Chapter Three

      “I resign. From my job, my position as lay preacher, and member of this community!”

      Charles couldn’t prevent the words that burst from his lips. It was as if they came from another person—another source.

      “And as an outlier to the community, I claim the same ability to shelter in one of the row houses like the other families who were marooned here by the avalanche.”

      Ezra Batchwell grew so red-faced that Charles wouldn’t have been surprised if the man’s head exploded.

      “How dare you?” Batchwell whispered accusingly. “How dare you treat our rules so frivolously?”

      Charles stiffened his shoulders. Batchwell was right. Charles owed the owners everything.

      And yet...

      He glanced at Willow, who hovered uncertainly near the twins’ basket. Unconsciously, she’d provided a barrier between the babes and Batchwell. Charles took in her wide, startled eyes, and that glorious hair limned by firelight. Behind her skirts, he could see the blankets moving.

      Please, please protect my little ones and keep them as your own. They are in more danger than I can express.

      Those defenseless babes needed him. Even if it was only temporary.

      “As you can see, Mr. Batchwell, I’ve got a family to take care of, and their welfare takes precedence. If that means giving up my job, so be it.”

      Batchwell opened his mouth—probably to offer another tirade. Jonah stepped slightly in front of the man, putting a hand to his chest. “You can’t fault a man for focusing on his family.”

      Then Phineas added his own two cents. “If you ask me, the boy hasn’t done anything wrong, Ezra. It’s not against the rules to be married here at the Batchwell Bottoms Mine. Half our workforce is married—” he pointed to Jonah “—including our mine superintendent. It’s only against the rules for them to live together on company property. And seeing as how Charles has resigned...well, I don’t see as how you’ve got any right to be carrying on this way.”

      A low rumble began in Batchwell’s chest, making it clear that he was ready for a rebuttal. Before he could speak, Phineas limped toward the basket a few feet away and drew aside the blanket so that the two sweet faces were exposed.

      “There comes a time in every man’s life when his family has to come first, Ezra. What with the death of that young girl and the storm...seems to me there would be something amiss in Charles if he didn’t decide that he should protect the ones he loves.”

      Phineas glanced up then, his shrewd gaze piercing straight into Charles’s soul. Charles prayed the older man hadn’t uncovered the deceit that lay there.

      “Far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome to use the row house. It’s not like there’s anyone else waiting for it. Once the pass clears, we’ll see what needs to be done.”

      Phineas lifted his arms and made a shooing motion. “Now, get out of here. Get! You, too, Ezra. You’re letting in cold air that these babes can ill afford. Even worse, it’s late and dark. Any of those conditions can make a man say things he oughtn’t.” He offered a bitter chortle. “And let’s just say that there’s nothing more that needs to be said until morning. Get!”

      The men reluctantly turned and filed from the room. Phineas was the last to leave, poking his wizened head around the edge of the door.

      “A good evening to you both. Charles. Mrs. Wanlass. You take good care of those little ones, you hear?”

      Charles couldn’t be sure, but for a moment, Phineas’s eyes seemed to twinkle. Then the door snapped shut, and they were left in silence.

      Alone.

      Together.

      There was a calm that fell over the empty row house. Then Willow shifted to adjust the blankets on the babies. Unsure of what to do, he walked to the door and bolted it, locking them in.

      Unaccountably, his palms were sweating and he unobtrusively wiped them down the sides of his trousers. Truth be told, he’d never been in any woman’s presence for more than a few minutes, let alone locked in a room with one. He wasn’t sure what he was expected to do. Since he’d never lived in a family setting, he had no history to draw from.

      Willow shivered, spurring him into action.

      “I’ll throw more wood on the fire and warm things back up.”

      She regarded him with wide eyes. “But...shouldn’t you ration your supplies?”

      Ration his supplies?

      There were plenty of logs next to the hearth and another pile stacked along the wall of the lean-to outside. Even if they managed to burn through the entire collection, thick stands of pine and aspen surrounded Bachelor Bottoms. It would be easy to gather more.

      Willow stood wringing her hands, obviously as uncomfortable as he was with their situation, so he offered gently, “There’s plenty out back. I doubt we could burn through it in a month.”

      “Oh. Oh, I see.”

      Despite his reassurances, she seemed to regard the extra fuel as an extravagance, and Charles wondered if he’d somehow given her the impression that he couldn’t provide her and the children with basic needs.

      But then, they didn’t know anything about one another, did they?

      “We don’t want the children to catch a chill.”

      “No. No, of course not.”

      The fact that he’d put the needs of the babies first seemed to dismiss her fears of wastefulness. Not wanting her to change her mind, Charles hurried to throw two big logs onto the fire, then fussed with them until he had no other option than to face Willow again.

      She stood in the same spot, her hands clasped at her waist, her eyes wide and unblinking. A bit stunned. But not horrified. He’d been so afraid that he would have offended her with the pack of lies he’d been spinning—or worse, that she would be dismayed at being rushed into a marriage she’d never wanted.

      “I, uh... I hope I didn’t upset you with everything...with what I said about...us already meeting and...”

      She shook her head. “No.”

      “Good. Because I didn’t want them—didn’t want anyone—thinking...”