Frozen Trail to Redemption (Preview)

Chapter One

“Damn wind is getting worse!” Gus pulled his scarf up over his face to protect it from the bitter wind that blasted through the canyon, and then he gestured toward the dark clouds that were hanging just to the west and moving in swiftly. “We’ll be lucky to make it to the next station before that hits us.”

Silas McKenna, better known as Rook to the few who knew him at all, nodded his agreement. December was always tough on this route, but the air that cut like glass shards through his coat was more bitter than usual. He turned up his collar, but he kept his eyes open even as they were freezing in their sockets. Something felt wrong, and it wasn’t just the storm that was on its way in.

He watched the horses. They tossed their heads as they pulled the rattling coach along the canyon road. Specks of ice had already begun falling from the sky, sticking in the horses’ manes until they tossed them aside, only to be replaced again. The visibility was going to get worse and worse. Rook braced his feet in the driver’s box and kept his hands on his Winchester, ready for whatever may come.

Gus angled his big eyes over at Rook for a moment before returning his attention to his driving. “Something’s coming, isn’t it?”

Rook had been working as a coach guard for the last seven years, which was a long time for something that was supposed to be temporary. He worked with various drivers along the way, going wherever the routes took him. For the last several months, he’d been paired with Gus as they worked their way from the Las Vegas Valley to Cheyenne and back. Gus knew his stuff when it came to coaches and horses. He could bring the rig right out to the edge of a road and make sure they didn’t plummet over the cliffside. He knew exactly how much the beasts could take and when to bring them in. Rook admired him for that.

Rook also appreciated how quickly Gus had learned the habits of his new guard. Rook never had to tell him something was amiss. The driver simply looked at him and knew. He nodded. “I think so.”

Gus slapped the reins. “Come on, now! Let’s go!”

The horses surged forward with renewed energy at Gus’s words.

Speed, however, was only part of the equation here. This stretch of the road was vulnerable. Rook knew it, and that meant all the wrong people knew it, too.

There, on the ridge. Something moved, a dark shadow against the leaden sky. Rook zeroed in, his eyes quickly assessing the situation. Three men rode along the rim of the canyon. They were trying to stay hidden among the rocks, moving from one to the other, but they were easily silhouetted against the clouds behind them. They kept pace with the coach, and they were riding too close together. Amateurs.

“I think we’ll be all right.” Rook was still at the ready, but he didn’t raise his rifle just yet. “Their horses are all lathered up. They’ve been trying to keep pace with us the whole time. If they were smart, they’d have taken the high road. You can’t get through there with a coach, but men on horseback could navigate it easily. Then they’d be able to cut us off as we tried to come up out of the canyon.”

“Do me a favor and don’t tell them that,” Gus said, muffled through his scarf.

Rook let out a wry laugh. “What’s the matter, Gus? Don’t you trust me to do my job?”

“You know I do. Sometimes I just wish you’d do it a little faster.” Gus’s eyes roved briefly upward to the canyon rim, not daring to look for long without losing control of the coach.

“It’s not about speed. It’s about timing.” Even now, Rook was calculating that timing. He watched the bandits above them and studied the road ahead. “They think they’re going to catch us at Rattlesnake Curve, so I’ve just got to catch them first.”

A wall of stone appeared head of them, already blurred by the snow that was now driving down all around them. Gus pulled in a breath. “Well, here it is.” He shook his head as he pulled back on the reins, easing the horses down into a trot.

Even at a slower pace, the coach swung wildly to the left as the horses whipped to the right along the harsh bend. The canyon walls closed in on them, giving no margin for error on the driver’s behalf. Rook left the driving to Gus and watched as the bandits hurried forward to the one path that led straight down into Rattlesnake Curve, right where the coaches had to slow down.

His sites framed the first bandit as he reached the top of the path. Rook squeezed the trigger. He felt a jolt underneath him as the horses spooked slightly. The bandit’s hat went flying off into the wind, spinning over the canyon. The three mysterious men scattered like startled crows, retreating from the canyon and disappearing into the snow.

