Читать книгу The Rancher's Christmas Proposal - Sherri Shackelford - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Searching for a way to gently extract herself from the tense situation, Tessa took a discreet step back. She’d already caused enough trouble for Mr. McCoy, and the more she delayed, the more trouble she caused for herself as well.

Mrs. Lund smoothed the hair from her temple. “I blame Abby for this. She never had a lick of sense. Always running with the wrong sorts of people. Look at what it got her. I suppose I should have known she’d marry someone cut from the same cloth. Blood will out, as they say.”

Tessa gazed at the two beautiful children. “Yes, blood will out.” If the twins were any indication, Abby had not been cut from the same cloth as her sister. “By way of apology, perhaps I could distract the children while the two of you speak alone.”

Shocked by her impulsive suggestion, she froze. Really, this was none of her business, and she was being terribly forward, but the poor widower looked as though he had a few choice words for his sister-in-law that were best exchanged in private.

A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I believe you’re right, Miss Spencer. Mrs. Lund and I have a great deal to discuss.”

“Call me Tessa.”

“Then you must call me Shane.”

His sister-in-law made an exaggerated show of straightening her hair and pressing her clothing with flattened palms. Tessa glanced warily between the two. There were fireworks coming, that much was certain. Mrs. Lund had best not underestimate her brother-in-law. Tessa sensed a spine of steel behind that even-tempered exterior.

Clearing her throat, Tessa drew their attention. “There’s an ice cream parlor across the street. Why don’t I arrange a treat for the children and let you and Mrs. Lund have a moment in private?”

Shane hesitated. “Are you certain?”

“Positive.” Despite his assurances, she did feel somewhat responsible. When she’d thought Mrs. Lund might strike the boy, she’d seen red, and her instincts had taken over. Though she didn’t regret her actions, she had set this chain of events into motion. “We’ll take a seat by the window. That way, you can see us as well.”

He gestured toward a young porter standing vigil near the ticket office. “Can you store the lady’s trunk?”

“Right away, sir.”

Tessa noted the cut of the freckle-faced porter’s clothing and took stock of his shiny new shoes. He was obviously well paid, which meant there was no reason for him to rifle through her belongings for valuables.

“Thank you, Shane,” she said. “For your thoughtfulness.”

“Enough.” Mrs. Lund snorted. “I don’t have all day while the two of you chatter about nonsense.”

“I believe that’s my cue.” Tessa knelt and gathered the twins close. Emmett had always discouraged the wasting of one’s charm on the charmless. “Your dad says it’s all right if I take you for ice cream. Is that all right with you?”

The two exchanged a glance.

Owen nodded. “Ga.”

“High praise indeed.”

She led them across the street and took a table near the window. Their vantage was doubly useful since Shane could keep sight of his children, and she could keep watch for Dead Eye. She didn’t suppose outlaws frequented ice cream parlors. So long as she didn’t attract more attention to herself, she was safe. For the moment.

Oblivious to the drama unfolding on their behalf, the twins were instead fascinated with the intricacies of the metal scrollwork chairs. Alyce knelt backward on the seat and traced her finger around the twisted heart pattern. Attempting to climb up as well, Owen pushed her aside. Alyce shoved him back.

“There’s no need to fight.” Tessa scraped another chair closer. “Wouldn’t you like your very own seat, Owen?”

He squinted, then crossed his arms over his chest and stubbornly glared at his sister.

Shrugging, Tessa sat and pivoted her legs beneath the table. “How very nice it is to have a chair all to oneself. Makes one feel very grown up.”

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Owen carefully rested his ball on the table and claimed his own seat. Though pleased with her success, she kept her emotions hidden lest Owen catch on.

Only a few tables in the parlor were occupied, showcasing the black-and-white tile floor and the blue-and-white-checkered curtains hanging from the windows. During the height of the summer season, the shop must burst at the seams. With a slight chill in the fall air, business had obviously slowed.

She studied the list of choices. “I believe the special today is chocolate. Chocolate is a fine choice, on any occasion.”

After taking their order, the grandmotherly shop owner clasped her hands. “My, but your children are well behaved. And so lovely, too. If you don’t mind me saying so, they’re the spitting image of you, ma’am.”

Without waiting for an answer, the woman circled back around the counter.

Tessa tugged her lower lip between her teeth. Explaining her actual relationship with the children seemed unnecessarily complicated. She’d always adored children, though life with Emmett hadn’t afforded much opportunity to be around them. Considering her current predicament, she didn’t suppose there’d be much opportunity in the future either. A pall fell over her once more. Always before she’d had hope, but the passing of time had relentlessly drained her optimism.

She rolled the ball across the table and Owen stopped it before it tumbled off. Alyce found the game more entertaining than tracing the metal scrollwork and joined in the fun. The task took a great deal of concentration and giggling.

