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A Temporary Family
A Temporary Family
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A Temporary Family

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“You should be very proud. It’s a very advanced age.”

Tilly stepped outside and glanced at the sky. A flotilla of angry clouds had formed along the horizon. Perfect. More rain. For the past week, there’d been nothing but rain, rain and more rain. The stagecoach had nearly gotten stuck more than once, and floating across the Niobrara River had been precarious against the swift tide.

Tilly paused midstride. A half a dozen cavalry officers on horseback had mustered in the clearing between the relay station and Main Street. Their uniforms might have been crisp and blue at one point, but the men were covered in a fine coat of trail dust. The gold braiding on their hats was frayed, and their brass buttons tarnished from wear.

“You didn’t tell us you had guests,” a voice drawled. “Be careful, West, or you’ll lose your reputation as a recluse.”

The man speaking was clearly the leader of the bunch. He leaned slightly forward, letting the reins of his horse droop. The officer was handsome, with a straight nose and a strong jaw highlighted by his bushy muttonchops.

“Didn’t have a choice,” Nolan said.

The officer smoothed one hand down the front of his coat. “Introduce me.”

Her gaze slid toward Mr. West. He stood with his feet braced apart and his arms crossed over his chest. Of the two men, she much preferred the clean-shaven stagecoach employee. He was too rugged to be strictly handsome. His jaw was too strong, his nose too aquiline and his mouth too hard for what passed for true masculine beauty. His hair might have been blond as a child, but had darkened to a tawny brown with age. Yet there was something compelling about him, a mystery in the depths of those hazel eyes. If she had more time here, she’d relish the challenge of solving the puzzle of his clipped answers and taciturn silence.

Except she wasn’t sticking around any longer than absolutely necessary, especially now that Eleanor was returning. Being under Eleanor’s thumb these past few days had only reinforced Tilly’s decision. She was heartily sick of always being judged and found lacking.

Following the end of the war, when her father’s law clerks had returned, the work she’d done in their absence had been gradually removed from her oversight. She was bored and restless.

The cavalry officer grinned at her, and touched the brim of his hat. “Captain Ronald, miss. At your disposal.”

Tilly plastered a cheerful look on her face. His attention was less flattering than perfunctory. If Eleanor was here, she knew from experience that he’d hardly spare her a glance.

“Pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’m Miss Hargreaves.”

“Where’s Perry?” Nolan demanded.

At the growl in his voice, Tilly took an unconscious step back. Clearly there was animosity simmering between the two men.

“Perry is patrolling another area,” Captain Ronald said. “You’ll have to deal with me, much as it pains you.” He turned his attention toward Tilly. “Don’t you worry about the danger, ma’am. We’ve got extra patrols between here and Omaha. You’ll be as safe as a baby in a cradle.”

“Danger?” Shock rippled through Tilly. “What danger?”

“As I said, don’t you worry your pretty little head, ma’am.” The captain touched the yellow handkerchief knotted around his neck. “The mining company is sending a shipment of gold from Virginia City on one of the stagecoaches, and we’ve gotten word that Dakota Red and his brother are in the area. They busted out of jail and need money. Nothing for you to fret about, though. We’re sending out a decoy to trap them. When they hold up the wrong stagecoach, we’ll nab them.”

“That sounds rather dangerous.”

“Nothing my boys can’t handle.”

Tilly thought she heard a low guffaw, but when she turned toward Nolan, his face was impassive.

“Why the stagecoach?” Nolan demanded. “Why aren’t they shipping the gold on the riverboat?”

“The last riverboat sunk, and they haven’t replaced it yet. Why do you think your stagecoach traffic has doubled? There’s a lot happening in the world. You ought to get out of the wilderness once in a while, Nolan.”

The stagecoach man made a sound of disgust. “The mining company ought to wait on shipping that gold. That haul is as good as stolen.”

His conviction chilled Tilly. What if the outlaws robbed the stagecoach near Pyrite?

