A Temporary Family

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A Temporary Family Page 13

by Sherri Shackelford


  He returned to the relay station to clean up the kitchen, and stopped short inside the door. Every surface gleamed.

  Tilly splayed her arms and smiled. “You’ll notice all the pots and pans are in their proper places.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I did. I’m sorry I left such a mess last night. In all the excitement, I forgot to thank you for cleaning up.”

  “I didn’t mind.”

  “I did. This is your home, and I know you like things neat. It was terribly rude of me to leave a mess.”

  “You were tired.”

  “Yes, but that’s no excuse.” She lifted a stack of towels. “Look. I folded them each exactly the same size. All the edges are even.”

  Nausea roiled in his stomach. “I don’t know what to say.”

  He certainly hadn’t done a very good job of hiding his compulsions. She’d noticed everything. All the pots were hung in their places; all the jars were lined by height. The plates were even stacked in neat, even-numbered piles.

  She scrubbed at a smudge on the counter. “There. It’s perfect. Now you have no excuse.”

  “Excuse for what?”

  “You have no excuse not to come with the girls and me. We have a special adventure planned, and we need your help.”

  She motioned him to follow her outside, where the girls waited. “We’re going down by the river. We’re looking for something.”

  “What?”

  “You have to wait. It’s a surprise.”

  He plastered a disinterested look on his face. “I’ll stay behind.”

  “You can’t. The girls are already looking forward to their surprise. You can’t let them down.”

  He had no excuse to stay. Nothing. Tilly had scrubbed the surfaces and left everything neat and tidy. He had no excuse. No excuse except that he was a coward.

  He was supposed to be healing in solitude. With the arrival of the girls, he’d lapsed. Worse yet, his compulsions were spreading to his houseguests.

  She tilted her head, a crease between her brows, her bluebell eyes troubled. “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “Then you’ve never been surprised by me.”

  His heart sat heavy in his chest. She’d surprised him at every turn, and that’s why he feared her. She brought vitality to his life and created shared, life affirming experiences. She’d brought light and love to his shadowed world.

  And what had he brought her?

  She’d spent the morning arranging the pans by size.

  They were unequal partners. She brought joy, and he brought nothing but his obsessive need to control his environment. She had everything to offer, and he had nothing to give.

  Though he was looking forward to his solitude once more, he’d miss them when they were gone.

  No surprise there.

  Chapter Eleven

  The girls giggled. Tilly shot them a quelling look.

  Nolan frowned at her. “What are you looking for?”

  “We’ll tell you when we find it.”

  Holding hands, the two oldest sisters skipped ahead. Elizabeth struggled to keep up, but soon fell behind. The toddler plopped onto her bottom in the center of the path and burst into tears.

  Nolan kneeled beside her. “Why don’t you walk with me instead?”

  Elizabeth eyed him warily. “They bad.”

  “Yes. They are very naughty for running ahead and leaving you behind.”

  The toddler stretched out her hands and flexed her fingers. “Up.”

  Nolan hoisted her into his arms. “Do you want to make them jealous?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then I’ll make you taller than both of them. You’ll be the tallest sister in the family.”

  He hoisted her onto his shoulders. She squealed in delight and grasped the brim of his hat, crumpling the leather.

  Beside him, Tilly grinned. “She’s very fond of you.”

  Nolan returned the smile. “I didn’t have siblings growing up. I admit that I’m sometimes dismayed at the amount of fighting they do.”

  “I can assure you, the fighting is perfectly normal. My sister and I fought quite often. She’s five years older, and inevitably won the argument. She has a spotless memory. It’s terribly annoying having an argument with someone who has such excellent recollection of events.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “I think she resented me. She was an only child for five wonderful years, and received all the attention. Then I was born, and our mother died shortly afterward. You know, until now, I hadn’t really thought of how Eleanor must have felt when she was five. She lost her mother and received a squalling infant sister in return. That must have been very confusing at five years old.”

  “That’s hardly your fault.”

  “No, but it’s a sobering thought. For her, I must have been a reminder of our mother’s death.”

  She paused in the center of the path. As a child she’d visited a secluded garden built in the center of the city. Opening the gate had transported her into an entirely different world. The unexpected view had given her a new perspective on the world around her. From then on, she’d always had a curiosity about what was hidden behind each corner.

  Thinking about Eleanor as a child gave her that same feeling. As though she was opening a door to a world she’d never seen before. A world she’d never imagined. A world she’d taken for granted.

  “Aunt Tilly,” one of the girls shouted from farther up the path. “Aunt Tilly, we’ve found the perfect tree!”

  Tilly skipped ahead while Nolan and Elizabeth followed behind.

  She paused and stared at a large cottonwood perched on the banks of the river, then planted her hands on her hips. “This is perfect.”

  “Perfect for what?” Nolan asked, catching up to her.

  “For a swing, of course. We’ll need a rope and a wooden plank for a seat. Do you think you can help us?”

