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“Sasha.” Her gentle voice trembled.
Sasha? He stiffened at the peculiar name, but the girl stirred and turned to the familiar voice.
“Mama.” The thin little arms reached for the porcelain-skinned woman, who rushed forward.
“Where have you been? Where did you go?” In seconds the girl was out of his arms and into her mother’s. The woman kissed the girl’s dirty face and hair. “Don’t ever leave me again, understand? I was worried to death.”
Instead of answering, the girl burrowed her head into her mother’s perfectly formed shoulder.
The woman nodded at him, half in fear and half with gratitude. “Thank you. You have no idea how worried I...” She gulped and averted her gaze. “Thank you, truly.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
He wanted to tip that pretty face up so he could get a second look, but she kept her focus on her daughter.
“Yes, well, I should get home to fix supper.” She backed away a step.
“My name’s Wyatt Reed.” Now, why in blazes had he done that? He liked to keep contact with strangers to a minimum. Get in, do the job and get out. No emotional attachments.
“Charlotte Miller.” Her gaze darted up for a moment, and her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.
He wanted to touch that cheek to see if her skin was as soft as it looked, but beauties like her weren’t meant for men like him. Still, he couldn’t stop staring. A man didn’t see all that many pretty women on the frontier. Who could blame him for taking an extra-long look?
“Like I said, I should go home,” she murmured, again backing away.
He cleared his throat, reluctant to let her go. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where to find the mayor.” It was the only thing he could think to ask, even though he already knew where the town hall was located. “Evans, is it?”
“Yes, Mrs. Evans.” Her pretty little chin thrust out with pride.
“Mrs.?” Baxter hadn’t mentioned that little detail.
“Pauline Evans is a fine mayor, every bit as good as her late husband.” She started out strong defending her mayor, but with every word her certainty faltered, as if she’d lost her nerve.
For some reason, he wanted to encourage her. He dug around for a suitable response and found none. “I have business to take care of. Don’t suppose you’d know where I can find her?”
Again, she ducked her head. “You might try the town hall. If not there, then she’d be at home.”
“Town hall?” He pretended he didn’t know where it was to gain a few more seconds with her.
Her color deepened. “I’ll show you there. It’s on my way.”
A peculiar thrill ran through him. She would willingly walk with him through town? It had been ages since any woman walked in daylight with Wyatt Reed. And this one was a beauty. She’d match up to any ballroom belle back in Illinois.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered to Sasha.
Home. The old ache came back, hard and furious. Wyatt Reed wouldn’t find home until he set foot in San Francisco.
“Can you walk?” Charlotte murmured to Sasha, her face aglow with love for her daughter.
Sasha nodded solemnly and slid to the ground. “Go home.”
For the first time, Wyatt noticed the girl’s peculiar accent. Her voice had been too garbled by tears earlier, but now the foreign lilt was unmistakable. Sasha must not be Charlotte Miller’s natural daughter. A knot formed in his gut. That meant she could be one of the orphans.
His simple job just got a whole lot more difficult.
Chapter Two
They found Mayor Pauline Evans huddled over the table at the front of the meeting hall with the Newfield banker, Curtis Brooks, at her side. Whatever they were discussing, it held their attention so thoroughly that they didn’t hear Charlotte and Wyatt enter the room.
The mayor stabbed her finger at a piece of paper. “It’s all detailed here, if you want to read it.”
Mr. Brooks, his dark hair lightly salted with gray, struggled to hold back a grin. “Now, Mrs. Evans, I’m not questioning how the project is being handled. That’s up to you. The bank sent me to supervise the distribution of your town’s loan—nothing more. And from what I can see, you’re doing a fine job with the chore groups and the distribution of the funds. The bank simply needs a report of expenditures, which I see you have right here.” He slipped the paper away from the mayor. “Now, as to the matter of young Master Liam.”
“I believe we’re agreed on that.”
Charlotte felt like she was intruding on private business. Yesterday, Liam McLoughlin, one of the orphans, had run away after Beatrice Ward called him a thief. The poor boy had hidden in a cave until Sheriff Wright found him. Since both the mayor and Mr. Brooks served on the orphan selection committee, they must be discussing what action to take against Beatrice for causing such a fracas.
She motioned to Wyatt that they should come back later. Instead, he rapped on the door frame.
Mayor Evans and Mr. Brooks looked up, startled.
“Charlotte.” A smile sprang to Pauline’s lips. “What can I do for you?” The auburn-haired mayor hurried toward her with genuine warmth. “And Sasha, too.” The formidable woman’s handclasp and smile conveyed sympathy and something else. Worry? No, pity.