“I think that’ll hold them for a bit.” Rook watched carefully, waiting to see if the would-be robbers were brave enough to come back. He’d only given them a warning shot, enough to let them know he was watching. If they were determined enough, they’d regroup and come back.

“I’d rather not risk it,” Gus announced, slapping the reins once again. The coach bounced hard over a bump in the road.

Rook heard the cries from inside the carriage but ignored them. Or at least he tried to, until a hard rapping sounded on the small window that separated the driver’s box from the interior. Rook turned to see a well-dressed man glaring hard at him.

“What’s going on out there?” the man demanded, shouting to be heard above the rumble of the wheels. “Are you trying to kill us?”

“Rather the opposite.” Rook noted the other passengers. A salesman nervously clutched his sample case, sitting so stiffly that he bounced and rocked with every movement of the coach. An elderly couple sat pressed together, watchful but silent, waiting out the ride. It was only this man who was offering up any complaints.

Rook didn’t give an explanation and instead turned his back on the man. He’d noticed him when he’d boarded further south in New Mexico Territory, and already Rook didn’t like him. That hadn’t improved as they crossed into Wyoming. He had the haughty demeanor of someone who thought they deserved special treatment, someone who was better than a lowly stagecoach guard simply because he had more money. Rook didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with someone like that.

A fierce wind blasted them as they rose up out of the canyon, hitting them even harder now that they didn’t have the rock walls to offer some protection. Snow and ice blasted Rook’s cheek and obscured his vision. The world turned completely white, and now the snow was sticking in earnest. It blew in horizontally and still managed to accumulate on the road and on the wheels, making the final curve more dangerous than usual. None of the familiar landmarks could be seen in the sudden onset of the blizzard. Gus relied on Rook to keep them safe, and now Rook relied on Gus to do the same in his own way.

Like a ship emerging from a fog, the two-story building of Sagebrush Station suddenly loomed in front of them. Lights glowed in the windows, and the hulk of the attached barn could be seen just to the right of it. It stood lonely among the hills that backed it, an edifice that promised a brief respite from the road. Rook had stopped here briefly with Gus before, just long enough to change the horses and get on their way, but this time was different.

He noted the sturdy construction of the place, a building that’d been put together with purpose and forethought instead of slapped together with whatever materials had been at hand. It faced the road and had its back to the hillsides, a decent defensive position should the need arise. The pure isolation of the place was highlighted as the snow drowned out even the closest trees and rocks, and that made the back of Rook’s neck prickle with unease.

On the porch, a lantern glowed. It wasn’t yet night, but the snow had obliterated so much sun that the lantern became a beacon for them. Gus hurried the team forward, and as they drew closer Rook realized that the lantern wasn’t simply hanging from the porch railing. A woman stood there, holding it high, her arm steady. Her shoulders were straight and firm, and she watched the coach come in with a determination that suggested it was only through her sheer willpower that they’d made it at all.

Gus careened to a stop just in front of the porch, the coach leaving deep ruts in the newly fallen snow. He touched the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.”

She returned his nod but didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Let’s get everyone inside. You can pull straight into the barn. The aisle is wide enough for the coach. I’ll open the doors for you in a moment.”

“No need for that.” Rook jumped down from the driver’s box, his boots landing softly in the fluffy white stuff. It wasn’t his job to act as a footman, but he wanted these passengers out of the carriage and into the house as quickly as possible. There was still a chance, even if it was slight, that the bandits could come back. He began untying the thick leather straps that held the passengers’ luggage to the top of the coach. “I’ll get the barn door.”

“That’s kind of you.” She began ushering the passengers inside.

The salesman hurried from the coach into the house as though afraid of the snow, still clutching his case to his chest.

Next came the elderly couple. The man, tall and slim, turned to help his wife out of the carriage. Her narrow fingers held his hand tightly, her entire body shivering. “I’m afraid my wife has a fever,” the man explained.

