“Not particularly.”
He’d felt exactly that, but he sure wasn’t confiding in Miss Hargreaves. At least he had some sympathy for Bill. Her willingness to share her vulnerabilities naturally invited others to do the same.
“What about excitement?” She clasped her hands. “Don’t you get dreadfully bored out here all by your lonesome?”
“The quiet suits me.”
“The solitude would drive me mad. There are more opportunities for women in larger cities. I’m not exactly certain what I want in life, but I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to feel useless. Women were perfectly useful during the war, I don’t know why men believe we’ve suddenly become inept simply because peace was declar—” She glanced at her niece. “Oh, dear, Caroline. Do you need another trip to the privy?”
“Water.”
Miss Hargreaves shoved a full glass across the table.
The girl downed the liquid and sighed. “Better.”
“See there?” Miss Hargreaves’s smile brightened. “You’ll be right as rain in no time.”
Keeping a close watch on the girl, Nolan pushed back his plate. He’d been raised the only child of a dirt-scrabble farmer along the border of Virginia and Pennsylvania. As a child, he’d planned on farming like his father before him. Except his father had lost everything: his home, his land and his livelihood. Many of the farms on the losing side of the border had been confiscated during the war, and the land had never been returned. Following the war, his father had moved to Cimarron Springs, Kansas, to live near his sister, Nolan’s aunt Edith.
Nolan had lived with his father for a time, but if he didn’t follow certain patterns during the day, his sleep was marked by night terrors that sometimes turned violent. After nearly assaulting his own father during an episode, he’d retreated to the remotest location he could find. If he didn’t show some improvement by the time the railroads shut down the stagecoaches, he’d travel farther west. Maybe California or the Wyoming Territory.
Miss Hargreaves rested her elbow on the table and planted her chin in her hand. “It’s such a little thing, isn’t it? Wanting to be useful? Getting married and having a family is all well and good, but I’d go mad if all I had was the washing up to keep my mind occupied each day. Do you know how many documents must be filed with the county before the railroad claims a plot of land?”
“Nope.”
“One. But it’s quite complicated. The Douglas County clerk said I had a talent for land negotiations. A lot of good that does me. No one will hire a female for land management. I told my father I’d do all the paperwork for the cases, and he could take the credit. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”
“Fuss?”
“My father. He doesn’t think that I know what I want. He’s right, I suppose. Except I know what I don’t want.” She grimaced. “He thinks we should all be more like my sister, Eleanor. Content with supporting her husband, even if that husband drags her all the way to Virginia City and then dies. Sounds dreadful to me. I have grander plans.”
Nolan had forgotten what it was like to view the future with hope rather than dread. Miss Hargreaves’s unflinching optimism was as flawless and blue as a spring sky. She was like a flash of light illuminating the darkness.
Poisonous grief threaded through his veins. Some things were better left in the shadows.
The youngest child held out her sticky fingers. “Boo-berry.”
The toddler rested a hand on his bent knee, smearing blackberries across his canvas trousers.
Nolan closed his eyes with a groan.
Miss Hargreaves absently grasped the tiny fingers and blotted them with her napkin. “Gracious, where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced us. Victoria is the oldest, Caroline is the middle child and you’re sitting next to Miss Elizabeth. You can call me Tilly. That’s short for Matilda.”
“I three,” Elizabeth stated, holding up the proper number of sticky fingers in confirmation.
Nolan scooted nearer the edge of the bench. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“I Isbeth,” the toddler said.
Tilly rolled her eyes. “My mother named my sister and me after her two favorite queens of England. Eleanor followed suit.” Tilly leaned over Elizabeth’s head and whispered in his ear. “That’s probably the only good thing that came of my brother-in-law Walter’s passing. Who wants a niece named Eadgifu? I’m sure she was a fine queen, but what an atrocious name.”
Her breath raised gooseflesh along the back of his neck. This close, he noted the delicate sunburn on the apples of her cheeks. Her hair was the same chestnut brown as the girls, but streaked lighter from the sun.
A suitable reply escaped him. Nolan finally settled on “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Are you talking about Papa?” Victoria asked.
“Yes.” Tilly covered the girl’s hand. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Victoria, her eyes solemn, only shrugged. “I don’t miss him as much as Mama. He was never home. When is Mama meeting us at Nanny and Poppy’s in Omaha? Will we visit you at your house after Mama arrives?”
Tilly’s lips whitened and made an exaggerated point of smoothing her napkin in her lap. “Your mother is only a week or so behind us. Of course you’ll visit me before I leave for New York. Your mother would never miss the opportunity to critique my efforts and find me wanting.”
“What does critique mean?”
Nolan glanced between the two.
Miss Hargreaves blanched. “Never mind.”
A bugle call sounded.
Instantly alert, his stomach muscles knotted.
Miss Hargreaves reached for his arm. “What’s that?”
“The cavalry,” Nolan said, stepping out of her reach.
“Is that good or bad?”
The arrival of his unexpected guests had distracted Nolan from his earlier unease. Had the cavalry been scouting him earlier? Captain Ronald, the leader of the local fort, had some odd notions. Nolan forced the tension from his shoulders and turned away from the four pairs of eyes staring expectantly at him.