Of course Pauline pitied her. She knew the pain of widowhood. Robert Evans had been a fine man, an excellent mayor and a loving husband. His death following the flood had been a harsh blow to the town. Everyone had expected him to take charge of the rebuilding. Only a woman with Pauline’s will and determination could have fulfilled his dying request to take over as mayor.
“I’m not here for myself,” Charlotte said softly as Sasha clung to her skirts. She glanced at Wyatt, who waited in the doorway, hat in hands. “This is Mr. Wyatt Reed. He said he has business to discuss with you.”
Pauline looked genuinely surprised. Contrary to what Wyatt had implied, she must not have been expecting him. “Mr. Reed.”
“Mrs. Evans.” He stepped forward, his boots rapping on the plank floor. “I wonder if I might have a word with you.” He glanced at Charlotte and Mr. Brooks. “Alone.”
Though Charlotte understood that whatever he had to discuss was none of her affair, part of her hated to leave the man. He’d shown kindness to Sasha and had proven worthy of her daughter’s trust.
Mr. Brooks, however, took umbrage. “What is your business, Mr. Reed?” He positioned himself beside Pauline, clearly ready to defend her.
Pauline saw it differently. “I am fully capable of handling city business on my own.” Her curt response left no room for argument. “Your bank might have loaned us money to rebuild, but it does not have any place in council chambers.”
Curtis Brooks, thoroughly chastened, left any protest unspoken. Bowing stiffly, he begged his leave and departed.
Charlotte had to go, too. She cast a shy smile at Wyatt and Pauline. “I should get Sasha’s supper.” Then she left the meeting room.
In the vestibule, she stopped to straighten Sasha’s dress. Rising, she spotted a notice tacked to the wall. In the poor light she could just make out that the orphan selection committee was meeting tomorrow. Maybe someone had stepped forward to take one of the remaining four children. If Pauline removed Beatrice from the committee, more people might step forward. At least there wouldn’t always be someone pointing out each child’s flaws.
Just thinking of the way Beatrice had acted when families first came forward to take in the children made Charlotte fume. If only she could take in more children... But her resources were limited since Charles’s death, and she doubted even a selection committee without Beatrice Ward would entrust another orphan to her.
“I’ve come from Greenville,” she heard Wyatt Reed say.
Charlotte knew she shouldn’t listen, but his voice carried so clearly that she could hardly avoid hearing what he said. She glanced at the door. To leave, she had to cross the entrance to the hall, which would make it clear she’d overheard them. Best to linger here until an opportune moment and then slip away.
“A prominent citizen hired me to find out why the orphans didn’t arrive there as promised.” His words sent a prickle of unease up her spine.
She leaned a little forward for a better view and saw Pauline’s elbow jerk in irritation.
Still, the mayor’s response was calm and collected. “Which prominent citizen?”
Wyatt hesitated long enough that she wondered if he wasn’t supposed to reveal the answer. “Mr. Felix Baxter, but he’s just the one who hired me. He’s acting on the town’s behalf. They’re wondering why the children have been delayed.”
“I believe Miss Sterling wired Greenville about the situation immediately after arriving in Evans Grove. She needed to await instructions from the New York office after the train robbery forced them to stop here.”
Charlotte pressed her hands to Sasha’s ears at the mention of the train robbery. Holly had told Charlotte how the robbers waved guns and crowded aside Miss Sterling—one of the agents from the Orphan Salvation Society—and the orphans in their quest to steal the loan money Holly and Mr. Brooks had brought from Newfield to rebuild Evans Grove. Thanks to Holly’s quick thinking and the orphan boy Liam’s bravery, Sheriff Wright had been alerted in time to capture the robbers. Unfortunately, their victory had come at a terrible price.
“I wasn’t told all the details, ma’am,” Wyatt was saying, “but I understand the Orphan Salvation Society sends two agents with the children. If Miss Sterling was indisposed, couldn’t the other agent have escorted the children to Greenville?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Arlington was shot during the robbery and died before Doctor Simpson could treat him. Since he was the senior agent, Miss Sterling felt she couldn’t in good conscience move forward without the Society’s counsel.” Mayor Evans wrapped up her argument. “As you can see, there was no one available to escort the children to Greenville.”
“Maybe not at the time, but it’s been two weeks,” Wyatt pressed. “Surely Miss Sterling has recovered and gotten her orders from the Society by now.”
“She has, and they accepted our offer to place the orphans here in Evans Grove. So you see, there’s no need for an escort. The children will be staying.”
“No, ma’am, I’m afraid they won’t. The Orphan Salvation Society had a prior agreement with Greenville, and I aim to see that they deliver on the terms. They can’t go changing their minds halfway through.”
