in her lap. “Your mother is only a week or so behind us. Of course you’ll visit me before I leave for New York. Your mother would never miss the opportunity to critique my efforts and find me wanting.”
“What does critique mean?”
Nolan glanced between the two.
Miss Hargreaves blanched. “Never mind.”
A bugle call sounded.
Instantly alert, his stomach muscles knotted.
Miss Hargreaves reached for his arm. “What’s that?”
“The cavalry,” Nolan said, stepping out of her reach.
“Is that good or bad?”
The arrival of his unexpected guests had distracted Nolan from his earlier unease. Had the cavalry been scouting him earlier? Captain Ronald, the leader of the local fort, had some odd notions. Nolan forced the tension from his shoulders and turned away from the four pairs of eyes staring expectantly at him.
“Probably nothing,” he said. “Everyone stay inside until I know whether there’s trouble or not.”
This had better be a routine check, because as long as Miss Hargreaves and her nieces remained at the relay station, the girls were his responsibility.
And if there was one thing the war hadn’t stolen from him, he took his responsibilities seriously.
* * *
After ten minutes, Tilly stood and tossed her napkin on the table. If only her brother-in-law hadn’t gone and died. Walter’s timing had never been good. Eleanor had married her father’s law clerk, a handsome fellow who might have made a good husband if it weren’t for the gold rush. Though her sister had wanted to remain living near Tilly and their father, as soon as the war ended, Walter had dragged Eleanor to the wilds of Montana in search of instant riches. They’d been gone nearly two years when he was killed in a mining accident.
Last month, Eleanor had written to say she was returning home to Omaha to live with Walter’s parents. Staying with Eleanor and Tilly’s widowed father was out of the question. Their father had never been much for disruption even before their mother’s death.
Eleanor had demanded Tilly’s assistance with their travels. Though frustrated by the delay in her own plans, Tilly had dutifully made the trip. Except nothing had gone as Tilly had expected.
Claiming she couldn’t finish tying up the loose ends of Walter’s passing with the children underfoot, Eleanor had sent Tilly and the girls ahead of her. Alone.
A fierce quarrel, conducted in hushed tones in deference to the girls, had ensued. In her usual high-handed manner, Eleanor had instructed Tilly to care for the girls better than Tilly had cared for her clothing and belongings as a child. The argument was old and recycled, and Tilly invariably lost. Eleanor was five years older and had an excellent memory. She’d dredged up every item of hers that Tilly had lost or broken over the years. When they’d reached the inevitable point in the argument when Eleanor recalled a borrowed dress Tilly had ruined with spilled punch, Tilly had thrown up her hands and relented.
Though not without a few muttered annoyances.
After all, if Eleanor thought so little of Tilly’s abilities, why entrust her with the girls? Eleanor had responded by pointing out that Tilly merely had to board the stagecoach in Virginia City, and disembark in Omaha.
The unspoken words had been cutting and obvious—even Tilly couldn’t botch such a simple task.
“I’m going to check on Mr. West,” Tilly said. “You three stay here.”
Elizabeth grinned. “I three.”
The child was inordinately pleased with her recent birthday.
“You should be very proud. It’s a very advanced age.”
Tilly stepped outside and glanced at the sky. A flotilla of angry clouds had formed along the horizon. Perfect. More rain. For the past week, there’d been nothing but rain, rain and more rain. The stagecoach had nearly gotten stuck more than once, and floating across the Niobrara River had been precarious against the swift tide.
Tilly paused midstride. A half a dozen cavalry officers on horseback had mustered in the clearing between the relay station and Main Street. Their uniforms might have been crisp and blue at one point, but the men were covered in a fine coat of trail dust. The gold braiding on their hats was frayed, and their brass buttons tarnished from wear.
“You didn’t tell us you had guests,” a voice drawled. “Be careful, West, or you’ll lose your reputation as a recluse.”
The man speaking was clearly the leader of the bunch. He leaned slightly forward, letting the reins of his horse droop. The officer was handsome, with a straight nose and a strong jaw highlighted by his bushy muttonchops.
“Didn’t have a choice,” Nolan said.
The officer smoothed one hand down the front of his coat. “Introduce me.”
Her gaze slid toward Mr. West. He stood with his feet braced apart and his arms crossed over his chest. Of the two men, she much preferred the clean-shaven stagecoach employee. He was too rugged to be strictly handsome. His jaw was too strong, his nose too aquiline and his mouth too hard for what passed for true masculine beauty. His hair might have been blond as a child, but had darkened to a tawny brown with age. Yet there was something compelling about him, a mystery in the depths of those hazel eyes. If she had more time here, she’d relish the challenge of solving the puzzle of his clipped answers and taciturn silence.
Except she wasn’t sticking around any longer than absolutely necessary, especially now that Eleanor was returning. Being under Eleanor’s thumb these past few days had only reinforced Tilly’s decision. She was heartily sick of always being judged and found lacking.
Following the end of the war, when her father’s law clerks had returned, the work she’d done in their absence had been gradually removed from her oversight. She was bored and restless.
The cavalry officer grinned at her, and touched the brim of his hat. “Captain Ronald, miss. At your disposal.”
Tilly plastered a cheerful look on her face. His attention was less flattering than perfunctory. If Eleanor was here, she knew from experience that he’d hardly spare her a glance.
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’m Miss Hargreaves.”
“Where’s Perry?” Nolan demanded.
At the growl in his voice, Tilly took an unconscious step back. Clearly there was animosity simmering between the two men.
“Perry is patrolling another area,” Captain Ronald said. “You’ll have to deal with me, much as it pains you.” He turned his attention toward Tilly. “Don’t you worry about the danger, ma’am. We’ve got extra patrols between here and Omaha. You’ll be as safe as a baby in a cradle.”
“Danger?” Shock rippled through Tilly. “What danger?”
“As I said, don’t you worry your pretty little head, ma’am.” The captain touched the yellow handkerchief
