Page 3 of A Steadfast Heart
Pointless. This entire trip had been pointless. He and his brothers had three homesteads to prove up, and he had wasted a full week.
If only he hadn’t told the kids the purpose of this trip. Tillie was going to be heartbroken when he returned without the new ma he’d promised her.
* * *
Michael picked up my mail.
Kaitlyn Montgomery exited the St. Louis post office, her quick steps sending her skirt swirling around her ankles. Her pulse was buzzing in her ears, blocking out the sounds of carriage wheels clattering on cobblestones. Even though it was only March, the midafternoon sun hitting her tweed walking suit felt stifling. She wove between the people clogging the sidewalk, moving faster than might be considered socially acceptable.
She had to get home.
Her offer letter from the Piedmont School District, with its accompanying train ticket, was supposed to have arrived today. Accepting the role as teacher was supposed to be her way of escape.
How had Michael even known about the secret PO box?
No point in asking why the clerk had handed over her letters. Her brother could charm honey from bees without getting stung.
She was the only one who knew his true nature.
Her mind raced. What could she do now? If he’d read the letter, he would know she’d made plans to leave St. Louis. He would be angry.
Thoughts swirled as she dodged a mother pushing a baby carriage. Was there anyone she could ask for help? A newsboy’s shout of “Read all about it!” reminded her that her own name had figured prominently in the society pages of late, and the papers hadn’t gotten much correct. Why bother with truth when her brother’s lies sold more papers?
Even worse, her supposed friends now believed those lies. Had conveniently been “not at home” when she’d called on them. Pretended not to see her when they met in public. Who would believe her if she told them Michael had stolen her mail? Who would care?
No one.
She caught the cable car and stared out the window. The houses got larger as she reached the outskirts of the city. She exited at Dolman Street, then hurried past the three-story homes that faced Lafayette Park. Past the Holdens’ place, the Whitlaws’, the Fitzsimmonses’.
She stopped just outside the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the house. She could hardly call it home anymore. It loomed above her, three stories high with large windows leering at her from every level. She’d once loved the warm wood floors, the long, elegant hallways inside. Chasing dust motes, curling up in her window seat to read…Those memories were tainted now.
She inhaled deeply. No help for it. Her only hope for escape lay behind those doors.
The gate screeched as she opened it, announcing her return to anyone listening. She climbed the steps and opened the door. “Michael?” Her brother didn’t answer, but the door to the office was open, so she moved in that direction.
Michael was waiting for her when she entered, seated behind what had once been Father’s desk. He didn’t bother to stand. He might be dressed as a gentleman in his dark suit, silk tie, and black shoes, but he never bothered with the manners that went with the title unless it suited him.
He’d inherited their father’s honey-blond hair, just as she had, but the similarities ended there. He had brown eyes just like his mother and had their father’s height, while she had her mother’s green eyes and short stature.
She hesitated only slightly before moving closer. There was no use avoiding this confrontation.
“Where have you been?” His voice was cool, his question flat.
“Where’s my mail?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“This mail?” He smiled while holding up a letter. As she watched, he slowly tore it in half.
She lunged to reach the ripped letter, but he stood and held it over her head, lighting one corner with a match. Then he tossed it into the fireplace grate to watch it burn.
Kaitlyn rubbed a hand against her chest, but it didn’t ease the tightness. The ashes of her letter fell through the grate, disintegrating like her hopes. She blinked rapidly. What now?
Maybe she could send the school a telegram. They wouldn’t be happy about the wasted expense of that train ticket…
“I don’t know why you would want to leave St. Louis,” Michael said. He gestured to the room around them. “Father left us this beautiful home. All our friends are here.”
All ofhisfriends were here. He’d slowly isolated her from each of her closest allies. Spread gossip. Told lies.
And now this.
