The sheriff straightened. “Hello, Fred. No, I’m just getting acquainted with Mr. Walker here.”
Fred Humphries gave Riley a smile. “Well, he’s a good worker, at least so far. And he seems to know his way around horses, too.”
Uncomfortable with standing there while he was being talked about, Riley cleared his throat. “I think that’s my cue to get back to work.” He nodded to both men and headed toward the hay stall once more.
Riley jabbed the pitchfork into the hay with a little more force than was necessary. Did every newcomer to town come under such scrutiny or was there something about him and the kids that had brought them to Sheriff Gleason’s notice?
Now that he had come to the sheriff’s notice, though, he’d need to be more careful than ever. Not that he’d done anything illegal, but getting certain matters untangled if they came to light could prove tricky.
It seemed the sooner he and the kids left Turnabout, the better.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Riley exited the hotel with Noah and Pru, feeling unsettled. For one thing, he hadn’t had the chance to saddle up River and go for a ride as he’d hoped. Mr. Humphries had asked for his help repairing one of the stall gates and he’d felt obliged to agree. By the time that was done he’d had to get back to the hotel and check on the kids. Riley didn’t like to leave them alone for more than a couple hours at a time. But they’d be boarding the train again in a few days, and he had hoped to get a lot of riding in while they were here.
The other reason for his unsettled mood was that he found himself wondering for the hundredth time why he was going through with this. He’d let down his guard when Miss Vickers looked at him with such entreaty in her gaze, thinking that one meal with her and her employer couldn’t hurt anything.
But it was better to remember that he couldn’t afford to have someone look too deeply into their situation, than to keep pondering over the way he felt when he was with her.
It was probably just as well that this was only a temporary stop along their unending journey.
Noah all but skipped along the sidewalk, seeming hardly able to contain his excitement. “I like Miss Vickers. She’s really nice.”
Pru cut her uncle a quizzical look. “Uncle Riley must think so, too, if he’s letting us go to her house.”
Riley mentally winced that his distrust of everyone they met was rubbing off on the kids. “It’s only for supper,” he said, feeling strangely defensive. “Besides, she helped Noah at the livery yesterday, so it would have been impolite to turn down her invitation.”
“It doesn’t matter why we’re going, Pru,” Noah said. “This is gonna be a whole lot better than eating in our room or in the hotel restaurant.”
“Just don’t get used to it,” Riley warned. “Like I said, this is a one-time thing.” He felt a small pang of regret as he said that. Which was odd. How had the woman, after only two brief encounters, gotten under his skin this way?
As they approached the house Miss Vickers had directed him to, Riley studied it with an objective eye. It was a modest white, one-story structure with a high roof, a porch in front that stretched the entire width, and a large swing hanging on one end. Turning onto the front walk, he realized this would be the first time he and the kids would enter a family home since they’d left Pru and Noah’s own home in Long Straw, Wyoming.
Riley ushered them up the porch steps, making certain to rein in some of Noah’s exuberance. Knocking at the front door, he steeled himself. They would visit, share the meal and that would be that. In three or four days they’d board the train and resume their journey.
Miss Vickers opened the door almost immediately and smiled warmly. “Welcome. Please come in.”
“Good evening.” He nodded to her as they entered.
She returned his greeting, then smiled down at the children. “Hello, Noah, Pru. It’s so nice to see you again.”
Pru nodded shyly, while Noah looked around with eager curiosity. She led them into the parlor, where an older woman with faded blond hair sat waiting for them, commanding the room as if she sat on a throne rather than a wheelchair.
Miss Vickers quickly made the introductions. Then she waved to the sofa. “Please, sit down. We have a few minutes before supper is ready.”
Riley waited until she herself had taken a seat near her employer before ushering the kids to the sofa.
Mrs. Flanagan leaned back, with the air of a queen granting an audience. “Well now, Cassie Lynn tells me you all just arrived in town yesterday. What brings you to Turnabout?”
Riley repeated the answer he’d given the sheriff.
Their hostess frowned. “So you’re not planning to be here very long.”
“No, ma’am, not more than a few days.” Was it his imagination or was there a shadow of disappointment in Miss Vickers’s expression? If so, she covered it quickly.
Still, the thought that she might wish he would stay longer bolstered his spirits in a way that made no sense at all.
It was a good thing this would be a one-time visit and that they would be leaving town in a few days’ time. It appeared the kids weren’t the only ones who felt the pull of this taste of family home warmth.
Which was strange, because even before he’d had to go on the run with the kids, he’d led a less-than-settled life.
Well, there was no way he’d let one look from a young lady, no matter how winsome, further complicate his life.
Which meant he should do whatever he could, short of being impolite, to speed up this little outing.
He leaned forward looking for an opening to move things along.
Cassie Lynn felt a stab of disappointment at Mr. Walker’s announcement of his intent to leave Turnabout soon. Because he’d taken a job at the livery, she’d just assumed his move here was more or less permanent. Wishful thinking on her part, it seemed.
She hadn’t realized until now just how much she’d been hoping Mr. Walker would be the man who would become her marriage partner. Then again, perhaps it was better this way. She’d already decided it would be best to marry someone she had no emotional ties to.
It was a setback, but not a major one. She’d just have to turn her attention to finding another candidate for her husband.
“Why are you in that wheelchair?”
Noah’s artless question pulled Cassie Lynn back to the present.
“Noah!” Mr. Walker’s sharply uttered reprimand was met with a confused look from the boy.
But Mrs. Flanagan flapped her hand at the boy’s uncle. “Let him be.” Then she turned to Noah. “Because I injured my leg, that’s why.”
He stood and moved closer. “Does it still hurt?”
The widow responded as if it had been a perfectly sensible question. “It aches a bit.”
He tilted his head to study the wheels. “Can you get around in that thing yourself or does someone have to push you?”
She drew herself up. “I’ll have you know, young man, that I manage quite well on my own.”
Cassie Lynn hid a smile as she watched the exchange. Noah didn’t seem at all put off by Mrs. Flanagan’s manner. And for her part, the widow seemed to actually be enjoying the give-and-take.
A moment later Cassie Lynn noticed Pru,