A Family for the Holidays (18 page)

“Me, too.”

Together they returned inside, and Sam and Peter dashed up the stairs to pick out their bedrooms.

Lily tugged open a closet door. “At least we have most of the furnishings. There are linens and towels in here. Anna must have a high standard of cleanliness. Despite her warning, everything is pristine.”

“We couldn't ask for a better solution.”

“Are you certain you want to invest that much money? I can't... I mean, I have a little.”

He took her hands. “This is my idea, and my expense.”

His gaze dropped to her lips. Only moments before, he'd kissed her. Longing flared in his chest. They were close enough a sigh could close the distance. Did that kiss weigh as heavily on her mind as it did on his? He didn't want to feel anything for her; he didn't want this dangerous draw on his senses. She wasn't a part of his plans.

He'd played the outlaw. Now he was playing a husband. Nothing more, nothing less. More playacting for the case. He'd shed this identity as quickly as he'd shed the last. Except none of this felt like playacting. In fact, everything about Lily was very, very real.

“What do we do now?” she asked, sounding slightly breathless. “What is the next part of the plan?”

“We wait.” For the next few days he'd play his part. “The marshal's office has taken the case.”

“What do we do while we're waiting?”

“I don't know.” She was becoming essential to him, and he feared his growing need. Losing his mother had taught him how deep grief could cut, and he never wanted to feel that pain again. “I guess we do whatever families do.”

Jake feared he was already in too deep.

Chapter Fifteen

T
wo weeks following the move to Cimarron Springs, Lily punched down the bread dough and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. In order to dissipate the awkwardness of their living situation, she was treating their circumstances as though they were all boarders in the same house.

While the accommodations were slightly smaller, the general idea remained the same. There were meals to be cooked and linens to be cleaned. She and Jake treated each other as though they were fellow boarders, as well. They offered polite greetings and made small talk at dinner.

They didn't kiss.

Though she'd frequently chafed at the monotony of housework before, after the chaos of her trip to Frozen Oaks, she'd embraced the mindless activities with gusto. If anyone had noticed something odd about the arrangement, they were too polite to question her.

They'd blended seamlessly into the town. Samantha and Peter had started school. Though their situation was only temporary, they enjoyed meeting the new children. They'd even made new friends. Their many tales of Africa and other travels had endeared them to the children. Not a day went by that Lily didn't marvel at their resilience.

None of them spoke of the future. Jake met with the marshal in town each day and they continued their search for Emil. In the interim, Jake assisted the marshal with other cases. They'd fallen into a pleasant routine marred only by the nagging fear of being discovered.

Jake's footsteps sounded from the front room and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind one ear.

He stepped into the kitchen and paused. “You're up early.”

“I couldn't sleep.”

He crossed to the larder and snatched a biscuit from the previous evening's meal. “I don't know if I've thanked you properly for taking over the cooking. You'd be sorely disappointed in my efforts.”

“I don't mind. I like having something to keep me occupied.”

He propped one hip against the counter. “Do you miss St. Joseph?”

“Sometimes. Not as much as I thought. I was marveling at how resilient the children are.”

“They've traveled all their lives. I suppose they're accustomed to being uprooted.”

She separated the bread dough into four loaves. “Have you discovered anything more about Vic?”

“Nothing of use. He's gone quiet. According to the man the marshal sent up, he and Regina are running the hotel as though they own the place.”

“Without Emil to dispute their claim, they can continue indefinitely.”

“Yep.”

“Which leaves us exactly where we started. Lots of rumors and suspicions, but no proof of anything.”

“Yes.”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“This must be very frustrating for you. You're trapped here, with us, when you'd rather be playing the outlaw in Frozen Oaks.”

He slathered butter on his roll. “Playing the outlaw isn't nearly as entertaining as it sounds. Besides, I much prefer the company here.”

“You're kind to say so.”

Truth be told, she was surprised he'd stayed as long as he had. After the first week, she'd expected him to bolt. She knew the signs. She'd seen the anxious tap of his leg at the dinner table when he talked about his work. She'd seen the way he gazed out the window each evening, as though planning his escape. She'd seen those same signs often enough in her father. Jake needed danger, and there wasn't much adventure to be had in a small town with a wife and children.

