In Search of a Groom

After a life of drudgery on her family’s farm, Cassie Lynn Vickers relishes her freedom working in town as a paid companion for feisty Mrs. Flanagan. When her father suddenly demands she come home, she has no choice. Unless she can find a husband. If only she could convince handsome town newcomer Riley Walker to marry her...

Riley is on the run. He’s desperate to keep his niece and nephew safe from his crooked half brother. But a delay in Turnabout, Texas, shows him everything he didn’t know he was missing: home, family—and Cassie Lynn. Can he find a way to become her Prince Charming...and build a real family with the children and Cassie Lynn?

“Can I help you up?”

Cassie Lynn blinked, coming back to herself, and quickly nodded. “Yes, thank you.” Hoping there was no visible sign of the warmth she felt climbing in her cheeks, she held out her hand.

He took it in his larger, work-callused one and placed his other hand behind her back. With surprisingly little effort the green-eyed stranger had her on her feet in no time. He stepped away once he was certain she was steady, and she found herself missing the gentle strength of his touch.

He continued to eye her cautiously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Cassie Lynn nodded as she busied herself dusting her skirt. It wasn’t often she found herself flustered this way. “Please don’t worry. I’ve taken worse falls tripping over my own feet.”

She studied him while trying not to appear to be nosy. There was something about the man that intrigued her. It wasn’t his vivid eyes, or his appearance, though that was appealing enough in a rugged, well-muscled sort of way.

No, it was something about his demeanor and bearing that commanded her attention.

WINNIE GRIGGS is the multipublished, award-winning author of historical (and occasionally contemporary) romances that focus on small towns, big hearts and amazing grace. She is also a list-maker and a lover of dragonflies, and holds an advanced degree in the art of procrastination. Winnie loves to hear from readers—you can connect with her on Facebook at Facebook.com/winniegriggs.author or email her at winnie@winniegriggs.com.

Texas Cinderella

Winnie Griggs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble.

—1 Peter 3:8

Dedicated to my fabulous agent, Michelle Grajkowski, who is always there for me and who never loses faith in me.

And to my wonderful writer friends who are always willing to help me brainstorm my way out of sticky plot scenarios—Amy, Christopher, Dustin and Renee.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Turnabout, Texas

August 1898

Cassie Lynn Vickers stopped at the doorway to the parlor and smiled at the woman seated in her wheelchair. “Mrs. Flanagan, I’m about to head out for my afternoon walk. I left a pitcher of lemonade and a slice of pie on the kitchen table. Is there anything else you need before I go?”

Her employer waved a hand dismissively. “Go on with you. You know I hate being fussed over.”

Cassie Lynn hid a smile. Mrs. Flanagan detested any reminder that she could no longer do for herself, at least not for the near future. She’d injured her leg in a fall two weeks ago and had been confined to a wheelchair ever since. That’s when the cantankerous widow had hired Cassie Lynn to act as her housekeeper and personal attendant.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said meekly. “And I’ll try not to tarry today. I have extra baking to do tonight.”

Cheered by the thought of her new enterprise, Cassie Lynn gave a final wave and headed for the front door.

But as soon as she stepped out on the porch and closed the door behind her, she paused. There was someone striding up the walk. That was odd—Mrs. Flanagan rarely received callers.

Cassie Lynn’s eyes widened in recognition. She’d know that slight limp and stiff-backed posture anywhere. It was her father. What was he doing here?

Although she’d seen him from time to time since she’d moved to town last December, it was the first time he’d deliberately sought her out. Fearing something was wrong, she quickly descended the porch steps, meeting her father halfway down the front walk.

“Hello, Pa.” She was breathless and tried to calm herself. “Is something the matter? Did something happen to one of the boys?” She had four brothers, three of them younger than her, and all still living with her father out on the remote farm.

He frowned disapprovingly. “Goodness, girl, there’s no need to get all in a fret. Your brothers are just fine.”

She let out a relieved breath, then gave her father a smile. Perhaps he’d come especially to check on her, after all. She set her market basket down and gave him a quick hug. “You’re looking well,” she said as she stepped back.

He hooked a thumb under his suspenders. “Comes from living a simple life filled with honest labor.”

“Yes, sir.” He’d always been a no-nonsense, unsentimental sort of man. Trying to ignore the little pinch of yearning for a softer greeting, she offered him a tentative smile. “I have some news.”

His brow went up at that and he gave her a keen glance. “And what might that be?”

To her surprise he seemed truly interested. Buoyed by that, she rushed to explain. “I’m going to start a bakery business. Mrs. Fulton over at the restaurant and Mrs. Dawson over at the sweet shop are both going to try my wares. And Mrs. Flanagan here is talking about partnering with me.” It was a modest start, but if things worked out, by the time Mrs. Flanagan no longer needed her help, Cassie Lynn might actually be able to make a go of this bakery idea. And then she would truly have established herself as part of the town, something she’d been striving for since she’d escaped her father’s farm nine months ago.

Her father was no longer smiling, though, and she found herself almost apologizing. “I know it’s not a lot, but in time it could grow to something big enough for me to make a good living from.”

Her voice trailed off as she saw the disappointment deepen on his face.

“I thought you might be wanting to tell me you’d found yourself a beau.” His tone made it clear she’d failed in some significant way. “I figured that was why you left home in the first place. After things didn’t work out with Hank Chandler, I assumed you were setting your sights on some other bachelor.”

When Verne, Cassie Lynn’s oldest brother, had married and brought his bride home to take over as lady of the house, Cassie Lynn had made her escape from the isolation and drudgery of her father’s farm and moved to town. At the time, Hank Chandler had been looking for a wife to help him raise the two children in his charge. For a while it had looked like she might just be that woman, but then she realized Mr. Chandler had fallen in love with the schoolteacher, and Cassie Lynn had pulled herself out of the running.

Not that she had really minded. Finding a husband had never been her reason for leaving the farm.

“I didn’t move to town to find a husband, Pa.” She struggled to keep her tone matter-of-fact. “I moved here to be around other people and to make a new life for myself.”

Her father dismissed her statement with an impatient wave of his hand. “And just what kind of life can a girl make for herself without a husband and young’uns?”

Cassie Lynn’s chest tightened as she realized that trying to explain her dreams to him was useless, that he would never understand. So instead of responding to his statement, she changed the subject. “Was there something you came here to see me about?”

Her father nodded. “Verne bought himself some land of his own to farm, and he and Dinah are planning to build a house on it and move out.”

Cassie Lynn smiled, genuinely pleased for her older brother. “Verne always loved working the land. He’ll do well.”

“That he will. But once he and his wife move away, that leaves me and your other brothers on our own.”

Her stomach clenched. She knew what was coming next, and she frantically searched her mind for a way to stave it off.

But her father pressed on. “I want you to come back home and take your place as lady of the house. Since it doesn’t look like you’re going to have a home and family of your own to care for anytime soon, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

No! She’d already escaped that life. She couldn’t return to that lonely drudgery. “I’ve made a commitment to take care of Mrs. Flanagan,” she protested, “and I can’t go back on my word. Surely you wouldn’t expect me to.”

“No, I suppose not. A Vickers’s word is never given lightly.” Her father rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How long does Doc Pratt say she’s gonna be stuck in that chair?”

“Probably another four or five weeks.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “Well then, that shouldn’t be a problem. Even if Verne is ready to move out sooner, I’m sure I can convince him to stay that long.”

Cassie Lynn steeled herself to take a stand. Her father couldn’t force her to return to the farm. “I didn’t say I would come home when I’m done here. I told you, I’m starting a bakery business.”

He frowned. “Of course you’ll come home. This town doesn’t need a baker—any housewife worth her salt can do her own baking. So there’s nothing here in town to hold you.” He eyed her sternly. “Me and your brothers work hard keeping that farm going—sunup to sundown most days. You don’t want us to have to cook our own meals and do all the housework, too, do you?”

“No, of course not. But—”

He gave a decisive nod. “Good. Then it’s agreed. I’ll expect you back when your work here is done.” And with a quick pat to her shoulder, her father departed, apparently assuming the subject was closed.

Cassie Lynn’s fists tightened at her sides as she watched him walk away. If her father had his way, she’d have only four or five weeks before her world drew in once more to the narrow confines of the isolated farm—the world she thought she’d escaped for good. She couldn’t let that happen.

