Tidewater Inn (44 page)

“On your knees, children.” She sank to the floor. “We must pray.”

LUCY PREPARED THE last of the beef in a thin stew for her brother and sister. She picked at a piece of dry bread and watched them eat. She'd always risen to the challenge, but tonight all she wanted to do was climb onto her cot and pull the covers over her head. The task appeared overwhelming and she was tired, so tired.

There was a rap on the front door, and she rose from the table to answer it. A glimpse through the window to the porch made her stomach plunge. Albert, Catherine's
friend
, was standing at the door. She wanted to throw the bolt and ignore the summons, but she forced herself to open the door.

His gaze skewered her. “Miss Lucy. You look lovely today.”

His smile made her feel unclean. “What do you want?” She peered past his shoulder to the vehicle in the wash of gaslight, but no one was in the buggy that waited in the street.

He tipped his hat up with a finger. “Your mother sent me by for Eileen. If you'll just get her things together, we'll be off.”

She blocked his entrance with her body. “I have no way of knowing if what you're saying is true.” She couldn't turn her little sister over to this man. “I find it odd that you don't ask for Jed as well.”

“I'm sure Catherine will want him eventually too, but right now, she wants Eileen.”

Lucy tensed, her fingers on the door. “Then why is she not here herself to claim her daughter?”

His smile twisted to a snarl and he stepped toward the doorway, but Lucy slammed the door before he could block it. She threw the lock. “Go away!”

His shoulder hit the door, and it shuddered. “Open up,” he growled.

The wood vibrated against her, and she held her breath.
Please let it hold
. Eileen had left the table and was hiding her face in Lucy's skirt. Lucy touched the top of her sister's soft hair. Staring at the lock, she prayed again for it to hold. After a moment, the battering against the door stopped. She wanted to peek out the window, but she was afraid the sight of her face would inflame the man even more.

Eileen whimpered. “It's okay,” Lucy said in a soft voice. “I won't let him near you.”

“He scares me.” Eileen trembled against Lucy's skirt.

Lucy didn't dare admit the man terrified her as well. She had to be strong for Eileen and Jed. She glanced across the room and saw Jed with a rolling pin in his hand. “Check the back door,” she mouthed.

He hurried to the kitchen. When he returned a few moments later, he gave her a nod. Lucy dared a glimpse through the curtain. Albert paced along the porch. He glanced at the door, then to his buggy before heading down the steps.

“You haven't seen the last of me,” Albert shouted over his shoulder.

He lurched into his buggy. The whip came down on the horse's back, and the animal reared, then took off down the street. Albert glared back at the house as the buggy pulled away.

Lucy sagged against the window frame. He'd be back. She had only delayed the fellow. Next time Catherine might come too, and then what could be done? If Lucy refused to let Eileen go, Catherine would likely call the police.

Lucy's arms were leaden as she gathered the sobbing child in her arms and walked back to the table with her. “It's okay, he's gone, darling.” All they had was one another.

While Eileen finished her stew, Lucy thought about her options. She made a list of possible places to apply for work, but the likelihood of finding a position was slim. Many were unemployed in Wabash. Even if the town had a poorhouse, that wasn't an option now that a new law forbade children from residing there. Without a job, she would have to turn the children over to their mother or they would all end up on the street. So what was she to do?

Hiding her fear from the children, she took the dirty dishes to the dry sink. Putting water to boil, she stared out the window at the yard. A tire swing hung from the lone tree. This place was the only home Jed and Eileen had ever known, but they were bound to have to leave no matter what happened. If she accepted Mr. Stanton's offer, at least the children would have food to eat and a place to sleep.

The thought of marriage to a man she didn't know was fearful, but she would do anything to keep them all together. It seemed she had no choice.

T
WO

N
ate should have felt a sense of contentment and peace, but something was off tonight, and he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Standing in the corral, he went through the list of chores. The shapes of the cattle shifted on the darkening hillsides as they milled about. He'd checked the windmills and they were all pumping water, so the stock was hydrated. The chicken coop was locked up for the night. The horses were stabled and curried. Yet he struggled to relax the tense muscles of his shoulders.

He walked back to the barn and shoved the door along its tracks. The good scent of hay and horse rushed to his face as he stepped inside. He heard a sound behind him and turned, then saw Percy.

“Boss, supper is getting cold,” the cook said. “I called you twice.”

“I'm coming.”

“What's eatin' you? You look like a new calf spooked by a goat.”

There
. “Did you hear that?”

Percy tipped his head to the side. “Hear what?”

The noise came again. A sliding, shuffling sound. “Someone's in the back stall,” Nate whispered.

He pulled his gun and approached the stall. A figure burst from the shadows. The man leaped past Nate and darted out the open barn door. Nate ran after him. He caught a glimpse of the man's shirt as he vaulted around the corner of the barn. As he raced after him, Nate heard a jingle of horse tack. He rounded the barn in time to see the fellow mount his horse and ride off.

“Bring me a horse!” Nate ran toward the barn.

Percy was standing in the doorway, but at Nate's command, he ducked back inside. When Nate reached the barn, Percy was leading Whisper from his stall. Nate quickly saddled his horse and mounted, but by the time he got to where he'd last seen the intruder, there was no sign of the man.

