Texas Cinderella (5 page)

He gave her a squeeze that he hoped was comforting. Comforting the way Miss Vickers's touch on his arm had been.

Shaking off that stray thought, he looked down at his niece. “Don't worry, kitten, the doctor is going to come and fix you right up.”

At least he sincerely hoped so.

Riley set Pru on one of the two narrow beds in the room and helped her remove her shoes.

His thoughts turned back to that fleeting touch Miss Vickers had given him. For just a moment there in the dining room, as she'd taken a moment to try to reassure him, he'd had a sense of what it would be like not to have to face all this on his own, to have someone at his side willing to support him in difficult times, willing to shoulder some of the responsibility.

It had felt good.

But it wasn't real. That kind of relationship didn't really exist, at least not for him.

As promised, Miss Vickers was ushering the doctor into the room in a matter of minutes. The introductions were made quickly, then the white-haired physician turned to Pru with an avuncular smile.

“Well now, young lady, I understand you're not feeling well.”

“No, sir.”

“Let me just have a look at you and see if we can do something to make you feel better.” He turned to Riley. “Why don't you wait in the parlor? Miss Vickers here will assist me.”

Riley started to protest, but Miss Vickers took his arm and gently led him to the door. “Don't worry, Doc Pratt knows what he's doing. He's been looking out for kids in this town since before I was born.”

A moment later Riley found himself on the other side of a closed bedroom door. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he headed back down the hall.

He found Noah and Mrs. Flanagan in the parlor.

His nephew immediately popped up and rushed to him. “What did the doctor say? Is Pru gonna be okay?”

Realizing Noah was remembering his mother's illness and death, Riley placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. “Of course she is. You heard Miss Vickers—kids get sick all the time.”

Noah seemed only partially reassured.

Mrs. Flanagan spoke up then. “Your uncle is correct. I remember when my own two boys were little, they would get fevers and chills so often I near wore a path to Dr. Pratt's place. And my John has grown up to be a fine soldier in the army.”

“Your son's a soldier?” Noah crossed back to Mrs. Flanagan.

She nodded. “A lieutenant, actually.”

“I have some tin soldiers.”

“Do you now. John had a set, as well.”

As Mrs. Flanagan began to regale Noah with stories of some of her sons' exploits, Riley caught her eye and mouthed a heartfelt thank-you. The woman's expression softened for a moment as she nodded, then she resumed her conversation with his nephew.

While the two talked, Riley moved to the window and stared out into the shadowy dusk, trying to fight off panic. He should have been paying closer attention, should have noticed sooner that something was wrong. He'd promised the children's mother he'd look after them and keep them safe. What if there was something seriously wrong with Pru?

Father above, please keep Pru safe. She's just a little girl and she's already been through so much. I know dragging them from town to town is not good for them and it might even be what caused this illness she has. But I'm doing the best that I can to keep 'em safe. If there's another way, please show it to me. But please, don't take her from us.

It occurred to him it was providence that he'd been here tonight. He would have managed on his own, of course—got the hotel clerk to send for the doctor. But the way the two women had immediately taken charge—seeing that Pru was made comfortable, fetching the doctor, keeping Noah entertained and distracted—had been a true blessing.

Miss Vickers, especially, had a comforting presence, a way of calming the children and setting them at ease.

Dr. Pratt finally stepped into the room, with Miss Vickers at his side, and Riley immediately came to attention, moving toward them. “How is she?”

He spied Miss Vickers's sympathetic expression, but something in her eyes communicated that it would all be okay.

A heartbeat later, the doctor gave him the diagnosis. “She has chicken pox.”

Chapter Six

R
iley grabbed the arm of the chair beside him and blindly sat down. Chicken pox! He vaguely remembered having that himself as a kid. He'd pulled through just fine. And neither Dr. Pratt nor Miss Vickers seemed unduly concerned, so that was a good sign.

A number of emotions washed over him—relief that it wasn't something worse, panic over the thought of nursing a sick child, worry over what this would do to his plans to move on quickly.

He looked up at the doctor, trying to pull his thoughts together. Then, mindful of Noah, he stood and crossed to the hall. To his relief, Mrs. Flanagan said something to his nephew, pulling the boy's attention from the doctor.

“How serious is it?” Riley asked.

“Most children get chicken pox at some point and come though unscathed, except for a few scars as souvenirs.”

Relieved for at least this glimmer of good news, he let out a long breath. “And you're sure that's what it is?”

Dr. Pratt nodded. “I've seen this countless times before. Besides, there are a few spots already forming on her back and neck.” He gave Riley a penetrating look. “You
will
need to make certain your niece is closely cared for until she recovers. And you should be prepared for your nephew to start exhibiting signs in a few days, as well. The disease is easily spread from child to child. Which also means you should keep the children isolated as much as possible.”