“Let’s get her in quickly, then,” the station keeper replied, concern creasing her forehead. “The fire’s going there in the parlor, and there are blankets in the trunk.”

As Rook hauled the last case from the roof, the well-dressed man finally emerged. He unfolded his long legs from the coach, stood up, and took a moment to straighten his hat and suit. As he did, he tipped his head back to survey the station, the barn, and the surrounding land. Snow salted the dark fabric of his clothes, but he didn’t seem to notice. He ascended the porch steps and nodded politely to the station keeper. “Horace Penner of the Continental and Pacific Railway. Pleased to meet you. This a very nice place you have here,” he said in a smooth voice with a slight Southern accent. “I do hope the weather breaks and you have some time to show it to me in some more detail.”

Her face remained straight and hard. “Right now, I think it’s best that we get everyone inside.”

He gave her another polite nod and an ingratiating smile. “As you wish, madam.”

Rook spotted the very brief look of annoyance that she cast after him as he went in the door before she turned to look at him. “Take this. You’ll need it at the barn.” She handed him the lantern.

He reached out and took it from her, the handle already chilly through his gloves. Their eyes met briefly, and he recognized something in those dark brown irises. For a moment he thought it was fear, but no. It was knowledge, the kind of tension that came from facing threats all around. Her eyes flicked out to the snow that swirled all around the station and was beginning to build up around the stairs. There was another piece of knowledge that they both shared. This storm would keep them trapped here.

Rook took the lantern and led the way to the barn.

Chapter Two

Lillian Hart closed the door firmly against the coming storm. Her fingers automatically went to the lock, but she pulled them back. The driver and the guard were still out there in the weather, so that would have to wait.

She turned to the folks assembled in her front parlor, already counting and rationing in the back of her mind before she even spoke.

“It looks like we’re going to be here for the duration,” the elderly man said, his hands on his wife’s shivering shoulders.

“Yes, and I think we ought to start by figuring out where each of you are going to stay. You and your wife can have the largest room, which is right off the kitchen. That way you’ll be closest to the fire and to any supplies that you might need.”

“That’s kind of you. I’m Pierce Morrison, by the way, and this is Sallie.”

Sallie lifted kind eyes to Lillian. “I’m sorry that I’m not meeting you under better circumstances.”

Lillian could see the fever in the poor woman’s eyes and hoped she would pull through. There was no summoning a doctor in this weather. “That’s quite all right. You just let me know if there’s anything at all you need. Now then.” She turned to the rest of her guests, ready to continue her duties.

“You know, I might be able to help.” The skinny man with dark hair had been nervous ever since he’d walked in the door. He lingered awkwardly in the room before she invited him to sit down, and even once he did he still kept that odd little suitcase pressed against him.

Now, however, he sprang to his feet and popped open the latches, revealing an array of small bottles. “My name is Conrad Carbey, with Carbey Chemical Company. We offer all kinds of perfumes, health elixirs, and cleaning products. Mrs. Morrison, this vitamin tonic could be just what you need to get back on your feet.”

Despite her fever, Mrs. Morrison quickly shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“I understand,” Conrad said. “It’s new. It’s different. It’s not the same old medicine that you’re used to, but that’s precisely why you should try it! The Carbey Chemical Company prides itself on making only the best tonics and elixirs, and we have clients all over the country who are clamoring to get their hands on these little bottles. How lucky are you?”

“Not lucky enough,” Mr. Morrison grumbled. “Son, I understand you’re trying to make a buck, but this isn’t the time to do it.”

“Perhaps we can look at these another time,” Lillian added, her gut telling her that the zealous salesman wasn’t going to take a flat no for an answer. “You can take the middle room upstairs. Your samples will be very safe up there.”

Regret tweaked Conrad’s mouth downward for a moment. “Thank you kindly. Perhaps when we’re done with this ordeal, I can pay you for my lodgings with one of our excellent perfumes. They’re said to be superior even to those made by French perfumers.”

