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  He needed to keep reminding himself of that, as well.

  * * *

  Cassie Lynn turned back to the stove. Wherever the three of them ended up, she hoped Noah would get the schooling he needed. Without the ability to read, a person missed out on so much.

  Perhaps she’d mention something to Mrs. Flanagan about Noah needing reading lessons. The widow was a former schoolteacher and would probably relish having the opportunity to slip into that role again.

  But Cassie Lynn still wondered why Noah hadn’t spent much time in a classroom. Surely Mr. Walker hadn’t pulled the kids out of school the way her father had done with her. Noah’s uncle didn’t seem the type to place such little value on education.

  Mr. Walker had definitely looked uncomfortable with her question, though. There seemed to be something important he was leaving unsaid. Then again, she was a relative stranger to him—she shouldn’t expect him to share confidences with her.

  So why did she find herself wishing he would?

  Chapter Nine

  Once the kitchen was set back to rights after lunch, Riley turned to Miss Vickers. “I have a couple of hours before I go back to the livery. Why don’t you show me to the attic, and I can tackle whatever needs doing to get it set up for tonight.”

  “Of course.” She led him to the end of the hallway and opened a door to reveal a narrow set of stairs. Leading the way, she climbed with graceful movements.

  When they reached the top, Riley paused to study the space. It was surprisingly roomy. The ceiling was tall in the center and sloped down near the eaves. There were two dormer windows on the front portion and large round ones on either end. The windows were a bit grimy, but provided enough light to make out the objects in the room.

  There were a lot of odds and ends stored haphazardly about the place, but with some rearranging there should be more than enough open space to make a decent sleeping area.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He stepped farther into the attic. “This will work just fine.”

  She waved a hand toward the nearest window. “I thought we’d clear a space over there so you could take full advantage of the light. It’ll mean moving quite a few things around, though.” She pointed to the other dormer. “And if we move things away from that window and clean it up a bit, it will let in even more light.”

  He nodded. “I agree. I’ll get started shifting items around. Does it matter where I place them?”

  “As far as I can tell, there’s no rhyme or reason to how objects are stored up here. Oh, and while you’re working, if you see anything you can use as furniture or for storage, feel free to do so while you’re here.” She moved back toward the stairs. “I’ll fetch the broom and some cleaning rags.”

  Riley went to work. Most of the pieces were light—someone had had to cart them up those stairs, after all. But there were a few heavier items that required muscle. He did find a few odd pieces of furniture he could make use of—a sturdy chair with a loose arm, a crate that would serve as a bedside table, a bench he could use as a shelf to set things on, and a trunk he could use for storage.

  While he worked, Miss Vickers returned with her cleaning supplies and promptly started wiping down the window. Before long, the sun was shining through with unobstructed brightness.

  Then she wended her way through the clutter to the other dormer and cleaned that window, as well.

  Riley smiled as he caught the sound of her soft humming. Strange how comfortable this felt, as if they didn’t need to fill the silences with words to feel connected.

  She was still working on the windows when he finished moving things around, so he grabbed the broom and began sweeping.

  A few minutes later she turned and met his gaze across the room. He saw surprise flicker across her expression before she bustled toward him.

  “I’m sorry.” She reached for the broom. “Here, let me do that.”

  What was the matter? Didn’t she think he was capable of sweeping the floor? “No need. I’m just about finished.”

  She watched him uncertainly for a moment, then nodded. “In that case, I’ll go fetch the quilts we can use to make your bed.”

  He watched her go, still wondering at her strange reaction. Did she really not expect him to do his own chores? What kind of people had she been raised around?

  She made three trips, carrying two quilts the first two times. By the time she made it up with her third load, a pillow and sheets, he’d finished sweeping and had dragged his “furniture” pieces in place.

  “I figured I would fold each quilt in half and stack them on top of each other to build your pallet.”

  “Easy enough.” He grabbed two corners of the top quilt and waited for her to do the same.

  When they were done, there was a pallet that was not only wide and long enough to accommodate him, but one that stood over a foot tall. She placed the pillow on top and covered the whole thing with one of the sheets.

  Then, she stepped back. “I’ll admit it’s nothing fancy, but I hope you’ll find it adequate.”

  He stroked his chin as he studied it. “Actually, considering the roominess of this place and the comfortable-looking furnishings, I could argue that I have the nicest room in the house.”

  She grinned. “I’ll let Mrs. Flanagan know that you’re pleased.”

  “All kidding aside, do you mind if I ask why you’re doing all this for us—nursing the kids, inviting us to stay here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful, but we’re strangers to you. And this is no small service you’ve volunteered to perform.” It was his experience that there were often ulterior motives behind offers of this sort. And even if that wasn’t the case here, their current situation was precarious enough that a bit of good-intentioned interference could place them in a difficult situation.

  “Not entirely strangers,” she responded. “Even though I only met you two days ago, I think I know enough about you to know you’re a good person.”

  He raised a brow. “Do you, now?”