“The Orphan Salvation Society is the children’s caretaker,” the mayor reminded him.
“That is not my point. They already had an agreement. Those children are supposed to go to Greenville. Now, if there’s no one to escort the orphans there, I’ll take them myself. There are eight, I believe.” Wyatt Reed’s words shot through her.
All eight? Charlotte gasped and clutched Sasha to her side. He would take her daughter away from her?
Never!
Without the slightest concern of being overheard, she scooped up Sasha and fled the building.
* * *
Wyatt heard the gasp and turned in time to see a shadow of black flit across the doorway. Mrs. Miller. She must have heard every word.
If the mayor saw her, she gave no indication. “Several of the children have already been placed. Surely the citizens of Greenville would not want to tear children away from their new families.” A triumphant smile slid into place. “For instance, Mrs. Miller—the woman who brought you here—took in Sasha Petrov.”
So Sasha was one of the orphans. An icy finger of doubt slid into his well-constructed plan. Focus, Reed. You need that money to get to San Francisco. He took a deep breath. The mayor said several of the children, not all.
“How many?” he said between his teeth.
“How many what?” she asked cheerfully.
So, she would play a game, would she? “How many of the orphans are already taken?”
She hesitated, as if counting. “Four of the eight, but other families are in the process of selecting children. One of the boys was just claimed, pending the selection committee’s approval. I expect the rest will be placed soon.”
Wyatt quickly calculated his options. If he insisted on taking all eight, Evans Grove would fight him. The new parents would fight him. That orphan society might fight him. He could lose all eight and the rest of his fee. Better to settle for something.
He stared down the mayor. “But only four are now placed.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “At this moment, but as I said—”
“The four can stay.”
Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
“The four children who’ve already been taken can stay, but the rest go with me to Greenville tomorrow.”
The mayor raised herself to her full height, completely in control of her emotions, which at this moment indicated she would not budge one bit on this subject. “It is late, Mr. Reed. I suggest we continue this conversation tomorrow afternoon with the entire selection committee present.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow afternoon.” The woman’s firm command was beginning to irritate him. “The train passes the Evans Grove whistle-stop at noon. I’ll need to arrange in advance for the train to stop. Let’s make it a morning meeting. Say nine o’clock.”
Her smile faded, but just for an instant. “The committee members do have businesses to operate. One of the members, our schoolteacher Miss Sanders, will need to arrange for someone to watch her class. In truth, Mr. Reed, tomorrow evening would be best.”
He had to give her credit for quick thinking. She’d managed to push the time even later. At this rate, he wouldn’t be out of Evans Grove until Saturday.
He pushed back. “Ten o’clock, Mayor. In the morning. No later. I expect to put those children on the noon train to Greenville tomorrow. Miss Sterling may accompany them if she wishes.” It seemed a generous concession at this point.
“That is up to her,” the mayor said stiffly, “but I will convey your demands—and your offer—at once.”
He nodded, and picked up his hat. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mayor.”
“Ten o’clock, Mr. Reed.” Her words were tough, but she looked worried.
She should be. Wyatt Reed always got his man.
* * *
Even after feeding Sasha, Charlotte still quaked with fear. What could she do? Where could she go? Who would help her? Since Charles’s death, life had been filled with uncertainty, but never as much as right now.
She couldn’t lose Sasha. The little girl meant everything to her. But now Wyatt Reed was trying to take her away. She had to do something.
The sun’s waning rays illuminated the Bible sitting on the trestle table. Charlotte ran her fingers over the leather binding. God’s Word had brought her comfort in the past. It helped her understand the loss of her parents and Charles, but could it gird her for the loss of her daughter, too?
“Mama?” Sasha’s voice trembled, and Charlotte realized the little girl had seen her tears and was frightened.
She blinked away the moisture and folded her arms around Sasha. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”
Still, the girl shook, and a sob wrenched out.
Charlotte smoothed her hair. “Look at me, dearest.” When the girl finally lifted liquid eyes to her, she smiled with more confidence than she felt. “Everything will be fine. Understand? I love you, and I will always love you. You’re my little girl, my forever little girl.”
Unable to hold back the tears any longer, Charlotte hugged Sasha close and kissed her repeatedly until the trembling passed. She must do something to cheer Sasha.
Holding her at arm’s length, Charlotte asked, “Would you like a new doll?”
Sasha’s eyes brightened. Clearly, the promise of a doll had distracted the little girl. Charlotte pulled some blue muslin from the bottom of her trunk. “Won’t this make a pretty dress for her? She’ll have black hair, like you, and blue eyes. Would you like that?”
