The Dreammaker

Kaitlin drew in her resolve and squared her shoulders, reminding herself that those sorts of thoughts would do her no good. She had to continue on, to keep going.

Kaitlin turned to Tripp, standing at the broken remains of the counter.

“Well, I guess we’d better get to work,” she said.

“Get to work? Are you loco?” His eyes widened. “This place is hopeless.”

“We have to clean it before we offer it for sale. Who would buy it looking like this?”

He waved away her comments with his big hand. “Forget it. We’ll never see a dime from this place. Didn’t you hear Rafe say that the last owner couldn’t get rid of it? We’d be better off signing it over to the town before they charge us for tearing it down.”

Kaitlin’s mouth flew open, but she didn’t say anything. She’d had her own doubts a moment ago. Surely Tripp was entitled to the same feelings.

“I understand why you feel that way, Mr. Callihan. Just think it over a while longer.”

“I’ve already done all the thinking I need to do,” Tripp said. “Getting rid of this place is the only sensible thing.”

He meant it. She saw the determination etched in the hard lines of his face. He really wanted to walk away.

Kaitlin advanced on him. “I have plans, Mr. Callihan, and those plans require money. This is the only chance I have to get back what Harvey Stutz stole from me, and I’m not walking out on it.”

He glared down at her. “I’ve got plans of my own, Miss Jeffers, but I’m not crazy enough to think I’ll get anywhere with this place.”

“I’m not about to give up my dream.”

He studied her for a moment. “Then what do you suggest we do?”

She pushed her chin higher. “We’ll fix it up and run it ourselves. It’s the only possible solution.”

“Look at this place.” Tripp waved his arms around the room. “It’s got to be scrubbed from top to bottom. The shelves have to be replaced, the counter rebuilt, the walls painted. Part of the floor’s rotted—probably because the roof leaks. And that’s only what’s wrong with this section of the building. God only knows what needs doing in the back room and upstairs.”

“I didn’t say it would be easy.”

He stalked away, then turned back to her. “Besides, I don’t know the first thing about a store. Do you?”

She slid her finger across her lips. “Of course.”

Tripp eyed her for a long moment, his brow furrowed, his gaze intent. Finally, he shook his head.

“Look, Miss Jeffers, if you want to get your money back, why don’t you just get a job somewhere? You can earn back what Stutz took from you.”

“And what sort of work would you suggest, Mr. Callihan? What job could a woman get to earn that kind of money?”

Tripp shrugged his wide shoulders. “Restaurants are always needing serving girls. And hotels need somebody to clean.”

“I’ve worked those types of jobs, Mr. Callihan, for pennies a day. Pennies,” Kaitlin said. “It took years for me to save up what Harvey Stutz stole in one night. I don’t want to wait that long again.”

Kaitlin pressed her lips together. “We both know there’s only one profession where a woman can earn good money.”

Tripp straightened, his expression grim. “Don’t talk like that. That’s no kind of life for a woman like you.”

The intensity of his words stunned her. She’d certainly never considered turning to prostitution, but did envy the whores their money.

Kaitlin shrugged. “You can see that my choices are limited. Running my own business is the only chance I have to earn the money I need. You have to agree with that.”

Tripp stepped away. Obviously, he wasn’t ready to coneede anything.

“Fine.” Kaitlin squared her shoulders. “Just sign over the deed to me and I’ll run it myself.”

His frown deepened. “You can’t fix up this place by yourself. It’s too much work. You’ll hurt yourself.”

She tilted her head. “Maybe you’re afraid I’ll succeed?”

Tripp glared down at her. “That wasn’t my first thought.”

“Maybe it should be.” Kaitlin pushed past him and strode to the middle of the room. “Look, all we have to do is run the store long enough to earn back the money Harvey Stutz stole from us. I saw only one store when we passed through town. This place is hungry for variety. And what about those ranches and miners near here, and those small settlements? We’ll pull in people from miles around.”

Tripp stared at her, unconvinced.

Kaitlin kept going. “Everybody will come. The novelty of a new store will draw them in. They’ll buy. We’ll be lucky to keep stock on the shelves, and we’ll make a big profit very quickly. Once we’ve done that, we can list the store for sale and go our separate ways. If it never sells—who cares? We’ll have our money.”