How could her father expect her to meekly return home, as if she had no ambitions for her life? So what if she didn’t yet have a husband? She was only twenty-two! It wasn’t as if she was past marriageable age. Besides, what chance did she ever have of finding a man if she returned to the farm?

But how could she refuse her father when he was so determined? Especially when it was her fault that her mother was no longer around to fill that role.

Cassie Lynn picked up the basket and began to slowly walk down the sidewalk, trying to tamp down her panic and focus on finding a solution to this problem. She’d tried to reason with her father and she’d tried to stand against him, and neither tactic had been very effective. What did that leave?

The Good Lord commanded that children should honor their parents, and she certainly didn’t want to dishonor her father, but surely there was a way out of this without having to outright stand against him.

She wasn’t surprised that her father thought a woman’s only goal should be to look after the men in her life. It was how he’d treated her mother, after all. Cassie Lynn had never heard him, or her brothers, for that matter, utter a word of thanks for all her mother had done. And they’d certainly never extended her that courtesy, either, after her mother had passed.

She paused as an idea occurred to her. According to her father’s own words, if she had a husband, or at least a serious suitor, he wouldn’t have asked her to come home. So, perhaps that was her answer.

She just had to get herself a beau before her commitment to Mrs. Flanagan was completed.

* * *

Riley Walker stepped out of the Turnabout train depot, ushering his niece and nephew before him. This hadn’t been a planned stop, but the kids had gotten restless and a bit cranky after three days of travel, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to lay over here for a few days. After all, the meeting in Tyler wasn’t until next Wednesday morning, a whole week away.

Besides, his horse, River, was no doubt ready to escape the livestock car and have a chance to get some freedom to move about, as well. A quick look to his left showed Riley that the gray gelding was already being led off the train.

He turned to the kids and pointed to a bench near the depot door. “Sit over there while I see to River. Don’t move from this spot, understand?”

Ten-year-old Pru nodded and took her seven-year-old brother’s hand. Riley watched until she and Noah were seated, once again feeling his own inadequacy as guardian to these children. But they’d needed a protector when their mother died and so they’d been stuck with him.

He turned and quickly took possession of his horse, checking the animal carefully for any injuries he might have sustained on the trip. Satisfied, Riley led him to where the kids were seated.

“Ready? Let’s get River settled at the livery and then we’ll head over to the hotel.” He’d gotten directions to both establishments when he’d stepped inside the depot to make arrangements for their bags to be delivered to the hotel.

“How long can we stay here, Uncle Riley?” Noah asked.

Riley heard the hopeful note in the boy’s voice, and made a quick decision. “What do you say we stay through Sunday so we can all attend church service here? Would you like that?”

Noah nodded enthusiastically.

Riley turned to his niece. “What about you, Pru?”

She nodded, as well, though with more reserve than her brother. Pru was normally quiet and shy, but this listlessness was unusual. Was all the traveling they were doing starting to wear on her?

Fortunately, the livery stable was near the train station so they reached it quickly.

* * *

Cassie Lynn placed her now full shopping basket at her feet and leaned against the corral fence behind the livery stable.

She dug the apple slices from her pocket. Already the two resident horses were trotting over to see what she’d brought them today.

“Here you go, Duchess,” she crooned as she held out her hand and let the black mare lip two slices from her palm.

She laughed as a reddish brown mare tried to push Duchess aside. “Mind your manners, Scarlett, I have some for you, too.”

She gave Scarlett her treat. “I’ve had some excitement today, both good and bad,” she confided to the two mares as she stroked Scarlett’s muzzle. “The good news is that I’m moving forward on my bakery business.”

Cassie Lynn shifted to give Duchess her share of attention. “The bad news is that Pa wants me to go back to the farm and take care of him and my brothers.” She breathed a sigh. “I don’t want to do that, of course. So now I need to find me a husband.”

She gave both horses a final pat, then crossed her arms on the top rail and leaned into it. “I sure wish you gals could speak. I bet you’d be able to give me some good insights. I figure the way a man treats his animals is a good measure of his character.”

“Are you talking to the horses?”

Cassie Lynn turned her head to see a freckle-faced boy of six or seven eyeing her curiously.

“Of course. They’re friends of mine.” Then she smiled and stepped back from the corral fence. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we?”

The boy shook his head. “We just got to town a little while ago. I’m Noah.” As he stepped out of the shade of the livery, the sun highlighted a bit of copper mixed in with his blond hair.

“Glad to meet you, Noah. I’m Cassie Lynn.”

“My uncle Riley likes to talk to horses, too.”

“Sounds like a smart man.” She held out her last few apple slices and nodded toward the two mares. “Would you like to feed them?”

The boy smiled, displaying a gap where one of his front teeth should be, and took the slices. He eagerly stepped up on the second-from-the-bottom board of the fence so he could lean over the top rail. Fearlessly holding his hand out just as she had, Noah smiled as the black mare happily took the offering. “What’s her name?” he asked.

“Duchess.” Cassie Lynn moved beside the boy and propped a foot on the bottom board, concerned by his precarious perch. She rubbed the other mare’s neck. “And this here is Scarlett.”

She smiled as the boy stroked the mare’s muzzle. “I see you’ve done this before,” she said.

The boy nodded. “Uncle Riley has a real fine horse—a gray named River. He’s inside right now talking to Mr. Humphries about stabling him here.”

Well, at least she knew the boy wasn’t alone. Cassie Lynn patted Scarlett’s muzzle so the animal wouldn’t feel left out, then she leaned her elbows on the top rail again. “Are you visiting someone here or do you and your folks plan to settle down in Turnabout?”

The boy shook his head. “We don’t know anyone here. And I don’t have folks anymore. It’s just me, Pru and Uncle Riley.”

She absorbed the words, as well as his matter-of-fact tone. Before she could form a response, though, they were interrupted.

“Noah, what are you doing out here?”

At the sharply uttered question, Noah quickly turned, and in the process lost his footing. Cassie Lynn moved swiftly to stop his fall and ended up landing in the dirt on her backside with Noah on her lap.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up to see a man she didn’t know helping Noah stand up. But the concerned frown on his face was focused on her.

“I’m a bit dusty, but otherwise fine,” she said with a rueful smile.

He stooped down, studying her as if he didn’t quite believe her reassurances.

She met his gaze and found herself looking into the deepest, greenest eyes she’d ever seen.

Chapter Two

Cassie Lynn found herself entranced by the genuine concern and intelligence reflected in the newcomer’s expression. It made her temporarily forget that she was sitting in the dust and dirt of the livery yard.

“Can I help you up?”

She blinked, coming back to herself, and quickly nodded. “Yes, thank you.” Hoping there was no visible sign of the warmth she felt climbing in her cheeks, Cassie Lynn held out her hand.

He took it in his larger, work-callused one and she had the strangest feeling that she could hold on to that hand forever.

Then he placed his other hand behind her back, and with surprisingly little effort, the green-eyed stranger had her on her feet in no time. He stepped away once he was certain she was steady, and she found herself missing the protective strength of his touch.

He continued to eye her cautiously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Cassie Lynn nodded as she busied herself dusting off her skirt.

What was wrong with her? It wasn’t often she found herself flustered this way. “Please, don’t worry. I’ve taken worse falls tripping over my own feet.” She quickly turned to Noah. “How about you? Are you all right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks for catching me.”

She ruffled his hair. “Glad to help.” For the first time she noticed a young girl standing slightly behind the man, chewing her lip as if she didn’t want to be here. Before Cassie Lynn could introduce herself, however, the man spoke up again.

“I’ve told you before not to wander off without telling me.” His tone was stern.

Noah’s expression turned defensive. “I just wanted to get out in the sunshine. We’ve been cooped up forever.” The boy scuffed the ground with the toe of his shoe. “Besides, you were right inside, and I didn’t go far.”

The man didn’t seem the least bit appeased. “That’s no excuse.”

Noah’s shoulders slumped. Then he gave his uncle a hopeful look. “But you found me right away. And I knew Pru saw where I was going.”

Watching the interplay between the two of them, Cassie Lynn could detect genuine concern behind the man’s scolding. This, of course, must be the Uncle Riley that Noah had mentioned.

