always been drawn to kindness. No harm in that. Maybe someday, after this was all over... She shook her head. No. That was a foolish thought.
Love always came with expectations, and if one fought against those expectations, life was a misery. Her mother had expected a child would domesticate Emmett, but he’d left all the same. Emmett had expected her unwavering loyalty for his rescue, though he conveniently forgot he’d left her with those awful people in the first place.
While there were things about her years with Emmett that she’d genuinely enjoyed, her ledger of offenses was thick and her bank balance thin. She sensed Mr. McCoy was someone who lived by a rigid code of honor. A man who’d expect the same in others.
She closed her book with a snap, blocking out her pages of dishonorable deeds.
After tucking away her ledger, she studied the chalked destinations once more. Her spotty schooling had left her without much knowledge of geography, and she was at a loss. She’d settled in Wichita only because she’d liked the sound of the name.
“If You’re up there...” she began, lifting her face to the warming sun. “If You’re up there and You have any ideas, I sure could use one now.”
A distinctive wooden toy struck the base of her trunk.
“Ball,” a familiar small voice declared.
Planting her hands on her hips, Tessa leaned forward. “You are a troublemaker, aren’t you?”
Looking inordinately pleased with himself, Owen grinned. “Ga.”
Tessa squinted at the sky. “You and I need to work on our communication.”
* * *
The train whistle blew, startling Alyce, and Shane murmured soothing nonsense. He forced his thoughts away from the lovely Miss Spencer and concentrated on the task at hand. I am doing the right thing. Maybe if he kept repeating those words, they’d feel right, they’d feel true.
Unaware of the changes about to upturn her young life, Alyce fiddled with his collar and kicked her feet. I am doing the right thing.
Having left Owen with the pinch-faced Mrs. Lund, he arranged for the twins’ baggage as well as his own return ticket. Crowds of people surged around them, agitating Alyce and further darkening his mood. This was Abby’s dying wish—she wanted her children raised by her family. Only Abby wasn’t here anymore, and she didn’t see how the children’s smiles had faded beneath her sister’s dour countenance.
When he returned to where Mrs. Lund was standing, Owen was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?” Shane demanded.
Mrs. Lund lifted one shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. “Perhaps if he isn’t showered with attention upon his return, the boy will cease running off.”
Taller than average, Shane quickly spotted Owen pestering Miss Spencer once more. His rush of relief quickly morphed into anger. There was no way Mrs. Lund had seen Owen from this distance. For all she knew, he’d wandered onto the tracks.
Singularly unrepentant, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Proper discipline is what the boy needs, not coddling. I hope these sorts of antics won’t be commonplace with the children.”
Her voice grated on Shane’s nerves. The woman had all the warmth of a root cellar in winter, but she was also the twin’s closest kin.
“They’ve been cooped up,” he replied shortly. “They’re bound to wander.”
He and Abby had been childhood sweethearts. They’d paired up mostly because their ages matched and they were always seated together in the one-room schoolhouse. At seventeen, Abby had pressured him for an engagement. He’d thought them too young and he was already overwhelmed with his own responsibilities. His father had abandoned the family three years before, and Shane had taken over as the man of the house. Despite his best efforts to soften the blow, urging Abby to wait instead, his refusal had incensed her.
They’d gradually lost touch after her parents had died and she’d moved away. Years later, she’d arrived at his ranch, pregnant and alone. Compelled by honor and loyalty, he’d thought he was doing the right thing by marrying her, hoping their past friendship might grow into something deeper. Except she’d never stopped loving the man who’d betrayed her.
Mrs. Lund harrumphed, and her gaze shifted. “Have you made the arrangements with the bank?”
His jaw worked. “I’ll finish up this morning.”
That figured. Abby’s older sister may have lost sight of Owen, but she hadn’t lost sight of the money he’d offered for the twins’ care.
How had such a simple arrangement become this complicated? Ten years older than Abby, her sister had been married and gone by the time he and Abby had started school together. After Abby’s death, their correspondence had been brief, but Mrs. Lund had been well aware of her sister’s wishes and hadn’t balked. He’d put off the inevitable for as long as he could, but the time had finally arrived.
As though sensing his tension, Alyce squeezed her small hands around his neck. He absently rubbed her back in soothing circles.
“Everything will be fine,” he said, though his blood simmered. He turned toward Mrs. Lund and, with an effort born of sheer will, kept his tone calm. “It’s been hard on them, losing Abby. They need patience.”
“Fine talk coming from you,” she snapped. “A man foisting off his children as though they were so much chattel.”
“You know what Abby wanted,” he said quietly. “The ranch is isolated. If anything happened over the winter...”
“Or perhaps my sister regretted her choice of a husband.”
Her words slashed at his conscience. “We can finish this discussion later.”
As though his day couldn’t get any worse, he locked gazes with a pair of sparkling blue eyes. A flush crept up his neck. He didn’t know how much Miss Spencer had heard, but it was probably too much.
“We meet again, Mr. McCoy.” Despite her casual words, Miss Spencer clenched her hands before her stomach, her knuckles white. “I believe this little fellow belongs to you.”
Assuming his most stern expression, Shane switched Alyce to his opposite shoulder and reached down. “Owen, that’s twice today.”
The boy grinned, not at all sorry. Shane raised his eyebrows. Leave it to Owen to find the prettiest girl at the depot. The child was a positive flirt.
Miss Spencer’s gaze darted around the platform. “I believe Owen was chasing his ball and became a little lost.”
The tight coil he kept around his emotions eased a notch. Owen’s champion was smartly dressed in a traveling suit the color of a ripe peach. The cheerful hue brought out the luster in her flaxen hair and the flecks of gold in her sharp blue eyes. Though clearly nervous about something or someone, she exuded an air of confidence and grace.
Her presence felt out of place on the crowded platform. As though she belonged in a private parlor—sipping tea and waiting for her Pullman car. She was