She gently touched his arm as she guided him to the stairs. “The middle room. You can’t miss it. You should get yourself cleaned up while I figure out some supper for everyone.”

“I’m so sorry that you had to deal with that.” Horace Penner, the man who’d introduced himself immediately upon arrival, had been observing everyone else in the room while leaning against the mantel. Now he detached himself and came strolling slowly over. “I’m afraid the trip here has that poor gentleman on edge, and he simply can’t stop talking.”

“That’s all right. You can take the room to the right of his.” Lillian was counting and recounting her guests, and she was coming up short every time. She took in the expensive clothing of his suit. He looked like the type who stayed in fancy hotels instead of stagecoach stations. “I’m afraid the accommodations aren’t very luxurious, but they’ll keep you out of the weather.”

“Oh, now. I see.” Horace let out a small laugh as he stroked the side of his dark blonde mustache and looked down at himself. “You look at me and you think I must require something more than what you’ve got here. I assure you, ma’am, I’m really quite a humble man. I’m just happy to be here, and I’m really quite interested in your little station. I’d like to know more about it.”

“There’s not much to know,” she said firmly. There was something about him that set her teeth on edge.

The door opened just then. The wind jerked the knob out of Gus’s hand and sent it slamming against the wall, shivering on its hinges. Gus hurried in to grab it, putting his shoulder against it to push it shut. “Woo-ee! This is going to be a bad one. I’ve never been so happy to see your station, Lillian.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t get here any later than you did.” That was true of the storm, but also of the timing of Gus’s entrance. He and his guard had just saved her from having to speak to Horace any longer than she already had.

“Horses are safe in the barn,” Gus reported. “It looked like your others were ready for the evening meal, so we gave them some oats while we were out there.”

“Thank you. That saves me a trip into the snow. Gus, I was just trying to figure out where everyone is going to sleep. I’ve got one room left upstairs…” She trailed off as her eyes met that of the guard’s. He’d been standing silently by this whole time, his green eyes taking in every aspect of the room. “I’m sorry. What was your name?”

Now those green eyes flicked straight over to her and held her eyes steady for a moment. “Silas McKenna,” he said quietly, his voice clipped, almost reluctant. “Most people call me Rook.”

“He can take the last room,” Gus announced, thumbing over his shoulder at Rook. “He’s the only reason we’re here safe and sound, really. We had some damn bandits coming after us at the canyon. Pardon my language, Lillian.”

“That’s all right. But what about you, Gus? I’ve still got to put you up somewhere.” He was one of the regular drivers who Lillian had seen plenty of times on his way through. Gus was friendly and always a bit chatty, which made him very memorable. The guard, though, was a mystery. She began recalculating where to put everyone, trying to make accommodations. “Perhaps if the Morrisons take my room—”

“No, no.” Gus plunked his small leather bag down in the corner of the parlor. “Don’t you worry about any of that. I’m comfortable anywhere, and right here suits me fine. I’ll keep my toes warm by the fire, and I’ll let Rook here deal with that narrow bed.” He chucked his fist against Rook’s shoulder and laughed.

“If you’re sure. I’m going to see about getting some supper put together. You’re all welcome to go clean up, and I’ll let you know when the meal is ready.” As Lillian moved toward the kitchen, she could see that the door was already open a crack.

Hester Pike, Lillian’s cook and helper at the station, backed up quickly so that the door wouldn’t hit her as it swung open. “That’s quite a little crowd we’ve got! I don’t think I’ve seen that many people here all at once since…since…ever!”

“I know.” Lillian immediately went to the pantry. “I told Edward when he first designed and built this place that we’d never need that many rooms. We’re too close to the Valley to get many overnight visitors. People would rather get a little further on their way to Cheyenne before they stop.”

“Perhaps he was predicting a blizzard just like this!” Hester said gleefully. “Full rooms mean more money.”