Tripp paced back and forth in front of the toppled stove, rubbing his chin. He stopped and looked at her again.

“I’m hungry.”

“Hungry?” Kaitlin threw her hands up. “Haven’t you been listening? How can you think of food at a time like—”

Tripp strode out the door without a look back.

Two blocks down the street he slowed enough to glance around. The town of Porter was much like other towns he’d seen. Good people. Churchgoers, businessmen who didn’t cheat their customers, families planting roots. As towns went, Porter didn’t seem so bad.

Tripp went inside the Red Rose Cafe on the corner, took a seat at a table near the front window, but didn’t look out. He needed to think.

Propping his elbows on the red-checkered table cloth, Tripp dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. No, he didn’t want to think. There was nothing to think about.

An older woman with an apron spanning her considerable girth stopped at his table. “We’ve got chicken or ham today. What will it be?”

“Both.”

Lately, all he wanted to do was eat. A craving had come over him and he couldn’t control it.

“Sure thing.” The woman disappeared into the kitchen.

Tripp scrubbed his palms over his face, refusing to think about the general store down the street he’d just left. He’d made up his mind. The whole idea was crazy. It would never work.

The image of Kaitlin Jeffers flashed into his mind. Headstrong, determined, resourceful…beautiful.

Tripp slumped in the chair. Looks meant nothing. And neither did any of those other qualities. Any woman could display them. But how many would act on them when things got tough, when plans didn’t turn out as expected?

A deep ache settled over him, old and familiar. He allowed those feelings to wash through him. It was good to be reminded, from time to time. Good not to forget.

He drew in a deep breath. For all her talk of dreams and plans, Kaitlin Jeffers would forget the whole thing at the first sign of trouble. And Tripp didn’t intend to be left behind to pick up the pieces. Again.

Belly full of chicken, ham, vegetables, corn bread and two slices of peach pie, Tripp ambled down the boardwalk. When he reached the store, he cringed; the place looked worse every time he saw it.

Reaching for the doorknob he stopped. Singing. He heard singing. Looking up and down the street Tripp saw nothing, then peered into the store through the crooked shade over the door. In the middle of the floor, all alone, Kaitlin waltzed back and forth. Gracefully she swayed, her sweet voice rising in a lovely melody.

Tripp pushed open the door and walked inside. “Did you hit your head or something while I was gone?”

“Of course not, Mr. Callihan.” She finished her dance and smiled up at him. “Don’t you know you can dance on air when your dreams come true?”

God, she looked pretty. So full of hope and wonder and optimism. Tripp rubbed his hand across his belly. How could he feel hungry again?

“Let me tell you what I’ve decided on for the store.” Kaitlin gestured toward the back wall. “I’ll put candy jars on the back counter, and along the other walls, fabric and linens. The display windows will be for the newest merchandise, of course, and in that corner I’ll put—”

“Hold on a minute. You don’t really think you can make a go of this place, do you?”

Kaitlin smiled up at him. “Mr. Callihan, that’s exactly what I intend to do, with or without your help.”

Tripp looked around the dismal store. “You believe you can turn a profit here?”

Kaitlin glided past him. “Too bad you won’t be here to share it. Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind.”

Tripp watched her move about the store, her bustle bobbing as she thoughtfully considered each angle of the room. He cleared his throat.

“So, you know about running a store?” he asked.

She looked back over her shoulder at him. “A display of dishes and pottery would look good right inside the door, don’t you think?”

Tripp rubbed his chin. “And where do you plan to get the money to fix this place up and buy inventory?”

“From the cash that Harvey left behind. I’ve got a little money put away, too, money I’ve saved since Harvey took everything I had. It’s not enough to replace what he stole from me. But total, it’s enough to do the repairs to the store and buy the inventory. That’s all I need to get started.”

Tripp shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“It’s called investing,” Kaitlin said. “It’s not so unusual. I’ll invest in this store, earn back my money, plus make a profit—all the money I need to make my dream come true.”

“Do you really think you can do that?”

“Of course,” Kaitlin said. “And best part is that this way I can earn the money quickly. A new store will make tons of money when it first opens. There’s no other respectable way I can do that. And I’m not willing to wait years again, working for a few dollars a week.”

Tripp stepped closer. “You intend to drop everything and move here with the wild notion of running a store?”