His gut told him the man would head toward the road. Setting off in that direction, he chafed at the slow pace he had to take with the uneven ground. He didn't want to risk Whisper breaking a leg.

An hour later darkness had descended. He sat back in the saddle and looked down the hillside toward the road where the dim light of a lantern glowed by the darker shape of a buggy. The lantern swung in a man's hand as he stepped out to greet the rider who reined in at the sight of him. The light allowed Nate to recognize the man. Drew Larson.

He watched Larson talk to the intruder, and though Nate couldn't make out any words, there was no mistaking Larson's angry tone. Larson climbed into the buggy and took off. The other man followed on horseback. Had Larson hired the guy to poke around in the barn? It seemed likely. Deep in thought, Nate rode back to the Stars Above.

When he arrived at the ranch, he lit a lantern, then went to the stall where the fellow had been hiding. Holding the light aloft, he studied the space. One corner held a small pile of wood. Nate knelt and picked up one of the logs. The odor of kerosene was strong, and it wasn't from the lantern. The wood had been soaked in the stuff. Nate's gut clenched.

Did Larson hate them so much?

NATE RODE TO town and reported what he'd seen to the sheriff, who wrote it down with a bored expression and promised to look into it. Nate didn't believe a word of it. The man was lazy through and through. And a good friend of Larson's to boot.

Still disgruntled, Nate stalked down to the café, skirting the puddles in the stockyard. He paused to scrape the noisome muck from his boots before stepping into Emma's Café at the end of the street. Nate went to the only empty table on the opposite side of the dining room.

He'd no more than stretched his legs under the red-and-white tablecloth when Emma Croft appeared through the door to the kitchen. She was one of those ageless women who could have been forty. Her smooth olive skin held no wrinkles, but Nate knew for a fact that she'd come to the Red River area back when his dad was a young man. She had to be at least sixty. She didn't take any guff from the men, and most of the trail riders knew better than to say a smart-mouthed word to her.

She plucked the pencil from her hair bun as she came toward him. “Thought I'd see you today, young Stanton. Where's your daddy? I thought he and Paddy would be in today.”

“Due back from Chicago later this week.” Nate had always suspected Paddy O'Brien held a special place in Emma's affections, but he'd never had the nerve to ask. “Arranging a sale of our spring herd.”

The light in her eyes dimmed. “That so? Well, tell him when he gets back that I'll have a chocolate cake ready for him and Paddy.”

“They surely love those cakes of yours. I'll tell him.” He hid a grin. “And Paddy, too, when I see him.”

She put the pencil to her pad of paper. “What will you have?”

He ordered a roast beef dinner and a piece of that famous cake. “Emma, have you seen any strangers around town?” He described the man he'd found in his barn.

Emma frowned. “A fellow like that had lunch with Larson yesterday. Didn't catch his name.”

Nate pressed his lips together. More evidence, not that it would do any good to report it to the sheriff.

Emma sauntered back to the kitchen. The front door opened and Margaret O'Brien stepped inside. He lifted his hand and motioned to her.

A smile lifted her full lips when she saw him. “Nate, I didn't expect to see you here!” Dressed in a plain, heavy skirt and her battered cowboy hat, she hurried toward him.

He stood and pulled a chair out for her. “Where's your pa?” He thought about mentioning that Emma would be sorry he wasn't here, but he wasn't sure how she felt about her pa seeing a woman, so he said nothing.

“Home.”

“You came to town alone?”

She settled into the chair and took off her cowboy hat, revealing gleaming red hair. “I'm not some hysterical female who jumps at every shadow, Nate.”

He knew that well. His pa and hers had pressed them both to consider joining the two spreads. Maybe it was time to think about that. Margaret was a handsome woman, though he would have found it hard being married to her. She was a little intimidating. Not the kind of woman who would be wooed with flowery words and sweet talk. Discussions with her usually went to stock and horses.

He corralled his thoughts. “What brings you to town so late?”

She held his gaze. “I saw you come in. Pa's been on me to commence with pursuing marriage between our families.”

He choked on the swallow of coffee he'd just taken.

Her green eyes softened but her chin stayed up in a defiant gesture. “Pretty forward of me, isn't it? But we've been friends long enough for there to be no pretense between us. So I'm here to ask your intentions, Nate.”

His lungs constricted. “I—I haven't given it much thought, Margaret.”

She leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. “I reckon we're going to have to make a decision soon. Otherwise, my pa is going to be thrashing the bushes to find another landed suitor. Not that he'd have much luck. Most men seem to want tiny, helpless wives who can hang on their every word. That's not me.”

At least Margaret was up front about what she wanted. He couldn't say the same about most women he'd come in contact with. “If we're going to think about marriage, don't you think we should have some feelings for each other?”

She shrugged. “I like you fine, Nate. I'm sure you're no worse in the morning than Pa.”

He grinned. “I reckon we're going to have to think about it some.”

LUCY TOSSED AND turned on the narrow cot in the tiny parlor. A thin blade of moonlight slashed the floor and spread to the foot of the cot. If she could just climb that moonbeam and disappear . . . This burden was more than she could bear. God must have thought she could handle it or he wouldn't have allowed it. She was a strong woman and this would just make her stronger.