over a murmured reply, at the same time thinking that of course she could manage to get along just fine with Case Durham. It wouldn’t be difficult at all.
If she stayed as far away from him as possible.
Chapter Two
Case broke the awkward silence between them, summoning Becky with a sharp gesture.
“Show Miss McLain to her rooms, please.” He turned back to Katlyn. “I’m sure you’re exhausted from your ordeal. Becky can bring dinner to your suite tonight, if you’d like.”
“M-my suite?”
“Of course.” Case narrowed his probing gaze. “It was one of your requirements for taking the job.”
Katlyn avoided his eyes and busied herself pulling off her white kid gloves. She waved them in a little flirtatious gesture she’d seen her mother use hundreds of times to avoid awkward situations. “Yes. Indeed it was. I must be comfortable if I’m to survive this wild country any length of time at all, mustn’t I?” she said, managing an uncomfortable laugh.
“By all means. We want you to feel at home here.”
The edge of sarcasm in his voice told her he didn’t appreciate her weak attempt at levity.
Glad to escape his unnerving presence, Katlyn eagerly fell in behind Becky as the girl motioned toward the stairs. Katlyn lifted her heavy skirts and petticoats and began the ascent, but halfway up the staircase she stopped cold.
What was she doing! She couldn’t possibly stay here and leave her mother at the boardinghouse. Couldn’t and wouldn’t. That’s where she’d draw the line in this farce.
She turned back around to find Case standing at the foot of the stairs like a centurion looking up after her, back straight, feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed over his broad chest. He stood watching her, staring actually, his expression offering nothing but a handsome mask of cool politeness.
Only his eyes, deep and searching, held any hint of emotion. Annoyance, Katlyn thought.
Case waited impatiently, wondering how a woman who seemed so lacking in poise had managed to become so successful before an audience. He supposed she must be a better actress than she seemed. Perhaps the trip here had unnerved her more than she admitted.
“Is there something else, Miss McLain?” he prompted when she stayed frozen on the staircase, looking down at him as if she expected him to pounce at any moment.
“Actually…there is.”
“Do you intend to tell me, or should I guess?”
Katlyn ran the tip of her tongue over dry lips. “It’s my—traveling companion. She helps me dress and do my hair and makeup. But the robbery and the walk to town had a terribly ill effect on her. Her health has been fragile since the start of our journey and now…well, I’ve secured a room for her elsewhere, but I can’t leave her at the boardinghouse alone.”
Case said nothing, taking his time pondering the situation, much to Katlyn’s irritation.
“She can stay with me,” she said finally, more sharply than she intended. “I wouldn’t ask for another room.” Still he held back, the silence of waiting growing like thunder in her head. “Mr. Durham—”
“Bring the woman here at once,” he answered, his tone an abrupt contrast to his words. “Becky, I’ll have Sally see to the laundry for a time so you’ll be free to help Miss McLain and her companion.”
Becky practically burst with joy. “Yes, Mr. Durham!” The girl leaned close to Katlyn and said, “I’d be right proud to help you and your friend, ma’am.”
Smiling back at Becky in thanks, Katlyn breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She could watch over her mother day and night now. Having Penelope close would make the whole ruse livable.
The doctor would be discreet, she thought. He called her mother Mrs. McLain and neither Katlyn nor Penelope had corrected him. But Penelope had insisted no one else learn of her and Katlyn’s relationship. Lending Katlyn her title was one thing, playing the role of the St. Louis Songbird’s ailing mother was quite another. Katlyn was certain, once the doctor understood her mother’s delicate and volatile temperament, he would agree it was in Penelope’s best interest to keep their secret.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Durham,” she told Case. “I’ll see to having her moved here this evening.”
“I’ll send Bucky along to help.”
“Thank you,” Katlyn nodded, then turned back to climb the stairs to the landing.
“Miss McLain—”
Case didn’t know what impulse prompted him to call her back. Maybe it was the way she kept surprising him. He didn’t like surprises. Or mysteries. And Penelope Rose, Katlyn McLain, or whatever she chose to call herself, was both.
She looked back at him, clearly startled.
“If you’re not too tired, perhaps you’ll join me this evening in the saloon for a brandy,” Case said. “I’m sure you’d like to see the stage.”
Choking back the lump that rose in her throat at the mention of the word stage, Katlyn nodded down to him and hurried after Becky.
They turned the corner out of Case’s view at the top of the stairs and, away from his disturbing scrutiny, Katlyn’s tension ebbed a little.
A dimly lit landing separated one door from the rest of the rooms that lined the other hallway. As Becky motioned her to the landing, Katlyn caught sight of a little flash of white moving behind the railing.
She squinted and looked harder, making out the image of a child’s face pressed through the spindles of railing. The apparition looked like a little dark-haired girl, crouching down, who appeared for an instant then vanished behind a velvet curtain.
“Hello?” Katlyn ventured. When no one answered, she turned to Becky. “Who was that?”
“Oh, just Mr. Durham’s little girl.”
So he was married. Her mother hadn’t told her that. In a way, it was a relief to know he had a wife and child. There must be some trace of warmth in him after all.
“Could you ask her to come out so I can meet her?”
“I can try. But she don’t like strangers. She’s real shy. Don’t say much to no one.” Becky turned toward the curtain. “Emily, this pretty lady wants to meet you. She’s the new singer your daddy told you about.”
After several minutes of coaxing from Becky, at last the heavy drapes swayed and a pair of beautiful, wide-set eyes and pink cheeks peeked out from between the crimson folds.
In that quick glimpse, Katlyn saw the biggest evergreen eyes and the sweetest little peaches and cream face she had ever laid eyes on. She was struck at once by the child’s remarkable beauty—and by the joyless expression that marred it.
“Hello, Emily,” she said, speaking
