Her Guardian Groom

Paid to accompany two orphaned siblings to their grandfather in Nebraska, Lily Winter is dismayed to discover the old man has gone missing. And when the children’s inheritance makes them a target, buying protection is Lily’s only option. Until a handsome gun-for-hire suggests another solution: marriage.

Undercover US Marshal Jake Elder can’t reveal his true identity without blowing his mission. Nor can he leave the town’s pretty new arrival unguarded. But while uncovering a plot against her charges is difficult and risky, falling for Lily is all too easy. Especially once their marriage in name only gives Jake a glimpse of how wonderful Christmas—and their future as a family—could be.

“Don’t trust anyone, Miss Winter.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

Jake glanced away from the curiosity in her shrewd gaze. While he admired the wholesome honesty in her striking blue eyes, this was no place for a tenderfoot.

“Why warn me away if I can’t trust you? Isn’t that a bit contradictory?”

“If you stay in this town, you’re in danger. You were hired to keep those children safe. If something were to happen to them, could you live with yourself?”

She blinked rapidly. “No.”

“Then, trust your gut, Lily Winter.”

“Trust my gut, but not you.”

He let out a gusty sigh. She had the kind of pure innocence about her that made a man think about a different way of life. The unexpected thought shook him to the core, and he forced the weakness aside. Strong feelings were a distraction. He was a man who gave 100 percent to the job, and there wasn’t anything left over for anyone else. That sort of man was no good for raising a family.

“I’m not the man for you, Miss Lily. Never forget that.”

SHERRI SHACKELFORD is an award-winning author of inspirational books featuring ordinary people discovering extraordinary love. A reformed pessimist, Sherri has a passion for storytelling. Her books are fast-paced and heartfelt with a generous dose of humor. She loves to hear from readers at sherri@sherrishackelford.com. Visit her website at sherrishackelford.com.

A Family for the Holidays

Sherri Shackelford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And ye shall know the truth,

and the truth shall make you free.

—John 8:32

To Barb. I miss you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Frozen Oaks, Nebraska, 1885

Lily Winter’s gaze flicked over the gunfighter and rapidly skittered away. Her brief glimpse of his unyielding profile sent a chill snaking down her spine.

The afternoon stagecoach had long since banked the horizon, dissolving into a bleak winter haze. Fat snowflakes drifted from the sky and swirled around her feet. Chafing her hands together, she blew a puff of warm air over her aching fingers. Her two young charges, Sam and Peter, huddled against her on the wooden bench outside the livery. The rest of the stagecoach passengers had either remained on the stage after the speedy change of horses or hastily escaped the biting wind. Only the three of them remained unclaimed.

The sharp air brought tears to her eyes, blurring her vision, and she blinked rapidly. Obviously there’d been a misunderstanding about their arrival. No need for panic.

Her vantage point allowed an unimpeded view of Main Street, and hearty shoppers darted in and out of storefronts. Their progress offered tantalizing glimpses of light and the promise of warmth. The shelter of the hotel restaurant and a cozy drink beckoned—save for one slight impediment.

The gunfighter had taken up residence on the boardwalk before the restaurant.

As though deliberately taunting her, he’d kicked back in a sturdy wooden chair, his legs outstretched, one heel propped on the upper railing, his ankles loosely crossed. His hat sat low on his forehead, shading his eyes.

Peter tilted his head and caught a snowflake on his eyelashes. “Can we have a snowball fight later?”

“We’ll see,” Lily replied, her attention distracted. “Maybe later.”

“Hmph.” Peter crossed his arms. “Maybe always means no.”

“Maybe means maybe.”

She pressed one hand against her roiling stomach. The noisy inn where they’d stayed the previous evening had not been conducive to sleep, and the constant pitch of the stagecoach had sent her breakfast churning. Since she was a child, moving conveyances had made her nauseous.

“Are you warm enough?” she asked Peter, adjusting his wool cap over his ears.

“My nose is chilly.”

Offering what little shelter she could against the cold, she wrapped her arm around the boy and hugged him closer.

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Has something bad happened to our grandpa?”

“He’s late,” Lily said. “There’s nothing unusual about being late.”

At eleven years old, Sam had already experienced too much tragedy for such a youngster. While on a missionary trip to Africa, the siblings had lost their parents to a cholera epidemic. Upon their return to St. Joseph, Missouri, a judge was assigned as their temporary guardian. Their lone remaining relative, a paternal grandfather, was eventually discovered living in Frozen Oaks, Nebraska.

Fortunately for the pair, their parents had been wealthy. Children without ways and means were left to their own devices. A grim fate. Money didn’t make the grieving any easier, but the alternative was far worse.

Sam leaned into her warmth. “I’m glad you stayed. The lady who chaperoned us on the ship left us as soon as we docked.”

Lily started. “That’s unconscionable! I’m not leaving until I know for certain the two of you are safe and warm and curled up by the fire at your grandfather’s house.”

Though her role as chaperone was fleeting, Lily took her provisional responsibility seriously.

She’d answered an advertisement seeking a spinster to accompany the children on the last leg of their journey. At twenty-two, she figured she qualified. The judge had been skeptical, but she’d eventually persuaded him of her suitability. The salary for the trip was generous, and that money was the key to her future. She’d already put half the down payment on the boardinghouse that she wanted to purchase, and she desperately needed money for the other half.

Her chest tightened. Time was running short. If she didn’t apply the rest of the money soon, Mrs. Hollingsworth was liable to rescind her offer.

Peter gazed up at her with his enormous brown eyes. “Maybe that outlaw over there robbed grandpa’s stagecoach and left him for dead.”

Lily bolted upright. “He’s not an outlaw.”

At eight years old, Peter possessed a vivid imagination that was both enduring and worrisome. She’d reined in his grisly storytelling more than once during their lengthy travels from St. Joseph.

“There’s no reason to be scared,” she asserted, despite having reached a similar conclusion. “I’m sure a lot of men carry guns in this part of Nebraska.”

Sam snorted. “He’s an outlaw, all right. There’s a sign on the edge of town ordering everyone to check their guns with the sheriff. No exceptions. But he’s sitting there as bold as brass with a couple of six-shooters strapped to his hips. This whole town is probably filled with gunfighters. The outrider told me that folks in these parts don’t believe in law and order.”

Lily’s heartbeat picked up rhythm. There’d been a deep crease between the judge’s eyes when he’d reluctantly agreed to hire her as chaperone. With a sad shake of his head, he’d muttered something about fortune favoring the foolish.

“The outrider was trying to scare you.” She cleared her throat. “What sort of outlaw lives in a town called Frozen Oaks? Gunfighters live in places called Tombstone or Funeral Mountain. Only a milksop would settle in a place with such a ridiculous name.”

The gunfighter lifted his head and met her gaze. Her pulse thrummed.

“Perhaps he has special permission to carry a weapon. Maybe he’s been deputized or something.” She lowered her voice. “We shouldn’t gossip.” Just in case he had exceptional hearing. Better safe than murdered.

“Do you think he’ll shoot us?” Peter raised his voice in a hopeful lilt. “This place is more exciting than Africa. And colder, too.”

“He’s not going to shoot us.”

Gracious, that boy had a vivid imagination. A movement at the far edge of town caught her attention, and she spotted a wagon.

“That’s probably your grandfather now.”

The buckboard turned away, shredding the last ragged vestiges of her hope. Lily shifted in her seat, searching for a more comfortable position. They’d been forced to abandon the luxury of the train in Steele City some ten miles away. Ten miles on the stagecoach might as well have been a hundred. The boys had thought the bumpy ride great fun, but she was tumbled and aching from the journey.

In deference to her bruised backside, she stood and held out her hand. “Come along. There’s no use waiting in the cold.”

“You heard Miss Lily.” Sam rose and yanked on Peter’s collar. “Don’t just sit there. Let’s go.”

“Be nice to your brother,” Lily admonished gently. “You two are blessed to have each other.”

The siblings didn’t realize how fortunate they were. When she was barely fifteen she’d lost her mother and her older brother, Benjamin, to rheumatic fever. Her father, a man who normally relished life, had sunk into a deep melancholy from which he’d never fully recovered. The loss had crushed him. He and Benjamin had been two of a kind. Her brother had always been up for an adventure, just like his father before him.

It only seemed natural that her mother would dote on Benjamin, as well. They were all so alike—full of enthusiasm and always seeking another challenge, and yet so different from her. Once she’d even asked her parents if she was adopted. Her mother had only laughed.

“You two have each other,” Lily stressed. “Trust me, being all alone is far worse.”

As part of her father’s never-ending quest to escape his memories, they’d moved into the St. Joseph boardinghouse. She’d thought his grief had abated until he’d volunteered for the railroad munitions crew. He accepted the most dangerous assignments, and it soon became apparent that he desperately wanted to be reunited with his wife—and with Benjamin. Eventually he’d gotten his way. A reckless mistake had buried him beneath a mound of rubble.

Following his death, her need to own the boardinghouse had become an obsession. Until she had the deed in hand, Mrs. Hollingsworth, the current owner, could toss her out on a whim. Ownership of property was permanent and lasting. A safe and sensible investment in her future.

“I miss my parents,” Sam said. “But I’m glad you’re here, Miss Lily.”

