Читать книгу A Temporary Family - Sherri Shackelford - Страница 14

Chapter Five

The shotgun layout of the relay station allowed Nolan to view all the exits. There were two rooms flanking the front entrance, which opened to the kitchen and dining room areas, and two rooms lining the corridor to the rear exit. He crossed the space and peered out the back door. The top of Caroline’s head was visible behind a tangle of blackberry bushes. The girls laughed with each other, blissfully unaware of the tension brewing in the relay station.

The task should keep them busy for at least another thirty minutes, give or take.

He cast a glance at the door leading to his bedroom. How long did Tilly have before the outlaw grew suspicious? His gun wasn’t exactly concealed, but he hadn’t painted a bull’s-eye on the barrel, either.

Snyder flopped onto one of the dining room chairs. He hooked his heel over the rung of a second chair, yanked the legs nearer, then propped his loosely crossed ankles on the seat. Nolan clenched his jaw. Bad enough the outlaws were forcing their participation in a heist before they murdered them, but they were a slovenly bunch of fugitives, as well.

The outlaw rested his shotgun across his lap and threaded his hands behind his head. The scattergun was an odd choice, but given the item was probably stolen, the selection made more sense.

Nolan ladled beans into a serving bowl, and the outlaw grunted.

“You always do woman’s work?” the man sneered.

“With only the two of us running the station, we alternate tasks.”

The outlaw grunted again, apparently satisfied with the answer. Nolan’s gaze slid toward the partially open bedroom door. A thump sounded and Snyder straightened.

Nolan slammed down the coffeepot, pulling the man’s attention from Tilly’s activities.

“Why are you running with those two?” Nolan asked. “Seems like you’re the sort of fellow who can take care of himself.”

“I owe ’em for busting me out of jail.”

“They’re using you,” Nolan said. “They’ll kill you and take your share once they have the gold. They’re brothers. They have no allegiance to you.”

“Like you said, I’m the sort of fellow who can take care of himself.”

The big guy was smarter than he looked. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to sow the seeds of discontent now and again over the next few days. Anything the hostages could do to divide the men might ultimately aid in an escape attempt.

The gang had obviously been riding hard, and fatigue showed in the bend of Snyder’s shoulders. His eyes drifted shut. Nolan gently set the stacked plates on the table, then wiped his hands on a towel. His nerves thrummed. Tilly was taking too long. Snyder was liable to wake and burst in on her at any moment.

He started toward the bedroom. The front door slammed open. Dakota Red and his brother stumbled inside, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, their faces flushed and their eyes glassy.

“Where’s the woman?” Charlie demanded.

“Doing her hair or something,” Snyder mumbled from his half slumber.

Charlie kicked the chair from beneath his heels, jerking the outlaw upright. “You’re supposed to be watching them.”

“I am.”

Charlie slapped the back of the taller man’s head. “I told you we shoulda left this big, dumb lug behind.”

Snyder lunged upward but the quick tensing of Dakota Red’s body had him checking his actions.

“Leave him alone, Charlie,” Dakota Red snarled. “We need him. The next time he sleeps on duty, I’ll wallop him myself.”

“You say we need him.” Charlie threw up his arms. “I say we can work this heist just fine on our own.”

“Your last plan got us locked up in jail for fourteen months. I’m not swinging from a noose because you can’t hold your temper.”

The two men measured each other in silence, one deadly calm and sure, the other seething with barely concealed rage. Finally, muttering a vile imprecation, Charlie spun on his heel and stalked toward the partially closed door. The outlaw lifted his heel to kick the door, but the panel swung open before his boot made contact. The shock threw him off balance and he stumbled forward.

Tilly dodged his clumsy fall as she entered the room. Her face carefully impassive, she skirted past the prone man.

Charlie muttered another sharp curse, and Snyder chortled.

Dakota Red scowled at Snyder. “Don’t rile him up. He’s liable to shoot you, and I need a third man for this job.”

