Chapter 4

“Oh, goody!” Esther Rose squealed, staring at the bakery box in Collette’s hands. “Thumbprint cookies!”

Collette passed the box to her sister-in-law and made her way to the parlor. “Yes, half are with jam and half are cocoa cream.”

“Mmmm.” Esther Rose licked her lips as she took one of the jam-filled centers out to try before placing the other eleven on a tray along with a lovely rosebud patterned bone china set for tea. She placed the tray on the low table between them and eased into her chair.

“What’s new with you?” Collette sat and poured herself a cup of tea, placed a jam-filled cookie on her saucer, and leaned back. They were not as special of a treat to her as they were to Esther Rose, since she had access to nibble on one now and again every day.

“I bought us some different dyed thread so we can make more colorful lacy what-nots.” Esther Rose accepted a cup and saucer from Collette, who had generously placed two cookies, one of each center, on the saucer. The spools of pink, blue, and green thread lay next to the tea tray on the low table for Collette to choose from.

“Oh, these are so pretty.” Collette giggled. “I can mangle a pink version of my tatting fiasco while we talk.”

Esther Rose chuckled. “Not true. You would be better at the craft if you put more effort into learning to do it, rather than ferreting out unsolved mysteries.”

“Well!” Collette harrumphed. “I think I’m better at ferreting out unsolved mysteries than I am at tatting lace.”

Esther Rose smiled. “My mother would be pleased that you keep trying.”

Collette frowned. “I doubt it.” She set the pink spool beside her and drank her tea. “Speaking of mysteries, did you hear about the new bar and bakery?”

Esther Rose’s eyes bulged. “Yes. It’s run by a widow woman from New Orleans.”

“Oh, Patrick said she was from Illinois.” Collette set her cup in the saucer and set them both on the table, leaning in to learn more.

“I believe she did come directly from Illinois, but I hear she has a very distinctive accent that places her from Louisiana.”

“And,” Collette deciphered Esther Rose’s statement. “Specifically, New Orleans?”

“Yes.” Esther Rose sat back and sipped her tea with a most zealous grin on her lips.

“Mmm. It sounds to me like we need to take a stroll this afternoon and see for ourselves.”

“Splendid idea.” Esther Rose bit into a cookie and savored its flavor before adding, “Let’s do that instead of reading the paper and tatting.”

Collette giggled, “Are you sure? I know how you love to read the paper while I suffer through the tatting exercises.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure. I want to know for myself about this new woman who has piqued every Nosey-Nellie’s interest. Perhaps she needs a female friend or two, rather than Curious Kate’s glaring at her through the windows.”

“Aren’t you full of alliterations this afternoon?” Collette giggled and finished her tea. “Let’s go.”

They walked arm in arm down the boardwalks that lead south toward the rougher side of the Depot District. The two of them were not concerned for their safety in such an undesirable area. Patrick O’Riley, being a deputy and Collette’s brother, and Esther Rose’s husband, would be along any minute patrolling for trouble. He, or one of the other deputies who knew the girls well, would not allow any harm to come to them wherever they wandered about the east end of Denver City.

The hour of three o’clock, which was Collette and Esther Rose’s ritualistic tea and tatting time, could be a reasonable time to expect a saloon would not be overrun with patrons. The mining and roughneck railroad workers didn’t get released from their work until much later. Perhaps they could just walk into the bar and bakery and introduce themselves without fear of offending the decorum police, that being the women who kept an eagle eye on any worthy gossip to be shared over the clotheslines.

“I could thank her for the business she is giving Liam and me,” Collette said breathlessly.

“Yes. Another good excuse for us entering her saloon.” Esther Rose replied.

The two of them grinned as they pushed through the batwing doors of the Mountain Boy’s Saloon and looked around.

A fine-dressed woman sat at the bar. A man with a handlebar mustache stood behind it, wiping the polished surface with a white towel. The two of them turned with widening eyes at the girls as they entered.

Collette took a step away from Esther Rose and was the first to speak, “Mrs. Sanders, I presume?”

“I am Mrs. Sanders,” She spoke softly as she slid off the bar stool. A frown pressed her lips into a straight line. Her skirts tumbling to cover her feet and ankles that had been exposed, up to her shins, by her crossed legs and unladylike posture while perched on the tall chair. “Yes?”

“I’m Collette Sandoval and this is my sister-in-law, Esther Rose O’Riley, we just wanted to come here and welcome you to the Depot District.” She lifted her chin. “Also, I wanted to thank you for giving my husband and I your bakery business.” Collette giggled, letting her eyes roam the interior, wondering where she had placed the sweet rolls and bread that she knew were delivered that morning.

“Ah! You’re da baker’s wife. And who might you be, den, Mrs. O’Riley? Don’t tell me you’re related ta dat Deputy Patrick O’Riley?” Her grin widened.