Clay dug his hands into his pockets while he shifted from one foot to the other.

  Lily recognized the signs pointing toward obfuscation. “Take off your coat and sit at the table. I saved dinner for you. It won’t take but a few minutes to heat up the stew. You can use that time to think about whether you want to tell me a story or tell me the truth.”

  Clay sighed. He looked back at Roen as he began to slip out of his coat, but his mother cleared her throat in a way that warned him he was on his own.

  “Come inside, Mr. Shepard. There is plenty of stew.”

  “I don’t want to impose. I’m here to make certain that Clay tells you about our adventure, but after seeing how well you have him in hand, I think my presence is unnecessary.”

  Lily was rather more intrigued than she wanted to be. “I’m not letting you leave now. Coat on the rack and take a seat.”

  “I’d like to keep my coat on if it’s all the same to you.”

  “I reckon that’s your prerogative.” She turned to rekindle the wood in the stove while Clay and Roen went to the table. It was tempting to look over her shoulder to see if she could catch them communicating in some fashion, but she resisted because she realized she wanted to believe that Roen Shepard had her son’s best interests on his mind.

  Lily removed the stew pot from the warming drawer and set it on the stove. She gave it a stir before she finally turned around. Clay was sitting opposite Roen. He was staring at the tabletop, his head bent like a penitent. Roen was staring at him. “Are you prepared to begin?” she asked. “The stew will be ready to eat in about five minutes. That should be enough time to tell me the truth.” The implication was that a story would take much longer.

  Clay lifted his head and looked at this mother. “I’m real sorry that I’m late. Mr. Shepard wanted me to go home straightaway once we got into town, but I figured he was paying for a full day’s work and I thought I should give it to him.”

  “Admirable,” she said dryly.

  “Uh-huh. I thought it was proper. Mr. Shepard wasn’t so sure, but I wore him down. Well, not so much wore him down as I wouldn’t leave his side.”

  “I see.” But of course, she didn’t.

  “I told him we should see Doc Madison first thing. He had other ideas. Wanted to unpack his work gear and make sure it was all undamaged. We left our last site in a hurry and didn’t have time to look things over.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Right. So we did that and then we argued about whether we should see the doctor or the sheriff. I was still of a mind that it should be the doc, but Mr. Shepard, well, he’s my boss, so we went to the sheriff’s office. Turned out it was a good decision because the doc was there.”

  “Two birds, one stone.”

  “That’s what Sheriff Ben said. We made our report while the doc tended to Mr. Shepard. Afterwards, we took the horses back to the livery, and here we are.”

  “And here you are,” Lily said softly. Her gaze swiveled to Roen Shepard. She could find no evidence that pointed to Ridley’s medical attention, but then he was still wearing his coat. She was thoughtful as she regarded her son again. “Do you think I’m satisfied with your explanation?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “I believe you. It’s just not the whole truth.”

  “Oh.” He had a short reprieve as Hannah, Ham, and Lizzie chose that moment to rush into the kitchen carrying cards and clamoring for Lily to tell them who had the better hand.

  “I’ve been teaching them poker,” she explained somewhat sheepishly. “I was bored with Old Maid.” Lily thought Roen’s chuckle rumbled too pleasantly in her ear for her peace of mind. She busied herself examining the hands her children thrust in her direction. “Ham’s full house is better than two of a kind, girls. Now, go on. No more interruptions.”

  After they ran off, Lily rose from the table, stirred the stew, and then portioned it out into two bowls. She placed the bowls in front of Clay and Roen and added a plate of bread, which she put between them. “No ceremony,” she said, taking her seat once more. “Eat up. Clay, I know you can talk with your mouth full so don’t let that stop you now.”

  Clay’s dark sideways glance was suspicious. “Are you funnin’ me?”

  “Where do you come by these expressions? No, that doesn’t require an answer. Yes, I was funnin’ you.”

  Clay nodded, swallowed. “You probably want to know what happened after we rode out this morning.”