The humiliated outlaw sprang to his feet and slapped his hat against his thigh.

Nolan frantically searched Tilly’s face for any sign she’d had success in retrieving the gun, but he couldn’t read her expression. She’d pinned her hair in place once more, appearing cool and composed. Only someone looking closely would see the way she clutched her fingers together, hiding the fact that she was visibly shaking. Apprehension crawled up his nerves. He’d try again for the gun later. Snyder must have forgotten he hadn’t searched the room, because he didn’t show any sign of moving from his perch at the table.

Tilly took in the tension flickering between the three outlaws and scooted nearer to Nolan. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

Aware the outlaws were monitoring their every move, he draped his hand around her waist and drew her near. She offered a stiff smile that might have passed as a grimace. Neither of them was particularly comfortable with the ruse, but until he thought of a better plan, they were trapped in the deception. The irony didn’t escape him. He was an unlikely suitor even before the war. Women had mostly left him stammering and bashful.

Others in the prisoner camp had anxiously awaited letters from home, but his mother had died and his father didn’t write well.

The perfumed letters caused the most ribbing amongst the men. Yet there was a melancholy edge in the prisoners’ good-natured teasing. At the time, Nolan had been grateful he didn’t have a sweetheart waiting for him. Anticipating the letters was agony, and receiving a missive was joy tempered with the sure knowledge of everything the men were missing. They were supposed to be grateful they were alive, and he was—other men perished by the hundreds each day. Except balancing on the cusp of living was its own torture.

Tilly slipped from his hold and patted his cheek, then ducked into the kitchen once more. Nolan touched the spot her hand had caressed. A simple gesture, the casual affection of husband and wife. He’d best follow her lead and stay on his toes, no matter how unnatural the actions.

As she sliced the loaf of bread he’d left on the counter, Nolan finished setting the table for the outlaws.

“Ain’t you setting a place for yourselves?” Dakota Red inquired from his sprawl.

“We’ll wait until you’re finished,” Tilly replied, her voice clipped. “The girls, remember.”

“Ah, yes. Them girls who can’t keep secrets.”

She finished slicing the bread and carried the board to the table. Once she’d returned to the kitchen, she rinsed her hands and draped the towel haphazardly over the counter. Nolan automatically lifted the discarded item.

Tilly glared at him.

He glanced down.

She’d been covering the knife she’d used to slice the bread.

His ears burned.

He folded the towel in fours and rested the neat square over the knife once more.

She reached for the leather handle of the water bucket. “I’ll be right back.”

As she passed before the table, Charlie stuck out his booted foot and caught her ankles. She pitched forward and landed hard on her knees. The bucket shot from her hands and something skittered across the floor.

Rage surging through his veins, Nolan automatically reached for Tilly. Snyder squeezed his throat, holding him back.

“Well, well, well.” Dakota Red stood slowly and crossed the room. “What do we have here?” He lifted the object from the floor, and the metal barrel of a gun glinted in the light of the kerosene lantern. “You’re full of surprises, ma’am.”

* * *

Tears of frustration sprang in Tilly’s eyes, as much from the pain of falling as in losing the gun. They’d been watching her so closely, she’d thought she’d have a better chance of hiding the weapon outside. She hadn’t counted on the outlaws’ cruelty.

Charlie hooked his arm beneath her shoulder and hauled her upright. She cringed from the steely look in his close-set eyes, and braced for a cuffing.

“Teach him a lesson,” Dakota Red declared.

“Him?” Tilly’s eyes flew open.

The outlaw smirked. “Well, I can’t hit a woman now, can I?”

Charlie wrapped Nolan’s arm behind his back, and Snyder pounded him in the gut with a burly fist. Nolan paled and went to his knees.

The outlaw released her and Tilly rushed to his side.

Charlie grinned. “I knew you’d try something. Got anything else you’d like to tell us?”

