Of course he didn’t, but he felt as if he was about to lose two children and a woman and live his pain all over again. Only this time he’d wonder if they were safe and if he couldn’t have done more.
“Leave it be,” she said.
He knew by the stubborn set of her mouth that she wouldn’t entertain any more discussion on the matter.
Swallowing a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, he turned to the work at hand.
How long would she run? To where? Who would make sure they were safe?
He would. He’d go with them. Oh, she’d protest, but she couldn’t stop him. Anyone who could pay for passage could ride the stagecoach. The matter settled in his mind, he relaxed.
If he thought his decision would make her relax, too, he would have voiced it. But he knew he was wiser to keep the information to himself, so they spent the rest of the day in strained silence, speaking only when it was essential.
The girls, thankfully, were too occupied with their doll to notice.
At the meal Bonnie and Claude might have wondered at the tension between Blue and Clara, except the girls chattered nonstop about their doll.
After supper, he trudged across to the church. Restless, unable to concentrate on his book, he wandered about the building. His steps stalled at the main door. He and Clara had stood there as she confessed her plan. He stared at the spot where he’d held her in his arms. She’d fit so neatly, her head tucked under his chin, her arms around his waist.
He realized he pressed one palm to his chest as if he were holding her there, and he pulled his hand away. She didn’t belong with him, wouldn’t stay in Edendale. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to let her venture out into the wild north on her own.
The thud of a passing horse stole his attention, and he hurried to the window. It was the same rider who had passed earlier. Blue recognized the same harsh set of his mouth, the same guarded watching as if he was looking for someone.
Blue drew back even though he was certain the man couldn’t see into the darkened building. Good thing he hadn’t lit the lantern yet, or the man’s attention would be drawn in this direction. He might be curious enough, interested enough, to investigate further.
The man rode on by, and Blue crossed to the other side to watch him make his way into town. He stopped at Macpherson’s and dismounted. The man walked with purpose toward the store, glancing right and left before he entered.
Would he ask Macpherson about a woman and two girls? Like Clara said, the trio drew attention wherever they went and not solely because they traveled alone.
The man reappeared carrying a small bundle and rode out of town.
Blue’s brow knitted. Why would a man ride through town one way in the morning and back the other way in the evening?
If anyone knew the answer, Macpherson would.
Blue donned his coat and left by way of the main door. He strode casually to the store as if he had nothing in particular in mind.
Macpherson was about to lock up when Blue reached the store. “You need another doll? ’Cause I’m plumb out.”
“Just want some candy.”
Macpherson opened the door for Blue to enter. “You’re a constant surprise, Blue Lyons.”
“Thanks.”
Macpherson hadn’t meant it as a compliment and chuckled.
Blue went to the candy display to choose his favorites. “Didn’t I see someone leaving just before I got here?”
“You did.”
“Don’t think I recognized him.”
“Neither did I, though I’ve seen plenty like him.” Macpherson leaned against the counter as Blue slowly picked out a licorice stick and then a cinnamon one.
“How’s that?” Blue asked in an almost bored voice as if making reluctant conversation while inside he burned with a need to know everything about the stranger.
“Hard. The sort of man who offers no information and lets it be known he wouldn’t welcome questions.”
Blue nodded. He’d met plenty of the same.
Macpherson quirked an eyebrow. “Sort of like you used to be.”
Used to be? Had he changed? Perhaps he had. Whether it was for the good or the bad, he couldn’t say.
“The stranger was just passing by, then?”
“He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. You about done?”