Authors: Sarah McCarty
“How long have you been saving?”
“Eight days.”
He reached for the money, stopping just before he touched it.
“May I?”
She nodded. He deftly counted it.
He neatly stacked the bills and coins. “You earned this in
eight days?”
“Business started slow, but it’s picking up.”
He sat back in his chair. “May I ask what sort of business
you’ve invested in?”
His tone implied it must be unsavory. Maddie forced a smile. “I
opened a bakery.”
His whole demeanor changed. Leaning forward, he asked, “You’re
the one who made those cinnamon rolls my wife’s been buying?”
“I assume so.”
From across the room, Antonio spotted her and waved. When she
waved back, he held up his finger indicating she should wait. Mr. Laughton
watched the exchange. “You know Mr. Salinger?”
“I supply his restaurant with breads and desserts.”
“I see.”
Before she could say anything further, Antonio came over. Mr.
Laughton discreetly covered her money with his blotter. Antonio smiled at her
then Mr. Laughton. “I see you have met our own personal gold mine, yes? She
makes the bread the miners cannot pay enough for.” He released a kiss into the
air with an expressive motion of his hand.
“We were just talking business,” Laughton said.
Antonio patted her on the back. “This one has a good sense for
it. No frivolous girl, but a lioness. She will make us all rich.”
“You don’t say.”
“I do, but I came to make a request if I may interrupt.” He
looked to Maddie.
Maddie smiled. “Of course.”
“I would like to double our order for next weekend. The men are
taking the bread home. We run out too soon.”
“Of course.” She’d make more money if they bought directly from
her, but Antonio stayed open late on weekends and she did have to sleep. Maybe,
though, if the shop made a bit more profit, she could afford help.
“You can do this? It is not too much?”
“I can do this.”
“Good. Good. Lucia will be very happy.”
Maddie smiled, suddenly not feeling so out of place. “Please
give her my regards.”
“This I will do, now back to work I must go.”
As soon as he left, Maddie sighed and reached for her money. “I
need to go, too.”
Instead of handing her back her money, Mr. Laughton handed her
a signature card. “If you’ll just sign your husband’s name on that line—” he
tapped the middle of the card “—we’ll get you squared away.”
Startled, she looked up. “But...?”
He raised his brows at her. “Sometimes the rules are meant to
be bent.”
And right then she understood something else. Money opened
doors for her that would otherwise be closed. While she waited for Mr. Laughton
to fill out her receipt, she felt the first niggles of pride. She folded the
receipt carefully when he handed it to her, trying hard not to burst into
laughter. She was a businesswoman. She was providing for herself. She was
respectable. Standing, she held out her hand to the banker. As he took it she
said, “Good day, Mr. Laughton.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “And thank
you.”
* * *
T
HE
NEXT
WEEK
PASSED
in a blur of baking and preparation. The
hectic pace was only broken by a niggling sense of unease, as though someone was
watching, but whenever Maddie looked, she saw nothing out of place. No matter
what she did, she couldn’t shake the unease that just kept growing stronger and
stronger. She started going to the bank twice a day, too nervous to keep money
around the house. It made her feel better, but only a little. And as every day
passed, she grew more and more nervous about Caden’s return until she began to
connect the two.
The day he was scheduled to come back, she woke up in a sweat,
her mind racing, her pulse pounding, fear vibrating through her body. Lighting
the lamp, she immediately glanced toward the window, but there was only her own
reflection looking back at her. Lying back on the couch, she took a breath and
forced her muscles to relax. Caden had told her to stay put, but she wasn’t
where he’d left her. For that matter she wasn’t even
who
he’d left, and she didn’t kid herself that that was going to go
over well. Caden wasn’t a man who liked surprises, and he didn’t like it when
things didn’t go his way.
She got off the couch, wiping the sweat from her brow. Summer
was upon them full force and the heat was stifling in the little house. She
poured water from the pitcher she’d set out the night before into the basin,
rubbed soap onto a cloth and washed the sweat from her body. She wished it was
as easy to wash the dread from her mind. She’d worked so hard for what she had.