She studied the boy’s uncle while trying not to appear to be nosy. There was something about the man that intrigued her. It wasn’t just his vivid eyes, or his appearance, though that was appealing enough in a rugged, well-muscled sort of way. No, it was something about his bearing that commanded her attention, an air of self-confidence and strength, balanced with a concern for his nephew, which lent just a hint of vulnerability. It all came together in a way that she found compelling.

The man gave his nephew a final exasperated look, then turned to face her.

She quickly schooled her features, hoping she hadn’t given away any hint of her rather inappropriate thoughts. To her relief, his expression was merely polite.

“My apologies, miss, for any trouble Noah might have caused you.”

“No need to apologize.” She gave the boy a companionable smile, then held out her hand to the man beside him. “I’m Cassie Lynn Vickers, by the way.”

He took her hand and gave it a perfunctory shake before releasing it. “Glad to meet you, Miss Vickers. I’m Riley Walker. And I appreciate you coming to Noah’s rescue the way you did.”

She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Glad to help.” Then she turned to the little girl. “And I assume you are Noah’s sister, Pru?”

The girl, who looked to be no older than ten or eleven, nodded.

Cassie Lynn turned to the children’s uncle. “I understand you folks are new to town. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“I’m sure we will.” Mr. Walker touched the brim of his hat, and she thought for a moment he would make his exit. But instead he hesitated a moment and then nodded toward the corral. “Which one of these horses is yours?”

“None, I’m afraid. We’re just good friends.” She rested an arm on the fence. “I understand from Noah you’ve brought your own horse to town with you.”

He nodded. “River goes everywhere I do.” He waved toward the livery end of the corral, where Mr. Humphries was leading what was presumably Mr. Walker’s horse through the gate. “That’s him now.”

She heard the pride in his voice and turned to study the animal more closely. His coat was silvery-gray with a few darker flecks on his flank and a charcoal colored mane and tail. The animal appeared spirited and well cared for.

“He looks to be a fine horse.”

Mr. Walker’s smile had a touch of affection in it. “He is that.” Then he turned serious again. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Vickers, but if you’ll excuse us, I need to get us checked in at the hotel.”

“Of course.” As he moved away, she called out to them. “Mr. Walker?”

He paused and turned back, his expression one of polite inquiry. “Ma’am?”

She felt foolish for her impulsive act. “I just wanted to say if you have questions about any of the local establishments, or need directions of any sort, I’d be glad to help you.”

“That’s very kind of you, but not necessary at the moment.”

They resumed their exit and this time she let them. But she overheard another snippet of their conversation before they moved out of hearing range.

“Are you really going to work here, Uncle Riley?” Noah asked.

His uncle nodded. “I am. But just for a few hours each day.”

Were the Walkers going to settle here then? She certainly hoped so. It would give her a chance to see that sweet little Noah again.

And his uncle.

She watched them until they disappeared around the corner of the livery. Then she dusted the back of her skirt with her hands and turned to the horses. “Well, now, wasn’t that an interesting little encounter? I must say, I found Mr. Walker and his charges to be quite fascinating.” She stroked Scarlett’s muzzle again. Given that Cassie Lynn was looking for a husband, she couldn’t help but think that Mr. Walker would be a not unpleasant choice.

Ridiculous, of course, since she didn’t really know him. Then again, she didn’t know any of the local gents very well, either. It certainly couldn’t hurt to put the newcomer on her list while she tried to learn more about him. For instance, learning if he was even planning to settle down in Turnabout or was just passing through.

She grinned at her own silliness. Then the reminder of just why she was making her husband candidate list came flooding back, and she no longer had any desire to smile.

It was time to stop her foolish daydreaming and get down to business. Cassie Lynn picked up her shopping basket and walked away from the corral.

Finding a husband wouldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t altogether impossible.

Please, God, if this plan be in Your will, prepare the man You have in mind for me so that he is open to my proposal.

Feeling somewhat better now that she had a direction, Cassie Lynn straightened and moved forward with a lighter step.

But there was one big problem with her plan. She didn’t know the men in town well enough to evaluate them against her requirements. Which meant she needed an advisor, someone who could help her make those comparisons and who would perhaps think of candidates she might not be aware of. There were only a few people she felt comfortable turning to for that kind of assistance.

There was Janell Chandler, the former schoolteacher who had eventually won the hand of Hank Chandler.

Then there was Daisy Fulton, the restaurant owner Cassie Lynn had worked for for six months.

And of course there was her current employer, Mrs. Flanagan. Daisy and Janell were closer to her own age, and both had moved to Turnabout from elsewhere, so they would know something of her situation. On the other hand, Mrs. Flanagan had grown up here and knew just about everything there was to know about her fellow townsfolk.

But did she really want her employer involved in her dilemma that way?

Better to turn her thoughts to what she would prepare for Mrs. Flanagan’s evening meal and let the other matter simmer a bit.

A simple vegetable soup, perhaps, or a potpie could be prepared with very little thought and would leave her mind free to ponder her situation...

What would Mr. Walker and his two charges be doing for supper tonight? Maybe she could convince Mrs. Flanagan to invite the Walker family to dine with them one night soon. Having company to ease the monotony of the widow’s days would be good for her, whether she would be willing to admit it or not.

And it would, after all, be the neighborly thing to do.

* * *

Riley hurried Pru and Noah along. There were several things he still had to do this afternoon, and the sooner he settled the children at the hotel the better.

The most pressing matter was to get a telegraph off to Mr. Claypool. He always made a point of letting the Pinkerton detective know where to reach him when he arrived in a new town.

Then he wanted to take River for a run. The horse had been cooped up in that train car for much too long and would be ready for some exercise. And truth to tell, Riley was, too. He missed being on horseback—there hadn’t been nearly enough opportunity for him to turn loose and ride lately.

His mind drifted back to Miss Vickers. She was an interesting lady. At first glance he’d thought her a tomboyish adolescent. The way she’d stood so casually at the corral fence, elbows on the top rail, laughing with Noah—no wonder he’d gotten the wrong idea. And her slight build had only reinforced that impression.

Rushing to Noah’s aid with such disregard for her own well-being or dignity as she had, and then taking her fall with a touch of humor rather than dismay—there weren’t many grown ladies who would have done such a thing.

It was only when he’d stooped down to check on her that he’d realized his mistake. That engagingly rueful smile had most definitely belonged to a woman, not a child.

It was when their gazes first met, though, that he’d found himself thrown off balance. He’d never encountered quite that combination of innocence and humor before, especially mixed as it was with an air of maturity and resolve.

It was such a curious mix he wondered if he’d really seen all that in one quick glance. Still, the impression had remained with him. Of course, her cheery smile, and the dimple that kept appearing near the left corner of her lip, had contributed to the unexpected air that seemed to surround her. It bestowed on her a kind of unconventional attractiveness, even when she was sitting in the dust with a chagrinned look on her face. He hadn’t been so taken by a woman in quite some time. For just a heartbeat he’d been tempted to linger, to get to know her better.

And that had brought him up short. Because he couldn’t afford to let himself be diverted by such fetching distractions now, no matter how intriguing. Especially when there was no chance it could go anywhere. In another few days he and the kids would be moving on again.

“Uncle Riley?”

Noah’s words brought his thoughts back to the present. “Yes?”

“That Miss Vickers lady seems nice, don’t you think?”

It appeared he and Noah were thinking along similar lines. “I suppose.” Actually, “nice” seemed inadequate. Not everyone would have gone to such lengths to come to the aid of a stranger and then brushed off his thanks so modestly.

“And there are probably lots of other nice folks in this town, too, don’t you think?” Noah’s tone had taken on a cajoling quality.

“Could be.” Riley had an idea where this was headed and tried to cut it off. “But there are nice people everywhere.” He gave his nephew a little nudge. “Besides, who wouldn’t be nice to a great kid like you?”

Noah grinned up at him, then pressed on. “Anyway, since there are such nice folks here, don’t you think it would be okay for us to stay longer than a few days?”

There it was. “We’ve talked about this before. We don’t stay very long in small towns. Big towns are better for long stays.” Places where it was easier to disappear and not stand out so starkly. The only reason he’d stopped here in the first place was because the kids, especially Pru, had seemed unusually restless. It would do them good to get out and move around and get some fresh air and sunshine. “Besides, I have to be in Tyler for a meeting by Wednesday morning.”