“Probably nothing,” he said. “Everyone stay inside until I know whether there’s trouble or not.”
This had better be a routine check, because as long as Miss Hargreaves and her nieces remained at the relay station, the girls were his responsibility.
And if there was one thing the war hadn’t stolen from him, he took his responsibilities seriously.
* * *
After ten minutes, Tilly stood and tossed her napkin on the table. If only her brother-in-law hadn’t gone and died. Walter’s timing had never been good. Eleanor had married her father’s law clerk, a handsome fellow who might have made a good husband if it weren’t for the gold rush. Though her sister had wanted to remain living near Tilly and their father, as soon as the war ended, Walter had dragged Eleanor to the wilds of Montana in search of instant riches. They’d been gone nearly two years when he was killed in a mining accident.
Last month, Eleanor had written to say she was returning home to Omaha to live with Walter’s parents. Staying with Eleanor and Tilly’s widowed father was out of the question. Their father had never been much for disruption even before their mother’s death.
Eleanor had demanded Tilly’s assistance with their travels. Though frustrated by the delay in her own plans, Tilly had dutifully made the trip. Except nothing had gone as Tilly had expected.
Claiming she couldn’t finish tying up the loose ends of Walter’s passing with the children underfoot, Eleanor had sent Tilly and the girls ahead of her. Alone.
A fierce quarrel, conducted in hushed tones in deference to the girls, had ensued. In her usual high-handed manner, Eleanor had instructed Tilly to care for the girls better than Tilly had cared for her
clothing and belongings as a child. The argument was old and recycled, and Tilly invariably lost. Eleanor was five years older and had an excellent memory. She’d dredged up every item of hers that Tilly had lost or broken over the years. When they’d reached the inevitable point in the argument when Eleanor recalled a borrowed dress Tilly had ruined with spilled punch, Tilly had thrown up her hands and relented.
Though not without a few muttered annoyances.
After all, if Eleanor thought so little of Tilly’s abilities, why entrust her with the girls? Eleanor had responded by pointing out that Tilly merely had to board the stagecoach in Virginia City, and disembark in Omaha.
The unspoken words had been cutting and obvious—even Tilly couldn’t botch such a simple task.
“I’m going to check on Mr. West,” Tilly said. “You three stay here.”
Elizabeth grinned. “I three.”
The child was inordinately pleased with her recent birthday.
“You should be very proud. It’s a very advanced age.”
Tilly stepped outside and glanced at the sky. A flotilla of angry clouds had formed along the horizon. Perfect. More rain. For the past week, there’d been nothing but rain, rain and more rain. The stagecoach had nearly gotten stuck more than once, and floating across the Niobrara River had been precarious against the swift tide.
Tilly paused midstride. A half a dozen cavalry officers on horseback had mustered in the clearing between the relay station and Main Street. Their uniforms might have been crisp and blue at one point, but the men were covered in a fine coat of trail dust. The gold braiding on their hats was frayed, and their brass buttons tarnished from wear.
“You didn’t tell us you had guests,” a voice drawled. “Be careful, West, or you’ll lose your reputation as a recluse.”
The man speaking was clearly the leader of the bunch. He leaned slightly forward, letting the reins of his horse droop. The officer was handsome, with a straight nose and a strong jaw highlighted by his bushy muttonchops.
“Didn’t have a choice,” Nolan said.
The officer smoothed one hand down the front of his coat. “Introduce me.”
Her gaze slid toward Mr. West. He stood with his feet braced apart and his arms crossed over his chest. Of the two men, she much preferred the clean-shaven stagecoach employee. He was too rugged to be strictly handsome. His jaw was too strong, his nose too aquiline and his mouth too hard for what passed for true masculine beauty. His hair might have been blond as a child, but had darkened to a tawny brown with age. Yet there was something compelling about him, a mystery in the depths of those hazel eyes. If she had more time here, she’d relish the challenge of solving the puzzle of his clipped answers and taciturn silence.
Except she wasn’t sticking around any longer than absolutely necessary, especially now that Eleanor was returning. Being under Eleanor’s thumb these past few days had only reinforced Tilly’s decision. She was heartily sick of always being judged and found lacking.
Following the end of the war, when her father’s law clerks had returned, the work she’d done in their absence had been gradually removed from her oversight. She was bored and restless.
The cavalry officer grinned at her, and touched the brim of his hat. “Captain Ronald, miss. At your disposal.”
Tilly plastered a cheerful look on her face. His attention was less flattering than perfunctory. If Eleanor was here, she knew from experience that he’d hardly spare her a glance.
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’m Miss Hargreaves.”
“Where’s Perry?” Nolan demanded.
At the growl in his voice, Tilly took an unconscious step back. Clearly there was animosity simmering between the two men.
“Perry is patrolling another area,” Captain Ronald said. “You’ll have to deal with me, much as it pains you.” He turned his attention toward Tilly. “Don’t you worry about the danger, ma’am. We’ve got extra patrols between here and Omaha. You’ll be as safe as a baby in a cradle.”