  “That would be a good start.” She listened attentively to her son’s description of the work he performed for Mr. Shepard. It was clear not only that he was learning some useful skills but also that he was proud of his contribution. She did not want to dismiss his account by hurrying him along, but it required extraordinary patience on her part.

  “So we were packing up after we ate,” Clay said, “and I saw something moving off to my left. Not close, mind you. Probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all except that there was this glint, like something caught the sunlight and reflected it. Mr. Shepard didn’t see it so I asked if I could look through the telescope. He handed it over and that’s when someone took a shot at us.”

  Lily’s lips parted but no sound emerged.

  “Uh-huh,” said Clay. “You heard me right. I’m not hurt, Ma. Not a scratch, but Mr. Shepard got hit when he flung out an arm and pushed me to the ground. I’d guess you’d say he was a hero.”

  “I prefer to reserve judgment,” Lily said calmly.

  Clay nodded as if he’d expected that. “Now you know all of it. The whole truth like you asked for.” He tucked into his stew again and spoke around a hot mouthful of it. “Good stew, Ma. I told Mr. Shepard that the fried chicken Mrs. Butterworth packed for us was the second best I ever had. Yours being the first, of course.”

  “Of course.” Lily’s mouth lifted in a wry slant. “Do you think flattery is going to change my mind?”

  “Change your mind about what?”

  “You know very well.”

  He did. “I’m not gonna stop working for Mr. Shepard, Ma. I’m not. I told you he pushed me out of the way. And it was probably an accident that he got hit. That’s what he and Sheriff Ben think, and I’m inclined to believe they’re right.”

  “You don’t want to argue with me now, Clay.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Roen surreptitiously shake his head at her son. It explained why Clay’s mouth snapped shut. “I don’t require your assistance, Mr. Shepard.”

  “How well I know,” he said. “I simply didn’t want to hear him argue either.”

  Lily couldn’t quite tamp down her smile. “Would you like something to drink? I have tea. Coffee if you prefer. I don’t keep beer.”

  “Tea, please.”

  Lily got up and put on the kettle. She leaned back against the sink while she waited for the water to heat. “Is this the first someone’s taken a shot at you?”

  “While I’m conducting a survey it is.”

  “What are you not telling me? Someone’s taken a shot at you but not while you were going about your work?”

  “That’d be the gist of it.”

  “Are you going to explain that?”

  “No.”

  Clay spoke up. “He wouldn’t tell me any more either, Ma, but he’s been shot before, not just shot at.”

  “Is that right?” She wasn’t certain whom she was addressing at that point, but they nodded their heads simultaneously. “What was the purpose of surveying that particular parcel of land?”

  Roen explained his theory about the map being inaccurate. “We were on our way to proving that some of the land that Harrison Hardy claims belongs to the Double H is actually Twin Star property.”

  “Thaddeus Frost and Mr. Hardy have been neighbors and neighborly for years. If it’s not a bone of contention for the two of them, why make it one? Why is it important to you?”

  “It’s not personal, Mrs. Salt. It’s business. Mr. Hardy might have no legal right to sell the property even if he wanted to. Mr. Frost is potentially more amenable to an arrangement with Northeast.”

  “You think so?” She laughed under her breath. “What did Ben say when you told him that? You did tell him, didn’t you?”

  “He chuckled, same as you.”

  Lily started to respond to that and thought better of it. She extended a hand and touched Clay on the shoulder. “That bowl’s empty, son. You’re going to erase the ivy pattern next. Pass it here and go in the parlor with the others.”

  Clay’s mouth flattened and then turned down, but he got up and surrendered his bowl and spoon. His displeasure was further marked by his heavy footfalls as he left the kitchen.

  Lily waited until she saw he had turned the corner into the parlor and was well out of earshot. “Some things aren’t for his ears,” she said, “even if he thinks they should be. Do you know about Ben’s connection to Twin Star and Thaddeus Frost?”