Riley could tell Noah wasn’t satisfied with his answer. “I promise I’ll find us a nice big town to spend some time in real soon. Maybe you two could even go to school for a while.” He gave his niece’s shoulder a nudge. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Pru?”

The girl nodded. “I miss going to school.”

“That’s settled then. By the time school starts next month, we’ll be someplace where we can stay put for a while.” Assuming they could keep their relentless pursuer off their trail.

To Riley’s relief, they’d reached the hotel by this time and it ended the need for further conversation.

This whole business of moving from town to town, never staying in one place for long, was taking its toll on all of them. If only there was some other way. But he couldn’t afford the luxury of letting them set down permanent roots anywhere.

The well-being of the children depended on his keeping them several steps ahead of Guy.

His stepbrother.

The kids’ father.

Chapter Three

Cassie Lynn pushed open the door to Mrs. Flanagan’s home, her mood considerably different from the cheery one she’d had when she’d left here just one short hour ago. So much had happened in such a short period of time.

Dapple sat just inside the door, tail swishing impatiently. Seeming to sense her mood, the normally imperious tortoiseshell cat stropped against Cassie Lynn’s legs with a sympathetic purr.

She bent down and stroked the animal’s back. “Thanks, Dapple. You can be really sweet sometimes.”

That was apparently too much for the feline. He gave Cassie Lynn a baleful look, then turned and stalked down the hall, the very picture of affronted dignity.

With a smile, Cassie Lynn headed for the kitchen. “I’m back,” she called out as she set her shopping basket on the kitchen table. “Sorry I took so long.”

Mrs. Flanagan wheeled her chair into the kitchen. “Rather than apologizing,” the widow said acerbically, “tell me what that father of yours wanted.”

Cassie Lynn should have realized her employer had known he was there. How much should she say? “He wanted to give me some news about Verne and Dinah.”

Mrs. Flanagan raised a brow. “They’re expecting a new young’un, are they?”

“No, at least not that I know of.” She started putting away the items she’d purchased at the mercantile. “But they are moving out and planning to set up their own place.”

There was a moment of silence, but even with her back turned, Cassie Lynn could feel the keen stare the widow had focused on her.

“I’ve known Alvin Vickers most of his life,” Mrs. Flanagan finally said, “so I know he didn’t come all the way into town just to deliver news like that. He wants you to move back to his place and take care of him, doesn’t he?”

Cassie Lynn reluctantly glanced back over her shoulder and nodded.

“You didn’t agree to go, did you?”

“Not exactly.”

The widow’s eyes narrowed. “What does not exactly mean?”

Rather than give a direct answer, she hedged. “He was very insistent.”

“You mean he tried to roll right over your objections!”

Cassie Lynn gave her a tight smile that was part grimace. “I appreciate you’re concerned about me, but—”

“Ha! Who said I was concerned about you?”

When she’d first come to work here, Cassie Lynn had been taken aback by Mrs. Flanagan’s vinegary tongue, but it hadn’t taken her long to see behind the woman’s facade to the soft heart beneath. So she didn’t take offense at the words.

The woman settled back in her chair with a determined frown. “I’ve got a stake in that bakery business you’re trying to start, remember? And you can’t run it from that back-of-beyond farm.”

Cassie Lynn felt compelled to defend her father. “He’s my pa. I owe him—”

Mrs. Flanagan actually wagged a finger at her. “Cassie Lynn Vickers, you’re twenty-two years old, a grown woman by anyone’s reckoning. You need to grow some backbone and make that father of yours listen to you.”

Cassie Lynn grimaced, then turned away. Mrs. Flanagan might not say that if she knew the whole story. “At any rate, I told him I wasn’t leaving here as long as you needed my help.”

“Well, that’s something.” The widow gave a decisive snort. “And I have a feeling that I may need your help for much longer than we first expected.”

Startled, Cassie Lynn shot her a quick glance. Then, making up her mind, she decided to share her plan. “I do have an idea about how I might get around this.”

Mrs. Flanagan straightened. “Well, bless my soul, you do have some gumption, after all.” She leaned back with a satisfied nod. “Let’s hear it.”

Cassie Lynn took a deep breath. “It appears the only excuse my father will accept is if I was spoken for. So that’s what I intend to do—find a man to marry.”

The widow’s brow went up. “Just like that, you’re going to go out and find yourself a suitor?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy.” Cassie Lynn tried to keep the defensiveness from her tone. “And it’s not as if I expect anything romantic.” She didn’t have any notions of finding a fairy-tale prince who would look at her, fall instantly in love and whisk her away.

After all, she’d already contemplated a businesslike marriage with Mr. Chandler when she’d first come to town. So she’d already come to terms with that kind of arrangement.

But Mrs. Flanagan was frowning at her. “You’re much too young to be giving up on love. Don’t you want at least a touch of romance in your life?”

“Romance is no guarantee of happiness. And even if that was something I wanted, in this case there’s no time for such schoolgirl notions. So a more practical approach is called for.”

“I see.” Mrs. Flanagan crossed her arms, clearly not in agreement with Cassie Lynn’s argument, but willing to move on. “Is there a particular bachelor you’ve set your sights on?”

“I’ve been pondering on that and I have a couple of ideas. The main thing, though, is I’ve decided what requirements the gents need to meet.” She’d given that a lot of thought on her walk home.

“And those are?”

“Well, for one, since I want to continue pursuing my goal of opening a bakery, the candidate will need to be okay with having a wife who does more than just keep his house. And it would also require that he live here in town so I can be close to my customers, for delivery purposes.”

“Surely you also want to consider his character.”

“Of course. He should be honest, kind and God-fearing.” She didn’t expect affection—after all, this would be a businesslike arrangement—but she did hope for mutual respect.

“And his appearance?”

Cassie Lynn shrugged. “That’s of less importance. Though naturally, I wouldn’t mind if he’s pleasant to look at.” Like Mr. Walker, for example.

She shook off that thought and returned to the discussion at hand. “But none of that matters unless I can find someone who’s also open to my proposal.”

“And you’ve thought of someone who meets this list of qualifications?”

“Two. But I don’t really know the men here very well, so I was hoping that perhaps you could give me some suggestions.”

“Humph! I’ve always thought of matchmakers as busybodies, so I never aspired to become one.”

“Oh, I don’t want a matchmaker—I intend to make up my own mind on who I marry. I’d just like to have the benefit of advice from someone who knows the townsfolk better than I do. And who has experienced what a marriage involves.”

“Well, then, much as I’m not sure I approve of this plan of yours, I don’t suppose I can just let you go through it without guidance of some sort.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Flanagan. I can’t tell you what a relief that is.”

“Now don’t go getting all emotional on me. I said I’d help and I will. Tell me who these two gents are that you’re considering.”

“The first name that occurred to me was Morris Hilburn.”

“The butcher?”

Cassie Lynn nodded. “From what I can tell, he meets most of my criteria. Of course, I won’t know how he feels about having a wife who runs a bakery until I talk to him.”

“Morris Hilburn is a God-fearing man with a good heart, all right. But he is not the smartest of men and he’s not much of a talker.”

“Book learning and good conversation are not requirements.”

“Think about that before you rule them out. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with a man whose idea of conversation is single syllable responses?”

Cassie Lynn paused. Then she remembered the fate her father had in mind for her. “There are worse things.” She moved on before her employer could comment. “The other gentleman I thought of was Mr. Gilbert Drummond.”

“The undertaker? Well, I suppose he might be someone to look at. Then again, he strikes me as being a bit finicky.”

“There are worse qualities one could find in a man. Besides, a woman in my position doesn’t have the luxury of being choosy.” More’s the pity. “But I’m open to other suggestions if you have any.”

“I’ll need to ponder on this awhile.”

“Unfortunately, my time is short.” She hesitated a heartbeat, then spoke up again, keeping her voice oh-so-casual. “There’s actually a third candidate I’m considering.”

“And who might that be?”

“I met a newcomer to town while I was at the livery. He just arrived on today’s train.”

“A newcomer? And you’re just now telling me about this? You know good and well part of the reason I hired you is to have someone to bring me the latest bits of news.”

Cassie Lynn laughed. “And here I thought it was for my cooking.”

