A Heart's Blessing - Linda Ford Page 0,22
had died peacefully in her sleep. Both of them poisoned by gas when Mirabelle forgot to open the damper.
Silence filled the room, broken only by her rubbing her finger along the hem of the sheet at her side.
“I agree, but they weren’t totally spared.” Her eyes came to his, so full of misery that he wondered she didn’t weep. “Their uncle, in cahoots with another man, kidnapped them. Thanks to the intervention of a neighbor, they were rescued quickly.” Her gaze grew brittle and she continued. “Certainly no thanks to the man who I thought loved me. He was the accomplice. He thought the money more important than the children.” The words were spit out with the fury of a Gatlin gun he’d heard once as they traveled west.
Her words tore through his brain. Her beau was willing to gain from kidnapping the children. He couldn’t reconcile the idea with the pleasure of learning to know Sally and Kent.
“Is that why you came west?”
“It is. I don’t think either man will think it’s worth it to follow us. Besides, I have Hilda and Laura to help watch over them.”
“And now me.” He hoped his look gave her assurance.
She studied him long and hard, until he was ready to squirm. Finally, she said, “I’m not as willing to trust as I once was.”
“I understand.” But he couldn’t deny a bit of hurt that she couldn’t trust him. He’d done nothing to make her think she couldn’t. And he never would. She’d learn that eventually.
The house was quiet. He lit the nearby lamp and the golden glow puddled around them. It also made them an easy target. He rose, pulled the curtains closed, and moved the lamp away some.
She eyed him.
“Do you think there’s any coffee left?” Going to check provided him with an excuse to prowl around the house. Check the perimeter and then lock the doors.
Seeing nothing to concern himself outside he went to his own shop and locked the doors then returned to the café, locking the front door and then the back. Only then did he return to the sickroom. And remember he’d forgotten to find his pistol. He wasn’t a man who often carried a firearm. Besides, showing up with it would alert Miss Morton to his concerns.
“I thought you’d gone home. You can, you know. I’ll be fine.”
“Just checking on things. Closing up my shop.”
He pretended a great interest in straightening the corner of the sheet nearest him. “My pa always locked the saddlery shop he owned back in Rockview, Nebraska. He was a careful, diligent man and taught me to be the same.”
“I see.” Her tone was less than convincing. “So what circumstances brought you here from Rockview, Nebraska?”
Talking about the past kept him from having to tell her his real reason for checking on things. No need for her to worry. “Murder.”
“What? Same reason as me? That seems odd.”
“My brother was falsely accused of it. Even when he was found innocent, the good people of Rockview treated him like he was guilty. We had no reason to stay, so we left.”
“No family? What about your father? Your mother?”
“My mother died before she had to bear the awfulness of the trial. My pa is still there though his saddlery shop is no longer as prosperous as it once was. We tried to convince him to come with us, but he said no. Said he was ready to accept whatever came, but he wasn’t leaving a business he spent all his life building.” Talk about the business. Even the trial. Just don’t talk about Mirabelle and Myra. “I know the saddlery business and heard about this shop being for sale, so here I am.”
“And your brother?”
“He’s working for a rancher nearby.” Not wanting to talk any more about himself and his trials, he said, “Tell me about the ladies who came with you. Miss Fisher, I’ve met. A little skittish.”
“She has her reasons.”
“No doubt. I met Mrs. Meyer once. Has she moved on?” He knew she hadn’t but had to keep the conversation away from him.
Miss Morton smiled, seemed as relieved for the direction of the conversation as was he. “She’s the reason we came here. She was friends with Audrey Hooper though Audrey is now Mrs. Cyril Holmen. She came west with her four younger stepbrothers. They own a ranch west of here—Coulee Crossing, they call it. The men have all married, and Audrey was no longer needed to run their home. Turns out she