“Correct,” Adam acknowledged. “They should be here in a day or two. Some of the men from town have agreed to help the deputy guard the prisoners around the clock until the army arrives. We don’t want them getting lost on the way to the jail again.”
Bergette glanced about. “Where is that woman in the awful clothes?”
“She’s gone.” Adam set his jaw. “But she’ll be back.”
“That’s comforting,” Bergette said sarcastically. “I’m afraid I’ll have to miss her return. I’ve decided to go back to Fort Griffin with the cavalry. From there I can find a stage easily. I can endure this town no longer. Fort Griffin may be just as harsh, but at least I’ll have men in uniform to protect me.” She left no doubt that she felt Wes and Adam had failed.
Looking around, she added, “Have you seen Charles? I must tell him to begin the packing.”
Wes bowed before Bergette as though he were trying hard to reform and prove himself a gentleman. “My dear Bergette, may I have a word with you?”
She hesitated, then followed him into the kitchen. A few minutes later Adam heard her screaming all the way through the house. Wes must have told her of Charles’s change in employment.
He was thankful he wouldn’t have to get used to the sound of her screams. Bergette was a woman accustomed to having everything one way, her way.
Suddenly, he was impatient for everyone to leave. He wanted to be alone so that he could think of Nichole… if just for a few minutes before he began walking the streets looking for the third man.
TWENTY-FIVE
EVERY MUSCLE IN her body ached from trying to stay in the saddle and not fall asleep. Finally she saw the tiny lights of Daniel’s settlement flickering on the horizon like ghost fires in the Smoky Mountains.
The homes ran along one side of a broad stream while a church and school had been built on the other side. Wes’s map had been accurate, allowing her to use natural landmarks and stay away from civilization.
She’d even avoided Emery’s Post halfway between Fort Worth and Dan’s home, not wanting to awaken Emery. Wes might trust the man, but in her experience, horse traders had never been overly honest. If he’d help her for a price, he’d help anyone looking for her for the same price.
Nichole climbed off her mount, deciding to walk the last mile. Wes had told her that this settlement, like many others in Texas, was a small religious group who thought they’d tame the frontier with their plows and Bibles. Like Parker’s Fort on the banks of the Navasota some thirty years ago, Wes assured her these people, for all their religion, were fighters.
She walked through a freshly plowed field, knowing she’d never ask them to fight to protect her. As she walked, she studied the land looking for routes of escape should the raiders have followed. But they couldn’t have, she reasoned, she’d left no trail.
Wes also told her the house near the edge of the settlement next to the livery would be Daniel’s. The youngest McLain had joined the group as a blacksmith, not a preacher, though both his brothers thought he’d go back into the ministry in time.
Nichole tied her horse and moved up the three steps to the front door of a small, well-built home. Lights were already on in the place so, she hoped she wouldn’t frighten anyone by calling so early. She knocked lightly.
Someone shuffled about inside the house before a young woman opened the door.
“Yes?” she inquired with a shy smile. “Can I help you?”
“Willow?” Nichole couldn’t believe the change. The barefoot little wet nurse stood before her in a dress, not the shift she had worn months ago. Her hair was clean and combed back from her face and she had on shoes. “Willow, is that you?”
The girl tilted her head in confusion. “It’s me, but who are you? I know ever’body in the settlement.”
“I’m a friend of Daniel’s. You only saw me once-you might not remember me. My name’s Nichole Hayward. I was there at the McLain farm the day you first saw the babies.”
“I don’t remember you, but if you’re Daniel’s friend, come on in. He says all are welcome.”
Nichole stepped into a neat little two-room cabin. A loft lowered the ceiling on one side where the kitchen stood. The floor was wood and the furnishings almost stark-a table, a few chairs, a rocker by the fire. In the center of the floor was a huge rug made from scraps of material crocheted in a circle. Two babies sat in the middle of the rug. They both had golden curls, angel faces, and clean nightshirts.
“Me and the twins were just having our morning snack. We sometimes get up earlier than Mr. Daniel.” Willow folded down on the rug. “You want one?” She handed Nichole a slice of bread covered with jelly.
Nichole lowered her empty saddlebag to the floor and removed her hat. She sat at the table and watched Willow and the babies. “This is good,” she said as she tasted the bread.
Willow shared her piece with first one twin, then the other. “I remember you now,” she grinned. “You told me the twins’ ma was a good cook. I remember that and I tell it to the twins sometimes. But Mrs. March from next door made this jelly and bread. She’s a widow with five kids. Mr. Daniel takes care of her stock in exchange for fresh bread twice a week and a meal every night for us. She brings it over, and all I have to do is wash the pot and give it back to her come morning after Mr. Daniel cooks breakfast.” Willow smiled. “He cooks whatever I like, unless he’s in a hurry.”
Nichole watched Willow. She couldn’t help but notice that not only were the twins healthy and happy, Willow seemed to be also.
Willow stood and moved to the neat little kitchen. “Want some milk? We got lots of milk. All the milk I can drink. Mr. Daniel’s got a cow just so we don’t run out.” She poured two cups of milk and handed one to Nichole, then sat down and offered the twins each a drink from her cup.
“Mr. Daniel is good to you?”
Willow smiled. “Ever’body is here. Most of the women come by to check on me ever’ day, and sometimes they invite me and the twins to their house. Then I don’t have to watch the twins so close because the older girls want to hold them.” Willow grinned. “Us women make butter and soap and important things like that together. I bring my share home and give some to Mr. Daniel, and he says I’m priceless.”
Nichole smiled and leaned back in the chair. She knew Adam and Wes had feared how Daniel, being widowed with two babies, might survive. He seemed to be doing just fine.
“What are the twins’ names?” Nichole smiled at the girls.
“Twin,” Willow answered. “That’s all, just twin. Mr. Daniel calls them angel or dear one, but I just call them twin. They both look up at me when I do.”
“Where is Daniel?” Nick asked.
“I don’t know. He didn’t talk much at supper or play with the girls as long as he usually does.” Willow lifted one of the twins. “Some nights he sleeps in the loft, but some nights he leaves and don’t come back until morning. He says he has work to do.”
Moving toward the only other room, the bedroom, Willow added, “I got to nurse the babies. Mrs. March told me I can only feed them twice a day now ’cause it’s time they were drinking from a cup.” She looked around as if unsure what to do with a guest in the house.
“I have to be going.” Nichole stood. “Thank you for the bread and milk.”
Willow smiled, seeing that she’d done right.
“Good morning, Willow.” Nichole moved to the door. “I’ll see you later.”
Relieved that her problem was solved, Willow nodded her good-bye.
Nichole walked outside, wondering where she would bed down for a few hours. She had thought to be welcome at Daniel’s house, but couldn’t blame Willow for barely remembering her. The girl had only met Nick one day when her world was changing. Nick couldn’t help but smile at the memory of how Wes had reacted to Willow showing her breasts. After his comment about Bergette’s powdered chest, she knew she’d have enough ammunition to tease him when next they met.