A Family for the Holidays (12 page)

The gentleman approached the counter and asked for a room. He lacked the alert bearing of someone on the lookout for an escaped fugitive, and Jake breathed a sigh of relief. The man wasn't part of a posse. Come to think of it, Steele City had been awfully quiet. He'd expected something more by now. Someone should have raised the alarm. Why wasn't the sheriff canvassing the town?

“He loved Benjamin.” Lily yawned behind one gloved hand. “Because Benjamin was adventurous.”

“I'm sure he loved you, too.”

“Yes. But have you ever had the feeling you're just a poor substitute for the people they really want?”

Jake paused on the landing. Even after his mother's death, he'd always felt as though he belonged. When his father had sunk into melancholy, his family had circled around him, smothering him and his siblings with love.

He turned her face toward the light. “Who made you feel as though you were a poor substitute?”

“No one.” She blinked at him, as though realizing she'd revealed too much. “Never mind. I'm tired. It's been an extremely long week. I rarely travel. I'd forgotten how exhausting it can be.”

“You've done more than simply travel. You've been under a tremendous amount of strain. Sam and Peter are fortunate you accepted this adventure.” He ran his thumb over the delicate lace covering her radiant hair. “Someone else might have left them in Frozen Oaks.”

“People should never leave without saying goodbye.”

“Sometimes people don't have a choice.”

“I suppose.”

His mother had been gone for more than a decade, but the ache of her loss remained. There were certain days he felt the sorrow more acutely. Holidays and birthdays were difficult. Sometimes entire days passed when he didn't think of her, and the guilt weighed on him.

Lily cupped his cheek, her eyes glazed. He felt the warmth of her hand all the way to his toes.

“What about you?” she asked. “Does your family still live in Paris, Texas? Do you have brothers and sisters? Where does a gunfighter spend Christmas?”

“I have brothers and sisters. My father is still alive, but my mother died.”

The smile faded from her expressive face. “I'm sorry. You must think me very insensitive.”

“I think you're exhausted.”

She fumbled with the door, nearly delirious with exhaustion, and he gently took the key from her fingers. “Let me help.”

Sam and Peter had finished preparing for bed, and had crawled beneath the covers. Lily tucked the sheet beneath their chins and smoothed the hair from their foreheads.

“What happened to your mother?” she asked.

“She was killed in a bank robbery.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“I was Sam's age at the time. I was pouting that day, making all her tasks more difficult. I wanted to be home playing marbles with my brothers. I didn't want to be in town carrying her sacks from store to store. I was peevish and bored. I didn't even pay attention when the outlaws first entered the bank.” He paused, replaying the scene in his head, recalling each vivid detail. He pictured the black-and-white tile floor, the stamped horseshoe on the outlaw's belt buckle. “Everyone else was ducking behind furniture, or scattering away. I just stood there. I looked up and saw the gun, and I couldn't move. My mother reached for me. The movement caught the attention of one of the bank robbers. He turned and the gun went off.”

“That must have been horrible for you.”

“She died instantly. I don't think she even knew what happened.”

“I don't understand you,” she said. “Why take up gun fighting? After seeing something that horrible. I can't imagine.”

He backed toward the door. “My path is a long story for another time.”

“I admit I'm curious about the entire tale.”

He turned to go, and caught the sound of her footsteps behind him.

“Wait,” she called.

“Yes?”

“I'll never hear your story, will I?” She collapsed against the doorjamb, her hands braced behind her. “You're leaving us, aren't you?”

Jake rested his hand above her head and leaned forward. He caught the faint hint of lilacs once more. Lilies and lilacs—she'd ruined his two favorite flowers. He'd always think of her. Of the way her indigo velvet dress brought out the caramel highlights in her hair and sent her blue eyes shimmering.

“I have to leave,” he said. “The delay has made any escape for me too risky. I don't trust the law around here. If I stay with the three of you, I put you in danger. Remember, tomorrow, if anything goes wrong, you and the children escaped from me. You were trying to put as much distance between us as you could because you feared for your lives.”

She reached out a hand. “Thank you. For everything. For getting us this far.”