  Tilly couldn’t help her stab of pride. The idea was inspired. The activity would keep the girls busy while they waited for the impending rescue. Though she was grateful the cavalry was near, she wasn’t confident in Captain Ronald’s abilities. Nolan didn’t like the man, and she trusted his instincts. The safety of the girls was their greatest concern.

  They were also remarkably astute for their ages. If she didn’t find a way of distracting them, they’d immediately sense the unease among the adults.

  “I can help,” Nolan replied. “But I’ll need some assistants.”

  Victoria’s hand shot into the air and Caroline followed suit.

  “Me! Me!” they both shouted.

  “All right,” he said. “I have two helpers.”

  “Me, too, me, too!” Elizabeth, still perched on his shoulders, slapped her hands against his hat. “I help.”

  “I have three helpers. Let’s go back to the livery and gather our supplies.”

  As they passed the undertaker’s house, whoops and hollers drifted through the open windows. Shouts of anger soon followed. Tilly and Nolan exchanged a look. Judging by the few words she could make out, someone had lost a great deal of money in cards.

  Caroline glanced in the direction of the commotion. “When will those men be leaving?”

  “Soon,” Tilly said. “Very, very soon. Until then, remember what we talked about. Stay far away from them.”

  All three girls nodded solemnly.

  The reminder of the men put a temporary damper on the festivities, but as soon as they gathered their supplies, the mood lightened once more.

  They retrieved a broken floorboard from the abandoned building where Tilly had fallen. The girls crowded around as Nolan cut and sanded the edges,
then augured holes in the sides for the rope.

  Victoria rested her chin on her hands. “Why do you have chalk marks everywhere?”

  “So I know where my tools belong.” Nolan glanced up. “Then I don’t lose things.”

  “Mama is like that. She’s always hollering at us to put things away.”

  Caroline giggled and shook her index finger, planting her opposite hand on her hip. “That’s not how you stack your blocks, girls. Largest to smallest.”

  “Quite right.” Victoria mimicked her sister’s posture. “We can’t leave the house until everything is spotless.”

  Caroline sobered. “Which means we rarely get to leave the house.”

  “Papa managed to leave the house every day,” Victoria said. “I think that’s why he spent so much time at the mine, because he could never make things good enough for Mama.”

  Busy with knotting the rope around the wooden seat of the swing, Tilly listened to their chatter with half an ear, then slapped her hands on her knees and stood. “Come along. We mustn’t speak of your mother that way.” She lowered her voice. “Does she make certain your stockings are separated by color?”

  The girls eagerly nodded. “Yes. She’s terribly cross if we don’t.”

  “Do you know how I solved that problem? I insisted on only wearing black stockings. Summer, winter, spring and fall. I would only wear the black stockings. That way, I didn’t have to worry about sorting them!”

  The girls giggled.

  Nolan followed their exchange, an odd expression on his face.

  “Is everything all right?” Tilly asked.

  “Almost finished.” He tightened the first knot in the rope wrapped around the wooden seat and straightened. “The swing is almost ready.”

  “We should make a picnic lunch,” Caroline said.

  “Absolutely,” Tilly agreed. “We’ll need a blanket and a basket. We’ll have a proper picnic.”

  “I’ll get started with hanging the swing,” Nolan said. “You four can catch up.”

  Tilly paused. Though reluctant to separate, she didn’t see any harm in letting Nolan proceed ahead of them. “All right.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I go with No-wan.”

  He reached for the toddler’s hand. “I don’t mind. She can walk with me.”

  “All right,” Tilly said. “The rest of us will fetch lunch and catch up with you two.”

  He hoisted the coil of rope over his shoulder and tucked the wood plank beneath his arm. Elizabeth clutched the fingers of his free hand. Tilly smiled indulgently. He was growing accustomed to Elizabeth’s childish affection.

  She recalled the odd look on Nolan’s face and stopped in her tracks. She mentally slapped her forehead. They’d been joking about Eleanor’s mannerisms, the same mannerisms Nolan shared. No wonder he’d been quiet. They’d been mocking him right in front of his face.

  She vowed to be more careful in the future. From what she recalled growing up, Eleanor couldn’t change even if she wanted to. Her sister liked things a certain way. There was nothing wrong with that. Tilly vowed to be more understanding of her sister...and Nolan.

  With renewed determination, she set off to prepare their picnic lunch.

  She’d simply be more careful in the future.

  Her footsteps slowed, and her enthusiasm waned. However much future they had together.

  * * *

  Elizabeth pointed. “What that?”

  “That plant is called goldenrod,” Nolan said.

  The ditch along the stagecoach path leading to the river had filled with rainwater, giving rise to a plush blanket of prairie grasses near the edges. Wildlife and plants flourished in the ideal conditions.

  “What’s that?”

  “That’s a bullfrog. There are always more bullfrogs when there’s been a lot of rain.”

  “Why?”

  “They like the rain.”

  Oddly enough, her incessant chatter and questions took his mind off the nagging sense that he was forgetting something important. He’d struggled with the affliction in the past. When he kept to his routine, the feelings didn’t bother him as much. Since the girls had arrived, he was constantly on edge, with an undercurrent of anxiety constantly nipping at his heels.