“Danger?” Shock rippled through Tilly. “What danger?”
“As I said, don’t you worry your pretty little head, ma’am.” The captain touched the yellow handkerchief knotted around his neck. “The mining company is sending a shipment of gold from Virginia City on one of the stagecoaches, and we’ve gotten word that Dakota Red and his brother are in the area. They busted out of jail and need money. Nothing for you to fret about, though. We’re sending out a decoy to trap them. When they hold up the wrong stagecoach, we’ll nab them.”
“That sounds rather dangerous.”
“Nothing my boys can’t handle.”
Tilly thought she heard a low guffaw, but when she turned toward Nolan, his face was impassive.
“Why the stagecoach?” Nolan demanded. “Why aren’t they shipping the gold on the riverboat?”
“The last riverboat sunk, and they haven’t replaced it yet. Why do you think your stagecoach traffic has doubled? There’s a lot happening in the world. You ought to get out of the wilderness once in a while, Nolan.”
The stagecoach man made a sound of disgust. “The mining company ought to wait on shipping that gold. That haul is as good as stolen.”
His conviction chilled Tilly. What if the outlaws robbed the stagecoach near Pyrite?
“I’m traveling with children.” She made a feeble gesture toward the relay station. “Are you certain it’s safe for us here?”
“Children?” The captain’s interest seemed to slacken at the mention of her nieces. “Dakota Red and his brother were spotted on the other side of the river. There’s only one place to cross, which means they can’t travel south without one of my men spotting them. This relay station is the best place to be, given the circumstances. You’re safe under my watch.”
He added a self-satisfied grin that was probably meant to inspire her trust.
“Thank you, Captain Ronald.” She offered an overly bright smile in return. Since there was little chance of them meeting again, she might as well humor the man. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she trusted Nolan’s assessment of the situation more than the cavalry officer’s opinion. “I appreciate both your concern and the protection of your men.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” His sat up straighter, puffing out his chest. “If those boys so much as sneeze, we’ll know.”
“I’m sure your men are more than capable.” Despite the captain’s assurances, a nagging sense of unease lingered. “I appreciate your vigilance.”
If something happened to the girls, she’d never forgive herself. Both her father and Eleanor had been frustrated by her irresponsibility in the past. Their criticism was exaggerated, though not entirely unfounded. She wasn’t exactly irresponsible, she was simply distracted easily. While the two of them could focus on one task to the exclusion of all else, Tilly preferred flitting from activity to activity. Her lack of commitment drove them to distraction.
“Aunt Tilly!” Victoria hollered from the doorway of the relay station. “You’d best come quick. Caroline is sick again.”
“Oh, dear. Duty calls, Captain Ronald.”
“Don’t let me keep you.” The captain touched the brim of his hat, a slight hint of distaste marring his handsome face. “We’ll scout the area. Those outlaws will be in custody in no time.”
“Much obliged, Captain,” Tilly said.
The captain signaled to his men, and the unit broke into a canter.
Tilly hastily returned inside. To her surprise, Mr. West was close on her heels.
Caroline had slumped over the table. Her arm was hooked over her head. “I feel worse, Aunt Tilly.”
“I gathered as much,” Tilly soothed.
Caroline was a replica of Eleanor at that age.
Because of their age difference, following the death of their mother, Eleanor had tak
en over the role of matriarch in the family. Eleanor had been a strict parent, stricter even than their father. Now the task of caring for Caroline fell to Tilly, though she was ill-suited for the role. She knew one thing for certain—she was going to be a far less severe guardian than Eleanor.
“I’ll fetch you some water,” Tilly said, uncertain how else to assist her niece.
She’d never been one to play house and care for dolls the way Eleanor had. She’d never been much for courting, either. Eleanor had always been the sister who attracted romantic attention, while Tilly had been the sister that men befriended. Usually in the hopes of getting closer to Eleanor.
Tilly had the uneasy feeling that her sister’s marriage had not been entirely happy. Though Eleanor had always denied any discontent, with each subsequent visit home, she’d become a shell of her former self. If the life Eleanor had been dreaming about since she was a child had done that to her, Tilly wanted no part of marriage. She refused to suffer the same fate as her sister.
“There’s a room in the back,” Mr. West said. “Caroline can rest there.”
Relief rushed through Tilly. “Thank you, Mr. West.”
“Call me Nolan.”
He scooped Caroline into his arms and carried her down the corridor. Grateful for his assistance, Tilly trailed after them. The room he’d chosen was sparsely furnished with only a bed and a small table, but the space was spotless. He rested Caroline on the counterpane.
Tilly touched his arm, and the muscles tensed beneath her fingers.
“Is she going to be all right?” she asked. “Do you think we should send for a doctor?”
“The nearest doctor is in the village of Yankton, and that’s a two-day ride. There’s a fellow who comes through town once in a while, but I never know when.” Nolan pressed the backs of his knuckles against Caroline’s forehead. “She’s not running a fever. It’s probably just something she ate.”
A Temporary Family Page 2