“I’m traveling with children.” She made a feeble gesture toward the relay station. “Are you certain it’s safe for us here?”

“Children?” The captain’s interest seemed to slacken at the mention of her nieces. “Dakota Red and his brother were spotted on the other side of the river. There’s only one place to cross, which means they can’t travel south without one of my men spotting them. This relay station is the best place to be, given the circumstances. You’re safe under my watch.”

He added a self-satisfied grin that was probably meant to inspire her trust.

“Thank you, Captain Ronald.” She offered an overly bright smile in return. Since there was little chance of them meeting again, she might as well humor the man. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she trusted Nolan’s assessment of the situation more than the cavalry officer’s opinion. “I appreciate both your concern and the protection of your men.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.” His sat up straighter, puffing out his chest. “If those boys so much as sneeze, we’ll know.”

“I’m sure your men are more than capable.” Despite the captain’s assurances, a nagging sense of unease lingered. “I appreciate your vigilance.”

If something happened to the girls, she’d never forgive herself. Both her father and Eleanor had been frustrated by her irresponsibility in the past. Their criticism was exaggerated, though not entirely unfounded. She wasn’t exactly irresponsible, she was simply distracted easily. While the two of them could focus on one task to the exclusion of all else, Tilly preferred flitting from activity to activity. Her lack of commitment drove them to distraction.

“Aunt Tilly!” Victoria hollered from the doorway of the relay station. “You’d best come quick. Caroline is sick again.”

“Oh, dear. Duty calls, Captain Ronald.”

“Don’t let me keep you.” The captain touched the brim of his hat, a slight hint of distaste marring his handsome face. “We’ll scout the area. Those outlaws will be in custody in no time.”

“Much obliged, Captain,” Tilly said.

The captain signaled to his men, and the unit broke into a canter.

Tilly hastily returned inside. To her surprise, Mr. West was close on her heels.

Caroline had slumped over the table. Her arm was hooked over her head. “I feel worse, Aunt Tilly.”

“I gathered as much,” Tilly soothed.

Caroline was a replica of Eleanor at that age.

Because of their age difference, following the death of their mother, Eleanor had taken over the role of matriarch in the family. Eleanor had been a strict parent, stricter even than their father. Now the task of caring for Caroline fell to Tilly, though she was ill-suited for the role. She knew one thing for certain—she was going to be a far less severe guardian than Eleanor.

“I’ll fetch you some water,” Tilly said, uncertain how else to assist her niece.

She’d never been one to play house and care for dolls the way Eleanor had. She’d never been much for courting, either. Eleanor had always been the sister who attracted romantic attention, while Tilly had been the sister that men befriended. Usually in the hopes of getting closer to Eleanor.

Tilly had the uneasy feeling that her sister’s marriage had not been entirely happy. Though Eleanor had always denied any discontent, with each subsequent visit home, she’d become a shell of her former self. If the life Eleanor had been dreaming about since she was a child had done that to her, Tilly wanted no part of marriage. She refused to suffer the same fate as her sister.

“There’s a room in the back,” Mr. West said. “Caroline can rest there.”

Relief rushed through Tilly. “Thank you, Mr. West.”

“Call me Nolan.”

He scooped Caroline into his arms and carried her down the corridor. Grateful for his assistance, Tilly trailed after them. The room he’d chosen was sparsely furnished with only a bed and a small table, but the space was spotless. He rested Caroline on the counterpane.

Tilly touched his arm, and the muscles tensed beneath her fingers.

“Is she going to be all right?” she asked. “Do you think we should send for a doctor?”

“The nearest doctor is in the village of Yankton, and that’s a two-day ride. There’s a fellow who comes through town once in a while, but I never know when.” Nolan pressed the backs of his knuckles against Caroline’s forehead. “She’s not running a fever. It’s probably just something she ate.”

Bill Golden appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his grizzled face. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Tilly considered her options. Travel by stagecoach was uncomfortable in the best of circumstances. The air was stifling, the bumpy conditions grueling and the chance for rest all but impossible.