“I don’t know that I can really charge them.” Lillian sorted through the pantry. Lord knew she needed to charge every penny that those rooms were worth to make up for all the food and supplies these guests would undoubtedly use. “It doesn’t seem right, given that they don’t have a choice.”

“I suppose that’s true, although that finely dressed gentleman looks more than capable of paying,” Hester noted.

“I’m not sure it’s worth the coins.” Lillian sighed as she began pulling items out of the pantry. “Do you think we can make this work?”

Hester nodded. “Yes. I already had some stew going, so we can just add to it. We’ll have some supper on the table in no time!”

Lillian had often been grateful for Hester’s bright and energetic attitude, and she especially was now. It made all the difference as they baked up some fresh bread rolls and potatoes to serve alongside the stew. Hester even managed to put together a small pot of chicken soup especially for Sallie.

She soon called everyone into the dining room, where the guests sat down with her and Hester to eat. The Morrisons, however, elected to eat in the privacy of their room so that Sallie could rest.

“Lovely food as always, Hester!” Gus enthused. “You certainly know what you’re doing in that kitchen. Isn’t that right, Rook?”

Rook nodded his thanks to Hester, but he mostly remained quiet. Those green eyes were moving again, roving over the windows, looking at the doors that led into other rooms, paying attention to the other guests. Eventually those eyes made their way back to Lillian.

She held them, but then her gaze dropped to the jagged scar just above his jawline. The pale marks looked like a simple drawing of a mountain range set against the darker stubble that grew around it. It was the sort of scar that came from violence, not a mere accident. Rook turned away.

“I believe I heard you say you work for the railroad?” Conrad asked Horace. “My, what a lucky man you are! Right there in the middle of technological innovation! It seems they’re improving so quickly that one can hardly keep up.”

Horace smiled, seemingly pleased that someone appreciated his line of work. “Yes, sir. It’s the very future of our country, and it’s part of all of our destinies. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss—or is it Mrs.?—Hart?”

She’d barely been paying attention, not interested in much that Mr. Penner had to say. She was only thinking about how to ensure everyone stayed fed and warm, especially when she had no idea just how long it’d be before the roads would clear up again. “Hm? Mrs. And I suppose, although I have to say traveling by coach seems like a much better idea to me.”

Gus laughed out loud. “As it should!”

When the dinner dishes had been cleared away and Hester was happily humming to herself as she washed them up in the kitchen, Lillian was left to wipe down the dining table and sweep the floor. The night was winding down, and she looked forward to slipping between her flannel sheets.

“Can I help you with anything?” a polite voice asked.

Her shoulders stiffened at hearing Mr. Penner, whom she thought had gone up to bed. “No, that’s all right. I’ve got it.”

“But I see you’re running this place all by yourself,” Horace persisted in that drawl of his. “I mean, you have your cook, but I don’t see anyone around to tend to the livestock or repair the building.”

Her hand tightened around her washrag. “My husband Edward passed away three years ago from pneumonia.” Lillian didn’t want to tell this stranger about her business, but it was a well-known fact around the area. Horace could find out whether she wanted him to or not.

“Well, well. That’s quite the burden that’s been left on you.” Horace folded his forearms on the back of a chair. “You know, the railroad has been known to make some very generous offers to people such as yourself. They need land to lay the tracks, and they’ve got to get it from somewhere. This isn’t a bad spot. I could talk to some people at the Continental and Pacific and see what I could do for you.”

He was between the table and the wall, forcing her to squeeze around behind him if she was going to get the whole table clean. “I’m not interested in selling.”

As she rounded the edge of the table, she looked through the wide doorway that separated the parlor and the dining room. Rook was there by the front window. His eyes were in the distance, but the set of his jaw made her wonder if his attention was right here in the station. His wide shoulders were tense, and the few gray strands of hair that showed at his temples stood out in the firelight.

“But winter is an especially dangerous time for a woman to be here all on her own,” Horace objected. “If you don’t starve, you might freeze. And if the roads are bad enough, nobody will find out until spring.”

