A Family For The Holidays. Sherri Shackelford

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СКАЧАТЬ 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. СКАЧАТЬ