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inside, probably starting one of Megan's dresses. Caleb's pace quickened, and he took the hotel steps two at a time. He opened the door to Sabrina's room without knocking. A gust of thick, sickly-sweet perfume washed over him, nearly making his eyes water.
    The Wilkes Hotel was one of only two lodging houses Leavenworth could offer, and this corner room was the best they had, though small by city standards. It boasted two windows draped with thick white curtains, one overlooking the town's busy thoroughfare, the other facing the farther, more deserted end of town—where Rebecca lived. A dark, intricately designed dresser lined one wall, with a full-length cheval glass in the corner. Matching nightstands and oil lamps decorated each side of the large canopy bed at the opposite end of the room. The carpet was still deep cherry red but worn and slightly faded around the dresser and bed.
    Sabrina was beneath the canopy, reclining against a pile of fat, fluffy pillows. She let out a small cry of pleasure at Caleb's sudden appearance but seemed otherwise undisturbed, as if she was used to men barging into her room at all hours of the night. She wore a filmy pink nightdress covered by a nearly translucent robe of the same color. Neither left much to the imagination.
    Caleb wondered briefly if he or some other man had bought the garments, then decided it didn't really matter. He wanted one thing from Sabrina, and one thing only.
    Sabrina sat up, displaying a generous amount of cleavage and a pout she had perfected over the years. “You frightened me, darling. I haven't seen you in so long, I thought you had forgotten me."
    Caleb knew she was fishing for a compliment. Something like, “I could never forget you, Sabrina.” He said it without emotion, meaning it, but not the way she would think. Caleb suspected he wouldn't easily erase Sabrina from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Her maple-syrup voice, her liberal use of cosmetics and colognes, and her overly bright yellow hair doubtless would stick in his memory for some time to come.
    "Where have you been, then?"
    "I've been busy,” Caleb answered.
    Sabrina continued speaking, and he nodded, pretending to listen to her list of complaints as he made his way to the window facing Rebecca's house. He pushed the white draperies out of the way and stared for a minute at the small, plain cabin, taking a long swallow of whiskey.
    Caleb knew nearly every inch of Rebecca's home. He knew the sewing mannequin stood before the fireplace, knew where she kept her fashion plates and sewing supplies, her china and cutlery. And he knew that if he went behind the pink and white rose-covered curtain at the back of the makeshift parlor, he would find Rebecca's bedroom. Caleb suddenly wanted to be in it, to know that room intimately as well.
    With that thought came images of Rebecca, the dress she had been wearing that afternoon, and how she would look out of it. Caleb turned his head toward Sabrina, cringing inwardly at the sight. Despite Sabrina's artificial beauty and practiced charms, Caleb wanted to make love to the small, mousy, passionate woman in the cabin below.
    The thought of staying with Sabrina became suddenly unbearable. He moved for the door. “I have to go."
    "Where?” Sabrina cried, coming to her knees on the bed.
    "I have some business to take care of. It can't wait."
    Her mouth turned down in a pout. “When are we going back to
New York
? You said it wouldn't be long, Caleb. I want to go home. I hate it here,” she whined. “It's hot and lonely, and nobody likes me. Maybe if I bought some new dresses..."
    Sabrina's voice hurt his head. He looked at her in stunned realization, as if seeing her for the first time.
    "Don't buy anything else on my credit, Sabrina."
    Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “But, Caleb—"
    He shook his head and let his eyes fall closed, trying to keep a headache from forming between his temples. “Use your monthly allowance for a train