A Temporary Family Page 16

  “Good. Let the games begin.”

  Elizabeth crossed her chubby arms and pouted. “I go with No-wan.”

  “Not today,” Tilly said firmly. “You can stay with Captain Ronald, or you can go with your sisters.”

  A frown puckered her brow. “I stay.”

  Captain Ronald sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “Be good for the captain,” Tilly ordered. “Or no cake after supper.”

  Elizabeth’s gaze flicked between the counter and the captain. “I be good.”

  “I thought so.”

  Tilly gathered herself. “Let’s go.”

  With a firm grip on the plate, Tilly led the girls across the street toward the undertaker’s house. She climbed shallow stairs to the front door and gave a firm knock.

  A moment later, Charlie answered.

  “Whaddya want?” he demanded.

  Tilly wrinkled her nose at the acrid scents of pipe tobacco, whiskey and unwashed male. “We’ve brought you some cake.”

  “Huh?” He scratched behind his ear. “You trying to poison us or something?”

  Tilly glared at him. “No. I am not trying to poison you.”

  “You take a bite.”

  “Who is it?” a voice called from the recesses of the house.

  “They brung us cake,” Charlie shouted back.

  Tilly broke off a large chunk and stuffed the piece in her mouth. “There,” she said, her voice muffled over the bite. “Are you happy? We aren’t poisoning you.”

  Dakota Red appeared behind his brother. “Let her in, Charlie. I’m hungry.”

  Tilly carefully stepped over the heap of garbage blocking the corridor. The stench of smoke grew stronger and she stifled a cough. The dining room table was littered with empty bottles, discarded drinking glasses, playing cards and plates full of ashes.

  Loath to touch anything, she tucked her elbows against her sides. “I’ve brought cake.”

  “Set it on the table,” Dakota ordered, the chewed stub of a cigar protruding from his mouth. “Only half? Where’s the other half?”

  “The girls are eating the other half.”

  “Next time, bring the whole cake. I don’t like sharing.”

  Tilly plastered a grin on her face. “Certainly.” She hoped they spent a good long time in jail when this was all over. “I’ll see you men at supper.”

  She slid the plate over the clearest spot on the table—a pile of discarded playing cards.

  Carefully picking up her steps over the rubble, she made her way toward the door. Her heart pounded so loudly against her ribs, she feared they’d hear the racket. She sincerely hoped that Nolan had had enough time to acquire the tools he needed, because she couldn’t stomach the stench in the house any longer.

  They’d have to burn the building to the ground at this rate. There was no other way of cleaning out the filth. A mouse scuttled along the wall, and she shrieked and scooted away. If they had to distract the men with dessert in the future, she was leaving the cake on the porch stoop.

  Once outside, she paused at the bottom of the steps. Gripping the railing, she bent at the waist, then took a few heaving breaths of fresh air.

  She straightened and turned, but a hand caught her around the wrist.

  Charlie loomed over her. He bent forward and she strained away, her back dug into the railing.

  The outlaw leered. “Ain’t you got something else for good ol’ Charlie?”

  * * *

  Nolan dropped the tools and wiped the sweat from his brow. He’d loaded up his supplies and scrubbed away the chalk marks. Since the barn was on the opposite end of town, he’d sprinted the distance.

  The girls jumped rope in the center of the street between the livery and the stagecoach relay station.

  Halfway back to the station, he heard the call. “Olly, olly, oxen free!”

  After hollering their warning, as agreed upon in advance, they dutifully dashed toward the safety of the relay station.

  Nolan broke into a sprint again.

  Charlie had Tilly bent over the railing.

  Nolan added a burst of speed and launched himself at the outlaw. Caught by surprise, Charlie lost his balance. The two of them tumbled onto the street. Charlie came up swinging. Nolan ducked the first blow. He let the second blow catch him in the jaw. Charlie paused to savor his hit, and Nolan used the distraction to his advantage.

