The Boss's Daughter

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

In the morning while I’m getting dressed, movement in the mirror behind me catches my attention and I watch the door knob turn slowly, almost as if someone hopes to sneak into my room.

Then the door shudders when whoever it is on the other side tries to push it open, and out in the hallway, a man grunts. Quickly I button my shirt, tucking it into my dungarees, then I buckle my belt into place. Grabbing my hat off the bed post, I pocket the change on my dresser and hurry to the door. I press my ear against it, listening, but whoever was there is silent, or has moved on.

Cautiously I unlock the door and inch it open. The hall beyond is empty.

I have a key for the door, which Miss Barbour gave me when I first moved in, but I’ve never used it before. I only lock up my room at night, so no one can sneak in on me while I sleep. During the day, there’s no one lingering around Junction—they’re all at the train depot, or at the BDT ranch, and the only one who might possibly come in is Miss Barbour to tidy up the place. She opens my curtains every morning; I don’t bother.

No one’s ever tried to enter my room before, at least not with me still inside it. The only person I can think of who might bother is Charlie Barbour. Though all the money I have is tucked into the front pocket of my pants, I don’t want him snooping around when I’m at work, so I lock the door behind me as I leave. Halfway down the stairs, I hear a young man’s voice drifting out from the parlor. “Why’s he lock his door anyway, Aunt Nance?”

“None of your business,” I hear Miss Barbour say.

I follow her voice into the parlor. Charlie sprawls on the sofa, his back to me, his hair slicked back and dark with oil. He wears a light-colored shirt and gray flannel pants, probably the best outfit he owns, and the matching jacket hangs over the arm of the sofa. Miss Barbour is dusting the framed pictures above her mantle, her small mouth folded tightly between her hawkish nose and double chin.

“You leave my boarders alone,” she says with a sniff of disapproval. “I can’t turn you away because you’re kin, but I won’t have you scaring off a good man like Mr. Allen with your nonsense.”

“I just want to know why the door’s locked,” Charlie persists.

From behind him, I say, “To keep your thieving hands off my personals.”

He turns quickly, the tips of his ears reddening with embarrassment. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, right.” I glare at him until he can’t hold my gaze any longer and has to look away. I’ve met him a time or two before, always when he came around sniffing for money from his aunt, and though I don’t know him, I know enough to know I don’t like him. He’s soft and flabby and pale, with shifty eyes and a wheedling way of talking that always sounds like he’s trying to get away with something. I knew men like him back east—long ago, when I was just a kid, my father made plans to marry me off to one. I left Philadelphia to get away from men like Charlie. I no longer have to deal with them if I don’t want to.

From the mantle, Miss Barbour says, “I’m sorry if Charlie disturbed you this morning, Mr. Allen. He’s only in town for a few days. I’ll see to it he doesn’t bother you again.”

“No bother, ma’am,” I assure her. To him, I add, “If you’re looking for work, I’m sure Boss Daddy will hire you on for a day or two. Stables always need mucking, and I’m sure you’re good at shoveling shit.”

He barely glances my way. “I’m not looking for work.”

“No, I guess you’re not.” With that, I raise my hat and bow slightly before I leave. “Oh, Miss Barbour, I’m going to keep my door locked for the next few days, if it’s all right with you.”

She nods, but as I turn to leave, I see the angry look she shoots Charlie’s way and have to suppress a grin. He can’t get out of Junction soon enough for me.