"It's the only way I could keep them all in one place," Tyler explained, embarrassed, as he rose from the floor with Maria still clinging to his neck and Jose hanging on to his knee.
"Where are Carmen and Daniel?" Instantly on the alert, Evie looked to the pallet where Daniel usually lay. Finding it empty, she started for the back bedroom door.
"I'm fine, Evie," Daniel called from his bed. "They're just making a fuss about nothing. I need food more than I need a doctor."
Tyler pulled the youngest leech off his neck and dropped her into Evie's arms. "He was trying to stand and the pestilence here knocked him over." He tickled Maria on the belly, sending her off into a fit of giggles. Obviously, she felt no remorse. "Carmen's gone to find the doctor."
"Oh, Daniel, no!" Carrying Maria into the bedroom with her, Evie tried to determine the extent of the damage by the paleness of Daniel's face. He was in pain, she could see that. But the leg still seemed to be straight.
"It's fine. I know it's fine. I just bruised myself a little. I'm going to walk again. I'm going to ask the doc if I can take some of these bandages off. It will be easier to exercise if I'm not all wrapped up."
Daniel shifted his weight against the pillow and leaned over to look at his offending leg. He'd been wearing the same set of trousers for three weeks now rather than slit all his clothes up the side to accommodate the bandages, and this pair were looking worn.
Tyler came in behind Evie, holding Jose like a sack of grain beneath one arm. The six-year-old kicked and squirmed, but Tyler acted as if he weren't there. "Daniel's made of tough stuff. He'll survive if you'll get a little food into him. I managed to keep an eye on this nest of rattlesnakes, but I'm not getting near that stove of yours."
Jose squealed at being called a rattlesnake and started throwing punches, but Tyler upended him by the ankles and threatened to bounce him off the floor. The boy laughed with delight.
Evie watched this play dubiously. Tyler was wearing buckskins and boots, but his shirt was the white linen of a gentleman and not a cowboy. Still, he wasn't wearing the ruffles and waistcoat of the gambler, and she had never seen him in anything else before. And it wasn't just the clothes that were different. Could this be the same Tyler who had backed out and practically run when he'd returned to the hotel to find the children singing?
"What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously as she accepted Daniel's reassurances and returned to the front room to fix dinner without Carmen's experienced aid.
"I've been asking myself that for the past hour. The question is, where have you been for all that time?' Tyler had dropped Jose, and the two boys wrestled on the floor at his feet. Maria toddled to the sewing basket by the fireplace, and began pulling out thread and needles to scatter them across the hearth.
Tyler appeared untouched by the confusion. He stood beside Evie, hands on hips, waiting for an explanation she didn't feel prepared to give. She slapped a bowl at his middle so he had to grab it, then poured in some cornmeal.
"If you're going to be underfoot while I'm fixing diner, you'll have to help. Add milk until it gets thick."
Tyler stared at the bowl as if it were a pig that had sprouted wings. Evie ignored his expression and turned back to the stove to add onions to the beans that had been soaking all day.
Refusing to be intimidated, Tyler set the bowl on the dry sink and began adding buttermilk from the pitcher. "What do I do with it now?"
"Mush it around so everything's moist, throw in a little sugar, some of that bacon grease in the can over there, and anything else that seems good." Evie wiped the onion juice off her hands onto her apron and reached for some of the dried chili peppers hanging from the shelf.
"Aren't you supposed to measure these things?" Tyler asked, looking at the sugar and grease with bafflement.
"Do you win at poker by counting cards or watching people's faces?" she asked, seemingly irrelevantly.
"I've spent years watching people's faces. I've never poked at a bowl of cornmeal before." Grimacing, Tyler threw in a lump of grease and a spoonful of sugar."
Throwing in the chopped peppers, Evie removed the bowl from his hands. "Then go entertain the children or keep Daniel company."
"All I wanted to know is where you've been." Tyler stepped out of her way, but not so far that she couldn't hear him.
"And all I wanted to know is why you're here," she replied. "Stalemate. Now scat. I've got to keep my eye on this stove."