“You're welcome, Lily.” He considered his next words carefully. “Sam and Peter are blessed to have you. You were never a poor substitute.”

“Thank you.”

His brow creased. “What are you thinking, when you look at me that way?”

“I'm thinking that you look like a handsome suitor come to call.”

“Then I should kiss you good-night.”

She stroked his face, running her hand along the line of his jaw. No mortal man could resist the temptation. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers in a featherlight touch. She rose up on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck. Fighting himself, he reluctantly pulled away.

She touched her lips. “Goodbye, Jake. I never even knew your last name.”

He brushed his hand along her silken hair one last time. “Good night, Lily Winter. You and the children are going to be just fine.”

Chapter Eleven

L
ily woke the next morning feeling no more refreshed than if she hadn't slept a wink. After collapsing on the bed, she'd tossed and turned. All night long she'd been tensed for a pounding on the door.

If the sheriff hadn't begun searching already, perhaps he'd simply given up. Her body ached from their grueling ride, and the scratch on her leg throbbed. She'd known, of course, that Jake would leave. For his own safety, and for theirs. Still, his desertion struck her as a betrayal.

The feel of his lips on hers lingered. Sensible Lily Winter had kissed an outlaw, and she didn't regret her actions.

Peeling back the layer of bandaging on her leg, she winced. With the children sleeping soundly, she dipped a towel in the ewer of water on the nightstand and cleaned the wound again. Once they were in St. Joseph, she'd visit the pharmacy for a salve. By the end of the evening, they'd be well away from Vic and his influence.

Having replaced the bandage, she shook Sam and Peter awake with a renewed sense of purpose. No matter what happened, she wasn't leaving these two. Even if everyone in the world deserted them, they'd have each other.

Thirty minutes later they were all dressed and their bags packed. Lily checked the clock on the mantel. They had plenty of time for breakfast before their train departed.

She smoothed the material over her stomach and took a deep breath. Jake hadn't said goodbye the previous evening. He'd said good-night instead. For some reason the oversight annoyed her to no end. People ought to say goodbye when they were leaving.

She swung open the door and discovered Jake standing on the threshold, his hand raised in midknock.

Her heart jerked against her ribs. Before she could stop herself, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him around the middle. His arms came around her. She let herself sink into his embrace for a moment before pulling away.

He offered her one of his rare half grins. “I hope you don't regret this.”

“Not at all. Never.” She rushed ahead, her voice breathless. “You didn't leave us. I can't believe you didn't leave us.”

“I figured I better stick with you three until my beard grows back.” He rubbed the backs of his fingers against the grain of the stubble on his chin. “I'll never get work as a hired gun looking like this.”

“You're quite handsome. I like you far better this way.”

If she didn't know better, she'd think there was a hint of a blush at her complement.

Twenty minutes later they handed their tickets to the conductor and boarded the train. The station was crowded with people bustling to and fro. Steamer trunks and bags made navigating the depot difficult, but all the commotion provided much-needed cover.

Taller than Lily, Jake scanned the crowd and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing. I don't see anyone searching the passengers.”

Relief surged through her. “Then we've made it.”

“I won't feel relief until you're back home in Missouri.”

They boarded the train and Lily and Sam took a seat across from Jake and Peter. The passenger car was new, the polished dark wood trim gleaming. The bench seats were covered in a deep brown fabric and grouped facing each other. She fisted her hands in her lap and listened for the steady
chug
,
chug
,
chug
as the engineer shoveled more coal into the steam engine. The whistle blew and the train seemed to jerk forward.

Her relief was short-lived. A second later the engines seemed to heave, then slow. The passengers sitting around them raised their heads and looked around.

“What's wrong?” a voice called. “Why are we stopping?”

An elderly porter appeared at the end of the aisle, holding his hands in a placating gesture. “Don't worry, folks. We've got a little situation. The sheriff is on the lookout for some folks, and he's going to take a walk up and down the aisles.”

Several gasps accompanied his words.

The porter chuckled. “As long as you haven't broken the law, this will only be a short delay.”

There were titters following his words.