“Running a store can hardly be called a wild notion, Mr. Callihan,” Kaitlin said. “But I suppose you’re too busy to speculate on a blossoming business opportunity like this. You already have a business, I suppose?”

“Well…no.”

“You’re working someplace special, then?”

“Not exactly.” Tripp pushed his hat higher on his forehead. “Don’t you have a family, or a job, or something?”

“If I had a family I would have asked them for money long ago and already been living my dream,” Kaitlin said. “I do have a job that I’ll be more than happy to quit.”

She nodded toward the torn curtain in the doorway along the back wall. “There’s lots of storage space for stock. We’ll need it, once word gets out that we’re here.”

Tripp glared at her, then shook his head. “This whole idea is loco, just plain loco.”

“Suit yourself, Mr. Callihan.” She shrugged. “Of course, it would be a shame for you to miss out on this opportunity, when you were so close. Maybe I can find another partner.”

“Another partner?” Tripp’s shoulders stiffened.

She brushed past him. “Yes, someone who isn’t afraid of a little hard work.”

“Now hold on a minute. I’m not afraid of hard work. Hard work has nothing to do with this.” Tripp rounded on her. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Me!” Kaitlin’s eyes widened. “You’re worried about me?”

“Hell, yes.” Tripp pointed toward the front door. “I’m not partnering with somebody who’s going to run out on me at the first sign of trouble.”

Irritated to no end, Kaitlin stretched up until her nose was even with his chin. After what he’d seen her do in the past twenty-four hours, he thought she wasn’t committed to her goals?

“Maybe you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Callihan, but you’re the one who keeps backing away from this deal—not me!”

Tripp reeled away. Good God, she was right.

Silence hung in the still, cool room. Minutes dragged by while they contemplated each other. Finally, Tripp drew in a deep breath.

“So you intend to see this thing through?” he asked.

Kaitlin nodded confidently. “I’ll have my dream, Mr. Callihan, and not you, or Harvey Stutz, or a room full of cobwebs is going to stop me.”

She offered her hand. “So how about it? Is it a deal?”

Tripp gazed at her outstretched hand. God knows, he’d be crazy to accept an offer like this. The store was a losing proposition if he’d ever seen one. Hell, he’d be better off walking out the door now while he still could.

But Kaitlin…Kaitlin burned with determination. Kaitlin caused something to flicker inside him. That determination, surely.

Tripp grasped Kaitlin’s hand, soft, delicate, fragile. A knot jerked in his stomach.

“It’s a deal,” Tripp said, and wished to God he’d never touched her.

“A little more to the right. That’s it…just a little more. Stop. Perfect.”

Kaitlin nodded with satisfaction as Rudy Langley positioned her big oval mirror in the corner of her new bedroom. Not the biggest room in the world, or in the store, but it was perfect for her, situated off the kitchen in the back room of her new business enterprise.

“Thanks, Rudy.”

Isabelle’s harness-and-pregnancy-making brother nodded and glanced around the room. “I guess that’s everything.”

“Everything but a dose of good sense.” Isabelle pursed her lips as she opened the lid of Kaitlin’s trunk.

“Honestly, Isabelle, you worry too much.” Kaitlin grabbed a handful of pantalettes from her carpetbag and shoved them into the bureau drawer. “What can go wrong?”

“A thousand things!” Isabelle waved her arms wildly.

Kaitlin turned to Rudy. “Talk to your sister. Make her understand.”

He backed away. “I just came to drive the team and unload your things. You two can fight this out on your own.” Rudy disappeared out the door.

Kaitlin pushed more of her belongings into the bureau drawer. “Nothing will go wrong.”

“Kaitlin, listen to reason.” Isabelle followed her across the room. “You don’t know this man. What if he’s a murderer? What if he was in prison? What if he’s one of those men who…takes advantage of women?”

Kaitlin stopped at the armoire. “Mr. Callihan hardly seems the type. But if it will make you feel better, when he gets here I’ll ask him if he’s ever killed anyone.”

Isabelle shook her head frantically. “Please, be serious about this.”

“Listen, Isabelle, if Mr. Callihan were a criminal, he certainly wouldn’t have showed up in Sheriff Newell’s office to claim Harvey Stutz’s belongings, now would he?”

“Well, maybe not.” Isabelle eyes narrowed. “But how do you know he won’t run off with your money like Harvey Stutz did? Hmm? How do you know that?”

