list of items Mrs. Brooks wanted. She sidestepped a patch of ice, then grabbed her skirts in one hand to ascend the steps to the boardwalk. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Jake talking to a tall, slender woman dressed in a black cloak. She couldn’t see the woman’s face, but her height complemented Jake’s broad shoulders.
Jake helped the woman down the steps, his gaze following her as she crossed the street and headed toward the train station. An unexpected pang of longing caught Livy by surprise. Did Jake ever watch her out of sight like that? She shook her head, banishing the question as quickly as it surfaced. Her mind conjured up the strangest notions. She didn’t want a husband or the family that came with one. She’d committed herself to saving orphans, not marrying and throwing more children on the mercy of society.
Jake started her way, his head down, hat obscuring his vision. Panic coursed through her. He’d see her if he kept on track. Should she stay on the narrow boardwalk or duck into one of the stores? Her choices were the gunsmith’s or the barbershop. Not having business in either establishment, she stayed glued to the spot.
Just as he reached her, he glanced up. A slow smile filtered across his face, leaving Livy slightly weak in the knees.
“Livy.”
Her name rolled off his tongue like a caress. Over his shoulder, she spotted the woman in black hurrying away in the opposite direction. She fingered her basket, irritated. He should save his smiles for the willowy woman in black. “Good morning, Jake.”
“Where’re you off to this early?”
“To the mercantile. Mrs. Brooks needed me to pick up a few things for her. I also want a bit more yarn.”
“I don’t think you’re going to find McIver in his usual friendly mood.” Jake glanced at the mercantile.
“Really? What makes you say that?”
“Somebody broke in to the store last night and stole an expensive pocket watch and a skinning knife, among other things.”
“Oh no.” Livy frowned, the woman in black pushed to the back of her mind.
“Sam think it’s that riffraff from Chicago.”
Livy’s heart skipped. The merchants wouldn’t stand for much of this. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. But it’s my job to find out.”
“Be careful, Jake.”
A tiny smile quirked up one side of his mouth, and he reached out and squeezed her elbow. Such an innocent touch, but one she felt to the tips of her toes. “I will.”
Jake tipped his hat and strode away, his boots loud on the boards. Livy turned toward the mercantile and frowned. Why would the children take a watch? She could understand the skinning knife, but a timepiece? They might be intending to sell the goods, but where? She thought back to the day they’d picked Jake’s pocket. They’d taken a risk pilfering something that wasn’t purely for survival. Street kids would filch food and clothing to stay alive, but their code of ethics demanded they not steal for profit. They had their pride, tattered though it might be. And as long as they stayed out of sight and out of mind, upstanding citizens ignored them. Most of the time, anyway.
Livy made up her mind. Until now, she’d respected the boys’ fear of exposing themselves to those in authority or coming to the orphanage for help. She well understood the consequences that might befall a street urchin if he or she fell into the wrong hands.
But no more.
She’d seek out those boys and find out why they’d risk the wrath of the local merchants, and the law, by doing something so foolish.
Chapter Six
Tucked away at the base of a hillside on the outskirts of town, surrounded by cedars and cocooned in several inches of snow, Gus Jones’s cabin looked downright cozy. But Jake knew better. The rickety structure could collapse at any time. Sheriff Carter had tried repeatedly to get the old man to move into town, afraid they’d come out one morning and find him buried under the remains of the shack.
But Gus refused. Said the cabin with its lean-to was all he and Little Bit owned.
Jake heard the humming before he dismounted and tied his horse to a low-lying tree limb. Another Christmas carol.
“Hello, the house?”
The humming stopped, and silence descended. But Gus didn’t answer his call or come to the door.
“Gus, it’s me. Jake. I need to talk to you.”
After what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open, and Gus squinted out through the sliver of a