She was in a flurry of motion, and Tyler stood back to admire the choreography. She was in one of her schoolteacher gowns today: no bustle, no flounce, no crinoline. The simple-figured cotton swirled around her ankles as she moved from stove to table to sink to cabinet. She sent Manuel out to bring in vegetables from the cellar and Jose to fetch a pail of water.
Tyler remembered the kitchen back home with black slaves singing and moving about, and his mother occasionally testing a dish and instructing the young girls how to properly mix a cake. He remembered the scent of baking bread, frying chicken, and bubbling peach cobbler. He remembered feeling at home and content in the small world that was all he knew.
And he remembered how it had exploded all around him. Turning his back on the scene, Tyler started for the front door, only to halt when it flew open with the entry of Carmen and the doctor on her heels. With a sigh, he caught Carmen as she tripped on one of the spools of thread rolling across the floor. Setting her straight, he grabbed Maria before she could go after the doctor and set about picking up the contents of the sewing basket while Carmen led the way to Daniel. He'd be damned if he'd ever have children of his own. They ought to be avoided like measles.
But Maria patted his cheek and kissed his ear and Tyler didn't put her down. He wandered over to halt the screaming argument between Carmen and Daniel so Evie wouldn't have to drop what she was doing to investigate. Even if Carmen's words were half in Spanish, her tirade wasn't very difficult to translate. Tyler dumped Maria into her sister's arms, turned Carmen around, and shoved her back through the bedroom door. Sometimes, men had to stick together.
Daniel gave him a grin of relief and finally submitted to the examination. "She's afraid I'm going to die, too," he explained shyly. "I guess 'cause she's lost her mother and father in this past year."
Tyler nodded his understanding. Daniel had a good head on his shoulders. He seemed to take the vagaries of the world with a calm that Tyler had worked for years to develop. There were times when he still wanted to rip things apart at the injustice of fate, but he wasn't letting this solemn adolescent know that. He watched as the doctor unwrapped the bandage.
"How's it knitting, Doc?" Tyler asked. He didn't want to care what happened to the boy, but he did. If Daniel never walked again, Evie would never forgive herself, and Tyler would have one more black mark to chalk up against a God who hated his creations.
"Satisfactorily, it seems to me." The doctor had Daniel move the leg around in different directions, checking the development of the disabled muscles. "I wouldn't want any pressure on it just yet, but with a crutch to keep the weight off, he might get around a little. The idea is to keep that leg moving just as if you were walking on it. The bone has to knit before you can use the leg, but you have to get those muscles working for you." These last remarks were addressed to Daniel, who nodded in understanding.
"How much can I be up? Can I go down to the newspaper office for a while each day?"
The doctor frowned. "That's a bit of a risk. You could stumble or be knocked down again."
The disappointment in Daniel's face was so apparent that Tyler couldn't hold his tongue. "What if someone were to walk with him, just in case something happened? Is there any reason he couldn't walk that far?"
The doctor shrugged, closed his bag, and got up from the bed. "None that I know of. It would be a good stretch for him."
Daniel didn't dare look excited until after the doctor had left, and then only a note in his voice gave him away. "Who can walk with me? Evie's teaching every
day."
"I reckon Ben or I or somebody or another can show up most mornings. It's no hardship to walk those few blocks."
Evie was at the door, wiping her hands on a towel as Tyler said this. Her eyes widened, but she left the questions to Daniel.
"I don't want to put anyone out any," he replied cautiously.
"That's all right, looks like we're gonna be around anyway." Tyler held Evie's gaze with his own "They caught one of the thieves last night. It seem someone from outside helped them to escape."
The same someone who wanted a distraction for Evie's abduction is what his eyes said.
Chapter 28
"You're imagining things, Tyler. No one here wants to hurt me." Escaping the house and children who might listen, Evie tucked her hands under her elbows and walked away from him. The sun hadn't gone down yet, but it was throwing long shadows across the grass as she headed out of town.