Riley jammed his fists in his pockets, feeling as if he was in way over his head. He didn't know anything about caring for sick kids. So far he'd only had to contend with sniffles and cuts and scrapes.

The doctor continued. “Your niece is a very sick little girl right now, but don't worry. In a week or so, she'll be good as new.”

“A week!”

“Actually, it'll probably be a little longer. It usually takes ten days to two weeks for chicken pox to run its course.” He eyed Riley sympathetically. “And then there is your nephew.”

Riley felt the panic tighten in his chest. Caring for two sick kids, for at least two weeks—how in the world was he going to manage that?

Dr. Pratt glanced Mrs. Flanagan's way and raised his voice to carry across the room. “How are you doing, Irene? Is that leg giving you any more trouble?”

The widow flapped a hand irritably. “I'm fine. If I need you fussing around me, Grover Pratt, I'll let you know.”

The doctor gave her a long-suffering look, then turned back to Riley. “I've left instructions with Cassie Lynn on how to care for your niece, as well as a lotion to relieve some of the itching, and something for fever. I'm afraid that's all we can do for now. If there's anything else you need me for, you know where to find me.”

“Yes, sir. And thank you.” Then Riley straightened. “How much do I owe you for the visit and the medicines?”

“We can discuss that later. Right now you have sick children to see to.”

Miss Vickers gave the doctor a smile. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Dr. Pratt. Sorry I had to interrupt your supper. Please let me make it up to you by sending some pie home for you and Mrs. Pratt.”

The doctor gave her an appreciative smile. “You certainly don't have to twist my arm.”

Riley followed them down the hall, wanting to ask the doctor another question. “Is there any chance at all we'll be ready to travel in less than two weeks?”

The doctor gave him a pointed look. “I'm sorry if it messes up your plans, son, but I wouldn't recommend taking those kids out in public until the blisters are gone. You don't want to be spreading it to others, do you?”

“No, of course not.” So that was that. But if he missed the meeting with Claypool and Dixon in Tyler on Wednesday, he might not get another chance. And Dixon could hold the key to getting Guy put away for good.

Riley waited while Miss Vickers served up a generous portion of pie for the physician and escorted him out the back door.

Then she turned back to Riley with a bracing smile. “I know this seems overwhelming right now, but I assure you, you'll get through it okay.”

“I appreciate your faith in my abilities.” He hadn't been able to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, which wasn't fair to her. “And thank you, too, for all you've done.” This time his tone was much more sincere.

Miss Vickers waved a hand dismissively. “All I did was fetch the doctor.” She eyed him thoughtfully. “It seems you'll be spending more time here in Turnabout than you'd planned. I hope it's not too inconvenient.”

It was, but that wasn't her fault. He shrugged. “No point in railing against what can't be changed.”

“That's a very practical attitude.”

If she only knew how badly he wanted to kick and scream over this setback right now. “I'm just thankful that, if it had to happen, it happened here where we'd already made such gracious friends. I don't like to think what might have happened if we'd still been aboard the train or had stopped in a town where we didn't know anyone.”

By this time they'd made it back to the parlor, and he turned to Noah. “We'd better be heading to the hotel. You say your goodbyes while I fetch Pru.”

He saw Miss Vickers open her mouth to protest, but Mrs. Flanagan beat her to the punch.

“Absolutely not,” the woman said forcefully. “There is no sense in disturbing that child, especially when she needs her rest. She will spend the night right where she is.”

That he couldn't allow. “But—”

“Mrs. Flanagan is correct,” Miss Vickers said in a milder tone. “Dr. Pratt gave her a liquid for her fever that also made her drowsy. She was half-asleep by the time he finished his examination.” She glanced toward his nephew. “In fact, since Noah's already been exposed, he could take the second bed in that room and sleep here tonight, as well.” She gave Riley a be-reasonable look. “Dr. Pratt
did
say to keep them both isolated.”

Riley rubbed his jaw while he thought over the offer. It was downright embarrassing just how tempted he was to let them take this responsibility from him, even if it was just for one night. But he had promises to keep. “I appreciate what you ladies are offering, but I think it's best I keep the kids with me.”

* * *

Cassie Lynn admired the man's sense of responsibility, but one could carry that a little too far. “Have you ever nursed children through something like this?”

He grimaced, but his stubborn demeanor didn't soften. “No, but I reckon this won't be the last time I find myself in this situation. Best I go ahead and figure it out now while I have some folks I can count on to help me if I get in a bind.”

“That's very admirable and responsible of you. But it will be a whole lot easier for us to help you if the kids are here. They'll be closer to Doc Pratt, too, if you should need his services.” When Mr. Walker still didn't look convinced, she played her trump card. “Unless you don't trust us with the children?”