A slight movement made her look at Rook again, although she kept her head bent so that Horace might not see. The guard had tightened his jaw enough now that his scar was beginning to whiten. His nostrils flared, and his hand rested on the butt of his sidearm.

Despite the perilous picture that Horace was trying to paint, Lillian didn’t have any interest in giving up what she and Edward had worked so hard to have. “I do just fine, and I’m quite close with the rest of the community around here,” she replied, lifting her chin and giving Horace a level gaze to let him know she meant it.

“Suit yourself.” He put his hands in the air as though her fate was her own now. “It’s just in my nature to help a woman in need when I see one.”

“I’m sure.” Lillian rinsed out her rag and dried her hands. “If you’ll excuse me, I think it’s about time that I turn in.”

She moved through the station, securing it for the night. Lillian checked the locks on all the windows and doors, and then she checked them again.

“Worried about intruders?”

Lillian jumped. She hadn’t even heard Rook come up behind her. “Just being cautious, that’s all. I’ve heard there’s a lot of interest in the properties around here, and as your friend pointed out, I’m here all by myself most of the time.”

“He’s not my friend,” the guard replied briskly. “I think I’ll take a quick look outside, if you don’t mind. Make sure the horses are secure in the barn.”

Lillian considered this for a moment. She didn’t know if she could trust Rook any more than she could Horace, but the idea of someone taking a few moments to patrol the outside of the building could help set her mind at ease for the night. “All right. I’ll listen for you and let you back in.”

While she waited, Lillian went to her room. She turned down the bed and laid out her things for the next day. She then stepped to the window, peering out at the vast coat of snow that lay thick over her land. It reflected and enhanced what little moonlight shone through the clouds. She watched as Rook emerged from the barn. He moved through the snow with a predatory grace, seemingly unbothered by the vast amounts of snow that were still whirling down from the sky.

Her eyes traveled to the left, examining a long dark line of footprints in the snow. Everyone was inside the station other than Rook, so why was there an extra set of footprints near the barn? Lillian shook her head. It was getting late, and she’d already been through a lot that day. Worrying wasn’t going to help.

Chapter Three

Rook rose from the narrow bed the next morning, although he wasn’t sure that he’d slept very much. His mind kept wrestling with that innate sense that something wasn’t right, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. Pulling aside the curtain, he took a small amount of solace in the fact that the snow had continued to pile up overnight. It’d been blown up against the side of the barn and the station. Rook couldn’t see the road through the thick swirls that continued to come down, but even if he could, he didn’t think it would be passable. They couldn’t leave, but that meant nobody new could arrive, either.

As he came downstairs, he discovered that the rest of the guests were feeling the tension as well.

Conrad Carbey paced in front of the big window in the parlor. “When do you think we can get going again?”

Gus, his hair still rumpled from sleep, chuckled. “Don’t you have eyes, boy? The snow is up to the window. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon. You might as well relax.”

“Relax? How can I relax when I’m missing so many important appointments?” Conrad asked. “The Carbey Chemical Company prides itself on getting its products to its clients in a timely manner. I’ve got people who’ve been waiting weeks for me to arrive in this area, just hoping they can get their hands on our patented products.”

Gus, noting Rook’s arrival, rolled his eyes. “I think people have other priorities right now.”

Sitting close to the fire, Sallie Morrison coughed delicately into her handkerchief. It quickly grew from a few subtle coughs to a full fit, and her husband rubbed her back gently. “We’re all impatient for the snow to melt, Mr. Carbey, but we ought to be grateful that we have a roof over our heads.”

“And for the excellent food.” Horace Penner had just come down the stairs, dressed in a crisp suit. His hair and mustache were carefully combed, and he beamed widely as he addressed everyone in the room. “I haven’t tasted it yet, but I could smell it all the way upstairs in my room. When do we eat?”

Lillian had just stepped into the room as well, entering from the kitchen. She carried a mug of hot tea and brought it straight to Sallie. “I found some honey to put in it. That should help your cough. Are you warm enough?”