He reached for Nolan and Tilly put her body between the outlaw and the prone man. “Nothing. That was the only gun.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t care what you believe.”

She reached for Nolan.

“I’m all right,” he said, his voice strained.

He didn’t appear fine as he staggered upright. His complexion was ashen, and his face was contorted in a grimace of pain.

Nolan declined her proffered hand. “I don’t need your help.”

Her fingers trembled. He might not need her help, but she needed his...desperately. The only other time she’d traveled outside of Omaha had been for Walter’s funeral, and she’d had the guidance of her father. She’d thought Omaha slightly wild when compared to cities she’d read about back east. The gold-rush town of Virginia City had shattered her naive belief. She’d been shocked by the rough conditions and the hordes of dirt-covered men desperate for gold.

Eleanor had never voiced concerns over her living conditions, and Tilly hadn’t pressed her sister. Being surrounded by these hardened men gave her new insight into Eleanor’s challenges. Why hadn’t her sister ever confided in her?

“Girlie!” Dakota Red shouted, a malicious grin slashing his craggy face. “The fellows and I have a powerful hunger. Fetch them vittles.”

A filthy hand tugged on her skirts. She stepped away from Charlie’s grasping hand, only to find herself bumping in to Snyder. The burly man laughed and plucked at her sleeve.

“Got any more guns hiding in there?” he demanded.

She dodged his grasp, her eyes flashing with anger. Charlie halted her exit, splaying his arms and grinning as though this was all some sort of game to him. She whipped around and discovered she was trapped. Panicked, she was near to crying. She set her jaw, refusing to shed a tear. Charlie seemed to feed on her desperation and fear. She wouldn’t break down. Nolan had warned her. If she broke down, they’d have her.

Nolan straightened, one hand braced against the table, the other clutching his ribs. “You know the deal. Leave her be.”

An insane gratitude swept over her. Though her independent spirit rebelled against cowering behind the stagecoach man, survival took hold. At this moment, she had no other choice except clinging to the safety he provided.

Charlie threw back his head and chortled. “Your man has some fight.”

“We need him, Charlie.” Dakota Red’s expression was a frigid as a winter wind. “Stay away from the woman.”

“She ain’t worth it anyway,” his brother spat out. “She’s plain as a fence post and she’s got hips like a buffalo.”

Outraged, she cocked her palm. In a flash Nolan caught her wrist. Blinking rapidly, she lowered her hand. If she struck Charlie, he’d be forced to strike back, hard, or risk losing face in front of the other men.

Lifting her chin, she moved away, refusing to let the outlaws see the devastation Charlie’s words had wrought. She was plain, and she’d always had more curves than the other ladies. Having her faults displayed before the other men smarted. Who was she kidding? Nolan’s opinion was the one that mattered most to her. She snuck a look at him from beneath her eyelashes. His expression was dark and unreadable.

“Git, woman,” Dakota Red ordered once more. “She don’t need to be pretty to make supper.”

The outlaws grumbled at giving up their game, but when Tilly hastily set the beans and bacon on the table next to the bread, they shrugged and relented. She returned to the kitchen and scooted nearer to Nolan.

“Are you all right?” she asked in a hushed tone. “How are your ribs?”

“Good,” he replied, his voice strained. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Woman,” Charlie hollered. “Fetch me more water.”

Tilly ground her teeth and turned away from Nolan. He caught her hand, his gaze fierce.

“We have to see this through,” he whispered. “Do you understand? Don’t let them get to you, or they’ll kill us all. They’ll try and get under our skin to keep us off balance.”

Her face burned. He knew. He knew she was humiliated. At least he hadn’t tried to appease her with lies, and for that she was grateful.

She’d rather have his anger than his pity. “I understand.”

“Charlie has to look tough for the other men. The best way to make himself look big is to belittle someone smaller than him. We’re caught in the middle, that’s all.”