"Damn it, Evie," Tyler said, following on her heels. "This isn't a dime novel where nothing ever happens to the heroine. Will you come down out of those clouds and listen to me?"
He clenched his hands into fists. Not in all the years since the war had he been bombarded with so many frustrations at once. He didn't want the responsibility of worrying about a house full of kids and a crippled adolescent. He sure as hell didn't want to play nursemaid to a beautiful dreamer who couldn't tell the difference between fantasy and reality.
The worst of it all was that he couldn't keep his mind off that dreamer's swaying skirts and tiny waist and kissable lips. He needed a woman, and he needed her now.
"I'm not a complete incompetent, you know," Evie replied, as if he were offering an intellectual debate rather than a screaming argument. "I like colors. I wish I could paint that sunset." She gestured toward the horizon. "I suppose I read a lot, but that's because Daniel and I are so close. He could never go out and play with the other children, so we read together."
Evie stopped and waited until he was beside her. "And I like to write stories in my head. I don't think that's a crime. It's mostly because I want a story to go with the pictures I like to paint."
"And maybe sometimes you like to act them out," Tyler finished bluntly. "I'm not Pecos Martin, Evie. I'm not riding to the rescue when the bad guys arrive. I think you'd better leave this town and let a proper lawyer find out the answers to your questions."
"You want me to leave the children? And leave the school without a teacher again? And disappoint Daniel? Do you think he could find a job at any other newspaper office? Not a chance in a million, Mr. Monteigne. You may think I'm a dreamer, but I know what responsibility means. I'm staying here. I'm not running away."
Perhaps there wasn't accusation in her voice, but Tyler heard it anyway. He steeled himself against the guilt and kept his hands in his pockets. "Fine. Stay here and play Joan of Arc. But don't expect me to come to the rescue when they start lighting fires under you."
Evie continued to cup her elbows as she faced him. "I never imagined myself as a martyr. I like it here, Tyler. I want to stay. Help me to do that."
Tyler kept his curses to himself as he searched her pensive face. He didn't want to consider this aspect of his wife. Evie was meant to be a wild and beautiful butterfly. He liked watching her. He liked hearing about her wilder flights. He admired her beauty and cleverness. He didn't want her tied down with all the baggage the world would pile on her shoulders. But if he left her to do things on her own, that was what would happen. Evie needed a man to take the burden from her. And he didn't want anyone but himself to be that man.
That was a damned foolish thought, and he didn't intend to think it again. He needed a woman and this one appealed to him and that was all there was to it. Without a qualm, Tyler pulled his hands from his pockets and caught Evie by the waist, pulling her to him.
She came without protest, fitting into his arms as if she belonged there. As he bent his head to her, she slid her hands around his neck, and he swelled with pride that she did so trustingly. He had never tamed a butterfly before. He held her gently and plied her lips with kisses.
She took his kisses and gave them back twice over. When he pulled her closer, tightening his arms around her, her breasts brushed against his shirt and he felt it to his toes. It was a glorious, dizzying feeling, and he reveled in it.
It couldn't last. A carriage rolled by on the dirt path behind them. Tyler set her back down. News of the gambler kissing the schoolmarm would be all over town by morning if that was one of the town's biddies. The driver of the carriage, however, was definitely male. It looked to be the lawyer, but the carriage was well on its way now, and he couldn't tell for certain.
He looked back to Evie. Her lips were puffy from his kisses, and her dark eyes were watching him questioningly. She was his wife, for heaven's sake. There wasn't any reason to feel guilty for kissing his wife.
But remembering the wrong name on the marriage papers and the promises they had made, Tyler dropped his hold on her waist. "That was a mistake. I'm sorry." He turned and started walking back toward town.
Evie stayed where she was. He could ride off into the darned sunset and kiss his horse for all she cared. She wasn't following him. He knew where to find her when he missed her.
* * *
The following Saturday, Tyler watched as Hale came headed for the cafe as he always did at noon. As long as he was hanging around town, he might as well put himself to good use. His gut feeling was that the sooner they found out about Evie's parents, the better off they all would be. He wasn't certain where the relationship between the thieves and Evie's abductors and her unknown past might be, but he had a suspicion a few clues were locked away in the lawyer's office.