“Don’t be impertinent. I want to hear everything. How did you meet him? Is he a young man or more mature? Is he handsome? Is he traveling alone.” She waved impatiently. “Come on, girl, answer me.”

She decided to respond to the last question first. “He’s traveling with two children, a niece and nephew. I met the little boy first. Noah is about seven and such an endearing child—intelligent, curious, outgoing. The little girl, Pru, seems shy and quiet.” Cassie Lynn searched her memory for all the little descriptive details, relating these tidbits as vividly as she could, knowing Mrs. Flanagan loved getting these glimpses of the outside world she was missing.

After a few minutes of that, however, her employer interrupted her. “Enough of the kids,” she said with a grumpy frown. “Tell me about the uncle.”

Cassie Lynn paused a moment to pull up Mr. Walker’s image in her mind. “He has hair the color of coffee with a dash of cream stirred in, and his eyes are a piercing green.” A glorious shamrock-green that she could still picture quite vividly. “He’s lean but muscular, if you know what I mean, like he’s used to doing hard work.”

“And his age?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Mrs. Flanagan made a disapproving noise. “Don’t be coy with me, Cassie Lynn. Take a guess.”

She hid her grin. “I suppose I’d put him around twenty-four or twenty-five.” Though there was something about the look in his eyes that spoke of experience beyond his years.

“How did you come to meet him?”

Cassie Lynn explained the circumstances as she crossed the room to retrieve an apron that hung on a peg near the stove.

“I can see the man has obviously impressed you.”

Cassie Lynn stopped midstep and glanced over at her employer.

“Don’t look so surprised, girl, I’m no simpleton. If he hadn’t caught your eye, you wouldn’t have put him on your list.” Then she leaned back. “So what was it about him that made you decide after only ten minutes in his company that he might be the husband you’re looking for?”

“I only said he might be worth considering.” Then, under Mrs. Flanagan’s steady gaze, she shrugged. “I suppose it was the fact that he had two young children in his care—it made me think he might be a man in need of a woman’s help. And it was also the way he interacted with them. He obviously cares about them.”

It made her think about her relationship with her own father. He’d never been very affectionate, but when she’d been Pru’s age she felt he’d had a little more time for her.

“I agree with you there,” Mrs. Flanagan said. “A single man in charge of two young’uns sounds like a gentleman in need of a wife if there ever was one.” Dapple had wandered into the kitchen and, with a graceful motion, leaped into Mrs. Flanagan’s lap. The woman stroked the cat’s back, her eyes remaining fixed on Cassie Lynn. “So tell me about these newcomers. Who’d they come here to visit?”

“According to Noah, they don’t know anyone in Turnabout.”

“Humph. That’s strange. Not many folks come to Turnabout unless they have some purpose.”

“I’m sure they have a purpose, it’s just not to visit someone they know.” Cassie Lynn hadn’t given the reason for their visit much thought until now. She hoped that, whatever it was that had brought them to Turnabout, it would keep them here for a while. Mr. Walker had taken a job, after all.

“If I am to advise you, then I think it’s important that I meet this young man and his charges.”

Cassie Lynn nodded in agreement, pleased that Mrs. Flanagan had given her the opening she wanted. “We could invite them to have supper with us tomorrow evening. Sort of as a neighborly gesture, welcoming them to town.”

“Excellent idea.” She stroked Dapple’s head absently “In the meantime I’ll think on what other men might also meet your requirements.”

Cassie Lynn smiled as she pulled the cast-iron pot from its hook above the stove. Having the Walkers over for supper would do more than give her an opportunity to get to know them better.

It had surprised her that Mrs. Flanagan never had anyone, other than Dr. Pratt or Reverend Harper, drop in to see her since her accident. The woman apparently didn’t have any close friends.

Cassie Lynn had been trying to come up with a way to remedy that. But how did she invite people to come by and visit a flinty widow who’d never made any effort to make friends with her neighbors?

And now she would be able to do just that. Having Mrs. Flanagan help her find a suitor wouldn’t just benefit her, it would give the widow purpose, as well.

And wouldn’t it be nice if Mr. Walker turned out to be the one.

From a purely expedient perspective, of course.

Chapter Four

Cassie Lynn exited the Blue Bottle Sweet Shop the next afternoon with a spring in her step. Eve Dawson had sold all four fruit tarts she’d delivered to her this morning, and was very happy with her customers’ reactions to them. It had been the same story with Daisy Fulton over at the restaurant. Both of them had placed additional orders for her goods.

If the worst happened and Cassie Lynn ended up back at her father’s farm—though she still wasn’t ready to surrender to that possibility—she would have the pleasure of knowing that folks enjoyed her baked goods well enough to pay for them.

Of course, if she was being entirely honest with herself, part of the reason for the lightness of her mood was her current destination, the livery. She was looking forward to visiting Scarlett and Duchess again, of course. But she was hoping she might also run into Mr. Walker. He was working there, after all.

When Cassie Lynn arrived at the corral she saw Scarlett and Mr. Walker’s horse, River, penned there. But Duchess wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Scarlett trotted over to the fence, nickered and tossed her head.

“And hello to you, too,” Cassie Lynn said as she reached into her basket for one of the carrots she’d brought for just that purpose.

To her delight, River wasn’t far behind. “Well hello, boy. Ready to be friends.” She held out a carrot and the horse took it as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“So where is our friend Duchess?” she asked as she rubbed the horse’s neck. “Did she get the chance to leave the livery today?”

“She did indeed.”

At the sound of the male voice, Cassie Lynn turned to see Mr. Walker leading the mare into the corral. Her pulse immediately kicked up a notch.

“She and the buckboard were rented out to a Mr. Hendricks to transport a load of lumber.” Mr. Walker gave Duchess a final pat before removing the lead and closing the gate to the corral.

Cassie Lynn smiled. “I understand you’re working here now?”

“I am. A few hours a day, just to pay for River’s upkeep.” He moved around to where the trough was situated, checked the water level and began working the pump. “So, do you stop by here every day?”

She nodded. “Most days, anyway. It’s my favorite part of the day.” She held out another carrot as Duchess pranced up to her. “These two ladies and I are good friends.” Then she reached out to touch River’s muzzle. “And I hope this handsome gent and I soon will be.”

“River likes you.” Mr. Walker sounded surprised. “He’s pretty discerning when it comes to who he lets get close to him.”

“I believe the carrot might have had something to do with it,” she said drily. Then she turned to face him fully. “Actually, though, I was hoping I’d run into you.”

He raised a brow. “Were you now?”

Her cheeks warmed as she realized how that had sounded, and she rushed to clarify. “I mean, I told Mrs. Flanagan, the lady I work for, about meeting you and the children. And she thought it might be good to have the three of you over for supper, just as a neighborly gesture, you being new to town and all. Anyway, she asked me to invite you to join us this evening. If you’re free and you’d like to come, that is.” Cassie Lynn mentally winced. She wasn’t normally one to babble, but felt that’s exactly what she’d just been doing.

He kept working the pump. “That’s mighty nice of you ladies, but please don’t feel obliged.”

Was he going to refuse? “We’re not inviting you because we feel obliged. It’s something we want to do.”

“Still, I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

Why did he seem so reluctant? “Actually, you’d be doing me a favor,” she said diffidently.

He looked up from his task. “How’s that?”

“Mrs. Flanagan is currently confined to a wheelchair. That’s why I’m working for her, to take care of her and do the things around the house that she can’t do for herself from that chair.”

He finished pumping the water and leaned against the fence, facing her. “Sorry to hear that, but I don’t understand where the favor comes in.”

“With her being confined to the house the way she is, I think it would really cheer her up to have some new folks to talk to.”

He studied her face for a long moment, as if mentally weighing some issue. Had she pressed too hard? Did he really not want to be their guest for some reason?

She was trying to steel herself to accept his refusal when he finally spoke up. “All right then. The kids and I would be pleased to accept your generous invitation. What time should we be there?”

Relieved, she gave him a bright smile. “We normally eat supper around six o’clock.”

His lips twisted in a wry grin. “And I guess I should also ask just where there is.”

Cassie Lynn gave him the directions, then looked around. “Where are Noah and Pru?”

His expression immediately closed off. “They’re back at the hotel.” He straightened and gave a short nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” And with that he turned and headed toward the stable.

Cassie Lynn stared at his back for a moment, wondering at his abrupt change in mood. Had he been put off by her question?

