.”
    She nodded and limped inside, closing the door behind her.
     
    
     
    When her father returned to the store that afternoon, he was beaming with good news. “Kathleen, my girl, I’ve found us a house. It’s small, but it has two bedrooms, a kitchen, and even a little parlor. The bank repossessed it from a miner who struck it rich, spent it all, and then got sick and had to leave town.”
    “The poor man.”
    Why did Collin McAllister come to mind when her father spoke? That well-muscled body, handsome face, the light in his green eyes as he tried on hats, his wavy dark hair resting just below the brim, had made quite the picture. If he stayed in the mining business long enough, he, too, might grow thin and ill. He had seemed such a gentleman, compassionate and gentle as he’d helped the fallen woman to her feet.
    “Well, wouldn’t you like to see it?” her father asked. He produced a key.
    “It’s ours already? We can move in?”
    “Yes, to both. I signed a lease with the bank. We move in tonight.”
    “Does it have furniture?”
    “It does, though the table is a bit rickety and only one bedroom is furnished. I’ll have to order another bed from the town carpenter.”
    Kathleen grabbed her bonnet and pulled it over her dark hair. “I can’t wait to see it.”
    Her father grabbed a few supplies and held out his arm to his daughter. “Can you watch the store?” he asked Vic. “I’ve just found a house on Reese Street very close to the church.”
    “Be glad to.”
    They walked down Green Street, turned the corner to Reese Street, and her father stopped at a little square house not far from the church. It was boxy and the whitewash was fading. But it meant rescue from the dark and dirty shelter above the store. This would be her house to clean and improve, to sew curtains for the windows, and plant flowers in the garden. She would make it home for both of them, and she would not think of the home she had left behind. Life in these circumstances would be as comfortable as she could possibly make it for her father and herself.
    The yard was filled with native grass and blue and pink flowers that reminded her of snapdragons.
    They climbed the two concrete steps.
    Her father turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door.
    The stale odor of mice, soot, and dust greeted them. The wood plank floor groaned in protest under their feet.
    Improvements were needed, especially a broom and lots of lye soap, all of which she could get from the store. Once the floor was clean, a few colorful coiled rugs would brighten the room.
    Her father lit a lamp.
    The kitchen had a sturdy black stove, dirty, but usable, a large wash basin for the dishes, a wooden table and two chairs. Two rows of shelves lined the walls, along with several hooks.
    “What do you think?” he asked.
    “With a little work, we can make this a comfortable place.” She laughed. “I should see the bedrooms before I get too confident, though.”
    Her room contained a bed and small wardrobe. The bed was stripped bare of sheets, leaving only the stuffed straw mattress. Kathleen eyed it doubtfully. “Do you think it’s clean?”
    “It would be a simple matter to re-stuff it with clean straw. I could get you some tomorrow.”
    “Let’s see your room.”
    “Not much to see yet. It’s bare as bones.” He was right. The only things in his room were a few discarded tins of snuff. “It shouldn’t take long to get a bed frame made.”
    “I’ll get some material from the store and make your mattress when I do mine,” Kathleen said.
    “Once we’re settled in here, we’ll be snug and cozy this