Stars appeared at the edges of Lily's vision. She felt the same as when she'd faced Jake on the boardwalk that first day. As though there wasn't enough oxygen and she might collapse at any moment.

Jake half stood but she grasped his knee, preventing him from rising.

“Stop,” she said. “Don't give up yet.”

“We're stuck.” He sat back down and shook his head. “It's too late, he's coming this way.”

“Who?”

“The Steele City sheriff.”

Her ears buzzed and her breakfast roiled in her stomach. “Oh, no.”

Jake snatched a newspaper someone had abandoned on the seat across from them. “Don't make a fuss when he captures me. I don't want anyone hurt.”

In deference to their situation, Lily had worn a bonnet that day. The hat didn't match the rest of her outfit, but her coat was bland enough she doubted anyone would notice. Jake was almost completely unrecognizable with his clean-shaven face, shorn hair and new suit.

With a sudden jolt she acknowledged the real problem. Her own appearance hadn't altered enough. She'd been focusing on the other three, and hadn't noted the obvious flaw in her plan. Of the four of them, she was the most recognizable.

She scrambled for a solution. As long as the Steele City sheriff didn't get a good look at her, she might escape his notice. She listened for the footfalls and when the sheriff neared, she leaned down and pretended to tie the laces on Sam's half boots.

Jake tipped his hat low over his eyes and made a point of concentrating on the newspaper he held.

Her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest. The footsteps paused beside them.

Sam sighed. “I can tie my own shoes.”

The footsteps continued past them.

Lily peered up. Jake folded a corner of the newspaper and met her gaze. He gave a slight shake of his head. She concentrated on tying another knot. They'd have to cut the laces off poor Sam's boot at this rate. For the next ten minutes they sat in tense silence.

Outside their window, the porter called the last warning for boarding passengers. The engines began to hum once more and the train whistle blew. She clapped her hand over the back of her mouth, quelling a hysterical giggle.

“I can't believe that worked.”

“You're a genius, Lily Winter.” A smile stretched across Jake's handsome face. “I wouldn't have believed the story if you told me twice.”

“He just walked right by us.”

“You were right. Once he saw Sam, he barely spared us a glance. No one is looking for a couple with a boy and girl. We were invisible.”

Sam pressed her back against the seat. “I helped, didn't I?”

“You were the most important part of the plan,” Lily replied.

“What about me?” Peter crossed his arms over his chest and harrumphed. “I did my part, too.”

“Yes. You were very stoic and brave.” Lily soothed his bruised feelings. “You both did very well.”

The giggle in the back of her throat erupted into a laugh and she pressed her knuckles against her lips.

“I'm sorry,” she apologized, “I don't know why I find his ineptness so hysterically funny all of a sudden.”

“You're letting go of the tension.” Jake folded the newspaper. You've been under too much stress for too long.”

A hand landed on her shoulder and she nearly leapt out of her skin.

“I'm afraid you'll have to stand up, miss,” a masculine voice spoke.

* * *

The preacher sitting across from Jake was flanked by Sam and Peter. With light brown eyes, he was one of those nondescript middle-aged men who tended to fade into a crowd. He'd insisted on letting the couple sit together. Especially when it became apparent that Lily wasn't feeling well.

He and Lily had almost given themselves away when the preacher boarded the train late. Poor Lily had nearly fainted when he'd touched her shoulder. She wasn't looking much better now.

Her complexion had turned an unnatural shade of green. Despite the chill air, a fine sheen of sweat had formed on her brow. Out of habit on the trail, he'd packed a cantina of water. He unscrewed the lid and wetted his handkerchief, then pressed the chilled material against her forehead. She sighed and leaned into his hand. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pressed her against his side.

“How much longer?” she asked weakly.

“Why don't you close your eyes and rest? Try and sleep.”

“I don't know how anyone could sleep through this awful swaying.”

“This train is sprung like a feather bed compared to my last journey,” the preacher declared. “And at least we aren't pressed together like sardines. You can't imagine the smell in the summertime.”

Lily snatched his handkerchief and pressed the material against her mouth.

If the preacher noticed her discomfort, the observation didn't stop him from forging ahead. “You know, my mother used to love peppermint. Said it settled the stomach.”

