Hannah had a stack of dinner plates in her hands. “Did you ask Mr. Wayne about the weather before you left?”
“No, I didn’t, but I most assuredly will seek him out the next time I go out Thunder Point way.” He plucked his damp collar away from his neck. Melting snow trickled down his spine. “What’s for dinner?”
“It’s bean soup,” said Hannah. “Ma started it and I’m keeping watch. Clay’s in here to annoy me.”
“That’s more or less Ham’s job. Where’s your mother?”
“In the sewing room.”
Roen nodded. Hannah had decided that the space formerly known as the workroom was now the sewing room when Lily occupied it and the study when he was in there. “Carry on.” He was opening the door to the sewing room when he heard them return to squabbling.
Lily looked over when Roen walked in. She was standing at the dress form, pinning a lace collar on the neckline of an ice blue satin bodice. “Why are you smiling?”
“Hannah and Clay are poking at each other.”
She sniffed the air. “Is anything burning?”
“No. At least not yet.”
Lily stepped away from the dress form and placed her pincushion on the table. There was more scrutiny in the way she looked Roen over this time. “You look awful. You’re wet through and through.”
“Damp.”
“Get out of those clothes and Clay can draw you a hot bath.”
“Dinner’s happening in the kitchen. The bath will have to wait.” He stopped her when she started to argue. “But I will get out of these clothes.” He kissed her on the cheek before he left. “Are you still thinking about what I said to you thismorning?” Then he laughed as she drove him out of the room with the skill of a wrangler.
•••
Roen was the third person to get the benefit of a hot bath, but since Lizzie and Hannah were the first two, the water was soapy but still relatively clean. Lily added hot water from the kettle moments before he folded himself into the large galvanized tub, so it was warm enough to suit him. She was already refilling the kettle while he was still trying to find the soap.
“I thought it floated,” he said.
“It does.” Lily looked down at him, shook her head, and directed him to lean forward. She plucked the bar from where it was hiding behind his back and put it in his hand then she sat at the table. “Warm enough?”
“Just.” The tub was close to the stove, and Clay had stuffed the firebox so heat emanated toward him in waves.
“You were quiet at dinner,” she said.
“Thinking.” He saw her blush in a way that could not be explained by the heat from the stove, and she shifted in her chair. “I wasn’t thinking aboutthat,” he said, “although I like it that you are.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her in a parody of wickedness.
“Stop that. You’re horrible.” When he offered her a contrite expression that she knew he didn’t mean, she gave up. “So what were you thinking about?”
Roen rubbed soap into the washcloth that Lily had set out for him and began to scrub. “I saw Ben this morning when I stopped by the hotel. He told me he’d seen an odd duck around town this past week and wondered if I’d seen him or maybe knew him. I told him I wasn’t expecting anyone from Northeast. Ben described the man as having no remarkable features, so it was entirely possible that I’d seen but hadn’t noticed him.”
“Why is Ben interested in him? Has he done something?”
“No. Ben says not. That’s what troubles him. He has no discernable occupation, and he isn’t looking for work. He’s not a salesman or a gambler or a reporter. He hasn’t inquired about property at the land office or shown an inclination to put out a shingle that would announce his business. He’s been a regular diner at the Butterworth, but he’s rooming at Mrs. Brady’s.Ben says he’s been to the bank several times that he knows of, but the manager and tellers weren’t particularly helpful because they don’t really remember him. He doesn’t have an account so there’s no record of transactions.”
“So our sheriff thinks this person is visiting the bank with the intention to rob it?”
“It’s a thought.” Roen bent his head and washed the back of his neck.
“It’s natural that Ben’s mind would veer in that direction. There was a robbery a few years back. He was in the bank when it happened and fortunate to walk out of it. Has he asked if the man has kin nearby?” Lily left the chair and knelt beside the tub. “Duck your head in the water. I’ll wash your hair.”
Roen complied. It was a tight fit, and when he came up, he shook his head like a puppy, spraying water droplets. The ones that hit the stove sizzled.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “I expect it from Ham.” Lily pushed his head down and began applying the soap. “So what about kin?”