It wasn't a fair question, and she knew it. After all, what could he say?

“No, of course I trust you.” He rubbed his jaw. “It's just—”

Mrs. Flanagan didn't let him finish that thought. “That's settled then.” She shifted in her chair. “The children will stay here while you get some rest back at the hotel—believe me, you'll need it. We'll discuss long-term arrangements in the morning.”

“Long-term—”

Cassie Lynn saw the concern on his face and intervened by changing the subject. “By the way, Pru mentioned something about a Bitsy. Does that mean something to you?”

He nodded. “It's her doll. She never goes to bed without her.” He seemed to gather his thoughts as he turned to his nephew. “What do you say, buddy? Are you okay with staying here tonight and keeping Pru company?”

Cassie Lynn was pleased. As much as he seemed to be uncomfortable with being separated from the children, he was doing a good job of not letting that show to his nephew.

Noah nodded. “Don't worry, Uncle Riley, I'll look out for her tonight.”

Mr. Walker gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “I know you will.”

Then he turned back to her. “I'll go check in on Pru and then head back to the hotel to fetch Bitsy and a few other things they'll need tonight.”

Once Mr. Walker made his exit, Cassie Lynn glanced back at the boy and saw a confused look on his face. “Is something the matter, Noah?”

He nodded, his nose wrinkling in puzzlement. “I was just wondering... The doctor said Pru has chicken pox, but we haven't been around any chickens lately.”

Cassie Lynn gave him a grin. “You don't get chicken pox from being around chickens.” Then she lifted her hands in an it-makes-no-sense gesture. “I don't know why it's called that. It
is
kind of a silly name for an illness, isn't it?”

She suddenly snapped her fingers. “You know what? I just realized that with all this excitement, we never had dessert. How about I fix you and Mrs. Flanagan each a piece of that cherry pie I baked earlier, and you can eat it while I'm cleaning up the supper dishes. Would you like that?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Then Noah turned serious. “But if you need help with the dishes, I can do that first.”

It appeared the boy had been taught his manners. “Thank you, Noah, that's very kind. But you're our guest, and it would hurt my feelings if you didn't try out that pie I baked just for you and your family.”

With a nod, the boy happily moved to the table.

As Cassie Lynn carried a load of dishes to the kitchen, she pondered what impact this unexpected situation would have on her plans.

First she'd learned Mr. Walker was not going to settle in Turnabout, which took him out of the running for a potential husband. Then, in a twist, it turned out that he and his charges were not only going to remain in Turnabout for a couple weeks, but they were most likely going to be spending most of that time here at Mrs. Flanagan's place.

Of course, Mr. Walker still wasn't a candidate. Problem was, could Cassie Lynn effectively look for another man with the extra workload she now had? Not to mention the extra distraction, no matter how pleasant that distraction might be...

On the other hand, it seemed Mr. Walker's plans were rather loose. Could he perhaps develop a fondness for Turnabout during the time he was here?

Then she grimaced. Why did her wayward mind keep trying to add Mr. Walker to her husband list? She needed to accept he wasn't a candidate and move on.

Didn't she?

* * *

Riley stepped into his hotel room and began gathering up the few things the kids would need for an overnight stay. The first thing he grabbed was Bitsy. He studied the cloth doll and winced over how bedraggled it had become since his sister-in-law's death. Just one more sign that he was not as observant about the kids' everyday needs as he should be.

Then he found the few items of clothing they'd need and stuffed them all in a carpetbag.

He didn't like this arrangement, not one bit. The kids were his responsibility, not that of the ladies. And while they seemed nice enough, what did he really know about them? Other than that Miss Vickers was pretty and sweet and could cook better than his ma? And that Mrs. Flanagan had a sharp manner but seemed well-meaning at heart.

Of course, one could never count on outward appearances and first impressions. He just had to look to his stepfather and stepbrother to learn the truth of that.

Then there was the lady in Kansas City he'd hired to look after the kids while he worked. She'd seemed responsible enough, but she'd ended up not only neglecting her charges, but absconding with a necklace that had belonged to Pru's mother.

No, trust was something he didn't give lightly.

On the other hand, even he didn't think the kids would be in any real danger with the ladies for one night. Apparently, unlike him, they'd both dealt with sick kids before and knew how to take care of them. And it was unlikely Guy would show up in the middle of the night.

Riley had to admit he wasn't opposed to seeing more of Miss Vickers. Not that it could go anywhere, but still, it was nice spending time in her company.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. He couldn't afford to make connections of that sort, not while he and the children were still on the run.

Perhaps a good night's sleep would help him see matters more clearly in the morning.