An elderly couple seated nearby watched their antics with indulgent smiles.

The woman leaned toward Tessa. “You have a lovely family. Makes me think of my own children at that age. Enjoy this time. It passes quickly.”

Feeling a fraud, Tessa murmured a few polite words in response. They were strangers. She’d never see them again. And yet she was no better than Emmett was—playing a game of smoke and mirrors based on assumptions. Worse yet, the game was all too familiar, almost comfortable, like donning one’s winter coat after a long summer.

The shop owner returned and handed Tessa two folded flour sacks.

“Their outfits are so pretty,” the woman said. “I’d hate to see them mussed.”

Grateful for the shopkeeper’s thoughtfulness, and still feeling a touch guilty, Tessa knotted the sacks around the squirming children. A tug of longing surprised her once again. There was no reason to be maudlin. Emmett had loved her dearly, she’d never doubted that, but he’d always been slightly befuddled with having a little girl around.

Over the years, ladies from the boardinghouses and saloons where they’d stayed had occasionally taken her under their wing, showing her how to fix her hair and dress properly. Sometimes she felt as though she’d had scores of mothers, and other times she felt as though she’d had none at all. Everyone had different expectations, and she’d spent much of her life puzzling out her role with new people.

One way or another, she’d been searching for something elusive all her life. Just once she wanted affection without expectations. Someone who knew who she really was and loved her all the same. Her fingers tightened around Owen’s ball. An impossible hope considering her past.

As the shop owner placed two bowls of ice cream before the children, a grim-faced Mr. McCoy stepped inside. He doffed his hat and took the remaining seat.

Alyce snatched her bowl and lapped at the ice cream. Laughing, Tessa pulled the bowl away. Now sporting a chocolate beard, the toddler groped for her spoon. Tugging the utensil out of reach, Tessa wiped the sticky mess from Alyce’s face.

Shane lifted his spoon and turned toward Owen. The boy worked his mouth like a baby bird.

“They haven’t mastered the fork and spoon yet,” he said. “Sometimes it’s best if we assist.”

“Of course.” Tessa stole a glance at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Is everything all right?”

“We’ve decided Mrs. Lund is far too busy to watch the children over the winter.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best. You’re a good father, keeping them with you. You’ve done the right thing.”

He flushed beneath her praise and looked away. “Miss Spencer, thank you for your help. I hadn’t met Mrs. Lund before today. I had no idea she was quite so...harsh.”

Tessa tilted her head. How odd the widower had never met his sister-in-law before today. Then again, she didn’t know much about how regular families worked.

His expression turned severe. “She had other reasons for wanting the children. I can’t abide falsehoods.”

Instantly chilled, Tessa ducked her head. “Have you considered placing an advertisement? An older woman, perhaps a widow, would not attract gossip.”

There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes that had her wary. For a moment the idea of living in the wilds had struck her as the perfect solution. Before she’d realized the impossibility of such a plan. Despite having been raised by an unconventional parent, she understood propriety all too well. While she wasn’t particularly vain, she was too young and too unattached for the role of housekeeper. Which made losing her job at the Harvey House all the more catastrophic. There were few opportunities for single ladies. She’d seen the life of a saloon girl firsthand living with Emmett, and while she understood desperation, she’d do anything to avoid that fate.

Shane collapsed back in his chair and raked his hands through his hair. “Abby had certain...wishes.” A shadow passed over his face. “I’ve backed myself into a corner. With winter coming, I’m running out of time. An advertisement could take weeks. I’d have to wait on the post. Then the applicants must be carefully scrutinized. We live in tight quarters on the ranch.”

Tessa stared at the spoon clutched between her fingers. “I should never have interfered in something that was none of my concern. I’ve had a lot on my mind recently.”

“You’re afraid of someone, aren’t you?”

Her head snapped up. “Why would you say that?”

Her acting skills had obviously rusted.

“A few things. Like the way you sat so you could keep an eye on the door. And before, at the train station, you were as jumpy as an outlaw in a room full of deputies. Are you a runaway heiress or something?”

Tessa fiddled with the lace at her collar. “Nothing so romantic, I’m afraid.”

Clearing her throat, she glanced away. The outlaw-and-deputies analogy had struck a little too close to home.

“If someone is bothering you,” he said, “perhaps I can help.”

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” Though she hadn’t expected an instant shower of riches, she’d thought living a moral life might result in a bit more reward and a bit less trouble. Carefully choosing her next words, she said, “I’ve attracted the attention of a somewhat shady character.”

That wasn’t too far from the truth. Nor was it a lie. Dead Eye Dan was definitely a shady character.

Shane’s eyes widened. “Who is this person?”

“He, uh...he came into the Harvey House where I work. Worked. He’s been asking about me.” Which was also the truth. Maybe not the entire truth, but a good portion of it. “I have reason to believe he’s an outlaw.”

