“And here, take this too.” She thrust a plant in a tiny glass jar into his free hand. “It’s holly,” she said as he held it up to examine the sharp green leaves and shiny red berries. “For the Christmas season. I ordered it special from back East. Tell Tilly to plant it outside once the ground thaws in spring. Once you have your own home, of course.”
“Thank you,” Liam said. “I’ll pass that along.”
“And please tell Tilly to come by and visit me any time. She can fill me in on all the happenings back in Kansas. It’ll be like going home again.” Mrs. Wright smiled at him.
“I will.”
He said goodbye and stood uncertainly in front of their home for a moment. He’d thought he might stop by the land office, or perhaps pay a visit to the saloon to speak with Mac Allen as a potential investor. But now he was carrying a tiny holly plant, which made him feel somewhat ridiculous.
There was nothing else to do but go back to the hotel.
And his wife.
Liam squared his shoulders and took a deep breath of the freezing air. He was acting like a scared little boy. He’d made this decision, as rash as it was, and it wouldn’t do to cower from it. Besides, Tilly was probably just as uncertain as he was. It was unkind to leave her alone so quickly after their wedding.
And if they were going to be married, he needed to spend the time getting to know her.
He smiled at that as he moved down the sidewalk, past busy storefronts and offices and half-constructed homes.
Ducking around a line of men that extended out of a building with no identification on its exterior yet, Liam caught sight of someone who looked familiar.
His breath caught in his throat, and he almost dropped the little holly plant into the muddy street. He squinted through the snow, which had slowed down but had turned into larger flakes.
The man had been moving toward the doorway of Fred Polson’s Boardinghouse.
Hurrying quickly around the line and back onto the sidewalk, Liam balanced the plant in the crook of his elbow as he reached for the door to the boardinghouse.
Inside, it was as dark as if it were evening. Liam blinked into the shadows. The place smelled smoky, musty, and like burnt food, all at the same time. Thanks to Gilbert’s kindness, he and Tilly hadn’t found themselves staying here. He looked around quickly, searching for a broad man with blond hair and no hat. One who carried a cane although he seemed to have no discernible use for it.
But the only eyes he met were those belonging to a pair of weedy-looking fellows leaning against the wall nearby. They eyed him curiously.
“Pardon me,” he said. “Did a man come through this door just a moment ago? Fair hair with a cane?”
One of the men looked at the other, who shrugged. “Don’t much matter to us who comes in and out of here,” the second man said.
Liam swallowed his irritation. Of course it wouldn’t, not unless he tossed a coin or two the man’s way.
He shook his head. “It isn’t important. Good day.”
It was his imagination, he decided as he stepped back out into the clean, cold air. So much had changed over the past day that his mind was reeling.
There was no other reason why he could have thought he’d seen Dutch Rodgers strolling into Crest Stone’s worst boardinghouse.
Chapter Ten
