A Temporary Family. Sherri Shackelford
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“I’ll see that you never are.”
“Thank you.”
At the quiver in her voice, his hand glided down her cheek. He stroked the pulse throbbing at the base of her neck. “He won’t touch you again. Not while I’m here.”
A delicate shudder rippled all the way to her toes. He was staring at her with an intensity that made her breath catch. Any hint of his previous cajoling smile had vanished. She couldn’t help but question what he was thinking. She sensed his inner conflict, and wondered at it. Her hand fluttered near his shoulder. She had an insane longing to caress him and comfort him, but she held herself in check.
One of the horses whinnied, and they jolted apart. The moment broken, Tilly glanced away. The wind caught her hair, whipping it across her face and eyes, obscuring her view of his expression. Had he been as affected by the moment as she had?
She’d consider the oddity of her reaction later, when they weren’t in fear for their lives. This wasn’t about feelings, this was about survival. Their pact was only temporary.
Nolan clasped her fingers and tugged her toward the relay station. His hand dwarfed hers, and the rough calluses on his palm chafed her skin. He caught her gaze and her heart kicked. She looked over her shoulder and caught Charlie following their progress, a speculative gleam in his beady eyes. She whipped back around.
Snyder grunted. “Let’s go.”
As far as the outlaws knew, she and Nolan were husband and wife. She’d been too stunned by Charlie’s unexpected attack to refute his words, but Nolan had latched on to falsehood. He’d used the lie as a bargain, and he’d saved their lives, and her virtue, in the process. Though she wasn’t adept at dealing with fugitives, she admired his ploy. He’d cleverly bargained his assistance for her safety and the safety of the girls.
Once inside the relay station, Snyder grabbed a heel of bread from the counter and bit off a hunk before wandering into the area containing the dining table. He didn’t appear in any great hurry to start his search.
Nolan led her to the meticulously ordered kitchen. Another tidbit she’d discovered about the stagecoach man in the short time they’d known each other—he was neat. Obsessively so. Her father and Eleanor had shared the same trait. They obsessed over even the tiniest imperfection.
If growing up in a spick-and-span household had taught her anything, the two of them were bound to clash. Tilly had never been praised for her tidiness.
While Eleanor and her father had been obsessively neat, Nolan’s living conditions were austere in the extreme. There were chalked outlines on the wall where the pots and pans had been arranged by size. Eleanor would probably swoon at the sight. An unexpected stab of jealousy focused Tilly’s attention. Eleanor wasn’t here. Eleanor was miles away, and Tilly had better keep her head clear. She’d already cost them with her inattentiveness.
Nolan lit the stove and adjusted the flame. “They’ll expect the woman to prepare the food,” he said. “Follow my lead and try and pretend you know where everything is located.”
She looked heavenward. “You should know that I don’t cook very well.”
Another piece of domesticity she’d never mastered. Women’s work was either frippery, like embroidering handkerchiefs, or tediously repetitious, like cooking and doing laundry. She hadn’t the patience for either.
They’d employed a housekeeper off and on over the years, depending on the state of her father’s law practice. That was another reason her volunteer work had dwindled. Since her father had to pay his current law clerk an actual salary, as opposed to Tilly’s free labor, she’d once again taken over the role of housekeeper.
“I don’t think they’re expecting much in the way of food,” Nolan replied wryly. “When Snyder is distracted, I’ll slip into the bedroom and retrieve my gun.”
“If he catches you retrieving a gun,” Tilly whispered harshly, “he’s liable to kill you.”
A crash sounded and Elizabeth toddled from the bedroom the girls had claimed.
“Uh-oh,” the toddler exclaimed ominously.
Victoria skidded from the room, Caroline close on her heels.
Caroline pointed. “It was her fault!”
“Was not.” Victoria’s lower lip protruded in an exaggerated pout. “She pushed me.”
Tilly heaved a sigh. “What’s broken?”
“Your looking glass.”
Tilly scrubbed a hand down her face. “Never mind.”
Of all the things that had gone wrong this day, a shattered looking glass was the least of her worries.
“Why don’t you three wash up for supper?” she directed. “Stay out of the bedroom for now. I’ll clean up the glass when I’ve finished with dinner.”
She paused on an expectant breath, waiting for someone to protest. When Caroline merely shrugged, Tilly exhaled loudly. She silently praised the innocent acceptance of children. She and Nolan were treading through a minefield with this charade. Who knew what pitfalls they were bound to stumble over in the next few days? Her nieces hadn’t questioned the fact that she was assisting Nolan with dinner, though he’d prepared the meals exclusively since their arrival.
She slanted a glance at Snyder, who’d been distracted by several burrs adhered to his canvas-clad calves. The men’s escape must have led through tall brush. He twisted around, his attention focused on the stubborn spikes. Tilly edged toward the bedroom Nolan occupied. The outlaw grunted and straightened, abandoning the effort.
Panic tightened painfully in her chest. Her three nieces crowded around the wash bucket, laughing and splashing each other, their argument forgotten as quickly as it had flared. Pain throbbed behind her eyes. They had no idea of the danger, and she was determined to keep it that way.
Nolan’s gaze darted toward the bedroom door at the opposite end of the relay station.
“You can’t,” she implored quietly. “It’s too dangerous.”
“We don’t have any other choice. Dakota Red has us trapped. He’s right, we won’t get very far without the horses.”
“Then we’ll help them. Once they have the gold, they’ll leave us be.”
Pity shimmered in his hazel eyes. “Sure.”
Her heart sank. “They’re going to kill us either way, aren’t they?”
“Let’s just get through tonight, we’ll worry about the rest later.”
He was backtracking on his words to keep her fears at bay, but she’d seen the truth in his expression. Once the outlaws had the money, their lives were forfeit. She glanced at the two long braids hanging down Caroline’s back. For the first time in her life she was entirely free of Eleanor’s authority and her father’s disapproval, and all she wanted was to crawl back home. She’d been angry with her sister for treating her