She turned and slowly headed back to Mrs. Flanagan’s, replaying the conversation in her mind. He said he’d left the children at the hotel. Were they alone? She could see why that would embarrass him. But he was new to town, so it was understandable that he hadn’t found a caretaker for them. If she wasn’t already committed to Mrs. Flanagan, she would have been happy to take that position herself.

But she would make a point of giving him some recommendations this evening.

Not only was she happy to help, but she wanted to do anything she could to make it easy for him to settle in here.

If that’s what he wanted to do.

* * *

Riley went about his tasks at the livery automatically. It was the kind of work he knew well and was comfortable with. He didn’t mind working with and around horses, even when he was asked to muck out the stalls. It was good, honest labor.

But what he really itched to do right now was saddle up River and take him out for a long run. Riding across wide-open spaces was something he craved, the way a hawk craved skimming the air currents. It made him feel free and alive. It also cleared his mind and helped him see things more clearly.

And the ability to think clearly was something he definitely needed right now.

He wasn’t sure why he’d just accepted Miss Vickers’s invitation. Ever since he’d taken the kids from their home in Wyoming and set out on this never-ending journey, he’d made it a practice to keep the three of them to themselves as much as possible. All things considered, it was best if they not draw any attention to themselves. It also made it easier to slip away when the time came to move on.

And it always came.

He’d had every intention of following that same course of action here by politely refusing her invitation.

But somehow, when he’d opened his mouth, yes came out instead of no. He still wasn’t certain how that had happened. Maybe it was because he was getting travel-weary, or that the constant worry over whether Guy would catch up with them was wearing on him.

Because it certainly couldn’t have anything to do with Miss Vickers herself. After all, in other towns, there’d been other ladies, some equally as pretty, some equally as interesting, who’d tried to claim his attention, and he’d never faltered from his course.

Then again, none had been pretty and interesting in quite the same way as Miss Vickers. A way that tugged at something inside him.

Riley gave his head a mental shake, pushing aside that totally irrational thought. It was more likely that he’d slipped up because he was just tired.

Her question about the kids had brought him up short, though. Brought him back to his senses. It was probably innocent, but he’d been put in tough spots by nosy, well-meaning folks before, folks who wanted explanations about where they’d come from, where they were going, what had happened to the kids’ parents. Trust had never come easy to Riley and nothing that had happened the last couple of years had changed that.

He toyed a moment with the idea of finding a plausible excuse to cancel on her. Then he discarded it. Doing that would call as much if not more attention to themselves than if he just followed through. Besides, reneging on a promise, even one as minor as this, didn’t sit well with him.

It was just one meal, after all. And once he’d fulfilled his obligation to attend, he could insert some distance, put up some walls. Which shouldn’t be difficult since he and the kids weren’t going to be here more than a few days anyway.

Grabbing a pitchfork, Riley headed for the hay stall, but before he could get to work, he heard someone step inside the livery from the street.

A new customer? Riley quickly looked around for Mr. Humphries, but when he didn’t spot the owner, moved forward himself. “Hello. Is there something I can do for you?”

The man gave him an easy smile. “Actually, I heard Fred had hired someone new and thought I’d come around and introduce myself. I’m Ward Gleason, the sheriff around these parts.”

Riley hoped his expression didn’t give anything away. “Good to meet you, Sheriff.” He pulled off his work gloves and extended his hand. “I’m Riley Walker.”

“Mr. Walker.” The lawman shook his hand and gave a short nod. Then he released it and eyed Riley with a casual glance that didn’t fool him one bit. “Mind if I ask what brings you to our little town?”

He’s only doing his job, Riley told himself. Surely there wasn’t anything more to it than that. “Not at all. I’ve got my niece and nephew with me and we’re making our way to California. But since we’re not in a hurry and they are kids, I’m making frequent stops along the way to give them a chance to get out and about and see other parts of the country.” That was true, as far as it went.

“Any particular reason you chose to stop here?”

Riley shrugged, keeping his demeanor open and casual. “I make it a point of never traveling more than a few days at a time. My niece was getting restless and this just happened to be a good stopping off point.”

“Just the luck of the draw, is that it?”

“I guess you could say that.” How much longer would this thinly disguised interrogation last?

But the lawman didn’t seem to be in a hurry to take his leave. He crossed his arms and leaned against a support post. “So this isn’t a permanent stop for you?”

“Nope.” Riley placed his hands on top of the pitchfork handle and leaned his weight against it, trying to emulate the sheriff’s relaxed pose. “Don’t plan to be here more than a few days.” Maybe shorter if the sheriff took too keen an interest in them.

“And where are your niece and nephew right now?”

Keep it casual. “They’re resting at your town’s fine hotel.”

“Hi there, Sheriff.” Mr. Humphries’s hail turned both men’s heads toward the side office. “You looking to rent a buggy?”

Riley tried not to let his relief at the interruption show.

The sheriff straightened. “Hello, Fred. No, I’m just getting acquainted with Mr. Walker here.”

Fred Humphries gave Riley a smile. “Well, he’s a good worker, at least so far. And he seems to know his way around horses, too.”

Uncomfortable with standing there while he was being talked about, Riley cleared his throat. “I think that’s my cue to get back to work.” He nodded to both men and headed toward the hay stall once more.

Riley jabbed the pitchfork into the hay with a little more force than was necessary. Did every newcomer to town come under such scrutiny or was there something about him and the kids that had brought them to Sheriff Gleason’s notice?

Now that he had come to the sheriff’s notice, though, he’d need to be more careful than ever. Not that he’d done anything illegal, but getting certain matters untangled if they came to light could prove tricky.

It seemed the sooner he and the kids left Turnabout, the better.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Riley exited the hotel with Noah and Pru, feeling unsettled. For one thing, he hadn’t had the chance to saddle up River and go for a ride as he’d hoped. Mr. Humphries had asked for his help repairing one of the stall gates and he’d felt obliged to agree. By the time that was done he’d had to get back to the hotel and check on the kids. Riley didn’t like to leave them alone for more than a couple hours at a time. But they’d be boarding the train again in a few days, and he had hoped to get a lot of riding in while they were here.

The other reason for his unsettled mood was that he found himself wondering for the hundredth time why he was going through with this. He’d let down his guard when Miss Vickers looked at him with such entreaty in her gaze, thinking that one meal with her and her employer couldn’t hurt anything.

But it was better to remember that he couldn’t afford to have someone look too deeply into their situation, than to keep pondering over the way he felt when he was with her.

It was probably just as well that this was only a temporary stop along their unending journey.

Noah all but skipped along the sidewalk, seeming hardly able to contain his excitement. “I like Miss Vickers. She’s really nice.”

Pru cut her uncle a quizzical look. “Uncle Riley must think so, too, if he’s letting us go to her house.”

Riley mentally winced that his distrust of everyone they met was rubbing off on the kids. “It’s only for supper,” he said, feeling strangely defensive. “Besides, she helped Noah at the livery yesterday, so it would have been impolite to turn down her invitation.”

“It doesn’t matter why we’re going, Pru,” Noah said. “This is gonna be a whole lot better than eating in our room or in the hotel restaurant.”

“Just don’t get used to it,” Riley warned. “Like I said, this is a one-time thing.” He felt a small pang of regret as he said that. Which was odd. How had the woman, after only two brief encounters, gotten under his skin this way?

As they approached the house Miss Vickers had directed him to, Riley studied it with an objective eye. It was a modest white, one-story structure with a high roof, a porch in front that stretched the entire width, and a large swing hanging on one end. Turning onto the front walk, he realized this would be the first time he and the kids would enter a family home since they’d left Pru and Noah’s own home in Long Straw, Wyoming.

Riley ushered them up the porch steps, making certain to rein in some of Noah’s exuberance. Knocking at the front door, he steeled himself. They would visit, share the meal and that would be that. In three or four days they’d board the train and resume their journey.

Miss Vickers opened the door almost immediately and smiled warmly. “Welcome. Please come in.”

“Good evening.” He nodded to her as they entered.

She returned his greeting, then smiled down at the children. “Hello, Noah, Pru. It’s so nice to see you again.”

Pru nodded shyly, while Noah looked around with eager curiosity. She led them into the parlor, where an older woman with faded blond hair sat waiting for them, commanding the room as if she sat on a throne rather than a wheelchair.

