Free Courting Kate by Mary Lou Rich

iron bedstead, the pastel-hued braided rug on the floor. The rooms were simple but well appointed, much like one would find in any modest home. And scrupulously clean.
    And rented for her by Tanner Blaine.  
    She refused to just sit here and accept his charity. There had to be something she could do. Hoping Madame Jeanne would have the answer to her plight, she hurried from the room.  
     
    With the hubbub of breakfast ended and the dining area cleaned and made ready for the next meal, Kathleen and Jeanne sat alone at a small table in an alcove off the kitchen.  
    “I could be a governess,” Kathleen suggested.
    Jeanne looked at the list she had made and shook her head. “Eet has no future. Besides, no one in Jacksonville needs ze governess.” She tapped a pencil she held between two pudgy fingers; then, sighing, she crossed another option off the list. Madame drew her mouth into a moue. “You can not sew. Or cook.” She gave Kathleen a sidelong glance. “But you are pretty. And smart. You can be actress. Join one of traveling shows that sometimes come to town. I help you with ze costumes, and ze girls, they help you with your makeup.”
    Horrified, Kathleen shook her head. She peered over at the paper where yet another item was being crossed off. “It seems I haven’t many options after all.” Pretty and smart seemed to be the only things left on the list, and in spite of Madame’s insistence, Kathleen wasn’t at all sure about those.  
    “Do not give up,” the older woman admonished. “Let me think on it a bit.”
    “Thank you for trying.” Knowing her landlady had things to do, Kathleen got up from her seat and left the room. This was her problem. It would be up to her to solve it. Maybe she could think better if she took in some fresh air.  
    After fetching her cloak and gloves, she left the boardinghouse and strolled along the weathered boardwalk. She smiled at an aging Chinese man, who shot her a look of alarm and darted into the nearest alley. She’d seen others of his country from the hotel window, always hurrying, always furtive, as if they were afraid to be discovered on the street. Strange, she thought.
    Midway down the block she paused to chat with the handsome banker, Cornelius Beekman, who was heading to the Stars and Bars for lunch.
    She also stopped at the Oregon Sentinel office and checked the help wanted column. Without success. Unless she was a miner or timberman, no work was to be found.
    Madame had said Kathleen would do better to start her own business, but that took money. Besides, what kind of business could she do?
    “Doggone it, they done sold out of pies again,” a passing miner fumed. “I had my mouth set on apple, too.”
    “The bakery mostly makes bread, not pies,” his companion muttered. “The ones they do make sell as soon as they come out of the oven.”
    The men passed on by, but their conversation stuck in Kathleen’s mind. Pies. She’d made a few, but they’d barely been edible, certainly nothing anybody would be willing to pay for. Still...  
    Deep in thought, she strolled the length of Main Street, then cut through the alley and made her way back to the boardinghouse.
    She paused in the vestibule to remove her cloak. Someone opened the door and entered behind her.  
    “Miss Deveraux?”
    “Yes.” She turned and saw four boys standing in the boardinghouse entry. Their clothing, while shabby, was clean, their faces fresh-scrubbed.  
    “We’re Tanner Blaine’s brothers. We came to apologize. Could we talk with you for a minute?”  
    She knew before they spoke who they were. It wasn’t because of family resemblance, because they looked nothing like their older brother. Tanner had black hair and eyes so dark a grey they, too, appeared black.
    The boys’ hair ranged from blond to dark reddish brown; their eyes were either blue or hazel. It was their manner, she decided. They held themselves erect, their bearing proud. The gaze they gave her was