A Temporary Family. Sherri Shackelford
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rough calluses on his palm chafed her skin. He caught her gaze and her heart kicked. She looked over her shoulder and caught Charlie following their progress, a speculative gleam in his beady eyes. She whipped back around.
Snyder grunted. “Let’s go.”
As far as the outlaws knew, she and Nolan were husband and wife. She’d been too stunned by Charlie’s unexpected attack to refute his words, but Nolan had latched on to falsehood. He’d used the lie as a bargain, and he’d saved their lives, and her virtue, in the process. Though she wasn’t adept at dealing with fugitives, she admired his ploy. He’d cleverly bargained his assistance for her safety and the safety of the girls.
Once inside the relay station, Snyder grabbed a heel of bread from the counter and bit off a hunk before wandering into the area containing the dining table. He didn’t appear in any great hurry to start his search.
Nolan led her to the meticulously ordered kitchen. Another tidbit she’d discovered about the stagecoach man in the short time they’d known each other—he was neat. Obsessively so. Her father and Eleanor had shared the same trait. They obsessed over even the tiniest imperfection.
If growing up in a spick-and-span household had taught her anything, the two of them were bound to clash. Tilly had never been praised for her tidiness.
While Eleanor and her father had been obsessively neat, Nolan’s living conditions were austere in the extreme. There were chalked outlines on the wall where the pots and pans had been arranged by size. Eleanor would probably swoon at the sight. An unexpected stab of jealousy focused Tilly’s attention. Eleanor wasn’t here. Eleanor was miles away, and Tilly had better keep her head clear. She’d already cost them with her inattentiveness.
Nolan lit the stove and adjusted the flame. “They’ll expect the woman to prepare the food,” he said. “Follow my lead and try and pretend you know where everything is located.”
She looked heavenward. “You should know that I don’t cook very well.”
Another piece of domesticity she’d never mastered. Women’s work was either frippery, like embroidering handkerchiefs, or tediously repetitious, like cooking and doing laundry. She hadn’t the patience for either.
They’d employed a housekeeper off and on over the years, depending on the state of her father’s law practice. That was another reason her volunteer work had dwindled. Since her father had to pay his current law clerk an actual salary, as opposed to Tilly’s free labor, she’d once again taken over the role of housekeeper.
“I don’t think they’re expecting much in the way of food,” Nolan replied wryly. “When Snyder is distracted, I’ll slip into the bedroom and retrieve my gun.”
“If he catches you retrieving a gun,” Tilly whispered harshly, “he’s liable to kill you.”
A crash sounded and Elizabeth toddled from the bedroom the girls had claimed.
“Uh-oh,” the toddler exclaimed ominously.
Victoria skidded from the room, Caroline close on her heels.
Caroline pointed. “It was her fault!”
“Was not.” Victoria’s lower lip protruded in an exaggerated pout. “She pushed me.”
Tilly heaved a sigh. “What’s broken?”
“Your looking glass.”
Tilly scrubbed a hand down her face. “Never mind.”
Of all the things that had gone wrong this day, a shattered looking glass was the least of her worries.
“Why don’t you three wash up for supper?” she directed. “Stay out of the bedroom for now. I’ll clean up the glass when I’ve finished with dinner.”
She paused on an expectant breath, waiting for someone to protest. When Caroline merely shrugged, Tilly exhaled loudly. She silently praised the innocent acceptance of children. She and Nolan were treading through a minefield with this charade. Who knew what pitfalls they were bound to stumble over in the next few days? Her nieces hadn’t questioned the fact that she was assisting Nolan with dinner, though he’d prepared the meals exclusively since their arrival.
She slanted a glance at Snyder, who’d been distracted by several burrs adhered to his canvas-clad calves. The men’s escape must have led through tall brush. He twisted around, his attention focused on the stubborn spikes. Tilly edged toward the bedroom Nolan occupied. The outlaw grunted and straightened, abandoning the effort.
Panic tightened painfully in her chest. Her three nieces crowded around the wash bucket, laughing and splashing each other, their argument forgotten as quickly as it had flared. Pain throbbed behind her eyes. They had no idea of the danger, and she was determined to keep it that way.
Nolan’s gaze darted toward the bedroom door at the opposite end of the relay station.
“You can’t,” she implored quietly. “It’s too dangerous.”
“We don’t have any other choice. Dakota Red has us trapped. He’s right, we won’t get very far without the horses.”
“Then we’ll help them. Once they have the gold, they’ll leave us be.”
Pity shimmered in his hazel eyes. “Sure.”
Her heart sank. “They’re going to kill us either way, aren’t they?”
“Let’s just get through tonight, we’ll worry about the rest later.”
He was backtracking on his words to keep her fears at bay, but she’d seen the truth in his expression. Once the outlaws had the money, their lives were forfeit. She glanced at the two long braids hanging down Caroline’s back. For the first time in her life she was entirely free of Eleanor’s authority and her father’s disapproval, and all she wanted was to crawl back home. She’d been angry with her sister for treating her as though she was still a child, and here she was behaving like one.
Eleanor had always been stronger, but something had changed since Walter’s passing. The facade of perfection had slipped, and her sister’s fragility had unleashed a desperate terror in Tilly. It was a truth she’d been unwilling to face. If Eleanor wasn’t the strong one anymore, where did that leave Tilly? As much as she chafed against her role in the family, at least she understood her place.
Victoria giggled and flicked water at her younger sisters. The juxtaposition of their innocence against the outlaw prowling the house was too much to bear.
Tilly’s chest pounded like a kettledrum. “Where are those blackberry bushes, Mr. West? Are they close?”
“Out the back door, and straight ahead.” He pitched his voice low. “You can call me Nolan when we’re around the outlaws.”
Her cheeks heated. “Of course. I keep forgetting.”
She squinted through the window. The three girls would be away from the house, but still within sight. Nolan was correct, they needed distance between her nieces and the outlaws at all times.
She grasped a bowl from the counter and approached Caroline. “Gather as many berries as you can. Take as long as you need.”
Once again Caroline shot her a speculative glance, but didn’t question the orders. Tilly made a note to watch herself around the middle child. All of the girls were intelligent, but Caroline was the most like Eleanor, and Eleanor had always known when Tilly was up to something.
Once the girls were gone, Tilly and Nolan began the meal. Snyder skulked about the station, poking his nose in all the cupboards and stomping on the floorboards. He emerged from the first bedroom empty-handed, and she and Nolan exchanged an uneasy glance. The barren rooms gave little clue as to who occupied them.
Nolan started for the door, but Snyder blocked his path.
“You stay where I can see you,” the outlaw ordered.
Nolan’s concentration