Lily was not able to topple him, but to save his shirt from being rent, Roen had to step up to the edge of the bed. He thrust the blankets at her chest, and when she was off balance, he pried her fingers loose and backed away so that he was out of her reach.

  “What the hell, Lily?” He stared at the vague silhouette that she made. She was no longer on her knees, but she was still sitting up, her legs curled to one side and a shoulder resting against the iron rail head. “What’s wrong?” He managed not to add the two words he was thinking. “What’s wrong with you?” If he thought it would sound like an accusation, there was no chance that she would hear it as concern.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I understand what you don’t want,” he said quietly, matching her tone. “I don’t understand what you do.”

  Lily drew one of the blankets he’d shoved at her across her legs. The rest she pushed aside. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know or you don’t want to say?” When she didn’t respond, Roen decided it was time to light the lamp. It wasn’t as if he was still aroused. That erection was at best a memory. “Shield your eyes.”

  “What?”

  Roen opened the drawer in the side table and felt around for the box of matches. Fire flared as he struck a match. He raised the glass globe on the lamp, set the match to the wick, and replaced the globe. He shook out the match and returned the box to the drawer. When he looked over at Lily, she still had a hand over her eyes but was slowly separating her fingers. He waited until her hand fell away from her face before he pointed to a vacant portion of bed near her feet. “May I?”

  She nodded but didn’t look at him.

  Roen eased himself onto the bed. “Is it the drink, Lily? Is that what explains this?”

  “That can’t be an excuse,” she said. “That can never be an excuse.”

  It was tempting to pose another question, but Roen decided to allow silence to run its course and see what came of that.

  Lily bent her head, stared at her hands. The quiet felt heavy. At last, she said, “I’m afraid.”

  Roen stared at her troubled profile. Clearly the admission had cost her, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. He didn’t speak.

  “I didn’t know. That is, I didn’t know how deeply afraid I was or that I wore my fear like a hair shirt for so many years that I no longer felt it chafe. It’s not that meeting you made me unafraid, in fact, the opposite was true, but our situation is different now, and there is something like relief in my heart, an easiness when I breathe that is as unexpected as it is welcome.”

  Roen was struck by her confession, for almost certainly that is what it was. None of it was drunken sentiment. Lily’s declaration was as sober as she was. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again when she went on.

  “I understand why you wanted to go,” she said. “You were saving me from myself. What I did . . . it’s embarrassing when I think about it. I’ve never . . . well, I couldn’t . . .” Unable to find the right words, she shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “That was the drink, Lily. Not an excuse, an explanation. It was definitely out of character.”

  She looked at him then, straightforward and grave. “How do you know?”

  Roen was momentarily taken aback. “You just said you never, that you couldn’t . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence because neither had she.

  “Yes, but what if that has nothing to do with my character? What if it’s merely discipline?”

  Roen didn’t answer. He reached under his nightshirt for the watch in his pants pocket and opened it. “It’s ten minutes after two,” he said, holding the face out for her to see. He closed the cover and returned the watch to his pocket. “If you still have these questions in the morning, perhaps we could discuss them then.”

  “Coward. I heard you tell Clay you’re going out in the field tomorrow morning.”

  “Then another time,” he said, not snapping at the word “coward.” He started to rise and stopped when she took his hand. He sat again and studied her from under arched eyebrows.

  “You said earlier that you didn’t understand what I wanted,” she told him. “I want you to stay. I haven’t explained it well enough, I suppose, but having you here, in this room, makes my mind easy. My sleep was fitful at best before you came in. I saw the state of my covers when I woke, but I knew such a sense of peace when I realized it was you sitting in the chair.”

  “Who else would it be?”

  “You know.”

  “Tell me anyway, Lily. You’ve said almost nothing about him.”

  “Jeremiah,” she said. “I had a moment’s panic when I thought it was Jeremiah.”

  “Because you thought you were seeing a ghost?”

  She laughed without humor. “Because I thought I was seeing him.”

  Roen considered that. “I understand now.”

  “Ghosts, if there are such things, don’t frighten me.”

  “All right. I’ll stay. Hand me the blankets you tossed behind you. The one that’s covering you, too. That was mine.”

  “I have a better idea,” she said, plucking the blanket off her lap and legs. Instead of handing it to him, she began to roll it.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “You’ll be more comfortable in bed.”

  “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

  “I won’t. This is what is called a bundling blanket. Surely you’ve heard of the practice.”

  “Yes, but we are not living in colonial times. You know what they call people who practice bundling? Parents. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  Lily threw the half-rolled blanket at him. “If you must.”

  “Oh,” he said. “I must.”

  Something about the way he said it forced a flush under Lily’s skin. She quickly turned away, gathered the rest of the blankets, and dropped them over the side of the bed. Before she returned to her place, she reached for the lamp and extinguished it, plunging the room into darkness that seemed more impenetrable than it had been earlier.

