Texas Cinderella. Winnie Griggs

Walker pointed a fork at her. “I look forward to it.”

      The conversation moved on to safe, mundane topics for a few minutes, then Mrs. Flanagan circled back around to her probing questions. “Seems to me, if raising horses is something you aim to work at, that there’s lots of good places around here just perfect for a horse ranch.”

      Cassie Lynn cringed at the woman’s continued probing. Was this her fault? Was Mrs. Flanagan trying to convince the man to stay in town because she’d shown an interest in him?

      She saw a small tic at the corner of Mr. Walker’s jaw, but when he spoke his tone was controlled. “Thank you, but as I said, I’ve put those plans on hold for now.”

      Then he turned the tables on her. “Mind if I ask how you hurt your leg?”

      Cassie Lynn paused midbite. Mrs. Flanagan hated when anyone pointed out her infirmity. And Cassie Lynn had a feeling Mr. Walker knew that.

      There was a tense moment of silence as the two at either end of the table stared each other down.

      Then Mrs. Flanagan gave a nod, acknowledging Mr. Walker’s point, and answered his question. “I fell off a ladder when I was trying to prune a tree out back.” Then she turned to Noah. “Tell me, young man, are you as fond of horses as your uncle?”

      Cassie saw the self-satisfied glint in Mr. Walker’s eye. Apparently he’d figured out something she’d learned, as well. The best way to deal with Mrs. Flanagan’s pushy manner was to meet it head-on.

      When he turned her way, he seemed abashed to find her watching him. Her nod of approval a heartbeat later also seemed to momentarily startle him. Then he returned her smile with a conspiratorial one of his own, and her breath caught as she once more felt that connection with him, as if they were longtime friends. His smile deepened as he apparently noted her reaction and she felt the warmth rise in her cheeks. She quickly turned away, busying herself with passing another piece of bread to Noah.

      As the conversation flowed around the table, Cassie Lynn suddenly realized Pru wasn’t participating. Hoping to find a way to draw the girl in, she turned to her and only then noticed that Pru was picking at her food without really eating much of anything. Was there something more than shyness at work here?

      Concerned, she leaned closer and asked quietly, “Are you all right, Pru?”

      Pru gave her an embarrassed look and nodded. “I’m just not very hungry,” she said softly.

      Cassie Lynn patted the child’s leg. “That’s fine. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.”

      The girl nodded and broke off a small piece of bread to nibble on, as if to prove she was all right.

      But apparently Mr. Walker had noticed. His expression concerned, he leaned toward his niece. “What’s the matter, Pru?”

      “I’m just not very hungry,” she said again.

      Cassie Lynn frowned. There seemed to be more than a lack of appetite going on with the girl. She was pale and her eyes had a slightly glazed look.

      Placing her hand on Pru’s forehead, Cassie Lynn shot Mr. Walker a worried glance. “She’s running a fever.”

      He immediately pushed away from the table. “If you ladies will excuse our early departure, I should take her back to the hotel, where she can lay down.”

      Cassie Lynn moved her hand to the girl’s shoulder and stood. “Perhaps it would be better to have Doc Pratt take a look at her first.”

      “Absolutely.” Mrs. Flanagan’s tone brooked no argument. “Let her rest on the bed in the spare room while Cassie Lynn fetches the doctor.”

      Mr. Walker’s brows drew down. “I don’t want to put Miss Vickers out—”

      She gave him a smile. “Doc Pratt lives right next door, so it’s no trouble at all. It won’t take me but a few minutes to fetch him.” She stood and pointed to the doorway. “The spare room is down that hall, third door on the left. Why don’t you help Pru get comfortable and lie down, and I’ll be back faster than a squirrel can climb a tree.”

      Mr. Walker hesitated and she saw the worry in his expression. The poor man likely had very little experience with childhood illnesses. She impulsively touched his arm. “Children seem to get these fevers with vexing regularity. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but it’s always best to get a doctor to check it out if you can.”

      He nodded. “Very well. Thank you.”

      * * *

      Riley picked Pru up and carried her down the hall to the room Miss Vickers had indicated. The little girl snuggled up against his chest with touching trust. Why hadn’t he realized sooner that she was sick? Some guardian he was.

      He gave her a squeeze that he hoped was comforting. Comforting the way Miss Vickers’s touch on his arm had been.

      Shaking off that stray thought, he looked down at his niece. “Don’t worry, kitten, the doctor is going to come and fix you right up.”

      At least he sincerely hoped so.

      Riley set Pru on one of the two narrow beds in the room and helped her remove her shoes.

      His thoughts turned back to that fleeting touch Miss Vickers had given him. For just a moment there in the dining room, as she’d taken a moment to try to reassure him, he’d had a sense of what it would be like not to have to face all this on his own, to have someone at his side willing to support him in difficult times, willing to shoulder some of the responsibility.

      It had felt good.

      But it wasn’t real. That kind of relationship didn’t really exist, at least not for him.

      As promised, Miss Vickers was ushering the doctor into the room in a matter of minutes. The introductions were made quickly, then the white-haired physician turned to Pru with an avuncular smile.

      “Well now, young lady, I understand you’re not feeling well.”

      “No, sir.”

      “Let me just have a look at you and see if we can do something to make you feel better.” He turned to Riley. “Why don’t you wait in the parlor? Miss Vickers here will assist me.”

      Riley started to protest, but Miss Vickers took his arm and gently led him to the door. “Don’t worry, Doc Pratt knows what he’s doing. He’s been looking out for kids in this town since before I was born.”

      A moment later Riley found himself on the other side of a closed bedroom door. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he headed back down the hall.

      He found Noah and Mrs. Flanagan in the parlor.

      His nephew immediately popped up and rushed to him. “What did the doctor say? Is Pru gonna be okay?”

      Realizing Noah was remembering his mother’s illness and death, Riley placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Of course she is. You heard Miss Vickers—kids get sick all the time.”

      Noah seemed only partially reassured.

      Mrs. Flanagan spoke up then. “Your uncle is correct. I remember when my own two boys were little, they would get fevers and chills so often I near wore a path to Dr. Pratt’s place. And my John has grown up to be a fine soldier in the army.”

      “Your son’s a soldier?” Noah crossed back to Mrs. Flanagan.

      She nodded. “A lieutenant, actually.”

      “I have some tin soldiers.”

      “Do you now. John had a set, as well.”

      As Mrs. Flanagan began to regale Noah with stories of some of her sons’ exploits, Riley caught her eye and mouthed a heartfelt thank-you. The woman’s expression softened for a moment as she nodded, then she resumed her conversation with his nephew.

      While