Miss Vickers quickly made the introductions. Then she waved to the sofa. “Please, sit down. We have a few minutes before supper is ready.”

Riley waited until she herself had taken a seat near her employer before ushering the kids to the sofa.

Mrs. Flanagan leaned back, with the air of a queen granting an audience. “Well now, Cassie Lynn tells me you all just arrived in town yesterday. What brings you to Turnabout?”

Riley repeated the answer he’d given the sheriff.

Their hostess frowned. “So you’re not planning to be here very long.”

“No, ma’am, not more than a few days.” Was it his imagination or was there a shadow of disappointment in Miss Vickers’s expression? If so, she covered it quickly.

Still, the thought that she might wish he would stay longer bolstered his spirits in a way that made no sense at all.

It was a good thing this would be a one-time visit and that they would be leaving town in a few days’ time. It appeared the kids weren’t the only ones who felt the pull of this taste of family home warmth.

Which was strange, because even before he’d had to go on the run with the kids, he’d led a less-than-settled life.

Well, there was no way he’d let one look from a young lady, no matter how winsome, further complicate his life.

Which meant he should do whatever he could, short of being impolite, to speed up this little outing.

He leaned forward looking for an opening to move things along.

Chapter Five

Cassie Lynn felt a stab of disappointment at Mr. Walker’s announcement of his intent to leave Turnabout soon. Because he’d taken a job at the livery, she’d just assumed his move here was more or less permanent. Wishful thinking on her part, it seemed.

She hadn’t realized until now just how much she’d been hoping Mr. Walker would be the man who would become her marriage partner. Then again, perhaps it was better this way. She’d already decided it would be best to marry someone she had no emotional ties to.

It was a setback, but not a major one. She’d just have to turn her attention to finding another candidate for her husband.

“Why are you in that wheelchair?”

Noah’s artless question pulled Cassie Lynn back to the present.

“Noah!” Mr. Walker’s sharply uttered reprimand was met with a confused look from the boy.

But Mrs. Flanagan flapped her hand at the boy’s uncle. “Let him be.” Then she turned to Noah. “Because I injured my leg, that’s why.”

He stood and moved closer. “Does it still hurt?”

The widow responded as if it had been a perfectly sensible question. “It aches a bit.”

He tilted his head to study the wheels. “Can you get around in that thing yourself or does someone have to push you?”

She drew herself up. “I’ll have you know, young man, that I manage quite well on my own.”

Cassie Lynn hid a smile as she watched the exchange. Noah didn’t seem at all put off by Mrs. Flanagan’s manner. And for her part, the widow seemed to actually be enjoying the give-and-take.

A moment later Cassie Lynn noticed Pru, who was seated at her uncle’s side, sit up straighter and stare at something across the room. Following the girl’s gaze, she saw Dapple stretched out near the fireplace. The cat was watching them with half-closed eyes while his tail swished lazily back and forth.

While Noah and Mrs. Flanagan continued their spirited but unorthodox conversation, Cassie Lynn leaned toward the little girl. “I see you’ve spotted Dapple. Do you like cats?”

Pru nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m afraid Dapple’s a little wary of strangers, but perhaps if I introduce you, you can make friends with him. Would you like that?”

Pru nodded more enthusiastically this time.

Cassie Lynn caught Mr. Walker’s gaze for a moment. The approval in his expression caught her off guard and she felt warmth climb in her cheeks.

Quickly turning back to Pru, she stood and held out her hand. After only a moment’s hesitation, the girl grasped it and let herself be led across the room.

As Cassie Lynn eased the way for Pru and Dapple to get acquainted, she imagined she could feel Mr. Walker’s gaze on her. But that was foolish. He was no doubt just keeping an eye on his niece.

When she turned to escort Pru, who now held Dapple, back to her seat, Mr. Walker was once more focused on Noah and Mrs. Flanagan.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Cassie Lynn said to the room at large, “I’ll go check on supper. We should be ready to eat in just a few minutes.”

Mr. Walker stood as she made her way across the room. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He sounded almost eager, but she shook her head. “Thank you, but you’re a guest here. I can manage.”

“Nonsense. I hope you won’t stand on ceremony with me. My ma taught me to help out in the kitchen rather than expect to be waited on. And helping is the least I can do to repay you ladies for your generous dinner invitation.” He turned to Mrs. Flanagan. “That is, if you don’t mind me leaving the kids here with you for a few minutes?”

The widow waved her hand. “Go on ahead, we’ll be fine.”

With a smile, Mr. Walker turned back to Cassie Lynn. “Lead the way.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of his offer. Her father and brothers had certainly never felt obliged to help her with what they considered women’s work. She’d just assumed all men felt that way.

“Have you worked for Mrs. Flanagan very long?” he asked as they moved toward the kitchen.

His question brought her thoughts back to the present. “Just a little over two weeks. That’s when she hurt her leg.”

He nodded. “She seems like a feisty woman.”

Cassie Lynn gave a smile at that understatement. “She is that. It’s chafing at her not to be able to do for herself.”

They’d arrived at the kitchen and Mr. Walker inhaled appreciatively, his expression blissful. “That sure does smell good.”

“Thank you. It’s a venison roast, one of Mrs. Flanagan’s favorite dishes.”

He rubbed his hands together. “All right now, what can I do to help?”

Cassie Lynn gave him a challenging look. “How are you at setting the table?”

He drew himself up with mock pride. “I’m an expert. It’s a skill my mother insisted I master before I turned ten.”

“Smart lady.” She moved to the counter where the dishes were already stacked and waiting. “Mrs. Flanagan wants to eat in the dining room this evening rather than here in the kitchen, so I need to carry all the place settings down the hall. If you’ll grab the plates and cutlery, I’ll grab the glasses and napkins and you can follow me.”

He gave a short bow. “I’m yours to command.”

Taking him at his word, she led the way toward the dining room. Once there he helped her arrange the plates and flatware around the table, then returned with her to the kitchen and helped her transport all the food to the dining room, as well.

As they worked, they chatted about his horse, which she learned he’d raised from a colt and had a deep affection for. Just from some of the things he let fall in conversation, she could tell he thought of River as much more than a pack animal or means of transportation.

He seemed quite comfortable and at ease working beside her, as if he enjoyed her company. It was a novel feeling, interacting with a man this way. To be honest, she felt flattered and at the same time a little flustered by it all. The more she was around Mr. Walker, the more deeply Cassie Lynn regretted having to scratch his name off her husband-candidate list. She felt that they would have formed a very companionable partnership.

Were there other men who would as readily share her load, share their time and attention with her?

Is this what married life would be like? She was beginning to understand what Mrs. Flanagan had meant by not giving up on the thought of romance. Then she gave her head a mental shake. The man was leaving town in a few days. This was no time to be acting like a schoolgirl.

At last, the table was ready. Cassie Lynn returned to the parlor, with Mr. Walker ambling along at her side.

“Dinner is served,” she announced.

Her companion crossed the room and stepped behind Mrs. Flanagan. “May I?” he asked gallantly as he put his hands on the back of her chair.

The widow sat up straighter, a delighted smile crossing her face before she schooled her expression into its normal disapproving lines. She gave a regal nod and waved a hand.

Cassie Lynn had already removed the chair that normally sat at the head of the table, so it was easy for Mr. Walker to wheel his hostess into position there. Once Mrs. Flanagan was properly situated, Cassie Lynn pointed him to the spot across from the widow, while she took a seat facing Noah and next to Pru.

Once they’d all taken their places, Mrs. Flanagan looked across at Mr. Walker. “Would you offer the blessing, sir?”

“Of course.” He immediately bowed his head.

“Thank you, Jesus, for the meal we have before us and for the effort and skill of the one who prepared it. We newcomers are grateful that You have brought us to this place and for the generosity of the ladies who have welcomed us into their company. Bless this meal to the health and nourishment of we Your servants, and we ask especially that You provide a healing grace to Mrs. Flanagan. Amen.”

Cassie Lynn echoed the amen, pleased to learn that Mr. Walker had what sounded like a familiar relationship with the Lord.

As the plates of food were passed around, Mrs. Flanagan took charge of the conversation. “So might I ask how you make your living, Mr. Walker?”

“I grew up on a ranch, and working with horses is about the only real skill I have.”