  Lily took some small satisfaction that once Roen was down for the night, he was the one tossing and turning. She, on the other hand, slept without stirring, as quietly as a babe.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Roen followed the smell of fresh coffee and bacon all the way to the kitchen. In spite of the schedule he had set for himself, he was the last one at the table. He should have already been halfway to his work site. Bleary-eyed, he sat gingerly, feeling stiff in his lower back and neck. He smiled weakly as the children greeted him, and for some reason that made them giggle.

  “They think you’re hungover,” said Lily, pouring coffee into his cup.

  “I’m not,” he said, looking each child in the eye. “I’m cursed. Your mother cursed me.”

  “Did you, Ma?” asked Ham, much taken by this information. “What curse did you use? Damn? Hell? Maybe dammit to hell.”

  Roen put a hand across Ham’s mouth. “That’s enough.” When he felt Ham clamp his mouth closed, he removed his hand. “It wasn’t that kind of curse.”

  “I know others,” said Ham.

  “I don’t doubt it. Clay, pass the bacon, please.”

  “Sure.” He pushed the plate in front of him toward Roen. “I remembered what you said about going out this morning. I went to the livery and got your horses. They’re waiting outside for you. Yours is saddled. I just need to pack the other. Didn’t want to do that in case you changed your mind.”

  “Late start,” said Roen, “but I haven’t changed my mind. Thank you for doing that.” He forked two slices of bacon and put them on his plate. “Shouldn’t three of you be on your way to school?”

  “Mr. Stanton hasn’t rung the bell,” said Hannah. She mopped up her dippy egg with a triangle of toast. “Maybe he won’t today on account of being at the Songbird last night and refilling his glass more times than either you or Ma.”

  “I was drinking ginger beer last night, so it doesn’t matter how many times my glass was filled. I told you, your mother cursed me.”

  “Jumpin’ Jesus on a griddle,” said Ham, snapping off a piece of bacon. “That’s another good one.” He smiled as innocently as one of the devil’s minions when everyone stared at him. “What? Ben says that sometimes. He told me he knew a deputy who liked to say it.”

  Lily waggled her fork at Ham. “Well, I don’t like you saying it, so stop.”

  He looked down at his plate but his smile didn’t disappear. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Hmm,” Lily murmured, watching him. She shook her head, somewhere between amused and distressed, and then spoke to Hannah. “I didn’t see Mr. Stanton last night. I wonder why he didn’t make himself known.”

  “Probably because we were there,” she said. “And he wasn’t walking so well from what I could see. It was better that he held his end of the bar up.”

  Clay nodded. “He thinks no one at school knows he is a regular at the Songbird, but we all do. I reckon he thinks it doesn’t set a good example, but if he thinks that, he should drink at home like Pa did.”

  A hush fell over the table. Even Ham was staring at him. Alarmed by what he’d said, Clay’s head snapped in his mother’s direction.

  Lily said calmly, “It’s all right, Clay. Remember? We said we could talk about things. This is one of them. Your father did drink at home, but you know that he did some of his hardest drinking when he was at the Songbird. He liked being around other people, liked swapping stories, and making folks laugh. It was always fine until it wasn’t. He didn’t know when he’d had enough. When he was done, it was because he’d had more than enough. Maybe it’s the same for Mr. Stanton. Your father worked every day.”

  “Except when he was in jail,” said Hannah. “I don’t think Mr. Stanton’s ever been in jail.”

  “No,” said Lily. “We’d all know if he’d been there.”

  Just then they all heard the school bell ring and echo. Clay almost tipped his chair over as he pushed back from the table. Ham went sideways over his chair. Hannah politely excused herself before she dashed off.

  Lily called after them, “No stories at school about anything you saw last night.”

  “Or thought you saw,” Roen said.

  There was a chorus of “yes, sir” and “yes, ma’am” that indicated they’d heard and understood. Whether they would listen was an entirely different matter.

  Sighing, Lily wet the corner of her napkin and wiped Lizzie’s mouth. She examined her daughter’s plate. More than half of everything was gone. “Are you finished?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Go play in the front room.” Once Lizzie was gone, Lily said, “None of what you heard surprised you, did it?”

  “Only the part about jail. I didn’t know that. I suspected the rest.”

  “I thought Ben might have said something.”

  Roen shook his head. “A regular Sphinx, our sheriff.”

  “I suppose he is. You know, last night I couldn’t help but think that guilt is what prompted Buzz Winegarten to give the toast. Ben tried more than once to encourage Buzz to cut Jeremiah off after a few drinks. I don’t blame Buzz for not being able to do it, but I think he blames himself.” Her smile was a bleak curve. “I heard that Buzz was one of those who came to put the fire out. Gouty foot and all. That’s impressive.”

  “You heard?” asked Roen. “You didn’t see?” Something about that struck him as odd, and he knew he was right to think so when Lily changed the subject.

  “Do you want an egg? It will only take a moment.”

  Roen shook his head and reached for Lizzie’s plate. “I’ll eat what she didn’t.”

  Lily tried to stop him, but he hugged the plate and she had to give up. She stood and began to clear the table. “About last night,” she said. “Thank you.”

  He nodded but said nothing.

