He was weak. Kate might be sympathetic, but how could she possibly think well of him now? Everything Lucy had said about him must be playing through her mind, reminding her of how terrible he really was.

Her hand patted his arm lightly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

He forced his eyes open, letting in the light. "I don't know why she left me." He shook away the image of his mother pinning his name to his coat before sending him inside the orphanage. "I was offered alcohol for the first time not long after I ran away from my second set of foster parents. Sobered up when I met God. Then after Lucy came, I went back to the bottle."

"Did you say you visited the orphanage? Did you learn anything about Anthony?"

He let a smile slip onto his lips at her change of subject. Whether she could tell he was uncomfortable with talking about his past or he was making her so, her focus on finding Anthony was endearing-even though it became more hopeless every day. "Yes, I visited the orphanage. Anthony hasn't been there." And the new owners hadn't found a single piece of paperwork on any boys named Silas.

"So what do we do now?"

He heaved a sigh and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Where were they going anyway? He pulled out the crumpled telegram. "Not much. I got another telegram. My friend says the man I had watch the place ransacked it before he left."

"Can't somebody else watch it for you-fix it up while you're gone?"

He shrugged. "Will won't let my animals die-the ones left, that is. But he's busy with his doctoring. I can't ask him to do more than that. The real question is, should I bother to stay?"

"Of course you should."

"What can I do here that you can't?"

She pressed her lips together and stared off into space. "What you're really asking is when do we give up?"

"I'll never give up wanting him back, never give up praying. If someone said they saw him somewhere, I'd be off in a heartbeat, but what's a man to do when his livestock needs feed and the last of his garden needs tending? When the ability to eat this winter's at stake?"

Silas joined her in looking out at nothing. So much easier to keep his voice in check if he wasn't looking into her eyes. "There're too many places he could be. He could've hopped a train to New York, hid in a wagon traveling to Arkansas, found work in a mill under an assumed name. He could be . . ." He didn't want to say the word, but he'd known for years Lucy could've died and he'd never have found out.

The black hole in his chest was roughly the size of the puddle of booze Kate had poured between their feet. How long until he fell back in?

Standing still on the sidewalk with Silas, Kate rubbed her numbed hands together, the frosty gray air promising more cold rain. She nodded to a few people, hoping her casual smile would ward off their curiosity. With Silas's face so haggard, so broken, so lost, she couldn't imagine him being able to answer anyone who might ask what bothered him.

Would anybody in town care to keep him out of the taverns? She didn't have the right to order a grown man not to drink, but if he didn't want to, who else would care enough about him to help?

Strange that the man she'd once wished had never come to Breton was the only one who didn't seem to think poorly of her.

If only he thought more of her.

Though she'd known from the beginning her attraction was impractical, she wanted to grab his crumpled telegram and burn it-as if that would allow him to stay.

But if she hadn't captured his interest already, it didn't matter if he stuck around any longer. At least she'd be useful to him here, waiting for word of Anthony. She hadn't the strength to convince him to stay when her own hope was dwindling, when everything seemed to point to them never knowing what happened. How could she tell him what to do when he'd already gone through something like this before?

"I'm sorry, Kate. I shouldn't keep you out in the cold." He glanced at his pocket watch. "I doubt there's anything left for me to eat at the boardinghouse, so maybe we could-" He shrugged. "Never mind."

"What?" Had he about asked her to eat at the hotel? Could she invite him to the Logans'? They were already put out with her, so what was one more thing to add to their list of grievances?

Silas stood as if someone had beaten him. "I was going to ask if you'd eat with me, but maybe that wouldn't be a good idea, considering what people think."

She tried not to frown. "It's all right. Thank you anyway." Probably best.

Silas sighed and wiped a hand down his jaw. His newly clipped beard and mustache might be more attractive if he'd smile again.

Why did Lucinda leave you?

"Why? I thought I'd told you."

She slapped a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I said that aloud."

A small flutter of a smile kindled a spark she hadn't seen in his eyes for a while, but the glimmer died quickly. "She came to Kansas at harvest time, and I expected her to work as hard as any other woman in Salt Flatts. She wasn't thrilled, and well, whiskey dulled the pain of hearing how my farm and I did not live up to her expectations. And who wants to live with a drunkard?" He seemed to wilt in place. "Nobody-that's who."