Sallie took the mug gratefully. “Thank you, and yes.”

Rook lingered in the corner of the room, watching Penner as he watched Lillian. The big grin had faded from the railroad man’s face as soon as he didn’t think anyone was looking at him. There was a hardness in his eyes as he studied Lillian’s movements.

His smile returned as soon as Lillian straightened. “We’re so very fortunate to have a lovely host such as yourself. Is there any way that I could be of assistance?”

“Breakfast is ready for anyone who’d like to come to the dining room,” Lillian said, brushing off Horace’s question and addressing the group as a whole instead. “Mr. and Mrs. Morrison, I can bring your meal to you right there, if you’d like.”

As his wife shivered and drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders, Pierce nodded. “I think that would be best.”

The rest of the group moved into the dining room, where Hester was putting a large boat of gravy in the center of the table. “Come and sit down! I’ve just got to bring out the coffee.”

“How you do spoil us!” Horace told her. “Why, Hester, I think your talents are wasted out here in the middle of nowhere. You ought to have a bakery of your own in a bustling boomtown somewhere, some place where your delicious food can bring comfort to more than just a handful of people at a time.”

“Me?” Hester laughed. “If my gray hair hasn’t tipped you off, Mr. Penner, I’m a little too old to be starting up a whole new business. Especially a busy one.”

“The two of you could do it together,” Horace proposed, roping Lillian into his fantasy. “You’re already a wonderful team, and you could even hire a young girl or two to do all the running. It could be a rather nice setup.”

Having checked over the table one last time, Lillian finally sat down. “I appreciate your interest in our success, Mr. Penner, but that’s not something I’m interested in doing.”

“Please, call me Horace,” he insisted. “We’re all friends here, or at least we’ll have to be by the time we’re finally able to dig out!” He laughed loudly, but his jest only earned a few small chuckles from the other guests.

The food was truly delicious, and Rook couldn’t remember ever having a biscuit that tasted better or was fluffier. The experience was tainted, however, by the way Lillian watched the basket of biscuits disappear. She carefully spooned just enough gravy onto her plate and not a drop more. The concern was evident in her face when the platter of sausages began to dwindle and the guests were still eating.

When they were through, Conrad followed Hester into the kitchen. “You should let me show you some of our cleaning products. You’ll never have to worry about stubborn stains on your apron again!”

Meanwhile, Lillian was bundling up near the door.

“Going out?” Rook asked.

“Unless we want to freeze, yes,” she replied as she tied her bonnet on tightly under her chin. “We’re nearly out of firewood in here, and it’ll need a little time to dry out.”

Rook noted that as eager as Horace always pretended to be to help, he was suddenly nowhere around once the hard labor began. Rook shrugged on his coat and followed her out the door. They walked over to the neat cords of firewood stacked up under an overhang attached to the back of the house.

Lillian set down the firewood carrier and began stacking split logs into it. “I should thank you for your help when those bandits showed up. When the weather is clear, I can see quite a ways from the upper floor of the station. I’m sure if you hadn’t scared them off, they’d have come for me next.”

“Precisely what Horace seems concerned about,” Rook noted as he piled wood into the crook of his left arm. He admired how quickly Lillian was able to fill the carrier, skipping over the logs at the top of the pile that had more snow stuck to them. Her hands and arms were strong and efficient, a contrast to the soft delicacy of her face.

She scoffed a little as she filled the carrier and then began stacking wood in the crook of her arm as well. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who actually knows anything about danger. I highly doubt he did anything to help you with those bandits.”

Rook tried to suppress the smile that threatened his lips. In fact, Horace had been more concerned about a pleasurable ride than whether or not they’d make it safely to their next stop. “Not exactly, no.”

“Is that something you have to deal with very often as a guard?” Her arm full, Lillian reached for the carrier.

He grabbed it before she could, bringing in the heavier load and leaving her hand free to get the door. “Some routes are a little more susceptible than others, but it’s always a possibility.”