Jake glanced down the hallway and lowered his voice. “There's been no word about Emil either. I thought for certain he'd surface by now. He must be worried about his grandchildren, but he hasn't contacted the judge in St. Joseph. We've gone through all the mail you brought from Frozen Oaks. He's vanished.”

She stepped a little closer in case her voice carried. “Which means he's dead, or he doesn't want to be found.”

“Exactly.”

“What about the stagecoach and the livery?”

“I haven't heard anything from the stagecoach company, and we can't contact the livery without tipping off Vic and the sheriff.”

“And I destroyed any chance of you returning.”

“I did that.”

The twinge of guilt remained. “In my defense, I didn't realize you were a US marshal. I might have behaved differently.”

“Then I'm glad you didn't know. As long as you and the children are safe, then I've done my job.”

Peter stumbled into the room, bleary-eyed from sleep, effectively ending their conversation. Lily and Jake exchanged a look over his head. There'd be time enough for talk later. There was no use worrying the children.

Jake rinsed his hands in the basin by the sink. “I'm helping out the marshal this afternoon. I might be late.”

“Again?”

“The territory has doubled in size since he was assigned. He can't keep up. As long as I'm here, I thought I'd help out.”

“You'll be happier if you keep busy.”

“I'm not unhappy.”

She raised her eyebrows in question. “You must be bored.”

“Excitement is overrated.”

Peter asked for milk, interrupting their banter.

Better that Jake assisted the marshal than prowl around here like a caged animal. He'd hidden his discontent well, but it was apparent he wasn't a man who could sit around idly. Though he'd made some minor repairs on the house, there hadn't been much else for him to occupy his time with. If something didn't happen soon, she feared he'd leave them.

She didn't doubt he'd see to their safety, but she'd miss him. She'd miss him desperately.

“By the way,” Jake said, “my uncle and his wife have invited us for supper.”

“Do you think that's a good idea?” She slanted a glance at Peter. “You know, considering our circumstances.”

“Two weeks ago when I asked you how we should behave, you told me that we should behave as a regular family. Regular families have dinners with other families.”

“All right, all right. You know them best. If you think it's a good idea, we'll go.”

“Friday.” He shrugged into his coat. “I thought we might visit with the marshal and his wife, as well.”

“You're becoming quite the social butterfly.”

“The marshal and I have been working several cases.” He took another bite of his breakfast. “As for my uncle, I need another horse.”

Her smile faded. She mustn't forget this was all business for him. Meeting with the marshal was a chance to talk work. Meeting with his uncle was a chance to buy horses. She was reading too much into the simple events.

“I'd enjoy seeing your uncle again.”

Jake palmed his hat. “Then I'll make the arrangements. Don't wait up. There's a claim dispute with a stack of paperwork.”

She glanced behind her and noticed flakes drifting past the window. “We'll be here. Mind the snow. Caleb thinks we might see a blizzard.”

“Caleb has been predicting a blizzard for the past two weeks.”

“One day he might be right.”

“I guess if you throw enough darts at the board, you're bound to hit a bull's-eye eventually.” He set his hat on his head and adjusted the brim. “If the weather gets bad, I'll come home early.”

He was no more obligated to her than another boarder, but she appreciated that he always kept her apprised of his schedule.

The rest of the morning passed quickly. Samantha and Peter had finished their chores and sat in the parlor playing checkers. Lily stood over the sink and washed their lunch plates. She caught sight of something moving out the back kitchen window.

Crossing to the door, she abandoned her rising bread and wiped her hands on a towel. A very familiar goat scurried across the fresh coating of snow, his hooves leaving a speckled trail over the lawn.

She sighed and fetched the children. “We have a visitor. Finnick has returned.”

Their faces lit up. “Has he gone in the barn?”

“I think so. Why don't you fetch him home?”

She glanced outside. The snow fell in a steady sheet. Enormous, beautiful flakes that almost seemed suspended in air.

“Don't dawdle, though. If the snow becomes heavier, it'll be difficult to see your way home.”

“Ah, don't worry,” Sam said. “Caleb McCoy doesn't live very far. There's no way we can get lost between here and there. We've made the trip a thousand times.”

Once the two were bundled from head to toe, Lily ushered them out the back door. Returning Finnick had become almost a daily ritual. The children enjoyed Caleb, and the veterinarian always had some critter or another he was looking after.