“So am I.” Her gaze misted over. “The two of you have been extremely brave these past few months. Your parents would be very proud of you.”

“Do you really think so?” Sam hopped from foot to foot beside her. “Peter and I are supposed to grow up and follow in their footsteps. That’s what our mother always told us. We are meant to serve others in this life.”

“And so you shall. But I’m quite certain your parents meant for you to be children first. They’re at peace now, and they’d want the same for you.”

Her father was at peace, as well. Lily took comfort in knowing he’d been reunited with her mother and brother. She’d always sensed she was a poor substitute for the people he’d lost.

“Miss Lily,” Peter began. “Do you have a husband?”

“’Course she doesn’t.” Sam huffed. “Otherwise she’d be a missus.”

“I don’t have a husband or a beau,” Lily said lightly.

Over the years she’d occasionally engaged in light flirtations with gentlemen passing through the boardinghouse, but she’d never been tempted by anything more. She neither felt nor inspired fervent love, nor was she particularly interested in the experience. She simply wanted a safe place to call home each night. Nothing more, nothing less.

Her father had chosen an early grave rather than life without his wife and son. Even in death Benjamin had inspired more devotion than Lily. She’d survived the pain, but her heart had turned brittle and fragile. From that moment on, she’d protected her embattled emotions with militant fervor. She’d erected a stronghold around her heart and sealed the entrances.

There was no love without loss, there was no joy without sorrow, and there was no reward without sacrifice. She’d simply chosen to forgo the nonsense. Happy endings only existed in fairy tales, and hoping for something different was a sure path to misery.

She was a practical person who sought practical solutions. She’d certainly never known love to be the practical solution.

Taking a fortifying breath, she inhaled the chill air into her lungs. “We’re obviously not going to find your grandfather sitting out here in the cold.”

She tightened her grip on Peter’s mitten-clad fingers, and they marched across the street. Sam trailed behind them. They skirted past a wagon hitched with two enormous draft horses snorting vapor into the glacial air.

“Aw, shucks,” Peter said. “I was hoping we’d see a showdown.” His shoulders sagged, then perked up when he realized their path led them directly before the suspected gunfighter. He tugged her down to his eye level and spoke in her ear. “How many men do you think he’s killed?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. He’s not my concern. You are.” Lily was made of sterner stuff than this cowardly hesitation. She wasn’t letting some ruffian force her to sit in the cold. “Your grandfather probably lost track of time. Maybe he’s even waiting for us in the restaurant.”

Living in St. Joseph had made her soft. She was being ridiculous. Not even the most villainous outlaw threatened women and children in broad daylight.

Despite that bracing thought, her step faltered on the second riser leading to the raised boardwalk. She sucked in another restorative breath and squared her shoulders. Just to be safe, she tucked Peter behind her as she halted before the gun-toting man.

He didn’t rouse.

Lily cleared her throat. “Excuse me, sir. I need to p-pass.”

Hesitating, she opened and closed her mouth a few times like a voiceless marionette. With his head tipped forward, the gunfighter’s hat shaded his eyes. Had he fallen asleep? What if she startled him and he drew his gun on her?

The outlaw stirred.

She scrambled back and bumped into Peter.

With chilling deliberation one boot lowered. Her heart clattered against her ribs. The outlaw’s heel thumped against the boardwalk. As the second boot dropped, Lily muffled a yelp. She couldn’t see his eyes or gauge his intent. When the front two legs of the chair hit the ground, a hollow thud sounded.

Her temporary bravado deserted her. Leaning slightly to one side, she searched the street for a sign indicating the sheriff’s office. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? The sheriff’s office was a much more practical place to start.

The outlaw unfolded from his chair and rose to his full, dizzying height. Holding her ground, Lily swallowed hard. She tipped back her head and glimpsed his face. Her breath caught in her throat. There was nothing forgiving about this man.

“Wow!” Peter exclaimed. “You’re tall.”

“Shush,” Lily ordered. “It’s not polite to comment on someone’s appearance.”

Even if the observation was accurate. Especially if the observation was accurate.

The man crossed his arms over his chest and squinted down at her.

She held her ground. “Isn’t it a bit inhospitable for sitting outside?”

“I like the view.”

She glanced in the direction he’d been facing and noted the shuttered windows and chipped paint facade of a barbershop.

“Lovely.”

He brought to mind the outlaw from the dime novel she’d borrowed from Peter the previous evening when she couldn’t sleep. Except this gentleman was taller and more broadly built than the cowboy on the book cover. He was unshaven, with a shaggy mop of whiskers covering his chin. The coffee-colored hair hanging beneath his hat touched his shoulders. His eyes were dark, as well. Dilated against the overcast sky, his pupils nearly blotted out the rich, bronzed hue. Though his general build was pleasing, tall and lean, he had the look of a fur trapper who’d been too long without company in the wilderness.

Despite his unshorn appearance, his dark wool coat and canvas trousers were clean and well-kept. He certainly didn’t smell like the fur trapper who’d stayed overnight at the boardinghouse. She’d spent two days scrubbing the rank odor from the bedding. This gentleman had a crisp, masculine scent that hinted of leather, wool and something else. She inhaled deeply and caught the pungent snap of gunpowder.

The realization brought her up short. This wasn’t an ordinary chap.

“Well, um.” She searched for an innocuous comment. His implacable stance sent a frosty draft through her that had nothing to do with the winter wind. “Your town is quite pleasant.”

“It’s not my town.”

His expression was strangely taut, as though he was sizing her up. For a coffin. She quickly squashed the thought. Her imagination was running away with her. After three days of nonstop travel, two by train and one by stage, an aching fatigue gripped her. All of the dime novels and newspaper serials she’d read along with the siblings’ ghoulish yarns had infected her thoughts.

Peter snuck a peek around her hip and she urged him back once more. The gunfighter raised his eyebrows. His continued silence left her unnerved.

Peter muttered something. Lily gave his hand a warning squeeze. The boy twisted from her restraint.

“Are you an outlaw, mister?” he demanded. “Is your face on one of them wanted posters?”

“Peter!” Lily splayed her arms. The slice of toast she’d managed to choke down that morning lurched in her stomach. “Children have such vivid imaginations.”

The outlaw squinted. “What’s your business here, miss?”

“My b-business?”

What was wrong with her? Her lips weren’t working properly in the cold.

“Why are you in Frozen Oaks?”

The horizon wavered, and stars twinkled around the edges of her vision. She swayed on her feet. The gunfighter took her elbow and she recoiled from his touch. Something flickered in his expression. A hint of regret that gave her pause.

Sam tugged on her sleeve. “You don’t look so good, Miss Lily.”

“He’s right,” Peter solemnly agreed. “You’re as white as chalk.”

The gunfighter’s face swam before her, and her ears buzzed.

“I’m fine,” Lily managed weakly. Her eyelids were leaded and she struggled to keep them open. “Let’s go inside.”

She urged the children ahead of her and reached for the door. If she could just make it inside the warmth of the restaurant, everything would be all right.

Her hand collided with the outlaw’s chest instead of the handle.

He caught her fingers in his warm grasp. Tipping back her head, she studied his face. His eyes reflected concern and a tinge of compassion. In an instant she softened toward him. He didn’t appear frightening at all. He seemed just like any other mortal man. Albeit a taller-than-average mortal man. The hazy afternoon threw his austere features into sharp relief, and an indefinable emotion tugged at her chest.

The next instant her thoughts scattered. Her heartbeat grew sluggish and each step tugged at her feet as though she was wading in molasses. Why hadn’t she eaten more breakfast that morning?

“I don’t feel very well.”

She mustn’t leave the children. As panic chased her into the darkness, the outlaw’s strong arms reached for her.

“No, no, no,” the outlaw muttered. “Please don’t faint on me, lady.”

Blackness descended and she dissolved into paralyzing ether.

That judge had been wrong. Fortune did not favor the foolish.

* * *

In an instant the woman’s eyes tipped back and she crumpled. Surging forward, Jake Elder caught her slight frame against his chest. The brim of her stiff bonnet caught on his shoulder and flipped off. The strings snagged around her collar. He adjusted her in his arms and tucked her head into the crook of his neck. The scent of lilacs teased his nostrils.

The two boys stared up at him with similar wide brown eyes that marked them as brothers. Since they were bundled head to toe in woolens, he had difficulty gauging their ages. Judging by their conflicting expressions, the taller one was old enough to be terrified by the sudden turn of events, and his little brother was young enough to be enthralled.

Thankful the hostile weather had kept most folks inside, Jake frantically searched the deserted street. He’d rather be rounding up murderous outlaws than this bunch. Killers were predictable. They didn’t faint at the least provocation.

Was he really that menacing?

The younger boy blinked. “I’m Peter and this is Sam. What’s wrong with Miss Lily?”

“Miss Lily fainted.” Her name rolled off Jake’s tongue. The floral moniker suited her. As he adjusted her in his arms, his chin brushed against her silky blond hair. “Sometimes ladies faint.”

“It’s true.” Sam nodded sagely. “In St. Joseph, our mom had a whole couch just for fainting. She kept it in the parlor.”

Which was probably a better explanation than anything an adult might concoct.

“Exactly.”

“You never answered Peter’s question,” the older boy spoke. “Are you an outlaw?”

“That depends on what you consider an outlaw.”

