Page 4 of Native Hawk
Chapter 2
If no one wanted a bustle dress, and if there were no dress shops, Catalina would just have to seek a position elsewhere until she could afford to buy a sewing machine.
She’d never tried to get a job before. But she’d seen her father interview staff. She knew what sort of things impressed an employer.
She straightened her jacket and prepared to enter Clark’s Dry Goods.
Just before she reached the door, she felt someone’s eyes on her. She peered discreetly from under the tipped brim of her hat. At the farthest end of the boardwalk, a woman all in burgundy watched her with keen interest. Her bright red hair was piled high beneath a feathered hat, and her neckline was cut low enough to be more suited to the ballroom than the street. Catalina wondered why the woman was staring. Was she fascinated by Catalina’s bustle as well?
But by the time Catalina opened the door to the dry goods store and looked back, the woman had disappeared.
Catalina went into the store. At the back, behind the counter, a man in an apron was polishing his spectacles.
“SignoreClark?” she asked.
There were two customers in the store, a pair of men in jeans and flannel shirts who were looking over the jars of liniment. As she breezed past, the blond man backed out of her way. The bearded one let out a low whistle.
“Well, good mornin’,” the blond crooned, letting his gaze drip down over her.
She gave him a curt nod and proceeded to the counter.
The skinny and balding Mr. Clark fumbled his glasses onto his face and looked up with a start. “Can I help you?” he squeaked.
She flashed him a friendly smile. “Yes. I am seeking a position.”
“A position? You mean a job?” he said, rapidly blinking his eyes. “Here?”
The blond chuckled as he came up behind her. “Well, well, Henry, it must be your lucky day.”
She ignored him and spoke to Mr. Clark. “Yes. I can read and write. I can settle accounts. And I am good with peoples.”
“I bet youaregood with peoples, darlin’,” the blond continued.
Catalina furrowed her brow. The blond man reminded her of her spoiled cousin Alessandro, who believed he was as irresistible as Adonis.
She went on. “I can order supplies, stock the shelfs…”
“Can you lift a twenty-four pound sack o’ flour too?” the blond jeered. His companion giggled.
Her eyelids flattened, but she only tightened her fist around her closed parasol.
“I am not lazy,” she told Mr. Clark. “I am always on time. I—”
Mr. Clark held up his hand to stop her. “Much obliged, ma’am, but I don’t need help. My son does my stockin’, and my wife keeps the accounts.”
Catalina tried not to show her disappointment. “I see. Well, thank you for your time. I will go now.”
“Hey, you want a job with Calvin and me, workin’ at the Curtis Ranch?” the blond offered with a leer. “I bet you could tame those randy stallions faster than—”
She raised her hand and slapped the words right out of his mouth.
His eyes widened in shock as he cradled his injured cheek.
She swept past him on her way out, closing the door behind her.
Perhaps she should have used more discretion. But, as she’d learned from watching her father, it was best to let bad-mannered people know who was in charge from the very beginning.
So, straightening her shoulders, she proceeded to the Assay Office next door.