Kaitlin shook out the pink skirt she pulled from the trunk and hung it in the armoire. Tripp Callihan could have run off with everything—cash and deed—the night he’d left her in the hotel, but he hadn’t.

“He seems like an honest man. He gave me his word, and I believed him.”

“His word?” Isabelle rolled her eyes. “And I suppose you shook hands, too?”

A hot rush crackled through Kaitlin at the memory of Tripp’s big, strong hand, closing over hers. It had sealed their deal in a way she hadn’t expected.

Kaitlin turned quickly to the armoire again. “Isabelle, you worry too much.”

“Of course I worry too much!” Isabelle wrung her hands together. “Think about what you’re doing. A partnership with a man you hardly know—a man you’ll be living with here in this store, all alone. Kaitlin, what will the townspeople think of you? Have you considered that?”

Her hands stilled on the blue blouse she pulled from her trunk. Color stung her cheeks, but she forced it down.

“Mr. Callihan and I are business partners. That’s all. The townspeople will just have to accept it. And once they’ve been in the store and seen what’s going on, no one will think any differently.”

“People talk, Kaitlin.”

“Well, let them talk.” She closed the trunk. “This is what I must do to get my money back. And if things go as planned, I won’t be in town long enough to care what anyone thinks.”

“Kaitlin, please, think this over.”

Reaching out, Kaitlin took her friend’s hands. “Stop worrying, Isabelle. Everything will be fine.”

Isabelle’s shoulders slumped. “All right. But if you need anything, you let me know. Rudy and I will come right over. It’s only a few hours’ drive.”

Kaitlin smiled. Isabelle had been her friend since they were just girls. They’d been through a great deal together. She didn’t know how she would have managed the trip to Porter—and a lot of other things—without her help.

Rudy stepped into the doorway of the bedroom. “We’d better go. Need anything else before we leave, Kaitlin?”

She gazed at the bedroom. Since Isabelle and Rudy had driven her to Porter this morning, they’d spent most of the day cleaning. Now, filled with her brass bed, bureau, mirror and armoire, the room looked a little more like home.

“No, Rudy, you’d better go if you want to get back before dark.” Kaitlin stretched up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for everything.”

Rudy ducked his head and grinned. “We’ll miss you.”

Kaitlin led the way through the kitchen—which they hadn’t touched yet—and out the back door. Across the little dirt alley stood a small barn and corral. Rudy’s wagon waited at the edge of the covered boardwalk.

“When is that Mr. Callihan supposed to get here?” Isabelle gazed down the alley, past the rear of the other businesses that faced Main Street.

“We agreed to meet here today. I’m sure he’s on his way.”

Isabelle’s eyes narrowed as if she doubted it.

“He’ll be here.” Kaitlin urged her toward the wagon and stepped back onto the boardwalk. “Goodbye. Thanks again.”

“Remember what I said,” Isabelle called as she settled into the wagon seat.

Rudy climbed aboard and tipped his hat as he headed the team down the alley. Kaitlin stood on the boardwalk, watching and waving until her friends disappeared from view.

After they were gone, she stood there a while longer. The town seemed suddenly quiet now, the breeze cooler. Clouds drifted over the afternoon sun turning everything a pale gray. Vague sounds from the street wafted through the air; somewhere, a dog barked.

Kaitlin glanced down the alley. Suddenly, she wished Tripp Callihan would get here. Odd, but it wasn’t like her to think such thoughts. She’d been alone for so long now, she was used to it.

No, she was just in a hurry to get the store ready, she decided. Kaitlin nodded confidently and brushed her hands together. Yes, that was the reason she was so anxious to see Tripp Callihan.

Kaitlin went inside the store and dumped the last of her clothing out of the carpetbag and onto the bed. As she sorted through them she heard the jangle of harness and the creak of a wagon out back.

Kaitlin hurried through the kitchen and opened the back door. High on the wagon seat sat Tripp, his black Stetson pulled low on his forehead, his shoulders straight, his hands holding the team steady.

“You came,” Kaitlin said, stepping outside. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

He set the brake and tied off the reins, then jumped to the ground and stretched his long legs. “I gave you my word, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” Kaitlin waved at the back of his wagon, loaded with furniture and crates. “I can see that now.”