Peter cupped his hand over his brother’s ear and whispered loudly, “I think that means he’s an outlaw.”

Jake rolled his eyes.

He’d done his job well. Everyone in town thought he was a gun for hire, and he’d never corrected the assumption. Gazing into the troubled faces of these two young boys, he loathed his deception.

Except this was not the time to dwell on the subject. “Let’s get Miss Lily out of the cold.”

The boys were wary, but with no other choice, they reluctantly agreed.

Avoiding the restaurant entrance, Jake made his way toward the hotel lobby. The fewer people who saw them together the better. The desk clerk rarely left the back room unless she was summoned by the bell.

Anonymity was key in his profession.

As a marshal for the United States government, he’d traced a shipment of faulty guns sold to the Cherokee back to Frozen Oaks. He had a hunch, but no proof. The man he suspected, Vic Skaar, never sullied his own hands. Vic hired others, rarely using the same outlaw twice, which made his illegal activities difficult to track. For the past eight weeks Jake had cultivated his reputation as a hired gun.

Holding an unconscious woman while being trailed by two youngsters was bad for his false reputation.

He carried Lily across the foyer and into a small parlor. As he rested her on a mustard-colored damask settee, her eyelids fluttered.

The two boys hovered over her, and a band of guilt tightened around his chest. Admitting his true identity risked all their lives, which meant there was little he could say to put them at ease. In order to be a good guy, he had to play a bad guy.

“Is Miss Lily your sister?” Jake asked the older boy.

“She’s our chaperone. Miss Lily Winter.”

“I see.”

He should have realized immediately she wasn’t related. She was too young to be their mother and her coloring was far lighter than the brothers’ dark hair and eyes.

“She traveled with us from St. Joseph,” Peter said. “To keep us safe.”

They should have sent a fourth person along to keep Lily safe. Jake brushed a wisp of blond hair from her pale forehead. The wool collar of her coat had bunched beneath her chin and he released the top button. The thread was darker, indicating a recent mending. The new porcelain button with its painted yellow daisy was a dash of color and extravagance that didn’t match her drab wool coat.

Much like the whimsical fastening, Lily didn’t belong among these plain surroundings either.

To begin with, she was tiny. The older boy, Sam, nearly topped her. Her clothing was simple and purposeful, which might have dulled another woman. On Lily, the unadorned style perfectly showcased her elegant features. Her heart-shaped face held enormous blue eyes and a mouth in the shape of a bow. Her flaxen hair was shot through with lighter and darker strands, creating a cascade of molten color. In a town where the men outnumbered the women five to one, Lily stood out like the first flower of spring.

His gut twisted. Lilies tended to get trampled underfoot around here.

Peter sniffled, yanking Jake back to his current dilemma.

Jake placed a comforting hand on the child’s shoulder. “Has Miss Lily been ill?”

Surely he hadn’t felled her with his threatening stance alone.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” The boy shrugged. “We’ve been traveling for days and days. I don’t think she slept very well last night. She read my book and lost my page.” A guilty flush spread across the boy’s cheeks. “Not that I minded or anything. She’s actually really nice and she let me buy a penny candy at all the train stops.” He snapped his fingers. “I think trains and stagecoaches make her sick. She holds her stomach and turns green. But when we’re not moving, she’s fine. This morning she gave most of her breakfast to Sam and she only ate the toast. But that might have been because Sam is always hungry.”

Sam chucked his brother on the shoulder. “She told me I could have it.”

The telling sacrifice brought back memories of his own mother, and Jake fought against the tide of the past. In a blink the years slipped away. He’d been little older than Sam when she’d been murdered by outlaws. In what began as an uneventful day, she’d dragged him along on her errands, and her last stop had been the bank. Bored, he’d leaned against the counter and passed the time spinning a penny on its narrow edge. His mother had promised a visit to the general store when they finished.

In a flash there’d been gunshots and shouting. His mother had shoved him behind her, but she hadn’t dropped to the ground like the other bank patrons. Her hesitation had cost her her life. The rest of that day was a blur. In an instant his future had been rewritten.

From that moment on, his path had been set. When outlaws roamed free, innocent bystanders were hurt. He couldn’t bring his mother back, but he could prevent other tragedies.

“It’s not your fault, Sam,” Jake said. “I had a brother who took sick every time he traveled by train.”

Lily groaned and he reached for her hand. Her pulse kicked robustly beneath his fingertips.

“She’ll feel better after she rests and has a good meal.”

Judging by the brothers’ explanations, Lily was cold, tired and hungry. Not to mention she’d encountered a gun-toting outlaw in her path. No wonder she’d fainted. Jake sat back on his heels and rested his hand on his gun belt.

Some days the deception weighed on him heavier than others. “What brings you three to Frozen Oaks?”

Sam and Peter exchanged a glance.

“Our grandpa Emil,” Sam said.

“Emil Tyler?”

“Yep. Our parents died in Africa. We’ve come to live with our grandpa.”

Jake’s misgivings increased tenfold. Emil was an irascible old man who ran a barbershop out of the front of his store, and a high-stakes poker game out of the back. A rumor had been floating around Frozen Oaks that Vic Skaar had recently lost deep to Emil. If Vic had lost money, there was one surefire way to erase his debt that didn’t bode well for the boys. While Jake didn’t peg Vic as a murderer, he wasn’t above hiring someone else.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Except Grandpa didn’t meet us at the livery like he was supposed to.”

A sharp sense of unease pricked Jake. Emil was missing and Miss Winter was fluttering about like a helpless dove in a nest of grackles. “How far have you traveled?”

“From St. Joseph. Two days by train. The trip was only supposed to take one day, but there was a problem with the engine. Maybe that’s why Grandpa Emil isn’t here.”

“Maybe,” Jake said.

He had a bad feeling Emil had been detained by something far more ominous than a change in the train schedule.

Chapter Two

Jake carefully considered his options. He hadn’t paid much heed to Emil’s recent desertion from Frozen Oaks. Given the current circumstances, the time had come to rectify his oversight.

As he calculated his odds of escaping the room unseen, Lily stirred. Her eyes drifted open. Her forehead creased and she glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on his face and he noted the exact moment when she recognized him.

She surged upright and reached for Sam and Peter. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Peter said. “Like this.”

He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, let his jaw go slack and flapped his arms weakly.

“All right, that’s enough.” A wash of color suffused her pale cheeks. Lily grasped Sam’s and Peter’s face in turn, then patted them up and down. “Are you both okay?”

Jake backed toward the door. “You shouldn’t stand up just yet.”

Her wary gaze swept over him. “Thank you for assisting me. I’ve never fainted before. I don’t know what came over me. You mustn’t put yourself out any longer on my account.”

As her words tumbled over each other, she discretely reached for her reticule and squeezed the bag. No doubt checking to see if he’d pickpocketed her traveling money.

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and silently willed his forbearance. In that moment he missed being a plain old US marshal. He missed the time when ladies had looked upon him with admiration instead of wariness and distrust.

He shook the unexpected thought from his head. What did he need of ladies’ attention? He’d long ago forsworn having his own family. The world was too dangerous for raising children. Especially out West. He did this job for a greater good than his own. In the beginning he’d felt the occasional twinges of loneliness. Given time, the hollow ache in his chest had eased. He was the rare man who accepted his fate. Some payments went beyond money.

Lily touched a hand to her forehead. “Perhaps you’re right. I need a few more minutes. The room is spinning a bit.”

“Try taking some deep breaths.” His fingers itched to ease the lock of hair from her forehead once more. The feel of the silky texture lingered on his memory. “That should help.”

He retrieved his gloves and yanked the leather over his hands. This job was his life. He’d come to accept his craving for danger as a flaw in his character that wouldn’t be fixed. His desire for the chase was an almost physical pain if not satisfied. The lure of risk and the thrill of capture were as necessary to him as the blood running in his veins. He was a man unfettered by obligations, and happy for it.

“Leave town,” he ordered. Lily was suspicious of him, and he’d exploit her fear to his advantage, even if it pained him. “There’s nothing for you in Frozen Oaks, Miss Winter.”

She gaped at his sudden announcement. “I beg your pardon.”

“You heard me.”

Sam’s eyes widened in betrayal at the harsh tone, and Jake glanced away. He was proud of the work he’d done over the years. He was proud of his career. Though he knew what he was doing was necessary, he wasn’t experiencing that same pride this instant. Terrifying women and children went against his nature.

He reached into his pocket and closed his fingers around the penny he’d been carrying all these years. Why carry the past around in his pocket?

He extended his hand toward Peter. “This is for the next time you’re near the penny candy.”

“Thanks.” Peter grinned, instantly mollified.

He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Share with your brother.”

Catching Lily’s gaze, he set his jaw. “Once you’ve had a decent rest and a good meal, you’d best leave this town, Miss Winter.”

His villainous skills were rusty. He sounded as though he was asking her to tea instead of giving her a piece of advice that may very well save her life. Though he knew what he was doing was for the best, he was trapped, in that moment, into playing the villain.

Her iridescent blue eyes grew puzzled. “Why must we leave?”

“Emil has gotten tangled in some trouble. You’d best keep the youngsters away from that.”

“What kind of trouble?” Lily searched the room as though Emil might spring out from behind the settee at any moment. “Why should I believe you? I don’t even know your name.”

