“Is everything all right?” Sarah asked when she caught Tilly staring past the tree toward the front doors.
Tilly shook out her hands, trying to dispel her nerves. “I’m awaiting my husband’s return. He . . . he had a meeting with someone today that he was nervous about.”
“Oh? For his hotel?”
Tilly shook her head. “This is on another matter. How did you know about the hotel?” She hoped the woman wouldn’t be insulted that Liam wanted to create a competitor to the grand Crest Stone Hotel.
“It’s a small town,” Sarah said with a smile. “Word gets around quickly. Besides, I know his sister, Deirdre. It was a terrible thing that happened to her last summer.”
Tilly nodded and pressed her lips together as she adjusted an ornament on the tree. Although she was glad Liam hadn’t hidden the mistakes he’d made from her, something about the way everyone kept mentioning it made her stomach lurch.
What if he made another mistake—trusted the wrong people or didn’t think through his actions—and she found herself in Deirdre’s shoes?
No. He’d learned his lesson. Liam was so much more careful now, and he’d felt so badly about everything that had happened and how it had affected those he loved.
All she could hope was that Liam returned soon. And with the good news that Dutch Rodgers had already left town.
Chapter Seventeen
LIAM FINALLY FOUNDDutch Rodgers in the dining room at Fred Polson’s Boardinghouse. The man sat alone at a small table in the corner, away from the long trestle tables and benches in the middle of the large room. Liam patted the outline of the revolver he’d quietly borrowed from Jake Gilbert before striding into the room. He had no intention of using it, but its presence lent him reassurance.
He refused to be cowed by this man again.
Rodgers caught his eye a few steps before Liam arrived at his table. He didn’t slip away this time. Instead, the man leaned back in his chair and gave Liam an appraising look as his soup sat steaming on the table.
“Rodgers,” Liam said by way of greeting when he arrived at the table. Just saying the man’s name made him feel slightly ill. He laid a hand on the back of the empty chair in front of him, bending his fingers around the wood to steady the nerves that coursed through him.
“Liam Hannan.” Rodgers’ face split into a smile as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Even with a smile, he was intimidating. Liam wondered what it was like to walk around like that, knowing your very presence set men on edge.
“Sit, please.” Rodgers gestured to the empty chair.
It was the last thing Liam wanted to do, but he’d draw attention if he remained standing. So he sat on the edge of the chair, ready to leap up at a moment’s notice.
“Do you want something to eat? You’ll have to fetch it yourself. I’ll be honest, the food is rather lacking.”
“No, thank you.”
“That’s right, you’ve got the missus waiting on you for supper. I’ll bet she cooks up something nice, doesn’t she? Better than this slop.” Rodgers nudged the spoon in his bowl with the back of his hand.
Liam was hardly about to tell him they were staying at the hotel, although he imagined it wouldn’t be difficult for Rodgers to find out if he asked around. “She’s a fine cook,” he said, not knowing at all if that was true. But he didn’t come here for conversation. He came for answers. “Why are you in Crest Stone?”
“You’ve been busy since we last met,” Rodgers said, ignoring his question.
“Pardon me, sirs. Would you like some cookies? Fresh-baked by myself and my mama. They’re festive for the holiday.” A waifish girl who couldn’t be more than seventeen held out a basket filled with gingerbread cookies shaped like little men. “A nickel a piece.”
