“I don’t have any proof. Not yet.”
She drew herself up to her full height, as though a scant inch made any difference. “Then we’re at an impasse.”
“There is one thing.”
Lily glanced at something behind him and panic skittered across her face. “Look out!”
Pain exploded in his head. Jake pitched sideways. His legs weakened and collapsed beneath him. Landing on his back, he stared at the face hovering over him.
Sheriff Koepke clasped a shovel in his fisted hands. “This fellow will be spending the next few weeks in jail, miss. He won’t be bothering you anymore.”
“You can’t arrest him,” Lily protested. “He hasn’t done anything.”
“You were holding a gun on him. He must have done something.”
“We were, uh, we were only talking.”
The blow had knocked the strength from Jake’s limbs. His hands and feet tingled and his vision dimmed. After clumsily flipping him onto his stomach, the sheriff secured his wrists with metal shackles.
The sawdust itched Jake’s nose. A pair of delicate half boots drifted into his vision. A lock of her hair dusted his cheek.
“Did you have to hit him that hard?” Lily exclaimed softly. She touched the knot forming on the back of his head. “You’ve knocked him senseless.”
“That was the idea, missy.”
“What’s the charge?” Panic coated Lily’s voice. “Why are you arresting him?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. We got this all taken care of. Found some stolen goods in this man’s rooms over at the saloon. He’ll be locked up tight for a good long time.”
Nausea rose in the back of Jake’s throat and his head throbbed. They’d set him up. There was nothing in his room but a saddlebag and a change of clothes. The sheriff jerked him upright.
He stumbled and Lily steadied him.
“You can’t do this,” she said. “He was going to help me.”
“You’ll have to find someone else. This fellow is gonna be busy helping himself.”
She smelled of lilacs and her eyelashes fluttered like butterflies. He’d been mired in the job too long. There was so little good left in the world, he’d forgotten people like Lily existed. She was the whole reason he’d become a US marshal. If something happened to her, he’d be to blame.
Sheriff Koepke dragged him toward the door, a difficult task given the disparity in their sizes. A kind of rage Jake hadn’t felt in years welled inside him. He would be trapped in a jail cell for the foreseeable future.
Lily pressed her fingers over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were lying when you said he was following me.”
“I know.” The images at the edge of his vision shimmered like mirages. “Forget about Emil. Take the children back to St. Joseph.”
“I can’t. He’s their grandfather. They don’t have anyone else.”
The sheriff heaved him onto the street and he glanced over his shoulder. Lily clung to the door frame.
She’d never survive in Frozen Oaks alone.
The sight of Jake being dragged away to jail dominated Lily’s thoughts. The snow had ceased falling and sunlight glinted off the fresh layer of white. The restaurant was empty, the fire down to embers. The siblings remained huddled over their checkers game.
She had no doubt Jake was many things, but he certainly wasn’t a thief.
He’d known from the start she’d never shoot him. He could have turned the tables on her at any time. Though he was the obvious suspect in the disappearance of the children’s grandfather, she’d changed her mind about him after their last encounter.
Why had he urged her to leave instead of taking the upper hand? Why not abscond with the boys when she’d fainted? He’d had a second opportunity when she’d held a useless weapon on him.
She folded her arms on the table and buried her head in the circle.
Events had transpired too quickly, and she hadn’t considered all the separate details. Something was off, but she’d been too determined to prove she wasn’t naive orphan Lily to notice. She’d seen that odd mixture of regret and longing in the outlaw’s eyes before the sheriff had hauled him away.
She’d come to rely on the constants in her life. The barn swallows that nested beneath her window each spring. The familiar lonely ache in her chest each Christmas Eve. The smell of coffee brewing each morning. She’d never been able to wake fully without coffee, a trait she’d inherited from her father.
She stretched out her arms and cupped her hands around the steaming cup before her.
The coffee grinder she’d left back at the boardinghouse was her most treasured possession. As soon as she was old enough to reach the counter, the job of brewing had fallen to her. The one thing that had made her feel part of the family. She’d pour a measured scoop into the top and crank the handle. Then she’d open the tiny drawer and inhale the scent of fresh-ground beans. The aroma was inexorably intertwined with memories of her family. She’d never been able to separate the two, though she’d desperately tried.
Sam exclaimed victory and kinged a checker piece.
She needed a plan. She needed action. She needed an escape from all the drab autumnal colors oozing from the hotel parlor into the gloomy dining room.
Peter turned toward her. “What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know yet. But don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”
The sheriff had jailed the gunfighter before he’d revealed his evidence. Either way, she’d removed Jake from her list of suspects in Emil’s disappearance. Despite Vic’s and Regina’s attempts to frighten her, he’d never once exploited his advantage.
A part of her had thought Emil might return. They’d been delayed on their arrival; who was to say Emil hadn’t been delayed by the weather, as well? But with more days come and gone, her hope was dwindling. Which left her with one option: return Sam and Peter to St. Joseph and to the guardianship of the judge. And yet something held her back. She wasn’t prepared to declare Sam and Peter orphans just yet. Her stomach clenched. They deserved better.
Vic appeared in the dining room and an insidious sense of misgiving gripped her. When he smiled, the pink of his gums contrasted dramatically with his white teeth and colorless pallor.
He sidled over to her table and flashed her one of his odd half winks. “May I join you?”
He kept his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his elaborate waistcoat. That single piece of clothing must have cost a fortune. Every inch of the expensive fabric was decorated with colorful, intricately embroidered peacocks.
“I’m afraid I was just leaving.” Lily sprang to her feet. Vic’s obvious wealth should have excluded him from any interest in the inheritance of a couple of orphans, but he’d been awfully eager in turning her attention toward the gunfighter. “Please tell Regina how sorry I am that I missed her this morning.”
Though Lily doubted his attention was personal, she tossed in the reminder of his sweetheart. He struck her as the sort of man who preferred conquests to relationships.
“Certainly,” he said. “You seem agitated. Is something amiss?”
“Not