“Jake.” He replaced his hat. “Frozen Oaks might be a ridiculous name for a town, but it’s still a dangerous place. Don’t trust anyone, Miss Winter.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

She gave him a side-eyed glance that had him squirming like a schoolboy brought to the carpet. He glanced away from the curiosity in her shrewd gaze. After years on the job he’d become adept at reading character, and Lily struck him as a woman of unshakable integrity. While he admired the wholesome honesty in her striking blue eyes, this was no place for a tenderfoot.

“Why warn me away if I can’t trust you?” She tucked the rebellious strand of hair behind a delicate, perfectly shaped ear. “Isn’t that a bit contradictory?”

The teasing warmth in her smile whittled away at his resolve. He had to warn her away because if he was worried about her safety, he couldn’t concentrate on his job. Because if he didn’t stop Vic from selling those guns, more men would die on either side of the Cherokee war. Because simply being near her was a dangerous distraction.

Instead he said, “If you stay in this town, you’re in danger. You were hired to keep those children safe. If something were to happen to them, could you live with yourself?”

She blinked rapidly. “No.”

“Then trust your gut, Lily Winter.”

“Trust my gut, but not you.”

He let out a gusty sigh. She had the kind of pure innocence about her that made a man think about a different way of life.

His breath hitched. The unexpected thought shook him to the core, and he forced the weakness aside. In order to do his job, he’d erected an icy wall around his emotion. Strong feelings were a distraction. He was a man who gave one hundred percent to the job, and there wasn’t anything left over for anyone else. That sort of man was no good for raising a family.

He wouldn’t be ensnared by the way her pale eyelashes fluttered against her soft cheeks.

“I’m not the man for you, Miss Winter. Never forget that.”

* * *

“Surely there’s someone in Frozen Oaks who can be trusted,” Lily demanded. “I doubt the entire town is inhabited by thieves and brigands.”

Nothing had gone as planned, and she was unexpectedly frustrated by the gunfighter’s insistence on frightening her. While she appreciated his profession required a good bit of intimidation for success, she wasn’t in the mood for subtle threats.

She’d created a neat and orderly world for herself. She followed a strict schedule. She never walked alone after dark. She never spent more money than she earned. This unexpected plunge into intrigue had set her on edge.

A humorless smile stretched across the gunfighter’s face, and he adjusted his hat over his forehead. “Be cautious with your challenges, Miss Winter. You never know who might pick up the gauntlet.”

“I didn’t realize I was challenging you.”

“A beautiful woman is always a challenge.”

She flushed beneath his appraising glance. “You’ve been away from civilization for too long, Mr. Jake. The description is too generous.”

“Look in the mirror, Miss Winter. And don’t forget to watch your back.”

The next instant he was gone. Lily gaped at the space he’d recently vacated.

“What’s a gauntlet?” Peter asked.

“A glove,” Lily said. “Throughout history, challenges have been issued by throwing down a glove. The challenge is accepted when the other person retrieves the glove.”

She pressed two fingers against her temple and shook her head. Without the distraction of the gunfighter, she took stock of her surroundings. The last thing she recalled, she’d been standing outside. Her unlikely rescuer had carried her into the hotel and an overdone parlor of some sort.

Every window, wall and chair had been dressed in varying autumnal shades of damask fabric, flocked wallpaper and dangling fringed tassels. Clearly the decorator was enamored with the extravagant theme. A little too enamored. The jumble of patterns was giving her a headache.

At least her charges didn’t seem any worse for wear. Peter gazed adoringly at the precious coin clutched in his palm.

Massaging her forehead, Lily vaguely recalled the gentle brush of the man’s fingers. Had she imagined the encounter? That couldn’t be right. Nothing about Jake had struck her as comforting, and yet that was exactly how she felt—comforted. The man had an oddly enthralling effect on her.

She straightened her spine and crossed her ankles. That sort of thinking wouldn’t do at all. From what she’d heard from scores of women passing through the boardinghouse, men were rarely the sensible choice. Men who carried guns in towns that outlawed weapons were the least sensible of all.

At least her head had cleared and she no longer felt as light-headed. The tantalizing aroma of roasted beef drifted from the restaurant, and her stomach rumbled.

Sam perched next to her on the settee. “I like him. He’s nice.”

Apprehension rippled through Lily. “How long was I unconscious?”

Her instincts warred with her common sense. Jake was clearly a gunfighter. He’d come close to threatening her into leaving. Perhaps threatening was too strong of a sentiment, but he’d been very stern in his warning.

“You weren’t passed out for long.” Peter splayed his hands. “A few minutes.”

She’d always trusted the instincts of children. She wasn’t so certain anymore. Although she couldn’t blame Peter entirely. She retained the same conflicted feelings about the man. The heat of the parlor slicked her skin with sweat and she removed her coat. Conflicted or not, she wasn’t lingering over the odd encounter. She couldn’t imagine the circumstances where they’d cross paths. They’d likely never see each other again.

She resolutely ignored her minuscule prick of disappointment.

Open double doors led to a larger, wood-paneled lobby. Voices sounded and Lily craned her neck to hear.

“Don’t put yourself out, Miss Regina,” the first voice spoke.

“I’ll handle this,” a second female voice said. “If there’s a strange woman in the hotel, Vic will want a full accounting.”

Lily stood too quickly and her legs wobbled. Her head spun and she braced one hand on the settee until the moment passed.

“It’s a hotel,” the first voice muttered. “They’re all strangers here.”

A pretty dark-haired woman with striking blue eyes, who was not much older than Lily, appeared in the doorway. Her extravagant burgundy day dress with its layers of satin ruffles marked her as the most likely suspect for decorator of the parlor.

“This room is for paying guests only,” the woman declared, twitching an olive-colored damask drapery into place. “If you’re not paying, you’ll have to go.”

Something about the woman was familiar, and Lily studied her closer. “Do I know you?”

“The name is Regina Dawson. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” The woman squinted. “Wait a second. What’s your name?”

“Lily Winter.”

Regina fiddled with the perfectly tied wine-colored bow beneath her chin. “I know that name. Are you from Chicago?”

“St. Joseph.”

“I rented a room at a boardinghouse in St. Joseph two years ago.” A deep crease appeared beneath the netting covering the woman’s forehead. “The nasty old biddy who ran the place was always spying on my comings and goings.”

“That would be Mrs. Hollingsworth.”

Dawning recognition spread across Regina’s face, highlighting her rouged cheeks. “Weren’t you the maid or something?”

“Not the maid, exactly,” Lily mumbled.

Though her memory of Regina was vague, the unexpected sight of someone she recognized temporarily weakened Lily’s knees. She latched on to the comfort of a familiar face as though it was a lifeline. While she was perfectly capable of looking out for herself and the children, knowing a local resident when visiting a strange town was always beneficial.

Regina laid a hand across her chest, highlighting a bodice that was cut a tad too generously for such an early hour. The sight sparked a long dormant memory. Mrs. Hollingsworth hadn’t approved of Regina. The landlady had even locked Regina out one evening when she’d returned after curfew. Lily had snuck her in the through the kitchen.

“Clearly you’re lost.” Regina swept across the room and grasped Lily’s forearms. “No woman with any sense of self-preservation travels to this part of the country on purpose.”

“It’s a long story,” Lily said with a sigh.

Even with their opposing temperaments, at least Lily had discovered someone who could assist in unraveling the mystery of Frozen Oaks.

“You look a fright, and your hair is mess. Did you sleep in that dress?” Regina clucked. “Let’s get you a warm drink and put some color into those cheeks. One mustn’t be caught looking like a member of the kitchen staff. The management is liable to put you to work.”

Instantly aware of her disheveled appearance, Lily smoothed the strings of her crushed bonnet between her thumb and forefinger.

Her head snapped up. The outlaw.

“Did you see a man around here earlier?” Lily asked, hoping her tone conveyed nonchalance.

She gazed at her forlorn little bonnet with its faded daisy trim. Not that she cared if the man found her appearance more suitable for the back stairs than the front parlor, but she couldn’t shake her inherent curiosity.

“Only Jake.” Regina shuddered delicately. “Best avoid him. As I recall, you’re too trusting by half.”

Her dismissive tone raised Lily’s hackles. “You didn’t mind my trusting nature when I snuck you in after curfew.”

“Exactly my point. I shouldn’t be trusted. You’re far too naive for your own good.” Regina linked her elbow through Lily’s and led her toward the foyer that opened to the restaurant. “Come along and I’ll tell you everything you need to know about Frozen Oaks while we unravel this long story of yours.”

Lily bit her tongue. There was no use getting her back up. She’d be gone by morning, and Regina appeared to have moved beyond sneaking through kitchen windows after curfew. Judging by the expensive material of her dress, she’d done quite well for herself over the years. Lily hooked her fingers over the frayed edge of her worn cuff.

“Wait.” Lily dug in her heels. “These are my charges, Sam and Peter. They’re the reason I’m here.”

“Charmed.” Regina’s nose wrinkled. “They’re very quiet for children. I like that. After you freshen up, the dining room is that way.”

She crossed the foyer without a backward glance.

“You’re prettier than she is,” Sam grumbled. “I think she’s jealous.”

Peter nodded his agreement. “You’re much prettier.”

