and struggling to put thoughts of the stranger aside, Kinsey glanced out the window at the boys playing in the neighbor’s yard. She spotted Sam quickly, running and waving a stick alongside the Gleason boys. Dora Gleason had four sons; one more child in her yard didn’t matter one way or the other, she’d said. Sam was close to the same age as the Gleasons and they all got along well.
“I saw Isaac in town,” Kinsey said softly.
Lily’s spine stiffened. “Sheriff Vaughn, you mean?”
“I mean your husband.”
Lily jammed the biscuit cutter into the dough and, after a few minutes asked, “Did he say…anything?”
“He said—”
“No. Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“Lily, you know I’ve stayed out of the business between the two of you but—”
“Please, Kinsey….” Lily closed her eyes and turned her head away.
Kinsey wiped her hands on her apron and touched her friend’s arm. “I understand.”
Lily turned to her again, tears welling in her eyes.
“It’s hard enough dealing with…what happened…”
“I know.”
“Oh, just look at me carrying on so.” Lily pulled out of her grasp and swiped at her tears with the hem of her apron. “And in front of you, of all people. I’m so sorry, Kinsey. How thoughtless of me. Here you are a widow with a little boy to raise all by yourself. You’ve lost your husband and you probably resent the way I’m treating mine.”
“It’s all right,” Kinsey said, because, really, it was.
She hadn’t taken sides in the Vaughns’ marital problems but she understood the situation well enough to know there was no easy answer.
“Do you miss your husband terribly?” Lily asked.
“Well…” Kinsey lowered her lashes and drew in a breath, trying to appear brave, as she always did when the matter of her dear departed came up.
“It’s hard for you to talk about him.” Lily shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Kinsey pushed her chin up. “It’s…difficult.”
“Why don’t you go on over to the White Dove?” Lily suggested, seemingly anxious to get off the subject of husbands, both living and dead. “Saturday is their busiest night and if you go over now, you can get a jump on those dishes and get home early, take your time getting ready for services tomorrow.”
On Sundays the boardinghouse didn’t provide meals for its residents, other than a cold breakfast. It was the only day Kinsey, Lily and Nell could call their own.
“But I’m not finished here,” Kinsey said, waving toward the boiling and sizzling pots and pans on the cookstove.
“I can do it,” Lily insisted. “You run on. And don’t worry about Sam. I’ll make sure he comes back from the Gleasons before dark.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Kinsey said, feeling a little guilty.
“Of course I’m sure,” Lily said.
Kinsey exchanged her apron for her wrap, bonnet and handbag and went out the back door. Her gaze settled on Sam still playing with the other boys, and immediately all troubling thoughts left her. She called to him and he rushed over, still clutching the stick in his hand.
“Having fun, honey?” she asked, kneeling in front of him.
“Yeah, Mama,” he said breathlessly, bouncing on his toes and waving the stick. “I shot ’em all.”
She smiled and smoothed back his damp bangs. “Mama’s going to the White Dove now. Miss Lily will come get you in a little while. You stay right here with the Gleason boys. Understand?”
“Okay, Mama,” he said, glancing back at the boys still running through the yard.
“Give Mama a hug.”
She opened her arms and Sam launched himself against her, his smooth cheek resting on hers, both arms curled around her neck. Kinsey held him to her, soaking up the treasured moment.
Then he pulled away and she managed to get a quick kiss on his cheek before he dashed back into the fray, shooting the Gleason boys with his pretend gun.
Kinsey rose slowly, her heart aching a little. Until Sam came along, she hadn’t imagined the depth of love she could feel for another human being.
He’d changed everything. Given her purpose, given her a passion for life she thought she’d lost years ago. Her love for the child had awakened a fierceness that she’d not known she had. Maybe no woman knew she possessed it until she had a child of her own. A child she’d lay down her life for.
A child she’d kill for.
Tears welled in Kinsey’s eyes, and the intensity of her feelings hardened her stomach into a tight knot. She’d keep Sam safe.
No matter what.
* * *
Jared settled into a chair beside the front window of the White Dove Café and tossed his hat into the empty seat beside him. The holstered pistol pulled against his thigh, annoying him. He wasn’t used to wearing the thing. He’d even forgotten it in his hotel room just now and was halfway down to the lobby when he remembered it and had to go back for it.
The restaurant was still busy, even though it was late, and the delicious aroma of the food made Jared’s mouth water. A good hot meal was just what he needed right now.
After getting off the stage earlier today, he’d gotten a room and a bath at the Crystal Springs Hotel, then lain down, intending to grab a few minutes of rest only to wake up several hours later. Staring into the dimly lit hotel room, it had taken him a while to remember where he was. He sprang out of bed and got dressed, grateful for the solid floor beneath his feet instead of the buck and sway of trains and the stagecoach.
The serving girl, a young woman with pale blond hair, approached the table carrying a coffee pot.
“Hi. I’m Dixie. Menu’s up on the wall,” she said, waving toward the chalkboard by the front door. She leaned down to fill his cup, resting her hand on the back of his chair. “See anything you—like?”
All he could see were her bosoms about six inches from his face, reminding him of what a long uneventful journey the trip from New York had been.
“Just, ah, just bring me whatever’s good,” he said.
Dixie’s smile turned sultry. “Oh, it’s all good.”
She winked, then sauntered across the restaurant and through the swinging door to the kitchen.
Jared doused his coffee with sugar and sipped as he looked out the window,