Tripp reached into the wagon just behind the seat and a child sat up. The little boy yawned and ground his fists into his eyes, then raised his arms to Tripp. He lifted him from the wagon and set him on the boardwalk.

Kaitlin stared at the dark-haired child dressed in black suspendered pants and a rumpled white shirt. Finally she looked up at Tripp.

He glowered at her from beneath the brim of his hat.

“He’s my son.”

Chapter Four

She’d expected most anything from Tripp Callihan—a change in the terms of their deal, not showing up at all, actually turning out to be a convicted murder. But a child?

Kaitlin knelt in front of the boy. He was a beautiful child. Black hair, like Tripp’s. Deep-blue eyes, the same hue as his father’s. The family resemblance hidden in the boy’s soft face made Tripp’s features harder, sharper.

Kaitlin glanced up at him, towering over them both. He looked big, powerful, masculine. That strong chin and straight nose, those intelligent eyes would be the child’s someday. It was only a matter of time.

She smiled at the boy as he rubbed his eyes again. “What’s your name?”

He latched on to Tripp’s trouser leg and looked up at him.

“This is Miss Kaitlin.” Tripp touched his hand to the back of the boy’s head. “It’s all right to talk to her.”

“Charlie.” His forehead wrinkled in a little frown. “And you can’t call me Charles ‘cause Papa gets mad.”

Kaitlin grinned and glanced up at Tripp. “We certainly don’t want that to happen, now do we?”

“Uh-uh.” Charlie shook his head emphatically.

“How old are you?”

“Six.”

“My, but you’re a big boy for six.”

Charlie looked past her to the store. “You got any kids?”

Kaitlin rose and shook her head. “No. Sorry.”

“Papa?” He tugged on Tripp’s trouser leg. “I’m thirsty.”

“Come on, Charlie.” Kaitlin reached for his hand. “I’ll take you inside and get you a—”

“No.” Tripp dropped his hand on the boy’s shoulder and looked Kaitlin hard in the eye. “I take care of him.”

Kaitlin stepped out of the way. “Sorry…”

She followed them inside the store and found Tripp holding the boy up to the sink while he pumped water; Charlie stuck his mouth under the flow, lapping it with his tongue. Tripp set him down, then cupped his hand under the water and rubbed it over his face.

“Can I go outside, Papa?” Charlie asked.

Tripp pulled a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped his face. “Stay by the wagon. Nowhere else.”

“I will, Papa.”

Kaitlin stepped aside as the boy scooted out the door. She nodded outside.

“Have you got a wife inside that wagon, too?”

Tripp frowned at her. “No.”

“Will she be joining us later?”

His frown deepened as he shoved his handkerchief into his hip pocket. “No.”

Kaitlin stepped closer. “Will she—”

“It’s just Charlie and me.” Tripp dragged the sleeve of his pale blue shirt across his face. “We’d better get down to business.”

Obviously, he didn’t intend to give her more details and, really, it wasn’t any of her business. But the deep pain she saw in his blue eyes for a fraction of a second told Kaitlin a great deal of what she needed to know.

“Yes, I guess we should.” She motioned out the door. “We’ll get your wagon unloaded, then we can—”

“Hold on. We need to talk about a few things first.”

“Talk?” Kaitlin waved her hand outside. “There’s only a few hours of daylight left and lots to do. We can talk later.”

“No, now. There’re some things we have to get straight, and I’m not unloading my wagon until we do.”

Kaitlin huffed impatiently. “Fine.”

Tripp walked to the rickety table leaning against the wall, wiped the dust away with his handkerchief and righted two crates at either end.

“Sit down.”

Kaitlin waved her arms around the room. “Couldn’t we discuss this while we work?”

He blinked at her, taken aback by her questioning. “No. First things first.”

She perched on the edge of the crate, holding on to her patience. “Well, just hurry, will you?”

Instead, Tripp walked across the room and looked out the back door.

“Don’t play on that, son, you might fall.”

He stood there a moment longer, watching, then strode to the table and sat down across from her, the crate beneath him groaning.

“Now, let’s see.” Tripp pulled a small tablet from the pocket of his shirt. “First, I want to go over our partnership agreement.”

Kaitlin sighed heavily. “We’ve gone over that already. We split everything fifty-fifty, and sell out when we’ve made our money back.”

Tripp shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”