“I said that I understand, and I do,” she said through clenched teeth.

Nolan pressed a kiss against her temple.

Her whole body quivered. She leaned into his touch, then caught Charlie staring at them. The affectionate gesture was obviously for his benefit.

Tilly moved away. Her looks weren’t what gave her worth.

The outlaws ate the simple meal with gusto, nearly emptying the pan of beans before the girls arrived with the berries. With her nieces present, the icy knot of fear settled in Tilly’s chest once more. She directed the girls inside with a nervous grin, admonishing them to wipe their feet. Best to keep everything as normal as possible.

Elizabeth had purple stains covering her mouth and the front of her dress. “Boo-berries.”

She approached the far end of the table and held out a handful of smashed purple. “Want?”

Dakota Red drew his chin toward his chest and angled his head with a shake. “You keep ’em. Let’s go, boys.” He pointed one gnarled finger in Tilly’s direction, his mouth set in a grim line. “Remember your young’uns the next time you want to try something. You got me?”

She suppressed a shiver of fear. His threat was obvious. “I understand.”

Gracious. She was beginning to sound like a parrot, chirping the same phrases over and over again.

“Me and the boys will be keeping a tight watch on the horses,” he continued. “You play along real nice like we asked, and everything is going to be fine. You got that?”

Tilly gave a hesitant nod.

“Glad we came to that agreement. We’ll just search the place again. Even though you’ve given us your word.”

The outlaws tore up the entire station looking for hidden weapons. They emptied all the drawers, moved all the furniture and tapped on all the floorboards. During the search, Tilly kept the girls busy with baking a batch of blackberry muffins.

Victoria glanced up at a particularly loud thump. “What are they doing? What’s taking them so long?”

“They lost something. They’re trying to find it.”

“Mama said if you put your stuff away when you’re done, you don’t lose things.”

“She’s right. But I don’t think they’re interested in your mother’s advice right now.”

Once the outlaws were satisfied, they left to tend their horses. Snyder took a seat outside the front door, and filled his pipe bowl with tobacco.

After the excitement of the afternoon, the rest of the evening passed in relative monotony. Only the faint stench of pipe smoke kept Tilly on edge. As much as she and Nolan struggled to present an air of normalcy, the danger was ever present. With each tick of the clock the tension took its toll, gradually draining her body and soul of energy. Tilly fed the girls and had the three wash up for bedtime.

Caroline stifled a yawn behind her fingers. “What time will the stagecoach come by tomorrow? I’m ready to see Nanny and Poppy.”

“About that.” Tilly tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “Nolan thinks the next stagecoach might be too full. If that’s the case, we’ll have to stay another day or two.”

Caroline shrugged. “All right.”

Tilly breathed a sigh of relief at her easy acceptance of the lie. The next few days were going to be a trial. Tonight she needed rest.

After they’d finished cleaning up the broken looking glass and preparing for bed, the three of them stretched out on the mattress in the main bedroom. Tilly pulled the covers up to their chins, and they each said a quick prayer. Caroline and Victoria prayed for their mother’s safe travels, and Elizabeth prayed for a puppy.

Caroline rolled her eyes. “You’re never getting a puppy. Mama doesn’t like dogs. She says they’re messy and they shed hair. She says dog fur is disgusting.”

Elizabeth set her chin in a stubborn line. “I pray.”

She stuck out her tongue for emphasis.

Caroline swiped at her sister and Tilly lunged between them. “No fighting. Elizabeth can pray for whatever she wants. No hitting each other at bedtime.”

Her nerves were stretched too taut for this sort of the nonsense. Thankfully, the two scooted away from each other. The girls chatted and their animosity quickly dissipated.

Pausing at the door, Tilly blew each of them a kiss. Their eyes drifted shut and she lingered in the doorway. She’d missed them terribly over the past few years. She hardly knew Elizabeth, who’d been an infant when her parents moved to Virginia City.