“I don’t think so.”
“I do. I noticed he avoided looking at you during the meeting.”
“That only proves he feels nothing for me.”
Holly smiled coyly. “Except that he sneaked a glimpse when he thought no one was looking.”
Charlotte felt the heat in her cheeks. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. He was probably looking at...at...” She searched her mind for who was seated near her. “Amelia.”
Holly laughed. “I don’t think he could even see her, nor would he care. I’m sure he was looking at you.”
Charlotte had to cut this off at once. She pressed her hands to her ears. “Please stop. Wyatt Reed would never marry me or any other woman. He’s a hired tracker, a loner. He has no heart for anyone but himself.”
“He’s honorable enough to agree to leave the children with families here.”
“H-he’s obstinate. And loves money.”
“We all need money to survive.”
Charlotte knew that, but Wyatt was different. He would take children from the chance to find good homes just for money. But she couldn’t tell Holly what he’d said to her, not when Holly and Mason loved Liam so. So she settled for complete denial. “It’s a ridiculous thought.”
“Perhaps. But he’d be a lot nicer to kiss than Elmer Droll.”
Charlotte couldn’t argue with that.
“Think about it overnight, and we’ll talk again in the morning. I think I can spare an hour early. We did say eight o’clock?”
Charlotte’s eyes shot open. “Tomorrow morning? Oh, dear, with everything that happened, I forgot about cleaning out Charles’s things.” She bit her lip. “I—I don’t know. Maybe now isn’t such a good time. I should, well, think on other things.”
They both knew what those “other things” were.
Oddly enough, Holly looked relieved. “You will at least need to crate up Charles’s things before you bring another man into the house.”
Another man. Such as Wyatt Reed. Waves of heat rolled through Charlotte as she imagined him sitting at the trestle table or carrying in water for her or sleeping beside—
She shook herself. “We’ll deal with that if it happens.”
“When it happens,” Holly stated with dead certainty, as if finding a husband in less than three full days happened all the time.
“When what happens?” The schoolhouse door banged open, and Sheriff Mason Wright entered. “What’s going on here?”
Holly rose, her face flushed with pleasure. “Nothing important. Is Liam still playing with the boys?”
He nodded and glanced at Charlotte, who suddenly felt out of place. Holly positively glowed as she glided over to greet him. His gaze riveted on Holly’s face, shutting out everything else. He took her hands so tenderly that it made Charlotte’s heart ache.
This was a private moment, one Charlotte couldn’t bear to witness. She slipped silently past them and out the door. Before fetching Sasha, she took a breath to calm herself. Mason and Holly were truly in love, something she would never have.
* * *
The ride wasn’t clearing Wyatt’s head. Moreover, everyone in town glared at him as if he was a murderer. He was used to being disliked by civilians, but for the most part the lawmen tolerated him. Based on the encounter with Sheriff Wright in the stable, this one wanted him out of town now, too.
He kept his gaze fixed forward and put blinders on his peripheral vision. Some peculiar job this was. Usually he had to use all his senses to track down the fugitive and save his own hide. Now here he was trying to block out the voices and the people around him.
He headed to the outlying farms and ranches west of town, those in the direction of Greenville. Between the nagging in his gut and the sheriff’s obvious dislike of Baxter, he wanted to see if anyone else here had dealings with the man. If he found anything against Baxter, he might reconsider taking the case to the judge.
He would not reconsider the sheriff’s not-so-veiled suggestion. Wyatt was not a marrying man. Period.
The first two farms yielded nothing, but the Hayes ranch was a different story.
The tall rancher eyed him solemnly, his strong jaw taut. “We don’t do business with men like Baxter.”
Though Wyatt pressed, Colton Hayes refused to elaborate.
What sort of business? As near as Wyatt could tell, Baxter made his money in trade. He shipped supplies out to the mines in Colorado and the big farms in his area. His storefront was small but well stocked. At first glance, Greenville seemed an odd place to plant such a business, but it was the last large town on the rail line. Baxter must be using that to his advantage. Maybe he overcharged. That would explain the rancher’s disdain.
Baxter’s orphanage also seemed to pass muster. From what Wyatt heard, it handled cases of children in Greenville and the surrounding area who became orphans, and also took in almost all the orphans the Orphan Salvation Society brought through that didn’t find homes. Greenville’s mayor spoke glowingly of it and of Baxter. “A first-rate philanthropist.” “Above reproach.” Over and over he heard the same words. Everything had checked out, or he wouldn’t have taken the job.
When Wyatt had stopped by the orphanage, it was empty. Baxter had taken considerable pride in his ability to place the children. That hadn’t struck Wyatt as odd at the time, but now he wondered how Baxter succeeded when the orphan society couldn’t.
He shook his head. None of this explained Greenville’s determination to get the orphans and Evans Grove’s equal insistence on keeping them.
Frustrated, he rode Dusty hard on the return. The steed appreciated the gallop, but Wyatt hadn’t gotten any answers. He had pieces to a puzzle, but none of them fit together. Mayor Evans standing oh so confident next to that distinguished banker fellow, sure she’d find a way to thwart him. The sheriff out-and-out suggesting he hightail it back to Greenville and give up a lucrative job. Charlotte Miller.
His heart caught in his throat. He had no idea the orphan society would take away Sasha. It wasn’t fair. Making her marry to keep her daughter? Ridiculous. The whole thing made him so angry that he wanted to walk into that town and shake some sense into those orphan society rule makers. And that was the trouble. He couldn’t get involved. He couldn’t let emotion get hold of him, or he would ruin yet more lives.
He unclenched his fist and flexed his hand. He’d been holding the reins too tightly. That was the trouble with emotion. It hurt. And Wyatt couldn’t risk hurting any more women and children.
The faces in the fires still haunted his dreams. Atlanta burning. The march to the sea. The echoes of cannon and crackle of flames. His hand on the torch, anger seething until it overflowed. Houses burning. Screams. Cries for mercy.
He drew in a rattling breath. Wyatt Reed couldn’t be trusted around women and children. Ever.
* * *
Marry Wyatt Reed?
The thought niggled at Charlotte’s mind as she walked Sasha home. The man kept his emotions in check, much like Charles. The only hint of feeling came when he held Sasha, but did he care enough for the little girl to tie himself to a woman he didn’t know? It was a preposterous idea. She couldn’t believe Holly had suggested it. Worse, her friend insisted Wyatt had looked at her in a special way, the same way Mason looked at Holly.
Impossible.
She’d never seen it.
Yet