She couldn’t lose it.
She glanced over at her pistol lying on the table. She hadn’t
carried it for a couple weeks now. It wasn’t necessary. Those who’d caused
trouble had gotten the message. She was under the town’s protection. Today,
after she got dressed, she’d wear it, though. This was her business. No one, but
no one, was taking it away from her.
With a sigh she went to the back door and opened it. The kitten
that had adopted her meowed and curled around her feet.
“Good morning, Precious. Today’s our big day.”
The cat meowed again and wandered around her feet, wanting some
of the milk that she gave her every morning.
“Let’s get our business taken care of and then I will.” She
stopped at the outhouse before heading back to the well, drawing up water,
washing her hands again before filling a kitchen bucket. Precious meowed along
at her side, complaining at the delay of her breakfast the way she did every
day. Maddie shook her head and smiled. The kitten was a handful and demanding,
but it was her kitten. Her first pet in her first house at her first job, and
she’d kill anybody that hurt her.
She picked up the cat and touched her nose to hers.
“Coming right up.” She set the kitten back down, picked the
bucket back up and went in the house to pour a little saucer of milk. She set it
outside along with some leftover stew from the night before.
The kitten licked at the stew, choosing the bits it wanted and
devouring them rapidly, then lapped daintily at the milk. Precious definitely
had her preferences. At first Maddie had worried that the dogs would get her
kitten, but Precious was smart. She knew how to survive. Sometimes late at night
Maddie thought Precious could teach her survival lessons, because it was late at
night when her resolve wavered and she remembered being in Caden’s arms, how
close she’d felt to him, how carefully he’d made love to her, how special she’d
felt, and it was hard the next morning to wake up and realize that it had all
been part of a game. One she didn’t understand, but a game nonetheless.
Going back out, she gathered some wood and brought it in,
stoking the embers on the stove, opening the doors to both ends of the house.
She couldn’t wait for the day she could afford an outside stove. It was hot
cooking in the little house to the level she had to.
Two hours later a knock came at the sill. Maddie smiled, seeing
little Lissie Mayers with a basket on her arm.
“Are those my eggs?”
The little girl nodded. Maddie grabbed the cinnamon roll she’d
wrapped and set aside the night before along with the coins.
“How much did your mama say to give you?”
She held up two fingers. Maddie gave her the coin.
“And this is for you.” She handed her the bun. The little
girl’s face lit up and she smiled, revealing two missing front teeth.
Maddie wondered what it would be like to have a child of her
own. She sighed and lifted her braid off the nape of her neck. She sighed. She
needed to go back to the attorney she’d consulted with after the revelation at
the bank. Before, she’d asked the lawyer all about her business, but she’d never
asked him if she was truly married, and if she was, how did she get out of it
because she couldn’t see giving up the independence she’d forged for herself the
past few weeks to a man’s control. And if Caden came back, that was exactly what
would happen. Everything would be his to dispose of as he willed, including her,
and she couldn’t have that.
She waited that whole day on pins and needles, anxiety eating
at her appetite, even affecting her baking. Her bread wasn’t as light as it
normally was. Nobody complained, but she knew and so did some of her customers
based on the looks they gave her. When darkness fell and there was still no
Caden, Maddie let out a sigh of relief and started to believe that maybe he
wasn’t coming and all the things she worried about were not going to happen. But
that night when she dreamed, it was of his hands on her face, his lips on hers,
his whisper in her ear, and no matter how she tossed and turned every time she
fell back asleep, she heard his promise and she cried.
She wasn’t in a good mood when she got up the next morning, so
when the knock came at the door extra early, it didn’t improve. Thinking it was
Lissie, she grabbed the egg money and walked to the living room only to stop
dead when the door opened. Frank Culbart. A different Frank than she remembered.