“Uncle Riley is the best horse trainer around,” Noah said proudly.

Mr. Walker leaned over and gave his nephew a mock punch in the shoulder. “At least the best you ever met,” he said with a teasing grin.

“And is that where you all are headed, someplace where you can work with horses?”

Mr. Walker hesitated a moment as he shifted in his seat. It might have merely been irritation at the intrusive question, but Cassie Lynn got the distinct impression there was more to it than that.

“I do hope to one day have a horse ranch of my own, but that’s something I’ve put on hold for the time being. In the meantime, I get work where I can.”

She noticed he hadn’t really answered Mrs. Flanagan’s question. But before the widow could press further, he turned to Cassie Lynn. “This roast is mighty fine eating. My compliments to the cook.”

She felt her cheeks warm as she smiled at his compliment. “Thank you.”

“If you think this is good, just wait until we get to dessert,” Mrs. Flanagan declared. “Baking is where Cassie Lynn really shines.”

Cassie was surprised by the compliment. She didn’t often get praise from her employer.

Mr. Walker pointed a fork at her. “I look forward to it.”

The conversation moved on to safe, mundane topics for a few minutes, then Mrs. Flanagan circled back around to her probing questions. “Seems to me, if raising horses is something you aim to work at, that there’s lots of good places around here just perfect for a horse ranch.”

Cassie Lynn cringed at the woman’s continued probing. Was this her fault? Was Mrs. Flanagan trying to convince the man to stay in town because she’d shown an interest in him?

She saw a small tic at the corner of Mr. Walker’s jaw, but when he spoke his tone was controlled. “Thank you, but as I said, I’ve put those plans on hold for now.”

Then he turned the tables on her. “Mind if I ask how you hurt your leg?”

Cassie Lynn paused midbite. Mrs. Flanagan hated when anyone pointed out her infirmity. And Cassie Lynn had a feeling Mr. Walker knew that.

There was a tense moment of silence as the two at either end of the table stared each other down.

Then Mrs. Flanagan gave a nod, acknowledging Mr. Walker’s point, and answered his question. “I fell off a ladder when I was trying to prune a tree out back.” Then she turned to Noah. “Tell me, young man, are you as fond of horses as your uncle?”

Cassie saw the self-satisfied glint in Mr. Walker’s eye. Apparently he’d figured out something she’d learned, as well. The best way to deal with Mrs. Flanagan’s pushy manner was to meet it head-on.

When he turned her way, he seemed abashed to find her watching him. Her nod of approval a heartbeat later also seemed to momentarily startle him. Then he returned her smile with a conspiratorial one of his own, and her breath caught as she once more felt that connection with him, as if they were longtime friends. His smile deepened as he apparently noted her reaction and she felt the warmth rise in her cheeks. She quickly turned away, busying herself with passing another piece of bread to Noah.

As the conversation flowed around the table, Cassie Lynn suddenly realized Pru wasn’t participating. Hoping to find a way to draw the girl in, she turned to her and only then noticed that Pru was picking at her food without really eating much of anything. Was there something more than shyness at work here?

Concerned, she leaned closer and asked quietly, “Are you all right, Pru?”

Pru gave her an embarrassed look and nodded. “I’m just not very hungry,” she said softly.

Cassie Lynn patted the child’s leg. “That’s fine. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.”

The girl nodded and broke off a small piece of bread to nibble on, as if to prove she was all right.

But apparently Mr. Walker had noticed. His expression concerned, he leaned toward his niece. “What’s the matter, Pru?”

“I’m just not very hungry,” she said again.

Cassie Lynn frowned. There seemed to be more than a lack of appetite going on with the girl. She was pale and her eyes had a slightly glazed look.

Placing her hand on Pru’s forehead, Cassie Lynn shot Mr. Walker a worried glance. “She’s running a fever.”

He immediately pushed away from the table. “If you ladies will excuse our early departure, I should take her back to the hotel, where she can lay down.”

Cassie Lynn moved her hand to the girl’s shoulder and stood. “Perhaps it would be better to have Doc Pratt take a look at her first.”

“Absolutely.” Mrs. Flanagan’s tone brooked no argument. “Let her rest on the bed in the spare room while Cassie Lynn fetches the doctor.”

Mr. Walker’s brows drew down. “I don’t want to put Miss Vickers out—”

She gave him a smile. “Doc Pratt lives right next door, so it’s no trouble at all. It won’t take me but a few minutes to fetch him.” She stood and pointed to the doorway. “The spare room is down that hall, third door on the left. Why don’t you help Pru get comfortable and lie down, and I’ll be back faster than a squirrel can climb a tree.”

Mr. Walker hesitated and she saw the worry in his expression. The poor man likely had very little experience with childhood illnesses. She impulsively touched his arm. “Children seem to get these fevers with vexing regularity. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but it’s always best to get a doctor to check it out if you can.”

He nodded. “Very well. Thank you.”

* * *

Riley picked Pru up and carried her down the hall to the room Miss Vickers had indicated. The little girl snuggled up against his chest with touching trust. Why hadn’t he realized sooner that she was sick? Some guardian he was.

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

Riley 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.

Chapter Seven

Cassie awoke earlier than normal the next morning. As she took extra care brushing and pinning her hair, she told herself it was definitely not because she’d see Mr. Walker soon. Last night, when he’d delivered the children’s things, she’d told him that he was welcome to join them for breakfast this morning, and he’d told her to expect him bright and early.

Her room was right next to the one the children were in and she quietly peeked inside to check on them. To her relief they were both still asleep, though Pru rolled over restlessly as Cassie watched.

She left the door slightly ajar as she stepped out, then headed for the kitchen. Her first order of business would be to set a nice hearty vegetable and bone broth simmering on the stove for Pru, and then she’d get breakfast started for the rest of them.

Mrs. Flanagan’s hens usually produced five to six eggs a day. With four people to feed she’d have to use every one of them for the meal. Any eggs she needed for her baking would have to be purchased from the mercantile. But she supposed that was only right—she shouldn’t be counting on Mrs. Flanagan to provide her with ingredients, anyway. After all, her employer was providing the kitchen and the baking pans she needed.

As Cassie Lynn neared the kitchen, she wrinkled her nose in confusion. Was that coffee she smelled?

She hurried forward and saw Mr. Walker sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee wrapped in his hands, a look of worry furrowing his brow.

He stood as soon as she entered the room. “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shook his head ruefully. “How did Pru and Noah do last night?”

“Pru was a bit restless, but for the most part they slept through the night. I imagine today is going to be rougher for Pru, though, as the blisters form and start itching. I remember what an ordeal it was to keep my brothers from scratching themselves raw when they had it.”

He winced at that. “I vaguely remember having it myself, but not any of the particulars.”

She raised a brow as she crossed the room to fetch an apron from the peg by the door. “You must have been mighty young.” She tied the apron strings behind her back. “Taking care of Pru and Noah is going to require lots of patience, as well as a bit of creativity in finding ways to distract them.”

He grimaced. “Right now two weeks sounds like an excessively long time.”

“About that.” Cassie Lynn crossed her arms. “Mrs. Flanagan and I spoke about your situation last night. We’d like to offer to help you care for the children for as long as they’re sick. Both of us have dealt with this before—me with my brothers, she with her sons. But that means letting them stay here with us while they get through this.”

As she’d expected, his jaw set in that stubborn line again. “That’s a generous offer, but—”

She held up a hand. “I understand your hesitation at being separated from them for so long, but all the reasons we discussed for not moving them last night still apply today. Besides, we’ve come up with a solution that should make this easier on everyone—you can stay here, too.”

He raised a brow at that, his lips twisting wryly. “You’re inviting me to, what—camp out on the sofa in the parlor for two weeks?”

She fetched her large stockpot and started filling it with water. “Well, you could do that,” she said, as she transferred the pot to the stove. “Or you could use the attic. I’m afraid there’s no bed up there, but it’s roomy and will provide you with some privacy. Mrs. Flanagan has lots of extra quilts you can use to make yourself a passably comfortable pallet, if you don’t mind bedding down on the floor.”

Mr. Walker shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve bunked down in far less comfortable accommodations.” Then he rubbed his jaw, his expression indicating he still wasn’t convinced.

Did he have that much trouble letting go of his notions of how things should go?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.