“What a curious little thing you are. If only you could stay longer.” Vic took her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. “Emil owns the barbershop across the street. His rooms are on the second floor.”
Lily resisted the urge to wipe her knuckles against her skirts. “Thank you.”
“Oh, and, Miss Winter, you can catch this evening’s stagecoach after all.”
Hope bloomed in her chest. “Then you’ve found Emil.”
“No.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The sheriff has granted me temporary guardianship of the Tyler children.”
“He can’t do that.” Her blood instantly chilled. “I don’t understand. The judge in Missouri was very specific. The children are to be delivered to their grandfather.”
Vic splayed his hands. “You’re in Nebraska now, Miss Winter. You’re under the laws and jurisdiction of this state, not Missouri. That means the sheriff is the authority.”
Glancing at Sam and Peter’s worried expressions, she offered a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Jurisdiction seems like an awfully big word for the sheriff. Are you certain the change in guardianship was his idea?”
“Regina says you were being paid.” Vic reached into his pocket and retrieved a fat wad of bills, then licked his thumb and rested the pad on the top layer. “I’ll settle the debt.”
She stumbled backward. “There’s no need.”
“I insist.” He peeled off enough bills to cover Lily’s salary for six months. “For your trouble.”
Sam stood and she gave a quick flick of her hand, urging silence. “That’s very kind of you, but I’d be shirking my duties if I left the children.”
“Oh, dear.” Vic’s pale lips turned down at the corners. “I’m not certain you have much choice, Miss Winter. You’ve involved the sheriff once already.”
She snatched the bills and clutched them against her stomach. She needed him gone, she needed time to think, and Vic wasn’t leaving unless he thought he’d won.
“This is very generous of you.” She lifted her eyebrows toward Sam and Peter, willing them to follow her lead. There’d be time enough for panicking later. “A trip to the mercantile is in order. The children were well-behaved on the trip. They deserve a reward.”
Anything to stall for time and escape the hotel.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Winter. I hope you’ll visit our little town again one day.”
“I doubt I’ll be back.”
“You might be surprised.”
“My stay has certainly been filled with unexpected revelations.”
If he caught the implied insult, he let the discretion pass. Absently whistling a lively tune, he strolled from the dining room once more. As soon as he was out of sight, Lily shook out her hands.
Sam and Peter rushed forward.
“Are you leaving us?” Sam demanded. “Where will we stay?”
“I don’t like him,” Peter said. “I don’t want to stay here without you.”
Perhaps it was his odd pale coloring, but there was something about Vic that struck her as sinister.
“Don’t worry.” Lily hugged them close. “I’ll sort this out.”
With his peacock waistcoat and colorless skin, Vic would make an excellent villain in one of Peter’s novels. She certainly didn’t trust his motivations. There was no way the sheriff had come up with the idea of taking over guardianship. If the word jeopardy was outside of his vocabulary, he certainly wasn’t throwing around words like jurisdiction and authority.
She mentally checked off the people she’d met in the past few days: Regina, Jake, Vic and Sheriff Koepke. For such a small town, Frozen Oaks sure had its fair share of shady characters. Last week she’d been fully prepared to leave the boys with their grandfather and return home immediately. After spending several days in this peculiar town, she’d grown reticent. Truth be told, she’d feel no better about leaving the boys and returning home if Emil walked through the door that instant. She certainly wasn’t handing them over to Vic Skaar and his saloon-frequenting sheriff.
Sitting here stewing about her predicament solved nothing. “Who wants to go on an adventure?” Lily asked.
Her question was met with obvious enthusiasm.
She tucked the bills into her reticule. She didn’t plan on keeping them, but she couldn’t exactly abandon that amount of money on the dining room table either. Once outside, Lily directed them toward the red-and-blue pole of the barbershop. As she’d noted the day before, the windows were shuttered. The whitewashed storefront needed a fresh coat of paint, but Emil was probably waiting for better weather.
“What’s this place?” Sam asked, unwrapping a peppermint.
“Your grandfather’s shop. He’s a barber. Did you know that? Apparently he lives upstairs.”
“My dad said he was a vagabond who couldn’t stay in one place if his shoes were nailed to the floor.” Sam finished off the candy with a decisive crunch. “Can we go inside? I mean, I’d like to see where we’re going to live.”
“The door is probably locked.” Melancholy stirred in her heart. Of course Sam and Peter were interested in seeing their new home. But was this their home? From the moment they’d stepped into Frozen Oaks, nothing had been certain. “I suppose there’s no harm in looking.”
A narrow space between the buildings held a staircase leading up to the second level. Boot prints showed in the fresh layer of snow. They overlapped each other, as though a man had come and gone from the apartment.
Emil has gotten tangled in some trouble.
All she had were rumors and gossip. She knew well enough the lack of truth they contained. She was poor orphan Lily after all.
“Hold the railing. The steps might be slippery.”
They traversed the narrow stairs and crowded onto the landing. She shook off her apprehension. Probably someone had come to check on Emil when he didn’t open his shop. She touched the handle and the door swung open.
Before she could stop them, the siblings rushed inside.
Lily chased after them. “Wipe your feet. Don’t track snow.”
The person who’d been here before them had not been as thoughtful. Footprints tracked across the wood floors. Crouching, she swiped at the marks. The melted snow had dried, leaving only dirt behind.
The space was neat and tidy, though sparsely furnished. The woodpile was well stocked, and Emil’s belongings were scattered about. There was a pipe and a tin of tobacco along with a stack of newspapers. Though clearly occupied, the space was oddly impersonal. The rooms might have belonged to anyone, save for the feather Christmas tree sheltering a stack of gifts propped on a table in the corner.
The walls of her room at the boardinghouse were covered in drawings and postcards. The windows had been decorated with curtains she’d sewed. Even her floors were covered in hand-knotted rag rugs. While she recognized through her experience at the rooming house that men were less likely to personalize a space with their possessions, Emil’s home felt cold and detached. There was certainly nothing warm and welcoming for the children.
Well, almost nothing.
The feather tree was the only touch of homey decorating, which was even odder still considering how early it was in the season. She’d never known anyone who put the tree out before December. After crossing the distance, she rummaged through the brown-paper-wrapped packages.