He had shaved his beard. His hair was combed back and his clothes were clean. He
still looked like a big bear and he still had that aggressive set to his
shoulders, but when she looked into his eyes, she would have sworn she saw
softness.
“Maddie.”
She wished her face wasn’t sweaty and her hair wasn’t sticking
to her temples. She wished her hands weren’t coated in flour.
“Frank.”
“I heard you were in town.”
“You heard I was?”
He shrugged. “A pretty redhead named Maddie that bakes like a
dream? Couldn’t be that many in the state.”
She smiled. “You always did have a sweet tooth for my cinnamon
rolls.”
“I could go for one right now and a cup of coffee if you’ve got
time.”
She didn’t, but she’d make it. She considered telling him to go
around back, but then she realized how that would look. She stepped back and let
him in. She saw him wince at the heat in the house.
“It’s the oven,” she explained. “I have to have it on all day
to fill orders,” she explained. “But you’re welcome to come sit out back.
There’s a nice shade tree.”
He nodded. She led him through the house. He paused in the
kitchen and looked at her organized chaos. His brow went up.
“You’re doing well for yourself, then.”
She nodded, not sure what he wanted. She stopped and poured him
a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
“I’ll be right out with the cinnamon rolls. I have to take them
out of the oven.”
“I’ll wait.”
She was starting to protest. He made her uncomfortable the way
he watched her, but he was a guest in her house, and even in a whorehouse that
had meaning.
She pulled the cinnamon rolls out of the oven, whipped the
icing, moved them to a plate and drizzled it over them. She scooped one up and
handed it to him on a cloth so he wouldn’t burn his fingers. He smiled and
polished it off as if it wasn’t piping hot, his expression melting in bliss.
“I made a mistake marrying you off.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that an apology?”
“More like regret. I should have kept you for myself.”
“You’re not in love with me, Frank. You’re in love with
somebody else.”
“Don’t matter. It’s not like she’s going to bake me cinnamon
rolls.”
She smiled and shook her head at him. “Maybe if you let her see
your sweet side.”
He motioned for another roll; she motioned him out the
door.
“Go sit outside. I could use a break from this heat
myself.”
He grunted and went out. She put four rolls on a plate and
followed him. One would be for her, the other three for him.
She joined him with a coffee on the bench under the oak tree
and handed him the rolls.
“Aren’t you going to have any?”
“Three is all you get.”
“You usually give me four.”
“You already ate one.”
He sighed. “Things didn’t work out with that Caden fella,
huh?”
She shook her head.
“You should have told us when we took you that you weren’t a
working girl anymore.”
“You were a scary bunch.”
He looked away, and if she wasn’t mistaken, that was a hint of
color on his cheekbones.
“I never forced myself on a woman. It didn’t sit well, you
almost having me force myself on you.”
“Nobody forced you to do anything.”
“I was drunk.”
“You were sad and lonely.”
He looked at her again. “You remind me of her.”
“I do?”
He nodded. “She doesn’t have your spirit, though.”
“How can you say that?”
“She wouldn’t leave her family to be with me.”
“I wouldn’t leave a whorehouse to be free.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Why not? Did you like it
there?”
“Oh, heavens, no.”
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
“Because it was terrifying not knowing what I would face if I
left. I only knew those walls, those rules, and I believed they were as set as
gospel.”
He nodded.
“Elsbeth lives a very comfortable life. She’s used to fancy
things.”
“And you don’t consider yourself fancy.” She didn’t make it a
question and he didn’t pretend it was.
He held up his hands, showing the calluses and the scars. Even
though he’d obviously cleaned up for her, there was still a little dirt under
the nails.
“These aren’t the hands of a gentleman.”
She took one hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “But they’re
honest hands that know honest work, and the woman that holds them wouldn’t be
let down.”
He looked down at her hand holding his. “You’re holding my
hand.”
She shook her head. “But I’m not the one you want.”
“I can learn to make do.”
She let go of his hand. “Are you proposing to me?”