"But you don't drink now." She'd broken off her engagement to Jasper Goldwater because of his addiction to alcohol, so why was she still so drawn to Silas after seeing him struggling to let go of a whiskey bottle?

"You can't have forgotten what I just asked you to do. Just one bad day and I could . . ." He snapped his fingers.

"Would you drink with Anthony around?"

"No," he spit. "Or rather, I'd do everything possible to avoid even the smell of liquor. I've lived with a drunk, I've been a drunk, and no child of mine will endure that. I'd chop my hands off first. But then, Anthony's gone and I'll go back home-" He pulled up short and blinked at her. "You're probably glad I can't take him home knowing what you know about . . ." He held out his empty hand in front of him-the one she'd had to pry a bottle out of.

And that was the difference, he knew just as well as she what liquor could do to a person and didn't want to live with or be a drunk.

She reached for his hand to give him a reassuring squeeze but stopped short when Richard turned the corner and walked toward them on the sidewalk. "You've got a good reason to keep away from drink now. Whether Anthony shows up today or next year, he needs a sober father waiting for him."

Silas nodded and opened his mouth to say something when Richard called from behind him. "What are you doing over this way?" He stopped next to them and took stock of Silas. "You finally going to join me for a round of cards?"

She looked around and realized they'd stopped between two taverns. The sign on the left dangling by one hook read Lucky's.

"No. I told you I don't play."

"Seems as if you like to play with a certain woman's affections." He sneered at her. "While you're parading Miss Dawson through the seedy part of town without an escort, she's looking up at you like you're the doggone moon. And you pretend you'd be the best father for the boy."

"I told you, he's my son."

"You can say whatever you want to say-I'm the one with the paper proving he belongs to me." He eyed Kate. "And don't you forget it. I told the sheriff to watch you. The second that boy shows up, you're to turn him in. I can't stay here much longer, and I'm assuming Mr. Jonesey can't either, so if I were you, little lady, I'd send this dallier home before he ruins you."

"He's not ruining me."

"Oh yeah?" He pointed at Silas's face. "You and I both know what people think of you two running around. You going to make an honest woman out of her?"

"An honest woman?" she sputtered. "There's no reason to make me an honest anything."

"So you're marrying her, then?"

Her insides quaked too much to retort. Of course Silas wasn't, but then why did she all of a sudden wish he'd answer Richard with something other than a vehement "No!"

Of course, there was no reason to answer Richard at all. Silas had been searching with her to keep her safe. It was Richard who wanted to make that into something more than it was.

Silas gave Richard a scrutinizing look. "There's no reason to push her toward marriage just because you gossip like an old woman."

"It's not gossip when it's what I've seen with my own two eyes."

Silas raised his hand in disbelief. "Can't you find something more productive to do than follow us around? Look for Anthony, perhaps. Or at least learn how to play a hand of cards decently enough you don't need a boy's nimble fingers to make up for your lack of skill."

Kate took a step toward Richard, making sure she captured his attention. This conversation needed to stop before one of them threw a punch. "Let's not fight."

"The little lady's standing up for you now." The smell of alcohol wafted off of Richard in waves. "She's besotted, and you tell me I don't know what's going on."

"Come on." Kate stopped short of taking Silas's hand and pulling. "All he wants to do is pick a fight. Don't give it to him."

She didn't bother to tell Richard good-bye as she strode away, praying Silas would indeed leave without an altercation.

After a bit, Silas caught up to her, and she let out the breath she'd been holding since she'd smelled Richard's.

They walked back toward the boardinghouse in silence but stopped at Fifth, where she'd need to turn to head back to the Logans'.

The misty rain started to pick up again, and she repositioned her shawl to keep the droplets from her eyes. Silas stared at the rain clouds, hands in his pockets, drizzle collecting on his hat's brim and slowly rolling off the back.

He didn't say anything, even after his gaze dropped down to meet hers. How long would she have to stand here in silence for him to say something?

And she wanted him to say something.

Something that would cut the tangles overtaking her heart so she could get back to the life of a spinster who knew better than to let an attraction beget daydreams.

Silas swiped a hand along the shawl she'd tossed over her hair, flicking off the mist-formed droplets on her head.