  She nodded, seeming absolutely confident. “I do. I can tell you really care about your niece and nephew, so you can’t be all bad. And not only did you immediately find yourself a job your first day in town, but you’ve been helping out around here a good bit as well, so you’re not a layabout. And you’ve taken all the right steps since you discovered your niece was sick, so you’re a responsible person.”

  Then, Miss Vickers gave a curiously self-deprecating grin. “Besides, I’ve taken quite a liking to Noah and Pru. In fact, I sort of miss being around kids. I suppose it comes from growing up with four brothers.”

  It still didn’t sound like reason enough to take in a sick child she barely knew, much less all three of them. But perhaps he should stop looking for reasons to question his good fortune and just accept it.

  Then she spoke up again, her expression diffident. “Besides, I do have another reason to be happy you all are here.”

  “And that is?”

  “Mrs. Flanagan, for all her bluster, is a lonely woman. Her husband and youngest son died in an accident about six years ago. Her oldest son, John, joined the army the year before that, so he’s rarely around.”

  Riley sympathized with the woman—he, too, had lost people close to him. “But you’re here with her, so it’s not as if she’s alone.”

  “True, but I work for her, so that’s really not the same. Even though I’ve grown quite fond of Mrs. Flanagan in the time I’ve been here, from her perspective, I’m here because she pays me to be.”

  Riley wasn’t sure he agreed with that. From what he’d seen so far, it appeared Mrs. Flanagan treated her a lot like family.

  But he let Miss Vickers do the talking.

  Her expression softened. “You should have seen her face when she was speaking to Noah af
ter you left this morning. She came alive in a way I haven’t seen her do before. I think she would truly be saddened if you should leave and take the children with you.”

  “But our stay here is only temporary—just until the children get better.”

  “I know, but by then she’ll be that much closer to having the use of her leg again, and in the meantime you will have filled her days with something besides her own thoughts.”

  Riley lifted his hands in surrender. “Well, whatever your reasons, Miss Vickers, I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me and the kids.”

  “I would consider it a favor if you would call me Cassie Lynn instead of Miss Vickers.”

  Her request startled him, but not unhappily so.

  “After all,” she continued, “it appears we’ll be living under the same roof for a couple of weeks. It seems a bit silly to stand on ceremony.”

  “Of course, Cassie. And you should call me Riley.”

  He noticed a bit of pink staining her cheeks and that she wasn’t quite meeting his gaze any longer.

  “I think we’ve done all we can for now,” she said, then finally turned to meet his gaze again. “If you don’t have to return to the livery just yet, I do have a quick errand I’d like to run.”

  “Of course.” Was she just trying to make her escape? He was fairly certain she’d made that request about names impulsively and that it had embarrassed her. But she wore the pink in her cheeks quite well.

  Thinking back over all the reasons she’d given for helping him, a part of him wished there’d been something in there that indicated she’d wanted him close by, as well.

  And the twinge of disappointment he’d just felt at that thought was yet another good reason to move on as soon as possible.

  * * *

  As Cassie Lynn headed down the sidewalk, she wondered if she’d been too bold in suggesting the use of first names. It wasn’t something she’d planned, but it had seemed natural when she’d said it. It wasn’t until she’d seen the surprise in his expression that she realized what she’d done.

  Ah well, it was done now and she couldn’t say she regretted it. Realizing she’d been moving slowly, Cassie Lynn picked up the pace. She’d considered canceling her normal afternoon walk today. The additional responsibilities she’d taken on with the children didn’t leave her with much free time. But there was one errand she really wanted to run.

  Resisting the temptation to head out in the direction of the livery as usual, Cassie Lynn resolutely turned her steps toward the restaurant, which just so happened to also house the town’s library.

  As soon as she walked in the door, Daisy came bustling over to her. “Hello again. I have to say, my customers are loving those pies of yours. I’d like to order three for tomorrow if that’s okay.”

  “Absolutely!” Then Cassie Lynn gestured toward the bookshelves to her left. “I was hoping to be able to find some reading material for a sick little girl who’s staying with Mrs. Flanagan.”

  Daisy waved her on. “Abigail isn’t here right now, but pick out what you want and leave the information in her ledger.”

  Conscious of the hour, Cassie Lynn resisted the urge to take her time browsing and quickly selected two works she thought a ten-year-old might enjoy.

  On her way back to Mrs. Flanagan’s house, she saw Mr. Drummond, the undertaker, step out of the mercantile. She tried to study him objectively without outright staring. This man could be her husband soon. Finicky was how Mrs. Flanagan had described him, and Cassie Lynn supposed he was.

  As usual, he was fastidiously dressed, his clothing trim and neatly pressed, his hat perfectly situated on his no-hair-out-of-place head. He was a tall, spindly, bespectacled man who reminded her a bit of a farsighted grasshopper.

  Chiding herself for the unkind comparison, she continued on her way. What would he think of her? Though she kept herself neat, she didn’t consider herself fastidiously so. And would he expect his home to be kept completely spotless and perfectly organized? Would such a wifely requirement give Cassie Lynn much time to run her bakery business?

