home to roost, like I warned you they would."
Evie picked up her skirt and started down the alley. "You're the one who said we needed to be careful. You're the one who agreed I might be in danger if I used my own name. Now don't go preaching honesty at me now, Daniel. And I haven't told a single lie in..." She contemplated the last time she'd let her imagination stretch the truth a little. "Well, I don't think it's been since I told Mr. Hale about my friend in St. Louis. There hasn't been a need to lie about anything."
"That's because the truth has become more fantastic than your imagination. Now that you know who your parents are, why don't you just go over to Hale and ask about the money? You know there has to be some. Those lawyers in St. Louis may be keeping it for themselves."
"That's what Mr. Peyton says. My father," she amended. Evie halted before the porch and looked at Daniel with bewilderment clouding her eyes. "But I just have this feeling that telling everyone who I am will come as an unpleasant shock to too many people. How will the Hardings feel when they learn the stepmother they idolize had a child out of wedlock? The children don't mind knowing I'm related to them, but what if there are other Howells out there I don't know about? How will they feel knowing Elizabeth wasn't a saint? For all that matters, the whole town thinks of her that way. And it's only my father's word against everyone else's that she wasn't. Who do you think they will believe?"
Daniel ran his hand through his hair in a gesture reminiscent of Tyler's, and Evie looked away. Tyler's absence was like a festering abscess in her center, but she couldn't let anyone know that. She waited for Daniel's reply without looking at him.
"Danged if I know, Evie, but you can't put it off forever. Your father says the house on that land of his isn't habitable, and it looks like he hasn't got much to put it back together with. If you could just get your hands on your mother's money, you could fix things up and insure that the children had a decent roof over their heads and clothes on their back."
"This roof is secure enough, and my father is helping out with groceries and clothes. We don't need any more than that." Evie started up the porch before Daniel could bring up the subject of Tyler's support again. Tyler didn't owe her any support. She wouldn't touch the account at the general store. It would be much better for everyone concerned if he would just win his darned card game and leave town. Maybe if she let him know that their foolish encounters hadn't borne fruit, he would go.
As they entered, Manuel dashed in through the back door with a huge grin plastered across his face. "Tyler's winning! Old Tom just put up his half of the saloon, and they're down there arguing over its worth. I've got to go back and see if Tyler took the bet."
Evie grabbed Manuel's collar before he could rush out. "You have no business being in a saloon. Where's Jose?"
Manuel glanced up at her in astonishment. Evie always smiled and never laid a hand to him. He didn't even try to struggle out of her grasp. "He's with Uncle Jim back at the saloon. I just came to tell you what's happening."
Evie sighed and let his collar go. "I am beginning to think your Uncle Jim and Tyler Monteigne are two of a kind. Go fetch Jose back here. It's almost time for supper."
Daniel sent Evie a swift look as she disappeared into the bedroom to take off her hat. How could she be so quick to recognize the characters of other people and never understand her own? She had been as restless as two tomcats in a box these last weeks. She had left Carmen to do most of the cooking while she finished that damned painting. Her classes at school had gone on more field trips in this past week than they had in an entire year. And unless she was painting, she never sat still. Her latest project involved replastering the old adobe walls with tinted materials. Admittedly, the sunny yellow was less dreary than the peeling mud of before, but she stayed awake all hours working on it. Even Evie's energy couldn't last that long.
When