Free Silverton: Claims On The Heart by Karen Cogan Page A

I’ll give you a tour after everybody cools off,” she said.
    Martin pushed inside. “I’ll give you a hand.” He glanced at the men. “You can finish here, can’t you, boys?”
    Collin studied them a moment before he looked away. Was there reproach in his green eyes?
    Kathleen felt as though a cloud had suddenly obscured her sun. She had looked forward to lingering with Collin over a glass of cool lemonade.
    Martin followed her into the kitchen and gave the room a critical gaze. “Not bad. A lady like you should have a nice house.”
    She sliced a lemon. “I’m glad you like it.”
    “You must be relieved to be out of that shack.”
    “It didn’t bother me much either way.”
    “You’re not only beautiful, you’re tough. I like that. I admire tough people. It’s the only way any of us get ahead in this life.”
    Kathleen frowned as she squeezed the juice. “I don’t have any ambition to get ahead.”
    “Of course not. You shouldn’t have to. It’s up to a husband to take care of his family.” He said it as though he was offering her his care and protection.
    She was not sure she wanted what he was offering. If only he would stop pushing for her affection she would enjoy his company a lot more. “I’ve finished the lemonade. Let’s take it into the parlor where we can all sit down.”
    “It’s kind to offer the workmen a drink, but I hope they don’t spill any on your new furniture. People who are not used to nice things don’t know how to take care of them.”
    “On the contrary, they have been very careful with the furniture.”
    “I am glad to hear it. Especially about that Irishman, McAllister. The Irish can be sturdy workers. But I’ve found it takes a strong hand to keep them working. They’re inclined to drink and be lazy.”
    Kathleen’s grip tightened on the pitcher. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’ve never found it to be true.”
    Martin laughed, a condescending sound that irritated Kathleen. “You’ve never had them working for you, I’ll bet.”
    “If Mr. McAllister annoys you so much, you do not have to stay.”
    “I’ve got nothing against him. But what does he have to offer?”
    “At the moment, friendship.”
    “And that is what I want to offer you, too. Please forgive me if I’ve made you angry. For your sake I’ll make an effort to be especially agreeable.”
    Perhaps it was a good thing he stopped by. If the two men spent time together maybe they could learn to appreciate one another, or at least be civil to each other.
    Martin set the glasses on the polished wood table in front of the settee.
    Kathleen poured a generous glass for each of them.
    “Ma will be wantin’ us back right away,” the older of the two boys said. “She has another delivery for us this afternoon.” They thanked her for the lemonade, drank it down, and promptly departed.
    Kathleen sipped her drink, keenly aware of the two men in the room.
    Collin sat in an overstuffed chair that matched her own.
    Martin sat upon the pale blue sateen sofa. He perched forward holding his drink in his long thin fingers. His posture was like the mythical gargoyles seen atop buildings in Europe.
    Kathleen smothered a smile at the thought. “I think Papa and I will be happy here. I’m glad this house already has pretty curtains at the windows.”
    Martin glanced at the windows decked with floral fabric. “Though I’m glad you got the house, it’s too bad the family had to move away. It would be good for Silverton to have more families. Makes it more respectable.”
    “You’re right. I was relieved to find churches and a school. I’ll be glad when more houses go up,” Kathleen said.
    “Families want to feel the town is safe,” Collin said. “Law and order are important. Back alley executions are bad for the town’s reputation.”
    There were always a few gunshots from the drunken revelry on Blair Street since she’d come to town, but Kathleen didn’t understand Collin’s