took her hand and gave it a perfunctory shake before releasing it. “Glad to meet you, Miss Vickers. I’m Riley Walker. And I appreciate you coming to Noah’s rescue the way you did.”
She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Glad to help.” Then she turned to the little girl. “And I assume you are Noah’s sister, Pru?”
The girl, who looked to be no older than ten or eleven, nodded.
Cassie Lynn turned to the children’s uncle. “I understand you folks are new to town. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”
“I’m sure we will.” Mr. Walker touched the brim of his hat, and she thought for a moment he would make his exit. But instead he hesitated a moment and then nodded toward the corral. “Which one of these horses is yours?”
“None, I’m afraid. We’re just good friends.” She rested an arm on the fence. “I understand from Noah you’ve brought your own horse to town with you.”
He nodded. “River goes everywhere I do.” He waved toward the livery end of the corral, where Mr. Humphries was leading what was presumably Mr. Walker’s horse through the gate. “That’s him now.”
She heard the pride in his voice and turned to study the animal more closely. His coat was silvery-gray with a few darker flecks on his flank and a charcoal colored mane and tail. The animal appeared spirited and well cared for.
“He looks to be a fine horse.”
Mr. Walker’s smile had a touch of affection in it. “He is that.” Then he turned serious again. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Vickers, but if you’ll excuse us, I need to get us checked in at the hotel.”
“Of course.” As he moved away, she called out to them. “Mr. Walker?”
He paused and turned back, his expression one of polite inquiry. “Ma’am?”
She felt foolish for her impulsive act. “I just wanted to say if you have questions about any of the local establishments, or need directions of any sort, I’d be glad to help you.”
“That’s very kind of you, but not necessary at the moment.”
They resumed their exit and this time she let them. But she overheard another snippet of their conversation before they moved out of hearing range.
“Are you really going to work here, Uncle Riley?” Noah asked.
His uncle nodded. “I am. But just for a few hours each day.”
Were the Walkers going to settle here then? She certainly hoped so. It would give her a chance to see that sweet little Noah again.
And his uncle.
She watched them until they disappeared around the corner of the livery. Then she dusted the back of her skirt with her hands and turned to the horses. “Well, now, wasn’t that an interesting little encounter? I must say, I found Mr. Walker and his charges to be quite fascinating.” She stroked Scarlett’s muzzle again. Given that Cassie Lynn was looking for a husband, she couldn’t help but think that Mr. Walker would be a not unpleasant choice.
Ridiculous, of course, since she didn’t really know him. Then again, she didn’t know any of the local gents very well, either. It certainly couldn’t hurt to put the newcomer on her list while she tried to learn more about him. For instance, learning if he was even planning to settle down in Turnabout or was just passing through.
She grinned at her own silliness. Then the reminder of just why she was making her husband candidate list came flooding back, and she no longer had any desire to smile.
It was time to stop her foolish daydreaming and get down to business. Cassie Lynn picked up her shopping basket and walked away from the corral.
Finding a husband wouldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t altogether impossible.
Please, God, if this plan be in Your will, prepare the man You have in mind for me so that he is open to my proposal.
Feeling somewhat better now that she had a direction, Cassie Lynn straightened and moved forward with a lighter step.
But there was one big problem with her plan. She didn’t know the men in town well enough to evaluate them against her requirements. Which meant she needed an advisor, someone who could help her make those comparisons and who would perhaps think of candidates she might not be aware of. There were only a few people she felt comfortable turning to for that kind of assistance.
There was Janell Chandler, the former schoolteacher who had eventually won the hand of Hank Chandler.
Then there was Daisy Fulton, the restaurant owner Cassie Lynn had worked for for six months.
And of course there was her current employer, Mrs. Flanagan. Daisy and Janell were closer to her own age, and both had moved to Turnabout from elsewhere, so they would know something of her situation. On the other hand, Mrs. Flanagan had grown up here and knew just about everything there was to know about her fellow townsfolk.
But did she really want her employer involved in her dilemma that way?
Better to turn her thoughts to what she would prepare for Mrs. Flanagan’s evening meal and let the other matter simmer a bit.
A simple vegetable soup, perhaps, or a potpie could be prepared with very little thought and would leave her mind free to ponder her situation...
What would Mr. Walker and his two charges be doing for supper tonight? Maybe she could convince Mrs. Flanagan to invite the Walker family to dine with them one night soon. Having company to ease the monotony of the widow’s days would be good for her, whether she would be willing to admit it or not.
And it would, after all, be the neighborly thing to do.
* * *
Riley hurried Pru and Noah along. There were several things he still had to do this afternoon, and the sooner he settled the children at the hotel the better.
The most pressing matter was to get a telegraph off to Mr. Claypool. He always made a point of letting the Pinkerton detective know where to reach him when he arrived in a new town.
Then he wanted to take River for a run. The horse had been cooped up in that train car for much too long and would be ready for some exercise. And truth to tell, Riley was, too. He missed being on horseback—there hadn’t been nearly enough opportunity for him to turn loose and ride lately.
His mind drifted back to Miss Vickers. She was an interesting lady. At first glance he’d thought her a tomboyish adolescent. The way she’d stood so casually at the corral fence, elbows on the top rail, laughing with Noah—no wonder he’d gotten the wrong idea. And her slight build had only reinforced that impression.
Rushing to Noah’s aid with such disregard for her own well-being or dignity as she had, and then taking her fall with a touch of humor rather than dismay—there weren’t many grown ladies who would have done such a thing.
It was only when he’d stooped down to check on her that he’d realized his mistake. That engagingly rueful smile had most definitely belonged to a woman, not a child.
It was when
