"I can tolerate almost everything else, but by God, what's mine stays mine."
"Like your knife," she agreed. "The one you left on the nightstand in Cincinnati so I'd know you wouldn't give up looking for the twins."
"Yes," he agreed. "Come here, Mrs. Ross."
She stepped into his arms and hugged him. His chin dropped to rest on the top of her head.
"Men are coming tomorrow," he began. "Your uncle sent them."
He tightened his hold on her and explained what he and Hunter were going to do. He promised he would force them to leave. He didn't add the fact that they were gunfighters.
Taylor didn't let the twins out of her sight from that moment on. The weather cooperated with her plan to keep them inside. It rained most of the morning and half the afternoon.
Lucas came home at sundown. He told her the men had left. They wouldn't be coming back.
Frank gave her more details the following Sunday when she went into town to read the paper for the men.
"They both knew who Lucas and Hunter were," Frank told her. "They weren't about to go up against them. They were talkative, too. Seems your uncle was going to pay a premium for the return of his nieces."
"Lucas and I have legal custody now," Taylor blurted out.
Frank hurried to soothe her. "We know you do. None of us will sit idle if anyone else comes looking. Don't worry, Taylor."
Roily listened to the conversation and then took her aside. "I got a little present for you," he whispered. "I just finished it." She thought it was a cradle.
An hour later, Roily carried the gift out to the house. She was extremely appreciative and only laughed because she was filled with such joy, she assured the giant. Then she led the way inside and chose a spot for her third rocking chair.
She insisted on paying. He insisted once again that it was a gift. The chairs were placed in a half circle in front of the hearth. Roily wasn't in a hurry to leave. The twins were down for their naps, Victoria was outside arguing with Hunter about something or other, and Lucas had taken his son hunting.
Taylor invited Roily to sit for a spell. He settled himself in one of the rockers. She offered him a cool drink, but he declined the offer.
"Is there something you wanted to ask me?" she prodded.
He nodded. "I'm getting ready," he told her.
It took him over twenty minutes to get his question stated. They both rocked back and forth in their chairs while she waited and he worried.
He finally blurted it out. Roily wanted to learn how to read.
Taylor was astonished and pleased. He was embarrassed and worried sick someone would find out. If anyone snickered at him for being an old fool and trying to better himself, well then he'd have to kill him, wouldn't he?
She assured him that no one would laugh, and when he didn't believe her, she finally promised to keep his secret. She wouldn't tell anyone, not even her husbandi
"It's time for Daniel to learn how to read," she said. "I could sit down between the two of you and-"
Roily didn't want anyone, not even a seven-year-old, watching him struggle. He suggested she teach her son at night and tutor him during the noon hour when he closed his shop for supper. Taylor asked him to consider working together from one until two every afternoon because the twins napped then and it would be easier for her to slip away.
They began their lessons the very next day. Taylor told everyone she was going to stretch her legs and walk into town to say hello to Frank. She didn't want to lie, and so each day she walked in the front door of the general store and called out the greeting as she hurried down the main aisle and went out the back door. She passed through the store an hour later on her way back home. Frank must have thought she was out of her mind. She always gave him the same excuse, that she was out for a brisk walk because it was such a fine day, and he always gave her a look that told her he thought she was damned odd.
Teaching Roily was a challenge and a joy and a delight, for he was eager to learn and really quite intelligent. It was also a respite for Taylor, as it was the only time during the day that she was able to sit down. Roily appreciated the effort she made to help him. Lucas didn't appreciate anything she did. He didn't seem to even notice the rigid schedule she was maintaining. Her husband became more and more distant and withdrawn. Taylor believed he was finally realizing the burden he'd taken on. She fretted and she worried, and every morning before she groaned her way out of bed, she said a prayer for patience.
Callaghan was getting ready to leave. He told the family he could hear the mountain calling to him, and while he'd enjoyed Taylor's hospitality, he'd done enough talking and visiting. He wanted his solitude and his privacy back. He told Daniel he felt free and at peace when he was standing on top of a peak looking down on God's paradise.
Taylor was going to miss Callaghan, but she knew it was time for him to leave. He was wearing on Lucas's nerves. Her husband hated to listen to the stories he told after supper. Most of them centered around a mountain man named Montana. Lucas would scowl at the mere mention of the man's name and leave the house. His reaction always caused Callaghan to slap his knee and let out a hoot of laughter.
Exhaustion was taking its toll on Taylor. She was so tense and worried and so sick with her pretense of being strong all the time, inside she felt as though she were going to explode. When things became too difficult, she would grab her bucket, tell whoever was listening that she was going to fetch water, and hurry to a secluded spot by the stream and cry until the tension let up. Sometimes she went for water three times in a single day.
Lucas was unknowingly pushing her toward her breaking point. It had become a ritual for him to warn her every evening that they were still going to leave in the fall. She interpreted his reminder to mean that she had yet to convince him she had the skill and the stamina to live in the wilderness. And so the next day she tried a little harder and worked a little longer, and the next day and the next and the next…
He had his ritual, and she had her obsession. She was determined to get him to start treating her like a wife. She wanted him to talk to her about his hopes, his dreams, his worries, and his past. She hungered for him to share with her a little remembrance from his past, and God only knew she tried to get him to talk. Yet no matter how innocuous her questions were, he still gave her only one-word answers. He seemed determined to hold a part of himself back, and she couldn't understand why.
Nothing seemed to be going smoothly. She'd been engaged in a battle of wills with the twins for over a week now. Victoria assured her she was making progress. Taylor wasn't convinced. When Allie or Georgie misbehaved, Taylor sat her down on one of the steps leading up to the loft and made her stay there until she promised to do what she was told. The first few times Georgie was put on the step, she didn't seem to mind at all. Then Taylor started ignoring her while she was being punished. She refused to talk to the child and wouldn't let anyone else speak to her either. It didn't take long for Georgie to realize it wasn't any fun to be left out. By Friday, she hated the punishment and was finally beginning to stay off the kitchen table and leave her sister's food alone.
Allie was far more difficult to discipline. She seemed to enjoy sitting on the step. She enjoyed crying, too. Her screams were ear piercing and Taylor was soon clenching her teeth together. She pretended to ignore the child. She acted as though the shrill noise didn't bother her at all. Allie was far more stubborn than she was. If Taylor went outside, the screaming stopped. Yet as soon as she came back inside, the child started up again. Allie apparently wanted an audience.