  “Not really. I had the sense that he wanted to explain it to me, but then he looked at Clay and seemed to think better of it. Probably for the same reason you sent Clay out of the room.”

  “That’s Ben. I don’t think he’d mind me telling you. It’s not exactly a secret but it’s not for children either. I’m surprised Mrs. Springer hasn’t bent your ear about it already.”

  “She started to. Mr. Springer pulled her away.”

  “He’s had a lot of practice.” The kettle started to roil and Lily attended to it first, pouring hot water over the tea ball in the ivy-patterned pot. She set the teapot on the table and took out two cups and saucers from the china cupboard. “Most people believe that Ben is Thaddeus Frost’s son. Ben doesn’t make that claim. He probably doesn’t know for sure but that doesn’t stop folks from speculating. Mr. Frost raised Ben beside his own son and treated Ben as if he were a son so I tend to think the distinction of bastardy versus legitimacy is an unimportant one. Ben’s mother was a housekeeper at Twin Star for more than twenty years, and she helped care for Remington when his mother died of childbed fever. Ben was born sometime after that. You can see why people wonder about something that’s not their business.”

  Lily judged the tea had had enough time to steep and she poured for both of them. “Sugar? I don’t have milk. Lizzie had the last of it at dinner.”

  “Sugar, please. I don’t take milk.”

  Lily carried the sugar bowl to the table and let Roen serve himself. She sat then and drew the sugar closer to her cup when he was finished. “I’m telling you this to explain why Ben chuckled when you brought up Twin Star. I think he was letting you know that Thaddeus Frost isn’t likely to be any more amenable to an arrangement with the railroad than Mr. Hardy. Ben is close to all the Frosts so you have to figure he’d have at least an inkling of how Thaddeus would respond to an overture from you.”

  “Hmm.”

  “That’s all? Hmm?”

  Roen slowly stirred his tea. “It’s a lot to take in. I suppose I’m thinking that Ben had opportunities to tell me and didn’t. I’m wondering now how he feels about the railroad passing through Frost property. It’d be personal to him.”

  “Yes, it would, but probably not so that he’d take a shot at you,” she said, deadpan.

  One corner of Roen’s mouth twisted in a quirky grin, though he matched her arid tone. “Probably not.”

  Lily said, “Thaddeus settled a tract of land on him, the same as he did Remington, but Ben seems to be settled here in town and I haven’t heard that he intends to move to the ranch anytime soon. It wouldn’t suit his wife anyway, at least not while she’s practicing medicine.”

  Roen nodded, thoughtful. “Do you think he would accompany me to see Mr. Frost?”

  “I don’t know, but I imagine you’ll want to find out what Ben thinks about the railroad on Twin Star land first, and you’ll also want to ask him what he thinks Remington’s opinion would be. Don’t misunderstand; Thaddeus Frost is his own man. In the end, he’s the one you’ll have to convince.”

  “Before I do that, I have to discover who owns that strip of land I was surveying today.”

  Lily picked up her cup, sipped, and then set it carefully on its saucer. She looked steadily at Roen, her expression grave. “You understand you’ll be doing that without my son’s assistance.”

  “I’m very well aware. I explained that to him on the ride back to town. He had objections.”

  Her mouth curled in a half smile. “I’m certain he did.”

  “There are ways in which he can still assist me, if you will permit it, but I will not allow him to accompany me out of town even when the work site is miles beyond where we were today. You can take me at my word, Mrs. Salt. Today’s little adventure is not something I wish to repeat and not because I was shot.”

  Lily appreciated that Roen Shepard did not avoid looking at her. His gaze remained direct, sincere, and he tolerated her taking his measure. “All right, Mr. Shepard. I will take you at your word.” Could he possibly know how difficult it was for her to say that? Unlikely. He struck her as someone who was used to being trusted, and undoubtedly he had earned that reputation among his colleagues and from the company that employed him, but what did he really know about making and keeping promises to the mother of a headstrong boy? Lily released a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she realized she had just agreed to find out.