  Those were things they would need to discuss if she made it to the point of proposing to him.

  For some reason, thinking of that made her mood turn gloomy.

  She arrived back at Mrs. Flanagan’s house just in time to see Riley carrying the trunk on his shoulder down the hall. The effort had drawn his shirt taut across his back. She paused a moment to admire the play of muscles in his arm and back. Nothing spindly or grasshoppery about this man.

  She quickly placed the books on the hall table and bustled forward. “Just a moment,” she said as she slipped past him. “Let me get the door for you.”

  She tried hard not to stare as he set the trunk down in the children’s room, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. There was just something about this man...

  He straightened, then turned back to her. “Now that you’re here, I need to head out to the livery.”

  Hoping he hadn’t caught her staring, she nodded quickly. “Of course. I’m sorry if waiting for me made you late.”

  He led her back into the hall and toward the kitchen. “Not at all. In fact, I have a favor to ask.” His expression held a self-deprecating grimace. “If you don’t mind my leaving the kids in your care for a little longer than planned, I’d like to take River for a run after I finish at the livery. He hasn’t had a chance to really stretch his legs since we got here.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. To be honest, I can use the exercise, as well. I always think better when I’m out riding.”

  “In that case, take as long as you wish.” The man probably needed to do quite a bit of thinking, given the circumstances of the past twenty-four hours.

  When he had gone, she remembered the books she’d left in the entryway. Fetching them, she headed to the kids’ room, where she smiled at Pru. “I have a surprise for you.”

  The little girl sat up straighter, her expression uncertain.

  “I stopped at the library today and picked up some new books for you to read.”

  A wide grin split her face. “For me?”

  Cassie Lynn nodded, not certain if the girl understood what a library was. “You can take as long as you like reading them, and when you’re done, I’ll bring them back to the library and trade them for new ones.”

  Pru’s expression changed to one of wonder. “You mean as many times as I want?”

  Cassie Lynn nodded. “For as long as you are here in Turnabout, anyway.”

  Cassie Lynn could understand Pru’s delight. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing better to help you forget how miserable you were feeling than to lose yourself in a good book.

  * * *

  Riley finished hitching Scarlett to the livery’s buggy and led the conveyance to a waiting customer. It had been a busy afternoon, but he was glad of it. Working kept his mind from fretting over circumstances he couldn’t change.

  Horses were so much less complicated than people. Just one of the many reasons he preferred them to most folks.

  As soon as Mr. Olson rode off in the rented buggy, the buckboard that had gone out earlier was returned. Riley unhitched the horse, checked her to make sure she was okay, and then brushed her down and gave her a bit of feed. Once that was done, he led the mare out to the corral and turned her loose.

  And then he was free to leave.

  Riley quickly saddled River and mounted up. Before long he was heading out of town, looking for a nice open stretch of road where he could let River have his head and stretch out in a full gallop.

  He’d wired Claypool this morning to tell him the situation with the kids and to let him know he wouldn’t be at the meeting on Wednesday. He’d received Claypool’s response today and the detective had strongly encou
raged Riley to find a way to attend. That he wasn’t sure their informant would be forthcoming with him alone.

  So now Riley was pondering options.

  And there really was only one: ask the ladies to watch over the children while he went to Tyler. Which would mean he’d have to be away from Pru and Noah overnight.

  Could he do that—go off and leave the kids in someone else’s care while he was so many miles away?

  If he did ask the ladies to do this, how much of the children’s story should he tell them? And if he did, would they still be as welcoming?

  Growling in frustration, Riley saw the stretch of road he’d been looking for and nudged River into a full gallop.

  Chapter Ten

  After supper that evening, Cassie Lynn stood up from the table and fetched the pie that rested on the sideboard.

  “So, what have you baked up for us tonight?” Mrs. Flanagan asked.

  “A cinnamon-apple-pecan pie.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Riley said.

  “Baking is Cassie Lynn’s specialty.”

  He nodded. “So I hear.”

  “She’s always experimenting with new flavors.”

  “Experimenting, you say?” Riley raised a brow. “Should I be worried?”

  “What, you’re not adventurous?” Cassie Lynn teased as she set the pie tin on the table.

  “Not when it comes to food.”

  Noah, however, leaned forward eagerly. “Well, I am, especially when it smells as good as this does.”

  “Why, thank you, Noah. Just for that, you get the first piece.”

  He sat up straighter, chest puffing out in selfimportance. Cassie Lynn dished up a piece and handed the saucer to the little boy. Then she cut another serving and passed it to Pru, who had joined them at the table for supper tonight. The third slice went to Mrs. Flanagan.

  Finally, Cassie Lynn turned to Riley. “What do you think? Have I given you enough time to gather your courage to try a piece?”

  “Since no one else seems to have suffered any ill effects, I suppose I’m willing.” His voice was solemn, but she saw the laughter in his eyes.