Since she had the afternoon to herself, Lily cut the dough into strips and began forming them into knots. The rolls took a little extra time, but with the snow falling and the stove warming the house, she hadn't much else to do.

Lily was engrossed in the task, and the time passed swiftly. When the clock in the parlor chimed, she started.

She crossed to the back window once more and scratched a bit of frost from the pane. Gone was the cheery scene. Snow sheeted down in a thick blanket. Her chest seized. She swung open the door and sharp flecks of ice peppered her face. The children were nowhere in sight.

As she quickly freed herself from her apron, a myriad of dire consequences swirled through her head. Had Sam and Peter gotten lost? Hurt? Were they simply at Caleb's house waiting out the storm?

She forced a deep breath into her lungs. Probably Caleb had a new animal, and they'd gotten distracted. With that bracing thought, she donned her coat and boots, then fetched her hat and gloves. She'd walk the children home herself.

Once outside, the sharp wind stung her eyes, and she ducked her head. How had the weather changed this rapidly? The few blocks to Caleb's home took an eternity. Though she searched, there was no sign of the children.

Barely visible through the swirling snow, the veterinarian's office was a separate building near the three-story house. By the time she reached the door, her fingers had gone numb in her mittens.

She knocked and Caleb answered, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Mrs. Elder. Come in, come in. What's gotten you out in this weather?”

“The children. Sam and Peter. Have you seen them? They were bringing Finnick home.”

“I've been here all morning.” He shook his head. “They haven't been by.”

Her heart plummeted. “They haven't come home either.”

Caleb guided her to a chair and urged her to sit.

“I'll get my coat,” he said. “The marshal's office is only a block from here. We'll fetch your husband and Garrett, then send out a search party.”

He spoke with calm, matter-of-fact authority, but she sensed the urgency in his voice. Pressure built behind her eyes. Grateful for his speedy response to the situation, she stood and gazed out the window. Once he'd shrugged into his hat and coat, she followed him outside. The snow nearly blinded her. Without Caleb's back to follow, she doubted she'd have made it to the marshal's office.

The warmth immediately enveloped her. She stomped the snow from her boots and whipped off her chilled mittens.

Jake stood from behind a desk heaped with papers. “What's happened?”

A surge of longing rushed through her. She didn't want to be strong anymore—she wanted a shoulder to lean on. He was sturdy, he was capable; he'd know what to do. He'd never let them down. She rushed across the room and threw herself into his arms.

“It's the children. They're lost. I've lost them.”

* * *

Jake caught her against his chest. “Surely it's not as bad as all that.”

“Look outside. You can hardly see your hand before your face. Without Caleb, I'd have gotten lost on my walk here.”

He glanced out the window. “I hadn't noticed.” He rubbed his eyes. “This paperwork never seems to end.”

Caleb rubbed his hands together over the potbellied stove in the corner. “We'd better form a search party. Staying organized is better than flying off in all directions. It's bad out there, Jake. And it's only getting worse.”

The edge in his voice sent a chill of anxiety through Jake. Panicking wasn't helpful. He had to treat this like any other missing person. Without emotion. Keeping his head was paramount. Otherwise he was no use to anyone.

“What happened?” Jake asked, softening his voice against Lily's distress. “How long have they been gone? Where were they headed?”

“They left almost an hour ago. I was making rolls for dinner. I didn't realize how much time had passed. Finnick came to visit. They were taking him home.”

“That's where we'll start. The path between the houses.”

“Yes, except I walked that path already. I didn't see them.”

“With this snow, you might have walked right past them. We start with the obvious, then fan out from there.”

“I was distracted.” She covered her face with her hands and choked off a sob. “I didn't notice the time. I didn't notice how bad the snow had gotten or how long they'd been gone.”

“I've been here working. I didn't notice either.” He rubbed her shoulders, soothing the tense muscles. “You can't blame yourself.”

“I most certainly can, and I will.”

“Let's not panic yet.” He cupped the back of her head and tucked her against his chest. “There's every chance they're already home and wondering where you've gone.”

She hugged him close. “I hope so.” She pushed him away and appeared to gather herself. “We're wasting time.”

He sincerely hoped he could be the man she thought him to be. He had to find those children, and quickly. In that moment, he'd risk anything for them.

“I'll walk you home and check the house and the surrounding area,” he said. “Then we'll retrace their steps.”