  He caught Charlie beneath the chin with a left hook, then pummeled him with his right fist. The outlaw lurched and collapsed backward on the stairs.

  Snyder and Dakota Red rushed through the doorway.

  From his slumped position, Charlie yanked his sidearm from his holster. “That’s it, stagecoach man. Now I’m going to kill ya.”

  A strange calm descended over Nolan. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He’d faced death more than once in his life, and he was ready. He prayed Charlie only wounded him. Nolan still had Tilly and the girls to think about. Either way, he was ready to face his fate.

  As Nolan braced for a bullet to rip through his flesh, Dakota Red kicked his brother’s hand. The gunshot sounded and Nolan flinched. The slug whizzed past his ear. A second later the gun skittered across the porch, out of reach of Charlie’s seeking hand.

  Enraged, Charlie clawed toward his weapon. He’d nearly wrapped his fingers around the barrel when Snyder wrestled him back.

  Tilly rushed over and patted Nolan’s chest. “Are you hit?”

  “No. The bullet went wide.”

  The full realization of his near miss had yet to set in, leaving him in numb shock. In his mind he replayed the moment Charlie’s finger tightened on the trigger. He’d nearly lost everything.

  Tilly collapsed against him, and he buried his nose in her hair.

  “Let me go.” Charlie struggled against Snyder’s hold. “Or I’ll kill you both.”

  “Stop it!” Dakota Red ordered. “Stop right now.”

  Charlie stilled.

  “You’re a fool,” Dakota Red snarled. “You’re going to ruin everything. Quit messing with that fellow’s wife, or he’s going to kill you. And I’m going to let him.”

  “You’re going to let him kill me, huh?” Charlie swiped at the streak of blood on his chin. “I suppose you think he’s more important to the plan than me.”

  “Yes, you idiot, he is more important to the plan than you. Near as I can tell, you’re becoming a liability. I’m done serving time because of you and your fool stunts.”

  Tilly trembled against him and Nolan grasped her hand. “Come along. Let’s leave them be.”

  “Not so fast,” Dakota Red called from the porch. “How’s that cavalry man doing?”

  “Not good,” Nolan replied. “He’s lost a lot of blood. I’m not certain if he’ll live through the night.”

  “If he dies, haul him down to the river and toss him in. I don’t want him stinking up the place.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Tilly grimaced and Nolan placed a hand on the small of her back. “Don’t listen to him,” he whispered. “They’re trying to scare us.”

  “They’re doing a good job.”

  “Let them fight amongst themselves.”

  He guided her away from the outlaws and led her toward the abandoned hotel, then shut the door behind them.

  She covered her face with her hands. “Those men are awful. They’re going to kill us when they discover the truth.”

  “At least we know for certain the cavalry isn’t coming.”

  “How?”

  “Dakota Red must know that no one is watching the ferry crossing anymore. He wouldn’t have told us to dump Captain Ronald in the river if he thought the cavalry might spot him.”

 
Her expression shifted. “You’re right.”

  “I’m guessing Perry already called off the watch.”

  “Were you able to retrieve the proper tools?”

  “I’ve got everything we need. The girls did well this afternoon. They signaled as soon as you walked out of the house.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I’m glad.”

  Nolan touched her hair. “I didn’t think Charlie would try anything with the other men around. We’ll have to figure out another way to distract them in the future.”

  “The longer this goes on, the bolder he gets. He followed me outside. I’m worried about the next two days. They’re getting restless and desperate. The place is an absolute pigsty.”

  “We stay with the plan. We let them think the captain is knocking at death’s door. That will make our escape easier.”

  Tilly’s expression turned wry. “For a deserted town, this place sure is getting crowded.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Your plan is going to work, right? It has to.”

  “It’ll work.”

  A sense of foreboding descended over Nolan. While some of them were bound to escape, there was no way this ended well for all of them.