“Miss Dawson is obviously unaccustomed to children,” Lily said with as much diplomacy as she could muster. “But since she might know something about your grandfather, I suggest we accept her invitation.”

Brushing at her rumpled skirts, she urged the children forward. The unexpected twinge of vanity startled her. When had she ever worried about her clothing or her station in life? Her recent faint had obviously muddled her head. She should be counting her blessings instead.

Over the years, scores of people had passed through the boardinghouse. Though the transient nature of the business had prevented forming close relationships, delivering countless stacks of linens up and down endless flights of stairs had finally proved beneficial.

“Don’t just stand there loitering,” Regina called from the dining room. “My curiosity about your new role as a schoolmarm must be sated. Not to mention I’m famished.”

“I don’t like her.” Peter’s eyes took on a mutinous gleam. “I don’t like her at all.”

Though Lily was inclined to agree, she held her tongue. “Regina can be a touch abrasive.”

“If we’re gonna live here,” Sam said, “we’re stuck with her.”

“This has been a trying day for all of us.” Lily stifled a grin at Peter’s grim expression. “We’ll all feel better after we eat.”

The hotel restaurant was crowded with heavy furniture and shadowed with thick burgundy velvet curtains blocking the windows. Over half of the chairs were occupied. The majority of the patrons were men, their heads bent together in conversation, their voices low. An enormous stone fireplace dominated the far end of the room with a crackling blaze. The establishment struck Lily as something of a lair. A den of iniquity where deals were struck—deals that began in infamy and ended in blood.

An unconscious shudder rippled through her. She was worse than Peter with her wild, ghoulish imaginings.

Following Regina, the three wove their way between the packed tables toward a secluded enclave.

The siblings discovered a checkers set and Lily excused them to play. Distracted by the game, the two were perched on wingback chairs covered in hunter green crushed-velvet fabric set before the fire.

“You’d best be careful around here.” Regina patted her hand. “That Jake is bad news. He has the whole town quaking. Even Vic avoids him when he can.”

“He didn’t seem so bad.” There’d been a grim, almost grudging sort of compassion to his warning. Not to mention Lily was starting to feel peevish toward Regina and her increasingly transparent insults. “Surely you exaggerate.”

“Wait a second, it’s all coming back!” Regina clapped her hands. “You’re orphan Lily. You’re the one who stayed on with Mrs. Hollingsworth after your father died. No wonder you’re chaperoning those boys. You were something of a legend amongst the boarders. Anything must be better than working as an indentured servant in that gloomy old boardinghouse with Mrs. Grouch.”

The shock froze Lily so completely that the sense of chill was almost physical. Never for a moment had it occurred to her that she was the subject of rumors. Having her personal tragedy reduced to backstairs gossip stung more than she cared to admit. She wasn’t some tragic figure to be pitied—a curiosity amongst the boarders.

Biting the inside of her lip, she gathered herself, forcing her attention back to the current problem. There were far more serious issues at stake than the discovery of her humiliating, heretofore unknown, reputation. Despite the warmth of the room, she wrapped her arms around her body and rubbed her upper shoulders.

“I haven’t quit.” Lily glanced at the two siblings. Speaking about them in the same breath as dollars and cents felt like a betrayal. “The children were recently orphaned. I’m chaperoning them until their grandfather arrives.”

“All the way from St. Joseph? The train tickets alone must have cost a fortune. How well are you being paid?”

“Well enough, I suppose. A judge arranged everything.”

“Judges dump strays into orphanages. They don’t search for long-lost relatives. Mommy and Daddy must have left behind quite a lot of money to pay all those bills.”

“They are not strays!” The crude language shocked Lily into silence for a beat. “They are children. With thoughts and feelings.”

“Whatever you say. I’ve never been much for children.”

“Apparently not.”

A harried server wearing a stained apron loosely wrapped around her gaunt frame set two cups of coffee before them. The server darted away without a word of greeting. Lily caught a brief glimpse of the spill of gray hair escaping from the bun at the nape of the server’s neck before the kitchen door slammed.

“Thank you, Ida.” Regina raised her voice and flicked an irritated glance in the woman’s direction. “I’m almost relieved to discover that you didn’t accompany the children out of the kindness of your heart. Charitable people make me nervous. I always wonder what they’re hiding.”

“Why would charitable people be hiding something?”

“Because nothing is free in this life.”

“Except for the grace of God.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Regina’s lips twisted and she flicked a crumb from the table. “Tell me again how much you’re getting paid to play nursemaid?”

“It’s not like that.” Lily’s relief at discovering a familiar face was rapidly waning. “Mrs. Hollingsworth is selling the boardinghouse. When I return to St. Joseph, I’ll have enough money saved for the second half of the down payment.”

She’d considered all her options and taking over the boardinghouse was the obvious, sensible solution for her future. She’d have a source of income that no one could ever take away from her. She’d never have to depend on anybody for anything. Autonomy was the most sensible choice of all.

“Exactly my point.” Regina threw up her hands with a grimace. “I only knew Mrs. Hollingsworth for a few weeks, but I can tell you this—she’ll never sell that place. The old bat is stringing you along. Did you threaten to quit or something? Is that why she suddenly had a change of heart?”

Not this time. Lily stiffened her jaw. She wasn’t letting Regina’s cynical chatter worm its way into her head. This time was different. The landlady’s rheumatism was growing worse, and she’d been pining over the idea of a small cottage located nearer to where her son lived. Surely people who pined didn’t simply change their mind on a whim.

“Hmph.” Regina cupped her well-manicured fingers around her porcelain coffee cup. “I’d need the paperwork in hand before I believed a word of anything that woman said. Surely you have everything in writing.”

“We have a verbal agreement.”

“You’re being foolish.” Regina’s gaze flitted over Lily’s faded calico dress with its sad, frayed sleeves. “You’re better off spending the money on a new dress. You can’t bait a trap with moldy cheese.”

“I beg your pardon.”

Regina waved her hand. “I’m only joking. Don’t look so shocked.”

“I’m not baiting a trap for some hapless male,” Lily snapped. “I’m making a prudent investment in my future.”

Despite her bluster, the barb stung. Why must the term foolish be used so often in reference to her decisions? Foolish Lily. Naive Lily. She’d worked hard. She’d paid her dues. She’d considered all the alternatives and arrived at the judicious choice. There was absolutely no reason for her to be sitting here defending herself.

Regina reached out and covered Lily’s hands. “This world is run by men. Men only do business with other men. If you want success beyond that silly little boardinghouse, you’ll need a husband.”

A sharp pain throbbed behind Lily’s temple. Regina’s solution wasn’t any better. A woman was better off counting on herself. Love was never the sensible choice. Nothing tangible was secure save for the brick and mortar holding the roof above her head and the land beneath her feet.

People could come and go all they pleased. She didn’t need their company, only their business. She glanced at the two heads bent over their checkers game and a wave of sorrow nearly engulfed her. Love inevitably led to loss. She couldn’t endure that sort of pain again.

“I need to find someone,” Lily began. She’d grown heartily weary of the current subject. Despite the outlaw’s warning, she saw no reason to doubt Emil as a guardian. “The children’s grandfather was supposed to meet our stagecoach. He’s late.”

“Who is he? I know everyone in Frozen Oaks.” Regina flashed a spiteful grin. “And all of their secrets.”

“His name is—”

A blast of glacial air indicated the arrival of another customer. As the gentleman approached their table, Regina’s face lit up. Curious, Lily studied the newcomer. His extreme fairness caught and held her attention immediately. The gentleman’s pants were striped in shades of charcoal, his waistcoat was checked in burgundy, and he’d topped his outfit with a black suit coat. The only blemish to his neat appearance was the tail end of a blue bandanna trailing from his pocket.

Though not exactly uncomely, everything about him was slightly off. He was at least a decade older than Regina, with a wide smile that stretched his loose jowls. His light blond hair was neatly trimmed, but shot with gray, washing out the color. Despite his jovial expression, there was sharp edge to his pale blue eyes.

Regina rose to her feet, rattling the table and sloshing her coffee.

“Vic,” she exclaimed, her voice breathless. “This is my friend Lily Winter. Lily, this is Vic Skaar. Vic owns the hotel and the lumberyard. He’ll own the whole town before long.”

The man grasped Lily’s outstretched hand in a bone-crushing greeting. “A pleasure, Miss Winter.”

Lily stifled a grimace at his clammy palm. “Mr. Skaar.”

Regina scooted closer and Vic smoothly evaded her advance. Glancing between the pair, Lily frowned.

“Call me Vic,” the gentleman said. “What brings you to our quaint town, Miss Winter?”

He winked at her, a curious twitch of his left cheek that didn’t completely close his eye. His greeting was so at odds with the exchange she’d shared with the gunfighter, she paused a moment before answering.

“Are you all right, Miss Winter?” Vic hoisted an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to ask such a confusing question.”

“I’m fine.” Lily straightened. “I’m just visiting.”

“How fortunate for us.”

The look on his face was cloying and hinted at the suggestion of something more. Lily sharpened her gaze. At the boardinghouse, she’d struck down more than one overly ardent suitor who thought the maids were providing more than fresh linens. She wasn’t completely naive.

“My visit is brief,” she replied firmly. “Just until the children are settled.”

