Seemed to him she was long past that. “It’s just a shack mostly used for storage. It’s no castle, but there’s a stove in it and the owner said you were welcome to use it.”
Still she stood there as stubborn as a long-eared mule.
“Why not have a look at it and then decide?” he suggested.
“Very well.” She hitched her bags higher and stepped out of the church.
He reached out to help, but she shrugged away and gave him a look that made him drop his hand in haste.
“I thought she was going to say no,” Eleanor whispered to Libby as she got to her feet.
Libby sighed and rose more slowly. “Sure glad she didn’t.”
He led them to the Morton place. The path skirted the edge of town but wasn’t exactly invisible. Soon enough Macpherson would know of Clara’s presence. Soon enough everyone would. He couldn’t say why it mattered if they did, except that he preferred no one linked his name with hers.
Bonnie had been quick enough to jump on that thought. Made a man glad there weren’t a whole lot of people in the area, though the population had certainly swollen greatly in the two years he’d been working at the ranch.
Libby dropped her bag on the ground and plopped down on it. “I’m tired.”
“Come on, Libby,” Clara said, her voice full of patience. “We might as well see what’s ahead.”
Libby shook her head. “I don’t care. I’m not going anymore.”
Blue waited. The sooner he got them safely into a shelter and got back to the church and the peacefulness of his own presence, the better.
Eleanor and Clara studied Libby.
“Are you coming?” Clara asked.
Libby shook her head. “No.”
“Very well. Come along, Eleanor.” She turned to Blue. “Lead on.”
Blue jerked back. “You’re going to leave her here?”
“She’ll come once she sees we’re leaving.”
“No, I won’t.” Libby stuck out her chin.
Blue carefully considered his options. He could take Clara and Eleanor and hope Libby would follow. Or he could stand here and wait. Or he could—
Oh, for goodness’ sake. He scooped up the child. “Now let’s get this done.”
Libby grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”
Clara sighed. “Libby, you don’t need to be carried.”
“Yes, I do.” She settled into Blue’s arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
What he had gotten himself into?
* * *
Clara wanted to snatch her daughter from Blue’s arms. She’d taught Libby better than that, and normally her youngest was shy around strangers. But not Blue, and that had Clara’s nerves twitching. Libby could be stubborn to the point of exasperation. Having her decide Blue was someone she could trust was dangerous. He already knew far too much about them. Should anyone ask, he had no reason not to say what he knew. At every stop, on every train, buggy and stagecoach, she had kept her head down and instructed the girls to do the same. She had changed her way of dress. She had changed her name. The girls had been told not to tell people anything about who they were or where they were going. She didn’t dare hope they had outrun her father. Not yet.
If only the stagecoach would whisk them away. Fort Calgary offered her a place to live and work and take care of herself. To prove to one and all she could provide for her girls.
Until then she had little choice but to wait.
But if she arrived there too weak to work, her plans would fail. She made up her mind. She would accept this shack for now. Find a way to provide food for her daughters and be prepared for the trip north.
She followed Blue along the pathway as Libby glanced over his shoulder, a triumphant look on her face.
Clara hated to admit it, but it was time she reined in her younger daughter.
They turned into a neat yard bordered by trees. She spied a pathway that led to the river. To their right lay the store and other buildings of town that she’d seen upon her arrival and where she’d asked if they had need of someone to help.
A woman waited at the tiny shack at the back of the yard. Wooden walls rose to shoulder height, then gave way to canvas nailed to slats. Blue was right about one thing. It was no castle.