  After facing Charlie’s bullet, he was more than ready to make whatever sacrifice was needed to save Tilly and the girls.

  He’d always wondered why he survived the war when so many other died. Now he had an answer.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For the first time in days, the sun peered through the clouds. In order to distract the girls, Tilly set up a tea party in the abandoned town square. They rummaged a table from the hotel, and brought supplies from the relay station.

  Once they’d set the table with a cheery cloth and chipped cups and saucers, they searched the surrounding area for wildflowers. They gathered daisies, black-eyed Susans, camphor and purple chicory.

  Caroline put together an arrangement in an empty milk bottle. Tilly set the second half of the lopsided cake in the center of the table near the flowers.

  The four of them took their seats around the cheery setting.

  Victoria grinned. “Mama never does things like this.”

  “Your mother is a very practical person,” Tilly said, shaking out her napkin. “I’m not certain tea parties in the outdoors are very practical.”

  Elizabeth forked a piece of cake and scattered crumbs down the front of her pinafore. Caroline grimaced and Tilly shot her a quelling glance.

  “We’re here to have a little fun. No criticizing each other.”

  “Yes, Aunt Tilly,” Caroline grumbled.

  Elizabeth took another messy bite and Caroline grimaced, but remained silent.

  Tilly raised the chipped teacup they’d scrounged from the abandoned restaurant. “To your mother.”

  The girls raised their glasses in unison.

  After taking a sip, Victoria reached for her slice of cake. “Mama cries a lot.”

  “I think she misses Papa,” Caroline said. “I miss Papa, too.”

  Tilly slumped in her seat. She hadn’t been very charitable in her thoughts about Walter recently, but he was the girls’ father, and they loved him. Eleanor had loved him, as well.

  Walter might have made some mistakes in his life, but he’d left behind a beautiful family. Perhaps Eleanor hadn’t been hiding her situation from Tilly out of spite, perhaps she’d been trying to protect her children from the truth. The girls deserved to remember him fondly.

  “What do you miss most about your father?” Tilly asked.

  “He let us do things that Mama didn’t approve of,” Victoria said. “He took us places Mama wouldn’t take us.”

  Caroline giggled. “Do you remember when he took us to the dancing hall? There were velvet drapes on the windows and a crystal chandelier. There was a man practicing his piano, and Papa made him stop singing the words.”

  Tilly raised an eyebrow. The song must not have been suitable for young ears. “That sounds like fun.”

  “Mama met him on the front porch with her finger waving,” Victoria said. “I don’t think she liked that he took us there.”

  “No harm done.” Tilly refilled her tea from the coffee pot they’d repurposed as a teakettle. “I’m sure the velvet curtains were very pretty.”

  Elizabeth held up her empty plate with both hands. “More.”

  “All right, one more piece,” Tilly said. “But that’s all.”

  Elizabeth eagerly accepted the cake and shoveled a piece into her mouth.

  Caroline shooed a fly from their flower arrangement. “I miss Mama. When will we see her again?”

  “Soon,” Tilly replied. “Very soon.”

  Lying to the girls sent her head throbbing. Nothing was certain for any of them.

  Caroline choked back a sob. “I want to go home.”

  Her heart breaking, Tilly stood and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “Soon, I promise. Very soon.”

  Victoria crossed her arms. “You’re ruining the tea party, crybaby.”

  Tilly straightened. “Be nice to your sister.”

  “How come I have to be nice to her?”

  “Because you’re stuck with her for the rest of your life, that’s why.”

  The two were stunned into silence before erupting into peals of laughter. Uncertain of the joke, but wanting to be a part of the fun, Elizabeth giggled.

  Tilly joined them. “You will meet many people in your life, but your sisters will always know you best, because they’ve known you the longest.”

  Following the brief spat, the rest of the tea party passed in smiles. For a moment Tilly forgot about everything that was happening. She forgot about the outlaws and New York City and the future.