  “Thank you,” said Roen. “I appreciate your confidence.”

  “Don’t disappoint me.” Even to her own ears it sounded vaguely like a threat. Roen must have heard it the same way, she thought, because he blinked rather like an owl. Rather than dwell on the moment so that it required an apology, Lily forged ahead. “What did Ben have to say about the shooting? Does he suspect Mr. Hardy?”

  “No. Not Mr. Hardy himself, but I understand he has four sons and that any one of them might have found my presence objectionable. I’m going to ride out to the Double H with Ben tomorrow and introduce myself. None of the Hardys came to town for my presentation so this is an opportunity to put the facts before them.”

  “Or get yourself shot again. You could let Ben go alone, you know.”

  “I could. I suspect he’d prefer it, but he left it up to me. I don’t believe there was intention to do harm. The purpose was to run me off, and it worked. Whoever was doing the shooting might not realize he hit me. It’s merely a graze.”

  “Let me see.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Mr. Shepard.” Lily spoke his name in the firm and patient manner of one who would not be ignored or dismissed. He must have recognized the tone because he sighed and began to remove his coat. She observed him wince several times but declined to draw attention to it. When he finally shrugged off the coat so that it lay over the back of his chair, she had her first glimpse of the bloody rent in his sleeve and the bandage that covered his injury under it. “How many stitches did Ridley give you?”

  “Five.”

  Amused, Lily looked away from his wound to examine his face. “A graze doesn’t require stitches, Mr. Shepard.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “I realize that. Now. You tricked me.”

  “If you’d like to think that . . .” She offered an innocent, elegant shrug. “If you take that shirt to Mrs. Fish, she’ll pass it on to me for repairing.”

  “Or I could give it to you directly.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not done that way.”

  “Appearances. Yes, I understand. Very well, I’ll take this shirt and another that I purchased at Hennepin’s to Mrs. Fish.”

  “What’s wrong with the other shirt?”

  Roen lifted one of the drooping shoulder seams. “It looks like this.”

  “Oh.” Lily felt herself begin to smile and quickly raised her teacup to hide it.

  “It’s all right,” said Roen. “Your son’s already pointed out the flaws in my work attire.”

  Lily was genuinely appalled. “He did what?”

  “He spoke the truth. You can’t fault him for that.” Roen explained how one of his bags did not follow him when he changed trains in Saint Louis. “He also told me he prefers a hat like the sheriff wears to my derby.”

  “Clay is a bit too free with his opinions.”

  Roen shrugged. “Maybe, but he’s not wrong.”

  Lily’s lips parted, but the thought that was on the tip of her tongue stayed there. She bit her lower lip instead.

  “Go on,” he said. “I can see you want to say something. Is it the hat?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, it’s not the boots. Clay had a favorable view of my boots.”

  “Trousers,” she said on a thread of sound. “You might consider dropping off the trousers when you bring the shirts.”

  “Right. The trousers.”

  Lily caught the wry twist of his mouth and the even wryer twist in his tone. “You’re not offended?”

  “Offended? No. Humbled, certainly. In New York I have a reputation as a natty dresser, although I make no effort at it and take no pride in it.”

  She was amused. “I can see that. You as a natty dresser, I mean. Black silk evening suit with spoon-shaped coattail. White tie and vest. Top hat.”

  He put out a hand as if he could ward her off, but a rueful chuckle accompanied the gesture. “Please. You have to stop.”

  Far from stopping, Lily leaned forward and asked with earnest curiosity, “Do you attend the opera? I think you must attend the opera.”

  He sighed. “Only when my sister is in the production and only when she is one of the featured performers. I love Artemis, but I do not share her passion for the opera.”

  “Artemis Shepard? The coloratura soprano? She’s your sister?”

  “One of them. I suppose I need to stop being surprised that members of my family are known in what they would call parts unknown.”