Much to Lily’s chagrin, Regina had noted Vic’s interest. The other woman’s face took on a hard look, jarring Lily’s fragile nerves. Though Regina’s cloying affection struck Lily as contrived, the other woman was clearly warning her away.

“When are you leaving?” Regina demanded.

“The evening stagecoach,” Lily cut in quickly, seeking to ease Regina’s disquiet. “I’ve escorted Sam and Peter on the last leg of their journey. We’re waiting on their grandfather. He’s late.”

Regina was the one person in town she knew, and Lily was loath to damage the relationship until she discovered Emil’s whereabouts.

Vic followed her gaze and caught sight of the siblings in deep concentration over their checkers game.

“What’s the gentleman’s name?” he asked. “Maybe I can help.”

“Emil Tyler.”

Vic’s grin faltered. “That might be a problem, Miss Winter.”

Chapter Three

Emil has gotten tangled in some trouble.

Jake’s declaration ricocheted around Lily’s brain. Had he been implying something more sinister? The idea sent her strained nerves clamoring. What sort of trouble could an elderly man tangle with?

“Emil missed the gentlemen’s weekly poker game.” Regina chuckled, though she didn’t sound particularly amused. “Emil never misses a poker game. No one has seen him in a week. Come to think of it, I heard he had a dustup with that gunfighter, Jake, a few days back.”

Vic bestowed Lily with another of his odd half winks. “You’d best watch your back, Lily. With Emil gone, those two boys are ripe for the picking. Even I saw their luggage stacked outside the livery. One look at the brass fittings on their steamer trunks and everyone will know we have a couple of rich orphans in our midst. Folks around these parts will slit your throat for an acre of land, let alone a juicy bank account.”

“Stop.” Regina playfully slapped his arm. “Vic, you’re frightening the poor girl.”

With a gasp Lily half stood from her chair, then thumped back down. Only last week the St. Joseph Star had featured a story about gravediggers desecrating corpses in search of valuables. Greed drove people into all sorts of despicable acts. With Emil missing, how difficult would it be for someone to claim guardianship of the boys and drain their inheritance?

Vic pried Regina’s fingers loose from his coat sleeve. “A fellow like Jake is dodgy. Considering his argument with Emil, maybe you should speak with the sheriff. A pretty girl looking out for two young, helpless boys needs protection.”

Panic rose in the back of Lily’s throat. She was physically weak and shaken, and her thoughts were muddled; clearly she hadn’t yet recovered from her earlier faint. The room wavered and shimmered and she blinked her eyes back into focus.

“You’ve had a long day,” Regina said. “You’re not thinking straight. Someone has to look out for those boys.”

Hollow and bewildered, Lily gazed at the youngsters. Even if she was wrong, dare she put them at further risk? She’d made a vow to guard their safety.

Jake had claimed he was enjoying the view. What if he’d dispatched Emil and was targeting the boys? She’d best act quickly.

“Jake can be quite charming,” Regina said. “You wouldn’t be the first woman taken in by him.”

Certainly, he’d played the gentleman. But then he’d practically ordered her to leave.

Lily pressed two trembling fingers against her aching forehead. If her fears were unfounded, there was no harm in checking.

“You’re right. I’ll speak with the sheriff.” Her thoughts jumbled, Lily gathered her reticule and stood. “Do you mind if the children stay and finish their game? I’d rather not upset them.”

“Anything to help.” Vic grinned. “Since you’ll miss your stagecoach, let me extend my hospitality. We have plenty of rooms available at the hotel.”

Regina’s expression shifted. “Perhaps it’s safer for all three of them if they return to St. Joseph as soon as possible.”

“Nonsense,” Vic declared. “Sheriff Koepke will set this to rights.”

“The sheriff can sort this out with Lily and the boys safely tucked on the stagecoach.” Regina’s voice took on a prickly edge. “There’s no use staying in Frozen Oaks if Emil isn’t coming back.”

Lily hadn’t taken the gunfighter seriously, but she wasn’t making the same mistake twice. After donning her coat and assuring Sam and Peter that she’d be back soon, Lily followed Vic’s directions across the street. Trust no one, Jake had said. Frozen Oaks is a dangerous place.

He wanted the three of them on that stagecoach and away from the safety of town for a reason. All of Regina’s sly innuendos about the siblings’ inheritance came rushing back. Sam and Peter were wealthy, vulnerable. Her steps slowed. Was she overreacting? Had she read too many of Peter’s dime novels lately?

She picked up her speed once more. Right or wrong, something was suspicious about Emil’s absence. She wasn’t naive orphan Lily. She certainly wasn’t taking any chances. Emil hadn’t been seen in a week, which meant he’d gone missing only days after accepting guardianship. With their grandfather absent, only one last obstacle remained between the boys and someone who might want to exploit them for their inheritance.

She discovered the sheriff where Vic had predicted, sipping whiskey and playing cards in the saloon. Lily wrinkled her nose against the stench and forged onward. The lawman was wiry and small, barely larger than Sam, and had the bulbous pink nose of a gentleman who spent more time in the saloon than in church. He reminded her of a puppet with his exaggerated features and slim body. He was also her best option at the moment.

The sheriff caught sight of her and winked. “What can I do for you, little lady?”

Lily rolled her eyes. Was winking some sort of odd affliction amongst the men of Frozen Oaks?

“I’m concerned about the disappearance of Emil Tyler.”

“Old Emil? He’ll turn up. I don’t get paid to go looking for folks just because someone has their apron in a twist.”

The pain in her temple throbbed once more. This day had gone entirely too long.

“I think the gunfighter might be involved,” she said.

“Jake?”

Lily nodded.

“Don’t go messing with that one. Even Vic steers clear of him.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“What do you think he’s done?”

“I saw Jake watching Emil’s barbershop. Emil has disappeared. It stands to reason the two may be connected.”

“Get me some proof, lady. Right now, all you’ve got is an old fellow who wandered off. For all we know, he ain’t right in the head. Old fellows get odd like that.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” Lily bit out the words through clenched teeth. “I’ll find the proof myself.”

* * *

Jake yanked open the lumber-mill door and searched the dimly lit interior. He glanced over his shoulder, then shut the door. Lily Winter had been trailing him for two days. Though his admiration was grudging, he had to concede she was rather good. She’d nearly caught up with him a couple of times.

Clearly she thought he was involved with Emil’s disappearance. There’d been no developments on that front either. No one was talking. His entire network had gone quiet. A sense of anticipation permeated the air, as though everyone in town was waiting for something to break.

A sound caught his attention and he spun around and met the muzzle of a quaking gun.

A pair of familiar, pretty blue eyes peered over the barrel.

“I was just wondering when something might happen.” Jake automatically raised his hands. “I thought I lost you at the livery.”

“You knew I was following you?” She tossed her head. “How long have you known?”

“I had a clue, yes. A lady in the bathhouse is bound to cause a stir.”

A violent shade of pink suffused her cheeks. “That was an accident. I was following you and not paying attention to my surroundings. Thankfully, the bathhouse was empty.”

The empty bathhouse had been more than fortunate. When he’d first caught wind she might be following him, he’d baited the trap. She’d followed him inside, then exited rather rapidly.

“Since you’re here,” Jake continued, “how about you tell me why you’re following me?”

“Vic said you had an argument with Emil. Why didn’t you mention your disagreement when we talked before?”

“Vic is lying.” Jake held his hands in a placating gesture, stalling for time. “I’m only trying to help you, Miss Winter. You should also know that the sheriff is following you.”

“A coincidence. I went to him for help when we first arrived.”

“Then he’s letting you do most of the legwork. He waits until you follow me, and then he follows you.”

“I’m inclined to believe you’re lying about that, as well. The sheriff doesn’t strike me as being much of a go-getter.”

“You’ve been here for two days, Miss Winter. Have you discovered anything else that’s odd about the inhabitants of Frozen Oaks?”

“Answer my questions first,” she demanded. “Did you kill Emil?”

“No.” At least the question was finally out in the open. “And we don’t even know if Emil is dead. He’s missing. There’s a difference.”

A myriad of emotions flitted across her face, a hint of sorrow and something more—a touch of anger. “People don’t just go missing. Either they disappear because they want to, or something bad has happened to them.”

“I’m trying to help you, Lily. If Vic is attempting to turn your suspicions on me, there must be a reason.” Jake didn’t have much time. If Lily was here, the sheriff wasn’t far behind. He searched their surroundings and strained his ears, hearing only the scuffling of a mouse scurrying along the walls. “Don’t you find something odd about this place?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Isn’t it curious that there’s no lumber in the lumber mill? According to town gossip, the Frozen Oaks lumber mill once did a thriving business.”

She tipped back her head and gazed at the empty rafters. “Not anymore.”

“Precisely, Miss Winter. The lumberyard is empty. The hotel rarely has guests, and there’s room in the livery for plenty of horses. That doesn’t bode well for Mr. Skaar.”

“Why the sudden interest in Vic?”

“I’m trying to warn you. Don’t be fooled by Vic. There are things about him you don’t know.”

“I’m done waiting. Those children deserve answers. Someone around here knows something. You’re the obvious suspect.”

Jake grappled with his own frustrations. He’d been too slow in acting. He’d only become concerned with Emil’s absence when the boys had arrived unannounced on the same day Vic had become a housebreaker. But if Vic had already dispatched Emil to erase his gambling debt, what was his interest in the grandchildren?