  She forgot about everything except Nolan. He was never far from her thoughts.

  She stared at the half-eaten cake on her plate. Eleanor did know her best. She had quit on most things in her life. Tilly snorted softly. She was already quitting on the widows and orphans, and she hadn’t even packed her trunks.

  She toyed with her fork and recalled the kisses she’d shared with Nolan. Wouldn’t Eleanor be surprised at how she changed?

  Of all the things she’d quit on, she couldn’t imagine ever quitting on him.

  * * *

  The mood among the captives deteriorated rapidly. Though the outlaws kept mostly to themselves, their presence was a constant reminder of the ticking clock on the hostages’ fate. Each hour that passed took them further away from safety, and brought them closer to the ultimate danger. They endured days with constant rain and only the occasional break of sunlight through the relentless cloud cover, exacerbating the unrest.

  The previous evening, the outlaws had stayed up well into the night, and their antics had kept everyone awake. They’d even fired off gunshots at one point. The girls had proved remarkably stoic in the face of the disruption. According to the stories Nolan had heard from the girls, they’d passed far rowdier evenings in Virginia City. The adults were not as understanding of the disruptions.

  Bleary-eyed and annoyed, Nolan stumbled into the kitchen and discovered Tilly awake and making coffee. At least he hadn’t suffered a violent nightmare the previous evening, and for that he was grateful.

  Instead he’d dreamed of crowds of people. Hundreds of nameless, faceless people brushing against him. He’d spotted Tilly in the distance. She’d smiled and waved and he’d walked toward her. At every turn, someone had blocked his path, and she’d been swallowed by the crowd.

  In desperation, he’d shoved his way through the mob, pushing and elbowing the press of humanity. He’d caught a glimpse of her and followed her through an open door, only to discover he was locked in a tiny room with only a single candle in the corner. The flame flickered and disappear
ed, plunging him into darkness.

  He’d woken in a cold sweat, but at least he hadn’t thrashed or taken a swing at the shadows.

  He stood on the threshold, unwilling to disturb her. She’d donned the green calico dress she’d worn the day of her arrival. Humming softly, she tucked a lock of her chestnut hair behind one ear. A smile softened her expression, and she gazed into the distance with a contemplative look on her face.

  He held his breath, keeping quiet, leaving her to her pleasant thoughts. There’d been few enough enjoyable interludes for any of them lately. She was looking to the future, no doubt.

  Growing up, he’d always taken the few minutes before sunrise to plan the day ahead. He’d wake with the morning light, his hands threaded behind his head, his gaze fixed on the familiar crack in the ceiling. Looking back, he’d always been thinking and planning, experimenting with new farming methods and new seeds. He missed the familiar surge of anticipation. He even missed the arguments with his father.

  His father had been content with the old ways of doing things, while Nolan had been focused on the future. In a twist of irony, he’d gradually become his father—always looking backward. He desperately wanted to turn back the clock and become the man he’d been before.

  Following his release from the prison camp, he’d thought he could recapture the person he’d once been. He’d thought he could brush aside the ill effects from his internment as easily as brushing travel dust from a coat. Instead, the changes had settled into the very marrow of his bones. He’d grown around them. Like the old cottonwood tree on his farm that had threaded its roots around a misshapen boulder until the rock had all but disappeared from sight. He’d absorbed the changes the war had brought, and he couldn’t cut himself free without hacking off a part of himself, as well.

  He’d spent the past several years trying to free himself, yet he feared the transformation was too ingrained. Like the old cottonwood tree that was forever entwined with the boulder. There was no excising his past.

  Tilly stifled a yawn behind her hand. “The girls are already stirring. I’ll keep watch while you work on the boat.”

  Drawn to her, he moved closer. Over the past few days, he’d seen the beauty within her, and his first impression of her had altered. How could he have ever thought her looks were somewhere between plain and pretty? She was lovely. How had he missed her dazzling radiance at that first meeting?