  “I told the children before you came down that you weren’t sleeping in because you’d been drinking, but then you came to the table looking the way you did and that’s why they laughed. They’re comfortable with you. When Jeremiah came to breakfast looking much as you did, no one laughed. No one would have dared. You have a bit of a cowlick, you know.”

  Roen put a hand on top of his head and smoothed his hair. “I thought I’d taken care of it. Is it gone?”

  “Almost.” She freed up a hand to tamp it down. “There. Now it’s gone.”

  He glanced up, suspicious. “Did you spit on your fingers?”

  “No. I only do that when I need to tame Ham’s hair. Relieved?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed and continued removing items from the table and setting them in the sink. “Where are you going today? Clay didn’t tell me.”

  “I didn’t tell him. I’m more comfortable if he doesn’t know. There’s less chance of him following. I told Ben and Hitch last night. Are you familiar with a place called Thunder Point?”

  “Familiar with the name. I’ve never been there.”

  “The way I understand it, it used to belong to someone named McCauley. He was an early prospector and later just a hermit.”

  “Mm. Old Man McCauley. I’ve never heard him called anything else.”

  “That’s right. Remington Frost owns the property now. Purchased it from the government after no proper deed for the place could be found. Ben got permission from his brother for me to look around out there. There’s a cabin and that parcel is off limits, but Ben thinks there’s more property that might be of interest to the railroad. I’ve looked at the maps, and I think there’s good reason to believe he’s right.”

  Lily pumped water into the sink. “Will you be here for dinner?”

  “Back before dark.”

  She nodded. “Then good luck. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Lily?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Hmm?”

  “I was thinking . . . Do you want to come with me?”

  Lily stopped pumping and turned around. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Come with you? Do you mean it?”

  “I did when I asked. Why? Do you think it’s reckless?”

  “No. No, I don’t. Apart from getting shot at, that is.”

  “No one’s going to shoot at us.”

  “I know, but I thought it should be mentioned.”

  “Well?”

  “What about Lizzie? I can’t leave her behind.”

  “You can leave her with Mrs. Rushton.”

  “Your housekeeper?”

  “My former housekeeper. She really works for Ben and Ridley. They shared her with me. I feel certain she would enjoy looking after Lizzie.”

  Lily hesitated. “There’s one more thing.”

  “And that is?”

  “I don’t ride. Or at least it’s been years since I sat on a horse. The last time was easily before I was married. I’d slow you down.”

  Roen started to speak, but Lily held up a hand. He nodded and waited to hear what obstacle she would present next.

  Lily lowered her hand. “I don’t have the clothes I’d need to ride in this weather. And no, I can’t simply stitch them up this morning. Also, I don’t own a proper pair of riding boots or gloves suitable for holding the reins.”

  “All of those things can be purchased. It’s what I had to do when I arrived in Frost Falls.”

  “I suppose, but not before you need to leave.”

  “So I’ll go out today on my own, and you will come with me tomorrow after you’ve been to the shops.” He pushed his plate away and stood. “I’ve heard enough.”

  “But not everything,” she said.

  “What further complication can there possibly be? You still want to do this, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do, but I can’t afford what you’re suggesting.”

  “I see. I apologize. It didn’t occur to me that you’d think you would be paying out of your pocket. I have credit in all the shops you’ll need to visit, even Mrs. Fish’s because you did the alterations to my shirts and trousers. Does that satisfy?”

  Lily bit her lower lip and nodded.

  Roen regarded her doubtfully. Hers was not the face of satisfaction. “I’m going to pretend that you mean it because I have to leave, but we will discuss it this evening. If you don’t change your mind about accompanying me, you’ll be able to make arrangements with Mrs. Rushton.” He stepped around the table and crossed to her at the sink. “It was a serious invitation, Lily. I hope you’ll be joining me.” He bent, kissed her cheek, and left before she was able to find words so she could have the last one.

  * * *

  • • •

  Lizzie was excited to be going out. Lily was much less so. Her stomach turned over the moment she stepped out of the house, and a bead of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. For her daughter’s sake as much as her own, she put on a brave face. It was not that she never went out but that her destinations were limited to the church, Mrs. Fish’s dress shop, the sheriff’s, and less frequently, the doctor’s and the drugstore. Mr. Hennepin at the mercantile was visibly taken aback when she walked in the store. He tried to hide his astonishment by fussing over Lizzie, and Lily smiled because it was really very sweet of him. If he had questions about her purchases, he was too polite to inquire. He wrapped everything neatly in brown paper and tied it off with a string before he took the pencil from behind his ear to add up the cost. He applied it to Roen Shepard’s credit and gave Lily a receipt, which she tucked into her reticule.

  At the leather goods store, Lily tried on several pairs of boots. She was disappointed but not surprised that none of them fit well. Mr. Addison suggested taking her measurements to have a pair made specifically for her. She declined and chose the pair that was the least ill fitting. Extra thick socks and some crushed newspaper in the toes would fill out the boots. She reasoned she would be doing more riding than walking and they would suit for that purpose.