She stilled under his hand. Had Richard been wrong? Did he feel something for her?

His lips twitched and he swallowed twice. "You'll likely catch a cold after all this talking we've done in the rain-no need to waste any more of your time on me today."

Then he didn't want to spend time with her unless they were looking for Anthony? As it should be. She swallowed. "In light of what Richard said, maybe you shouldn't walk me home."

He squared his shoulders. "Richard's right, I can't stay in town much longer. I'll be heading back to Salt Flatts as soon as I get the letters from Lucy's sister and the judge changes the ruling. But I'll pray I hear from you sometime soon, when you write to tell me Anthony's back and I can come get him. You would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," she whispered. Though it'd break her heart, she wanted Anthony to be with Silas more than she wanted Anthony to be with her.

"Thanks for your help, Kate." His mouth seemed unsettled, like he wanted to say more, but suddenly he jerked his hand up to his hat in farewell, then turned and left her behind.

And she'd gotten her wish. He'd said something that obliterated her hope. Soon he'd be gone and he only wanted to hear from her if she found Anthony.

So why didn't the knots around her heart loosen?

Chapter 12.

Stirring more cream into his coffee, Silas felt Myrtle watching him as she cleaned the last of the dinner dishes. She probably wanted him to leave so she could clean his table. But he couldn't leave quite yet, not when he needed more coffee.

Or did he? What would it matter if he hadn't the energy to go looking around Breton for a few more hours in the rain?

He flipped over the letters he'd picked up at the post office yesterday after leaving Kate and read the most important paragraph again.

If I can get Richard to believe this baby's his, then I won't have to crawl back home to Father. If Silas ever writes, don't let him know where I am. It'd be best not to answer him at all. If he ever found out, he'd be the kind to actually want a brat, and I'm not about to go back to that soddy because of his kid.

Rubbing his brow, he shook his head. How had he not seen what kind of woman he'd sent for before he'd married her? Sure, she'd been contentious and grumpy, but had he been so desperate for family he'd willingly ruined himself?

Lord, I want you to be enough, but I still have this ache for someone to care for and to care for me . . . someone I can touch. I fear for Anthony something fierce, and I can't do anything.

He thumped his fist against the table. He might as well admit he was powerless to help Anthony and leave. His son was lost-quite possibly forever-and there was nothing he could do to save his only family member.

Again.

He couldn't help Anthony any more here in Missouri than he could in Kansas. The judge had changed his ruling this afternoon, so if Anthony ever showed up, Kate could write and let him know.

He'd already inconvenienced Will enough by asking him to watch his place-and knowing Will, his friend was probably wearing himself out trying to doctor and fix up his homestead at the same time.

Silas sighed. And he'd thought Lucy deserting him was the most hopeless he'd ever been.

Myrtle's skirts brushed against his leg, and he looked up at her. Her pupils were large and sorrowful-looking under her heavy lashes. "Mr. Jonesey, are you going home anytime soon?"

He grabbed his spoon again and swirled his cream. "You think I should?" Was he that much of a bother? He treated her better than most of the tenants.

She took a step back and laid a hand against her chest. "You actually asking me?"

"Why not?"

"Well . . . because I'm . . . " She shook her head. "You're too nice. Not at all like Miss Lucinda."

"I didn't know Lucy all that well, but I suspect I'm not much better than her, as none of my family ever cared enough to stay with me for long." He sucked in a steadying breath, letting his chest fill with onion-laden air.

"Why's that? What'd you ever do to anybody?"

She flinched when he looked her in the eye.

"I'm sorry, not my place-"

"I don't mind you asking." He shrugged. "The honest answer is I don't know. Though I wish I did."

"Did I hear Mr. Fitzgerald right?" Myrtle looked behind her before lowering her voice. "A while ago, he was hollering about you getting the court to take Anthony from him."

"Yeah, Lucinda's sister sent me this letter." He toyed with it again. "Confirms I'm Anthony's father."

She shifted her weight. "I'm real sorry he left you, Mr. Jonesey. You thinking of giving up?"

He pushed his coffee away. "I won't ever stop praying, but I can't stay any longer. Anthony could be a hundred miles away, and I've got a farm with problems. I'll just have to pray in Kansas. It's all I can do."