They made their way inside the kitchen door, where the firewood was kept to feed the stove in here and the fireplace in the parlor. Rook could hear Conrad now in the dining room with Hester, insisting that the Carbey Chemical Company’s fine wood polish would make the table gleam.

“That’s quite a job to take on,” Lillian noted. “A coach guard, I mean. You hear all kinds of stories about people getting held up along the way, and sometimes even having a guard isn’t enough.”

He nodded his agreement. “If you know what you’re doing and you’re always looking ahead, then you have a better chance.”

With her arms free, she grabbed several empty buckets and stepped back outside. “I suppose that could be the motto of the frontier. You have to look ahead to get a better chance of survival. You have to see the danger before it gets to you, whether it’s a blizzard like this or a drought in the summer. Anticipating the worst makes it more survivable.”

“That’s very wise.” In fact, Rook was noticing just how wise Lillian was in these manners. She was a woman alone with only her cook to help her, but she was no fool.

“It’s what Edward used to say,” she told him as they headed to the well. “My late husband.”

“And did he follow it?” Rook asked, unsure of how much pain Lillian still suffered for his death. He’d overheard her telling Horace that Edward had died of pneumonia.

She chipped the ice off the mouth of the spigot with a quick jerk of her hand, and it disappeared into the thick fluff of snow. Lillian then used her foot to sweep the snow off the small square of bricks just below the spigot so that she had a place to set the bucket. “He tried, at least. You can’t see everything coming, though.”

Rook ran his fingers along the scar on his jaw and then quickly jerked his hand away before Lillian could see. “No, you sure can’t.”

They took turns with the spigot, filling all the buckets. The first round of them went to the barn to water the horses, and the second round went into the station for the guests. The two of them mostly worked in silence now as the wind picked up again. He was surprised that she spoke to him at all. Most passengers ignored the guard entirely, seeing him as nothing more than someone there to do a job if they saw him at all.

He watched the house and guests as they moved in and out, wondering if all of them getting stranded here at this particular time was perhaps more orchestrated than it seemed.

“You know what you’re doing,” he said when they came inside for the last time and stripped off their coats, leaving them near the door to drip dry. “Were you raised out here?”

“Far from it,” she said with a laugh as she sat down to pick the ice away from her bootlaces. “I’m from Philadelphia. Edward was, too. He had a dream to come out West, though.”

“Wanted to make his fortune?” Rook guessed. He’d encountered many such men, and he’d accompanied plenty of them on the stagecoaches as they made their way out to the boomtowns or the newest edge of the frontier. All of them were convinced that abundant riches waited for them if only they went to the right place at the right time, but plenty of them came away disappointed.

“He wouldn’t have turned it down, but it was about more than money to him.” She smiled as she yanked off her boot and set it near the door. “For Edward, this station was about adventure, about doing our part to support and expand the frontier. He couldn’t stand sitting in our little place back in Philadelphia and just reading about it all in the papers. He wanted to get out here and get his hands dirty.”

“That’s admirable.”

“What about you? Is that what brought you out here?”

Rook had been enjoying their conversation, but suddenly he realized he was at risk of saying too much. “Not exactly.”

Conrad saved him by following Hester back into the kitchen. “I’m truly sorry about that. I’ll be sure to report back to headquarters about the finish on the table. That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sure we can arrange to get it refinished!”

Hester whirled and put her finger in his face. “I should hope so! It melted the lacquer right off! If that’s what your little potions do to a table, I’d hate to think what they do to a person! Just imagine if Sallie had taken some of your elixir!”

Conrad went a little green and continued to grovel.

Later that evening, the storm lifted briefly. For a change, icy chips of snow weren’t tapping incessantly at the windows. In his room, Rook looked out across the lonely hillsides behind the station. There, in the far distance, a spark of orange. Then another, not far from the first. Campfires. Nobody should be out in the weather, and anyone who’d been caught in it had by now had time to get to safety. This could only mean one thing.

Someone was watching the station.