“I know you’re afraid,” he said. “I’m only interested in Sam and Peter’s safety, and yours, as well.”

She raised the gun above her head and wiped her forehead on her shoulder. Dust motes swirled in the dim shaft of light streaking through a gap in the paneling.

He took a step forward and she scurried back. “I’m warning you. You better not try anything, mister. If the sheriff is following me like you say, he’ll be here soon.”

“Where’d you get the weapon?” he asked.

She raised her chin a notch. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Have you ever fired a gun before?”

“I can pull a trigger.”

His stomach pitched. There was nothing more dangerous than a greenhorn with a pistol. “Fair enough. But I think you need a little practice. You’re lining up your shot by the notch at the end of the barrel.”

“Isn’t that how you’re supposed to line up the shot?”

“There are actually two points that line up. When you squeeze the trigger, squeeze slowly. The kickback will pull your shot off target.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“You asked me before if I’d noticed anything odd about the people living in Frozen Oaks. My answer is yes. Regina fawns all over Vic, even though I don’t think she truly likes him very much. The sheriff is more interested in discovering a straight flush than in trying to figure out why one of his local residents has gone missing. The strangest of all? The local gun for hire is teaching me to fire a weapon. While I’m pointing a gun at him.”

“Trust me, Miss Winter. I’m looking out for your best interest.”

“Trust you? How can I trust anyone? I have two young children who deserve a home. They deserve a family. Someone around here must know something. If you don’t start talking, I’m going to start shooting.” She raised her eyes heavenward. “Don’t worry, I’ll line up both sights.”

“You won’t shoot a defenseless man.”

“No. But then, you’re not a defenseless man, are you?”

She wasn’t nearly as tough as she appeared. He’d conned his way through enough situations to recognize the signs. If the boys were in danger, she’d shoot. Without that incentive, he doubted she had the nerve. He only had to prevent her from accidentally firing the weapon until he regained control of the situation.

“I’ll tell you what I know.” He lowered his hands. “Rumor has it that Vic lost money to Emil in a poker game. A lot of money.”

“Vic has money to burn. How much could he lose to a kindly old grandfather?”

“You’ve never met Emil, have you?”

A lock of her straw-colored hair drifted across her cornflower blue eyes. “If you didn’t kill Emil, where is he?” She blew a breath, fluttering the strands aside. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“No, I don’t. But I have a few ideas. Some suspicions. Why don’t you put down the gun and we can discuss my thoughts?”

“Not likely.”

If only he could simply tell her the truth. At this point, she’d never believe him anyway. This was the part of the job he loathed. After five years of running with thieves, corrupt lawmen and killers, he’d lost his ability for gentlemanly speech. He had no convincing words to soothe her with. And for the first time in his career, he desperately wanted those words.

He shook off the hesitation.

She was a distraction. The boys were vulnerable. Nothing more, nothing less. The sooner she left, the better. If the accusation in her melancholy eyes sparked his guilt, that was the price he paid for keeping her and the boys safe.

He took another step forward and she stumbled back once more.

“Don’t come any closer.” Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps. “I’m warning you, the sheriff knows all about your interest in the inheritance. He’ll take you to jail. Once we find proof that you’re responsible for Emil’s disappearance, jail is where you’ll stay.”

An inheritance? The ramifications socked him in the gut. Vic didn’t want to erase his debt, he wanted a new influx of cash. All the pieces instantly made sense: Emil was missing. His grandchildren were the beneficiaries of an inheritance. Lily Winter was the only thing standing between the boys and someone who might take advantage of them.

He’d underestimated the depths of Vic’s depravity and played right into his hands as the villain of the piece.

Carefully considering how to regain Lily’s trust, Jake took a cautious step forward. “If the sheriff is on his way, why don’t you give me the gun? Your breathing is too shallow. You’ll faint again if you don’t calm down. We’ll wait for him together.”

“Don’t patronize me. Stop playing the charming gentleman and go back to being an outlaw.”

“Lily, we both know the sheriff isn’t coming to your rescue. You can’t hold a gun on me forever. You might as well let me go.” He took a step closer. “There’s another stagecoach this evening. If you’re worried about the boys’ safety, then leave now. Take them far away from here.”

“Stop treating me like I’m a simpleton.” Her gaze darted around the cavernous warehouse and landed on him once more. “You must have a reason for wanting me on that stage.”

“You’re not a simpleton. You’re right to be cautious. But you’ve stumbled into the middle of a dangerous situation. I don’t want you hurt.”

Her stance lifted the floodgates on his past once more. She’d put herself in harm’s way for the boys unless he prevented her.

“I don’t understand you.” Lily’s arms sagged and the barrel of the heavy gun tipped down. “Why didn’t you take the boys when I fainted?”

“Think about what you’re saying, Lily. I’m not the one you need to fear.”

“Tell me something. Anything. Give me one reason why I can trust you. Those children need their grandfather. I need to go home. I’m begging you, let me have one piece of proof that gives me a reason to believe what you’re saying.”

“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.

Chapter Four

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 at all. Except I wasn’t given Emil’s address since he was supposed to meet us at the livery.” She scrambled for an excuse for her abrupt departure. “Do you know where he lives? Perhaps the children and I can discover a clue to his disappearance.”

“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. The labels included both Sam’s and Peter’s name.

The two caught sight of her discovery and scurried over.

Peter held a package near his ear and shook it. “These are for us.”

Squinting, he held the box to the light streaming from the second-story window.

Despite the general lack of preparation for the arrival of two youngsters, their grandfather had, at least, bought them presents. Why purchase gifts and then abscond? Feeling guilty but determined, Lily riffled through a stack of books on the side table. She discovered several dime novels featuring Deadwood Dick on the cover. Deeper in the pile, a black-and-white cover displayed a tall man with a hat pulled low over his eyes. The title read Gunman for Hire.

While Sam and Peter explored the open kitchen on the far side of the room, she followed the path the tracks had taken into the small apartment. Once again the arrangement struck her as odd. Where did Emil suppose his grandchildren would sleep? There was only the single bed that hardly looked big enough for a grown man.

The trail ended before a bureau set along the far wall beneath a double window. She ran her finger across the top and came away with only the barest hint of dust. Uttering a brief prayer for forgiveness, she opened the top drawer. A handkerchief box, the lid open, rested in the corner. Several coins were scattered along the bottom.

The years slipped away and she was five years old again. Each night when her father returned from work, he had emptied his pockets of coins and dollars into a similar box. She glanced at the footprints once more. The intruder had known exactly what he was looking for.

Though rifling through a stranger’s belongings went against her nature, she opened the second drawer and discovered a stack of folded blue handkerchiefs. Her heart kicked in her chest. She’d seen the same handkerchief before.

Lifting her head, she gazed out the window. Emil’s bedroom directly overlooked the hotel and the boardwalk, where a wooden chair sat empty.

I like the view.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pictured Jake’s boots. Pointed tips. How could she forget? She’d stared at them propped on the boardwalk rail for nearly twenty minutes. The footprints in the snow had been square-toed.

“Oh, dear.”

She had a bad feeling Emil’s troubles were wrapped up with a man who wore a peacock embroidered vest and winked without closing his eye.

She closed the lid with a snap and hastily exited the space.

Sensing the change in her mood, Sam scooted closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. When we return to the hotel, pack your belongings. We might have to leave in a hurry.” She knelt before Sam and Peter and held their hands. “I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always look out for you. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

Peter clutched his package. “Can we keep the presents?”

“Yes. We’ll take them with us.”

She reached for the doorknob and discovered the metal casing was bent and hung loose.

Sam paused on the threshold. “What do you suppose happened to Grandpa Emil?”

“I don’t know. But I know someone who can find out.”

* * *

Jake prowled the narrow jail cell. The building wasn’t much to look at. A squat brick structure set slightly north of the town. Only three cells flanked the back wall, a cot in each. Obviously Frozen Oaks was a quiet town without need of more lockups. The walls were rough-hewn and covered with maps and wanted posters. A tattered American flag had been haphazardly pinned between two corners.

He should have told Lily the truth. He’d been trying to protect her and instead he’d put her life in greater danger. Impotent fury settled in his chest. He’d made mistakes in his career before, especially in the beginning.

He’d never felt this powerless.

He tested the bars once again, though more to vent his frustration than discover a weakness. The cell wasn’t particularly sophisticated, but he was without tools. The sheriff had even stripped him of his shoes and belt.

The door swung open and Lily appeared in the entry.

He blinked a few times, wondering if he was hallucinating. Had the blow Sheriff Koepke delivered rattled his brain? She was just as he remembered. Her blond hair surrounded her face in a lustrous halo. Her coat was an indistinguishable shade of brown, but the hem of her bright yellow dress peeked out from beneath the wool.

His jaw hung slack. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ll explain later. Where are the keys to the cell?”

He motioned with one hand toward a narrow cupboard on the wall.

Lily and her cheerful smiles were a jaunty dash of liveliness in a desolate world. Entombed in a Nebraska winter for eight weeks, he’d begun to think the wind and snow had extracted all the color from the world. The barren landscape and drab buildings along with the constant haze had taken their toll.