“I don’t think she can travel.” Tilly wrapped her arms around her midriff. “Can you wait until she’s better?”

“I’m afraid not.” Bill scratched his forehead. “This here is a mail coach. The mail has to go through. The passengers are secondary.”

“When is the next stagecoach?”

“Thursday.”

“We can’t wait until Thursday.”

“I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”

Tilly’s shoulders sagged.

Nolan scowled. “I can’t have a bunch of greenhorns underfoot.”

Her stomach knotted, and she pictured Eleanor’s disapproving frown. The simple task of boarding the stagecoach in Virginia City, Montana, and exiting once they arrived in Omaha, had suddenly become a whole lot more complicated.

She clasped her hands before her. “Surely you can stay an hour or two. I’m certain Caroline will be much improved by then. This town doesn’t appear fit for children.”

“She’s right.” Nolan set his chin in a stubborn line. “This lady has no business being here.”

Her spine stiffened. This lady? This lady?

The way he said the words made her sound singularly incompetent. She narrowed her gaze. At least Eleanor and her father had a basis for their criticism. She certainly hadn’t traveled all this way to take orders from a man who knew nothing about her capabilities. The stagecoach man had no foundation for the contempt in his voice.

“You don’t have a choice, Mr. West,” Tilly challenged. “If Caroline is unable to travel, we’re staying put, and that’s that.”

“I’m in charge.” The stagecoach man propped his hands on his lean hips. “And I’ll have the last say.”

Chapter Two (#ufab65135-16cc-540e-917c-60275d763e9a)

So much for being in charge.

The day following the arrival of his unexpected guests, Nolan glanced up from placing a harness on the peg in the livery. A scrape sounded and Victoria appeared in the opening of the livery doors. Her two dark braids rested against her shoulders, and her blue calico dress was clean and neat with a starched apron tied around her waist, an improvement over her younger sister.

Nolan brushed at the phantom blueberry stain on his knee.

The girl jammed her hands in the pockets of her apron, stretching the material taut. “Whatcha doin?”

“Oiling the harnesses.”

“How come?”

“Because dry leather cracks and breaks. Oiled leather is stronger.”

“What happens if the leather breaks?”

“The horses get hurt.”

“Can I help?”

“I’m finished,” Nolan said.

Victoria grasped the oil can. “What’s this?”

“Machine oil.” Nolan reached for the tin and replaced the base in the circle in he’d drawn on the workbench. “For machines.”

He nudged the handle until the tin faced north.

“Oh.” Victoria plucked a tool from the wall. “What’s this?”

“Pincers.” Nolan retrieved the tool and hooked the handle on the nail in the silhouette he’d drawn on the wall. “For shoeing horses.”

“Are you a blacksmith?”

“No. But sometimes a horse will throw a shoe on the trail. I can do some basic repairs.”

“It sure is quiet in this town.”

“I like quiet.”

“Hmph.” Victoria tapped her chin. “Do you have any matches? I want to light a fire.”

“Stay away from fire.” Nolan slid his hand over the box on his workbench. He surreptitiously stowed the matches in his pocket. “Even with the rain, the buildings along Main Street are nothing but dry tinder.”

“I just wondered.” Victoria shrugged. “Aunt Tilly found some oil lamps.”

“Where did she find them?”

“She and Elizabeth are exploring the town while Caroline sleeps.”

“Your aunt sure keeps busy.”

“Mama said that Aunt Tilly needs activity like some other folks need water or air.”

“You don’t say.”

He’d managed to cover his outburst the previous afternoon with relatively little notice. He’d set up a cot in the livery, and let his guests take over the relay station. Mostly he’d spent his time avoiding Miss Hargreaves. She had a look in her eye that didn’t bode well. She kept staring at him as though he was a knot she wanted to unravel. He wouldn’t let her get to him like she’d gotten to Bill.

“I like Aunt Tilly,” Victoria said, “but I miss my mama.”