  He didn’t know what to make of the children’s earlier discussion. They loved their mother, but they recognized her faults. This morning Tilly had cheerfully cleaned the kitchen to his standards. How long, though, until he drove her away? The girls had spoken innocently, but even they had sensed the tension their mother’s obsessive tidiness had caused.

  The anxiety was a constant companion, as though someone had wrapped a band around his throat. If the girls were not here, he’d return to the relay station and count his tools, then oil the harnesses. The monotonous labor didn’t loosen the band, but the work distracted him, and that was enough.

  When they arrived by the river’s edge, Nolan climbed the tree they’d chosen earlier. He braced his hand on the branch and stared across the valley. Was the cavalry crossing the river yet? Anticipation built in his chest along with a nagging sense of unease. He’d rather be acting than sitting around and waiting for a rescue.

  He caught sight of Elizabeth below and the tension eased. Keeping the girls busy while they waited was a noble cause. They were smart and perceptive. They sensed something was wrong with the adults without fully understanding the cause.

  He was grateful Perry had trusted his instincts and gone against the captain’s directive. Their options were growing more limited by the day. Nolan grasped the rope and rigged the swing before shimmying down once more.

  “Me first!” Elizabeth demanded.

  “You’re first,” he agreed.

  By the time the picnic lunch arrived, Elizabeth had gotten the hang of swinging. Her two sisters skipped down the path, each of them dangling a bucket from one hand.

  They caught sight of Elizabeth’s merry swinging and paused.

  “I’m next!” they both shouted in unison.

  “I said it first,” Victoria insisted.

  “Did not.” Caroline’s lower lip protruded. “I said it first.”

  Tilly, a blanket clutched beneath her arm, sighed. “You know the rules. Stone, paper, scissors. Best two out of three wins.”

  The girls grumbled before dutifully facing each other.

  Pounding one fist into the opposite palm, they said in unison, “Stone, paper, scissors, shoe.”

  On the last word, they each presented their hand in either a fist, a flattened palm, or a scissor.

  After three rounds, Caroline emerged victorious.

  Victoria scuffed the ground. “She always wins.”

  “She does not always win,” Tilly said. “It simply feels as though she always wins.”

  “Same difference.”

  Tilly rolled her eyes. “You will all get a turn. Mr. West and I will keep track of the time. Everything will be fair.”

  She spread the blanket on an area of flattened grass, swept her skirts aside, then sat. Victoria huffed and plopped beside her aunt.

  The girl scratched her cheek. “Why do those men staying at the undertaker’s house think you two are married?”

  Nolan’s heart slammed against his ribs. “Did you tell them any different?”

  “No. I heard them talking. They were calling Aunt Tilly your wife. I just wondered.”

  “Well, uh, you see,” Tilly stuttered. “It’s a long story.”

  “Is it a boring story?”

  “Extremely boring and extremely long.”

  “I thought so.” Victoria wrinkled her nose. “Adult stories are always boring.”

  “In the extreme.” Tilly flashed Nolan a relieved glance over the girls’ heads. “It was better for us
if we let those men believe that Mr. West and I were married.”

  “I understand. Mama said it was better for us if the merchants in town thought Papa’s mine had gold.”

  Tilly’s expression grew speculative. Nolan scrubbed his hands down his face. The sooner they were rescued, the better. He didn’t know the extent of Eleanor’s misfortunes, but the glimpses the girls had let slip painted a grim picture of her circumstances.

  Plucking at the corner of the blanket, Tilly pursed her lips. Eleanor was keeping secrets from her family. From what he’d gathered, Eleanor took great pride in appearances. Snippets of conversations he’d had with Tilly drifted through his recollections.

  Eleanor was perfect.

  If Tilly had been given the role of rambunctious younger sister, then Eleanor had been given the role of perfect older sister. Their father had reinforced their positions in the family with his words. Old habits were hard to break.

  Nolan collapsed back on his elbows. The girls took turns swinging. When they’d exhausted their interest, they grasped the leftover length of rope. With Victoria and Caroline holding each end, Elizabeth jumped rope. The older girls circled the rope slowly in deference to her younger age.

  When the sisters were fully distracted, Tilly crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe Eleanor never said anything to me about what was happening. She made all of us believe she and Walter were doing well. The more I hear from the girls, the more I realize that she was lying to us all along. She didn’t trust me with the truth.”

  “She didn’t trust your father, either.”

  “She didn’t trust any of us. We might have done something. We might have helped.” Tilly pressed her index fingers against her eyes. “We fought before I left with the girls. She was acting particularly atrocious, even for Eleanor.”

  “I suspect that admitting the truth would have damaged her pride.”

  “Perfect Eleanor isn’t quite so perfect.”

  “Yes.”

  “But none of this is her fault.” Tilly made a sound of frustration. “Walter was the one who dragged them to Virginia City in the first place. His greed led to their downfall.” She jerked her chin over one shoulder. “Nothing good comes of people searching for quick riches. Greed will land those three in jail soon.”

 

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