With brisk efficiency she flipped open the door and retrieved the keys. “Where are your shoes?”

Being caught in his stocking feet left him feeling exposed and oddly defenseless.

“On the bench by the door.”

“Hmm.” She snatched one of his boots and studied the sole. Relief flitted across her face. “Just as I thought.”

“What did you think?”

“Never mind. What about your gun belt? You’ll need that, as well.”

“The belt is hanging on the hook above your head, but they took my guns.”

Jake doubted Sheriff Koepke planned on giving them back.

Jingling the keys, she approached his cell.

He braced his hands on the bars. “What are you doing?”

“I’m releasing you.”

He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d declared she was riding an elephant in the Sahara. “You can’t. That’s against the law.”

“What does an outlaw care about breaking the law?”

Good point. “I don’t want you in trouble with the sheriff.”

“It’s my fault you were arrested,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’m correcting the wrong. I’m letting you out.”

“That’s not how the law works.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Give me the keys.”

“Why?”

“Because if I open the door, you didn’t break the law. I did.”

“You’re a terrible outlaw.” She dangled the keys through an opening in the bars. “No wonder you got yourself arrested.”

“You have no idea.”

He awkwardly groped at the lock, turned the key and yanked open the door. “Why are you doing this?”

Unbearably relieved he’d purchased new socks the previous week, he took a seat on the bench and tugged his boots over his stocking feet.

“I’ve been doing a little investigating,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve discovered a few things about Vic Skaar.”

Jake’s attention sharpened. “What does Vic Skaar have to do with breaking me out of jail?”

“I searched Emil’s rooms above the barbershop today. Someone had already been there.”

A cold sweat broke out on his aching forehead. “Promise me you’re done with sleuthing, Miss Winter. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I won’t promise you anything. Whoever searched the barbershop knew Emil wasn’t there. He knew Emil wasn’t going to catch him. Don’t you find that suspicious?”

Jake wrapped his gun belt around his waist. He tightened the buckle, then strapped the second tie around his thigh.

The empty holster weighed on his nerves. “And you think you know the identity of this mysterious housebreaker?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who. The ruse doesn’t suit you. The view you were enjoying the other day faced the barbershop. When I saw Vic at the restaurant, he had a blue handkerchief in his pocket. I found the same blue handkerchiefs with Emil’s belongings.”

While Jake admired her investigative skills, he didn’t want her involved in the case. “Coincidence. There’s only one store in town. Why break into someone’s room for a handkerchief?”

“The place was dusty. Vic is clearly fastidious. He searched the rooms, wiped his hands on the handkerchief, then stuck it in his pocket out of habit.”

Jake stifled a groan. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

Keeping her out of danger was going to be impossible at this rate.

“Don’t mock me.” Furious color suffused her cheeks. “I think Vic had something to do with Emil’s disappearance. I believe he may be after Sam and Peter for their inheritance.”

“What brought you to that conclusion?”

He didn’t doubt her, but he was curious about her reasoning.

“Vic just informed me that the Tyler children were now a part of this jurisdiction, and the sheriff has decided that Vic Skaar should assume their guardianship.”

“Those are some awfully fancy words for Sheriff Koepke.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. He’d had some time to think while he was locked up. Whatever Vic was searching for, he hadn’t found the item. Jake had watched Vic exit the building looking grimmer than when he entered. There was still something missing from his motivations. If he’d been responsible for Emil’s disappearance over his poker debt, why search his rooms? Dead men didn’t collect debts.

A sudden realization dawned on Jake. Vic hadn’t found out about Emil’s grandchildren until after he’d searched Emil’s rooms. He also hadn’t discovered what he was searching for, which meant he needed a new plan.

Lily, Sam and Peter had dropped into his lap like a gift. Vic and Emil were definitely tangled in some trouble.

None of that explained why Lily wanted to bust him out of jail. Especially considering she’d practically put him there.

“Why are you here?” Jake asked. “I still don’t know what you want from me.”

“I think that’s obvious. You’re a gun for hire, aren’t you?” She extended the pistol she’d held on him earlier, the muzzle down. “Here’s a gun. I want to hire you.”

Chapter Five

Jake flushed. This certainly complicated matters. More for safety than for an acknowledgment of the offer, he accepted the gun.

After flipping open the chamber, he spun the cylinder.

Empty.

Clearly the ancient weapon hadn’t been cleaned or fired in ages. Probably a relic from an elderly relative.

“This gun isn’t much use without the bullets,” he said.

“I know.” Lily scowled. “I forgot about the bullets. I didn’t think having a loaded gun around the children was very safe.”

“It’s not much of a defense either.” While he was grateful she’d relinquished the weapon, he wasn’t finished with his lecture. Lily holding a gun was about as natural as a peacock in a rowboat and just as precarious. “You and I need to have a long and detailed conversation about personal safety and protection.”

“Until then—” she looked him up and down, as though measuring the strength of his resolve “—you may assume the responsibility for the gun.”

Lily Winter took too much for granted. She was far too trusting. What if he was actually an outlaw? What then? She’d just handed a gun to someone she thought was a killer for hire. He could easily shoot her. If he had the bullets, and if the gun’s workings weren’t rusted with age. But that wasn’t the point.

“The gun is mine,” he said. “For now. And we’re not associating. I haven’t agreed to anything.”

She reached for the weapon and he yanked it out of reach.

“You’re stealing my gun?” she cried. “That’s some gratitude for breaking you of jail.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

Her expression turned wintry. “I’ll pay you.”

“How much?”

“Fifty dollars.”

“Not enough.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You never intended to accept!”

“I needed to know how much you could afford.”

With an abundance of caution, Sheriff Koepke had barred all the windows in the cramped space. Sunlight persevered, casting blocks of shadows on the floor, illuminating Lily’s expressive face. He shouldn’t goad her, but there was something magnificent about how the sliver of light piercing the barred window lit her blue eyes.

The color reminded him of the feathers on the crown of a barn swallow. The kind of blue that brought to mind the endless summer days of his youth. When he and his brothers had slipped away from their chores and splashed in the stream behind the old barn—before their mother’s death. He’d felt as though his life had been cleaved in two, and everything before her death had dropped into oblivion. He’d thought those memories had vanished from his consciousness, but for some inexplicable reason, Lily and her charges had inspired their reappearance.

The door swung open, snapping him back to the present.

Sam and Peter scuttled inside. They were bundled head to toe against the cold, wrapped like colorful mummies.

The older boy, Sam, tucked his hands in his armpits and shivered. “I don’t think he saw us.”

Peter slammed the door and leaned against the wood panel. “He’s coming!”

“Why aren’t you at the hotel?” Lily rushed to meet them. “How did you find me?”

“I didn’t figure you’d take a gun to the mercantile,” Peter replied. “We watched you from the window on the landing.”

Sam released his fingers from the warmth of his armpits, skipped past Jake and stuck his face through the bars. “How come the gunfighter isn’t in there? I thought you said he was in jail.”

Peter joined his brother. “Do you think a killer carved his initials in the bricks? Do you think there’s ever been a hanging in Frozen Oaks? Do you think there’s ever been a jail bust? Do you think Billy the Kid was ever locked up in here?”

“Enough of that morbid talk!” Lily snatched the boy’s arm and dragged him back a pace. “You can’t be here. We mustn’t arouse suspicion.”

“But it’s Sherriff Koepke.” Peter grasped his brother’s other arm, putting the boy in an odd tug of war. “He’s coming.”

Jake stilled. “No games. Did you actually see the sheriff?”

“We’re telling the truth.”

“We heard everything,” Sam eagerly added. “The sheriff and Vic were talking. Vic is coming to the jailhouse after he has dinner with Miss Regina and smooths her ruffled feathers.”

“Why is he coming to the jail?” Jake prodded. “Did he say?”

Lily shot him a quelling glance. “Don’t encourage them. We don’t have time for questions. They need to leave.”

“I’m not encouraging them, and time or not, this information is vital.”

Possibly even lifesaving. Vic was obviously interested in the boys and their inheritance. Lily was either part of the prize or a hindrance. Jake needed to know which before he made his next move.

“Vic said that he and the sheriff are going to take care of the prisoner,” Sam continued. “Then he’ll finally have everything he wants.”

“Did either the sheriff or Mr. Skaar see you?” Lily interrupted. “Are you certain he doesn’t know you were listening?”

“We were silent as mountain lions,” Sam offered cheerfully. “We were hiding outside his door. Don’t worry, we were real quiet. He didn’t even know we were there.”

“Why on earth were you spying on him in the first place?”

“Because we found this,” Sam declared. He retrieved a folded St. Joseph Star newspaper from the waistband of his trousers and pointed at a block of text in the social commentary section. “Regina and Vic left this on the table when they finished having lunch with the sheriff. Read the second paragraph.”

Lily grasped the paper. “‘The wealthy heiress to the Carter Smelting Corporation and her husband perished in a cholera epidemic while building a children’s school in the South African Republic. Their sole living heirs have been transferred to the guardianship of their paternal grandfather, Emil Tyler, of Frozen Oaks, Nebraska.’” She flourished the paper. “You can’t trust anyone these days. Who puts that sort of thing in writing? Have reporters no sense?”

“That’s our proof.” Sam nodded. “That creep from the hotel is after us for our fortune, and the sheriff is helping him.”

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