had changed since Walter’s passing. The facade of perfection had slipped, and her sister’s fragility had unleashed a desperate terror in Tilly. It was a truth she’d been unwilling to face. If Eleanor wasn’t the strong one anymore, where did that leave Tilly? As much as she chafed against her role in the family, at least she understood her place.
Victoria giggled and flicked water at her younger sisters. The juxtaposition of their innocence against the outlaw prowling the house was too much to bear.
Tilly’s chest pounded like a kettledrum. “Where are those blackberry bushes, Mr. West? Are they close?”
“Out the back door, and straight ahead.” He pitched his voice low. “You can call me Nolan when we’re around the outlaws.”
Her cheeks heated. “Of course. I keep forgetting.”
She squinted through the window. The three girls would be away from the house, but still within sight. Nolan was correct, they needed distance between her nieces and the outlaws at all times.
She grasped a bowl from the counter and approached Caroline. “Gather as many berries as you can. Take as long as you need.”
Once again Caroline shot her a speculative glance, but didn’t question the orders. Tilly made a note to watch herself around the middle child. All of the girls were intelligent, but Caroline was the most like Eleanor, and Eleanor had always known when Tilly was up to something.
Once the girls were gone, Tilly and Nolan began the meal. Snyder skulked about the station, poking his nose in all the cupboards and stomping on the floorboards. He emerged from the first bedroom empty-handed, and she and Nolan exchanged an uneasy glance. The barren rooms gave little clue as to who occupied them.
Nolan started for the door, but Snyder blocked his path.
“You stay where I can see you,” the outlaw ordered.
Nolan’s concentration remained focused, and Tilly sensed he was weighing his options, deciding if he could challenge the man alone. She studied the scattergun clutched in Snyder’s hands, then stared at her fingers. Nolan was the best hope for the girls. He was the only one who could truly protect them. He was the one the outlaws needed in order for their plan to succeed. Since she couldn’t let him put himself in harm’s way, she’d have to do this herself.
She wiped her hands on her skirts and straightened. “I can’t work with my hair unbound like this.”
She brushed past Snyder and marched toward the last bedroom. Nolan’s room. The room the outlaw hadn’t yet searched.
Snyder grasped her upper arm in a viselike grip. “I like your hair just fine the way it is.”
Tilly shot him a quelling glance. “I prefer my hair bound.”
The painful hold on her arm eased. Snyder let her go and swiped at his mouth with his sleeve.
“Be quick about it, girlie. I’m hungry.”
“I’ll be quick as gunfire,” she said over her shoulder.
If she wanted to live her life as a brave woman who wanted to live a purposeful life, then she’d better start acting like one.
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
