Bill thumbed toward the back of the house. “Chased us out of her kitchen.”
Dillen headed through the dining room and found Alice drying the last of the dishes.
“Need a hand?” he asked.
She startled and then smiled, returning the plates to the cupboards. “All finished.”
He approached, seeming unable to keep his distance from this woman. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I’d imagine there are many things you don’t know about me.” She reached behind her back and untied her apron, ducking out of the collar and setting it aside before brushing off her skirts.
“I’ve never seen you in a dress like that before,” he said.
“It’s new.”
He frowned. Of course it was. Likely she bought it, perhaps an entire wardrobe for her little rustic adventure.
Alice’s brow knit as if she recognized the misstep. “Do you like it?” She lifted the skirts and turned this way and that. Here was the Alice he recalled. Charming, bubbly and full of unreasonable optimism where he was concerned. She’d overestimated everything about him, especially his prospects.
“Yes,” he said truthfully, stepping in, looping an arm behind her back even as he told himself to leave her be.
She rested her hands on his chest and smiled up at him. For just a moment he pretended that she was his, that those boys were their children and she was a mother instead of a lady of means.
“Thank you for taking such good care of them,” he whispered.
“You’re welcome.” Her hand lifted and stroked the rough stubble at his jaw. She cast him a winning smile. “I saw your performance. You are a trick rider!”
He stiffened. “How?”
She motioned toward the window above the sink. The world beyond was now dark, but he realized she would have a fine view of the riding ring from here. The fact that she’d seen his shenanigans did not please him.
He did not share her delight. Rather he felt a wash of shame. A man might have to dig ditches for a living or dress like a clown to put food on the table, but it didn’t make him proud.
Dillen released Alice and stepped away. “I did a stint with the circus.”
“Really?” She still seemed fascinated, but her smile now looked brittle.
“Yeah.” He rubbed his neck. “Want to...” He motioned his head toward the living room.
“Oh, yes.”
For the next hour, Dillen played and Alice sang. Bill even sang a tune or two and the boys joined in on anything they knew. It was a magical evening. But afterward Dillen forced himself to remember that despite her wardrobe change, Alice was still a lady and he was still a saddle tramp.
Alice rose from her chair and eyed the boys, who correctly judged her intent and groaned in unison.
“Bedtime,” she said. The house had running water in the kitchen, but the privy was out back and she saw no chamber pots under the beds. “Privy first,” she said, gathering the boys’ coats.
“I want Uncle Dillen to take us,” said Cody.
He absorbed this news with a tiny snort. Then he laid aside his fiddle and drew on his coat. He headed out the door with a lantern, Cody over one shoulder and Colin over the other. Both boys were shrieking as they vanished into the curtain of snow.
Alice drew her shawl about her and realized the snow was coming down hard now. Dillen had to plow his way across the yard. When they reappeared, she took her turn and when she reached the relative warmth of the kitchen she shook the snow from her skirts.
Hands and faces were washed in the large sink using the hot water from the reserve on the stove. Dillen banked the coals and Alice filled the water tank so there would be hot water in the morning.
Once back in the living room, Alice spoke to the boys.
“Say good-night to Mr. Roberts and thank him for his stories.”
They did, in chorus.
“Can I help you tuck them in?” asked Dillen.
She could not keep from smiling as she nodded her consent. Her throat chose that moment to constrict with emotion as she realized that he was beginning to act like a father.
They headed up the main stairs together. Bill sat closest to the fire, packing tobacco into his pipe.
“You mind?” he asked, lifting the pipe.
Alice shook her head. It wasn’t her house after all, but she appreciated the request.
Dillen gave the boys a piggyback up the stairs, and as a result they were too excited to lie down. They bounced on the beds before she finally got them settled.
At last, she had them kneeling beside their beds to say their prayers. Tonight they both asked God to bless not only their parents, Alice and Uncle Dillen, but also Mr. Roberts and Dasher. Alice saw Dillen drop his chin to his chest. She also heard him repeat amen along with the boys. They lifted their heads and looked to Dillen. He stood in silence for a moment and then gave a curt nod of approval. Alice released a breath.
“Colin, Cody, you settle down, ’cause I’m going to tell you how I met Alice.”
The promise worked like magic. Both boys nestled back into the feather pillows at the promise of a story and drew the covers up to their chins.
He told how their mother used to be a companion for an old woman who was ill and so she called the doctor a lot. She had met Alice, the doctor’s assistant. He related how they became friends. He explained the way Alice used to come to the house. She had cared for their grandmother when she’d gotten sick.
“We thought Alice was a nurse. We didn’t know she was a princess in disguise and that her grandfather was a king who owned half the railroad that carried them out there.”
Colin loved trains and removed his thumb from his mouth to sigh. “Gosh.”
“When your mother got married to your father, Alice was her maid of honor. I was the best man, so we danced at the wedding.” He glanced to Alice. “Remember?”
As if she could ever forget. It was the first time he’d ever held her in his arms. There had been many a night when she’d thought of that dance and the start of their relationship when the world was nothing but possibilities. Her mother had married a professional man, so Alice saw no obstacles between Dillen and her. After all, Dillen was the son of a banker with an acceptance to attend a university. She smiled at the memory. “You looked very dashing.”
“And Alice was as pretty as a rose,” he said to the boys. “Later, when you were born, Cody, Alice held you at the baptism. She and I are your godparents.”
“What about me?” asked Colin.
“Well, that was two years later.”
Two years, and everything had changed for Dillen and Sylvie. Their father had abandoned them under the cloud of scandal.
Dillen went on. “But yes, we stood up in that church for you, too.”
“And promised,” said Alice, “to see you both raised properly.”
Dillen gave her a long look and then nodded. “Yep. We sure did.”
“And that is what we shall do,” she whispered, stroking a hand over Colin’s feathery hair. His eyelids drooped now, but Cody struggled against sleep.
Dillen looked troubled again.