A really, really good reason.

She imagined Dead Eye Dan trolling through town with the daguerreotype picture of her that he’d flashed at the Harvey House. The picture he’d obviously stolen from her father. She’d seen such events play out before with startling predictability. As long as the outlaw concocted a believable tale, each person she’d met this morning would proudly declare her whereabouts. People enjoyed feeling helpful. Meaning the more time she spent with Mr. McCoy, the more she put him and his family in danger as well.

Shane offered Owen another bite and caught her gaze. “Outlaws dine at the Harvey House?”

“Everyone dines at the Harvey House. We have the best prices and our service is impeccable.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He paused. “You don’t happen to know this fellow’s name?”

Skirting the truth had the unfortunate side effect of leaving too many openings for pointed questions. Tessa considered making a run for the door, then discarded the idea. She’d only attract more attention. And, really, what harm was in a name?

“He’s called Dead Eye Dan Fulton.”

Shane scoffed, “That is the worst outlaw name I’ve ever heard.”

“Not very clever, I know.” Tessa laughed in spite of herself. “He has a meandering eye. It’s terribly difficult to carry on a conversation with him because you never can tell which eye is looking at you... I’m rambling again.”

“I’m curious.” Shane removed the flour sacking from around Owen’s neck and wiped his chocolate-covered fingers. “Why don’t you simply turn him over to the sheriff?”

“Staying out of his way seemed the best solution. I wouldn’t want to anger him.”

Or his brothers. She couldn’t very well tell Shane about the rest of the Fultons either. Just like she couldn’t tell him that if she turned in Dead Eye, the outlaw would guess her involvement in a heartbeat.

The Fultons might not be the smartest men, but they weren’t the dumbest either. “As you can probably imagine, one does not rebuke the advances of an outlaw without consequence.”

“I see your point.” Shane tipped the glass bowl and scooped out another bite. “Then you’ve decided to abscond like a thief in the night.”

Tessa sighed. There it was again, that unfortunate reference to thievery. “Despite what the poets say, absence does not make the heart grow fonder. He’ll forget about me soon enough once I’m out of his sight.”

She hoped.

The door opened and she leaped halfway out of her chair then sat back down with a thud. The elderly couple who’d admired the children earlier were leaving. No need for panic.

“Sorry,” she said. “Thought I saw someone I knew.”

To her immense relief, Shane appeared unfazed by her weak excuse. “You’ve had a rough go of it, haven’t you?”

A sharp pain throbbed in her temple. She wasn’t lying, though, not exactly. She was withholding certain facts for his protection. Men like Mr. McCoy didn’t understand men like Dead Eye.

Despite the bolstering thought, or maybe because of it, she averted her gaze before biting the inside of her cheek.

Emmett had been certain she’d fail on her own, certain she’d come crawling back, begging for his help. He could have at least had the courtesy to be available for the begging-and-crawling portion when the time arrived. “I’m starting on a new adventure. It’s very exciting.”

Exciting in the sort of way a catastrophic train wreck was exciting, but rousing all the same.

A shadow passed before the window, and she shrank back, dipping her head and covering her face. Everyone simply assumed they were a loving family enjoying the afternoon, and she’d relaxed into the illusion. She’d taken for granted the respectability of traveling with Emmett. Alone, she attracted all sorts of unwanted stares and attention.

Bolstering her courage, she stood. She’d made her choice, and she had no one to blame but herself if the going was difficult. Her heart heavy, she reached out and brushed the backs of her knuckles along the cushion of Alyce’s cheek, then ruffled Owen’s hair.

The twins had devoured what ice cream hadn’t melted and claimed their spoons. They were having great fun sweeping their fingers around the glass bowl, seeking every last drop. The task took a great deal of concentration, which meant Tessa had lost her last excuse for lingering.

The ticking clock above the counter propelled her forward. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. McCoy. You have a beautiful family. Despite your difficulties this morning, I feel certain you will prevail.”

She squared her shoulders and focused on the door. The important part was not looking back. Emmett always said that life was not meant to be traveled backward.

Shane caught her hand. “Wait.”

She mustn’t turn around. All of her instincts screamed that he expected something from her. She knew full well she’d never live up to those expectations.

Certainly she’d never been one to linger over little heartbreaks and trivial disappointments. This morning when she’d realized her time at the Harvey House was at an end, she’d set out with dogged resolve. Though she mourned the loss of her delicate new friendships, she hadn’t faltered.

Yet her feet remained rooted in place. She didn’t believe in fate, but something had brought them together on that platform. Of all the people passing through the station, Owen had found her. Surely that meant something in the grand scheme of things.

The preacher at the tent revival had said that in helping others one helped oneself. But what did a retired thief have to offer?

Shane released her hand. “Hear me out. Please.”

The appeal in his voice scattered the last vestiges of her good sense. “I’m listening.”