Nodding at Ben lingering in the shadows, Tyler strolled down the alley behind the office building. He had examined the territory earlier. The office had a back entrance. And that entrance led to interior stairs. He didn't have to use the outside ones where all could see.
He was inside Hale's office within minutes. The man didn't believe in locked doors. Admittedly, few buildings around here even had locks, but the secrets held in this office should have required a minimum of caution. Hale either had nothing to hide or he had hidden it well.
Tyler started with the huge oak filing cabinet. Most of the files inside were coated with dust and yellowed with age. Cryptic notes made it impossible to determine the file's contents without examining them. Tyler cursed and looked for some pattern. There didn't seem to be any that he could discern. Old wills for one family were intermixed with mortgage deeds for another. Scribbled notations fell out of files without any clue as to whom they applied. Hale didn't need a key to open his secrets; he needed an interpreter.
Giving up in disgust on that source, Tyler turned to the mahogany desk. He'd seen one like it over in Georgia during the war. That one had been over a hundred years old and shipped from England. Chances were good that this one had come across the Sabine with some Hale ancestor with respect for his past.
Tyler found the secret drawer that all these old desks had, but there was nothing in it but fifty-year-old dust, some old coins, and a ledger with meaningless entries from years ago. He could almost swear that Jonathan Hale didn't know the drawer was there. It probably hadn't been opened since his father died.
Evie's lawyer might be honest, but he was a nitwit.
Scowling, Tyler scanned the papers littering the top of the desk. There were a few legal briefs, some deeds in the making, an assortment of ancient books, and the usual tools of the trade. He didn't want to disturb anything that might be noticed, but curiosity had him lifting the large blotter in the desk's center. He could remember his father shoving papers he referred to often under there.
A thin file lay beneath the heavy blotting pad. Holding his breath, Tyler eased it out, attempting to leave the rest of the desk contents undisturbed.
The first paper inside was a yellowing copy of the last will and testament of one Cyrus Howell. Not taking the time to read it yet, Tyler fl
ipped to the next document. A trust agreement entered into by Elizabeth Howell Harding. Tyler glanced over it swiftly, finding the name Evangeline Peyton Howell almost immediately. He wanted to grab the file and run, but Hale was certain to miss it.
The last document in the file was the will of Randall Harding. Tyler frowned. Hale's filing system left a lot to be desired. Maybe Evie had the right idea. Daniel could clean this place up with one hand behind his back. Unfortunately, those stairs outside presented a certain obstacle to a man with only one good leg.
A sharp whistle from the porch below caused another curse. With regret, Tyler shoved the file back where he found it, checked to make certain he hadn't left anything out of place, then slipped to the door. He heard footsteps coming up the back stairs.
Tyler cast a quick look around. There was no place to hide. His gaze fell on a door down the hall. It had no transom or window, so he suspected it was little more than a closet, but that suited him just fine. Hale's visitors weren't likely to visit a closet.
The door was unlocked; the room was unlighted and windowless. Tyler glimpsed towering stacks of old law books and crates of papers, then eased the door closed and waited in silence. Ben had been out front waiting for Hale to return. The lawyer usually took an hour for lunch. Tyler didn't think it had been an hour yet, and the footsteps had come from the rear of the building. If Ben had seen Hale's visitors, he would have whistled sooner. That must mean Hale was coming down the street to meet the men pounding noisily down the hall.
"Look, I just want to check on something, all right?"
Tyler didn't recognize the voice, but it was loud and clear enough to carry through the wall and the crates of junk. He stood motionless, afraid any wrong move would start an avalanche. The next voice mumbled, and he strained to hear, but all he caught was the first man's reply.
"Look, I don't trust lawyers any more than you do. That's why I'm here. I saw him put them papers in a drawer, and I want to take a look."
The other voice was closer now, just outside the door. "I don't like it. I don't like messing with no kids; I told you that before. I can take this Pecos fellow out without touching the damned kids."
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