Hope's Heart

Chapter Four

A/N: Chapter Four is up!

Chapter Four

"Do you mind if I help with the dishes?" Hope had been standing next to the window looking out into the street for as long as she could take, and she now finally managed to get up the courage to ask if she could do something.

Nellie glanced up at her, surprised, but nodded. "Reckon you can. Don't get too many people askin' if they can help out around here. Take that cloth and you can dry the plates as I clean them."

"Thank you." Hope took the offered cloth and began to dry the crockery, keeping one eye on Maggie, who was playing on the floor with a rag doll Nellie had offered her.

"How old's your little girl?" Nellie asked.

"Three. Her birthday was last month."

"You're a mite young to be having a child, aren't you?" The old woman's hawk-like eyes were alive with curiosity, and Hope felt a sudden rush of defensiveness.

"I got married young," she responded, the abrupt edge to her voice forbidding any more questions. But Nellie was either oblivious, or didn't care.

"What happened to your man?"

Sharp tears pricked the back of Hope's eyes and she suddenly found it hard to concentrate on the plate she was drying. "He died."

"I'm sorry." Nellie's voice softened a bit and she changed the subject. "So, what are ya gonna do while you're here?"

"I don't know," Hope replied. What could she do? She was going to have to find work, and soon, especially if she was going to be living at the boarding-house.

"What are you good at?"

"I can cook, clean, sew..." Hope's voice trailed off. "Sewing is what I'm best at. Ma always said I had a neat stitch." The neat stitch compliment had been about the only nice thing Ma had said to her, but Hope wasn't about to tell her new hostess that.

"Well, ain't that something," the older woman beamed. "We ain't got a seamstress in Sweetwater no more. She got married and moved to Colorado last year, and with the prices at Gerson's, the ladies around here would be real glad to have a dressmaker again."

Hope frowned. "I'd need a place to work, wouldn't I?"

"You could use the old shop. It needs some fixing up, but Calvin and Luc could do that."

"Oh, no, they couldn't." The words were out before Hope could stop them. 

Nellie frowned. "Why not?"

"I just..." Hope floundered. "I don't want to be any more indebted to Mr McKay than I am already."

Nellie's brows scrunched together. "You think Cal will want payment for that, don't ya?"

Hope looked away and nodded. 

The older woman put her hands on her hips. "Now, you listen to me! The only payment Cal ever takes for work is a good meal, and that's only when I prod him. You try an' offer him money and he'd run a mile. He'd be glad to do the work for ya."

Hope managed a smile. "Thank you, Mrs Woods."

There was a knock on the door and Nellie glanced up. "That'll be the sheriff. Pete!" she hollered, and the boy whom Hope had seen earlier appeared in the doorway.

"Yes?"

"Go and answer the door. Sheriff's here."

A few seconds later, Sheriff Paul Wyatt stepped into the room. He was a tall man, towering over Hope by a good couple of feet, with thinning dark hair greased to his skull and an oily smile, as well as a paunch that told of too many meals.