He peeled back the lapel of his black suit coat and revealed a package of peppermint sticks.

“Thank you, but I think I'll pass,” Lily replied.

Jake chafed her upper arm. “Not much longer, sweetheart. Try and rest. The time will go faster.”

The term of endearment came easily. Obviously too exhausted and queasy to argue, she collapsed against his side. They were well chaperoned between the preacher and the children, but he couldn't shake the natural comfort of the moment. They might have been a real family. She'd removed her bonnet and he ran his fingers over her silky hair in a soothing motion.

She curled into him, her hand resting on the buttons of his new suit jacket.

He touched the back of his hand to her cheek and alarm bells rang in his head. “You're more than sick because of the motion. You're feverish.”

She groaned and shook her head. “I'm fine.”

“You're not fine.”

The preacher departed at the next town, and Lily's condition worsened. When the server-carriers brought meals for purchase to the train window, Sam and Peter eagerly wolfed down their fried chicken and pickled okra. Lily declined any food.

Growing more concerned, Jake set her away from him and studied her glazed eyes. “You're sick. You need to see a doctor.”

“It was the turkey.”

“You haven't eaten since this morning. You're not making any sense.”

She struggled away from him and lifted her skirts, revealing her calf. Blood oozed through a makeshift bandage.

His chest seized. “When did that happen?”

“When I fell off my horse.”

“You said you weren't hurt in the fall. You lied.”

“I didn't lie. This didn't happen when I fell. That blasted turkey leapt over me in his escape.”

“A small point. Why didn't you say something sooner? Why didn't you purchase medical supplies in Steele City?”

“Stop shouting at me.” She rubbed her temples. “My head already hurts.”

“I'm not shouting.” He lowered his voice. “I'm not shouting, I'm merely concerned.”

Jake leaned forward for a better look and she halted him with a hand on his shoulder. “I'm fine.”

“You're not fine. We're getting off at the next stop.”

Her face flashed in stubborn mutiny, but he was done with letting Lily have her way.

Sam and Peter elbowed closer.

Peter grimaced. “That doesn't look so good, Miss Lily. Maybe you'll get a big scar. My dad burned his leg once, and he had the most amazing scar.”

“Ladies don't like scars,” Sam said. “She doesn't want her leg ruined.”

“What would you know about being a lady?”

She socked him in the gut. “I know plenty.”

“Enough,” Jake snapped. “Both of you.”

At the inherent authority in his voice, they both clammed up.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbled.

“Me, too,” Peter added. “That scratch looks really bad, Miss Lily. I imagine your leg hurts something fierce.”

“I'll be fine,” she replied weakly. “You two needn't worry about me.”

The length between stops drew out interminably. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Sam and Peter lapsed into silence. Lily dozed fitfully at his side. He urged her to drink water and bathed her forehead. He was fully prepared to override any objections she might make, but by the time they reached the next depot, a town called Seneca, Lily was in no shape to argue.

Sam and Peter took their bags and he wrapped his arm around Lily's waist. Thankfully the nearest hotel was only a few blocks from the tracks. He hoisted her into his arms and she protested weakly.

“I'm too heavy.”

“Hey, there, I won't have you questioning my brawny strength.”

His teasing brought a gleam of amusement to her weary eyes. “I'd never dare.”

The elderly clerk glanced up from his ledger when they entered the lobby. The hotel was small, probably no more than four or five rooms. Rag rugs were scattered over the wood floors. The lobby was neat and tidy and smelled of a fresh scrubbing. Thankfully, they didn't need anything fancy, just a place for Lily to rest.

“I need a room,” Jake called. “And fetch the doctor.”

Recognizing the resolve in Jake's voice, the clerk sprang into action. With his round face and layered wrinkles, he reminded Jake of a bulldog he'd owned as a child. The man grasped a key from the row of boxes behind him.

“Follow me,” the clerk said.

Sam and Peter trailed close behind him.

Even with his extra burden, Jake took the stairs two at a time. The porter unlocked the door and he rested her on the embroidered counterpane.

“I should have told you about my leg sooner,” she said weakly. “But I thought the wound was healing.”