Free Tender Touch by Charlene Raddon Page B

self-assurance, he obviously cared no more for crowds than she did.
    At the Independence House, they had no better luck in locating the Somervilles, but the thin, balding owner, recognizing Brianna as gentry and fed up with the riffraff traipsing through his establishment, offered her a small room on the second floor which had just been vacated. Nigh frowned at the signature she wrote in the register. Villard. Not the name he had heard the O’Caseys’ use in addressing Brianna, but he said nothing.
    Since she was alone and the town crawled with men, Nigh requested a cot be set up in the hallway outside her door for himself. The clerk pointed out the public dining room to the right of the registration desk, then gave them directions to several homes which rented rooms at a dollar a day where they could inquire after her sister.
    Nigh put their gear in her room. Then, grumbling, he went to find a box he could fill with dirt so the cat could see to its needs. After stabling the horses, he returned for Brianna and they went to check out the boarding houses. On the boardwalk in front of them a woman was struggling in the grasp of an obviously drunk man. Brianna’s steps slowed and Nigh felt her tremble fearfully. He slid his arm about her waist. “Has nothing to do with you,” he said softly. “Come on, we’ll just slip past them.”
    A man shouted somewhere behind them: “Hey you! Get your hands off my wife!”
    Brianna cringed. Then she felt herself shoved into Columbus’s arms as a man pushed past. The husband knocked the drunk into the mud and traffic along the boardwalk began to move again. All but Brianna and Columbus Nigh. He held her close until she stopped shaking, one hand stroking her back while she buried her face in his chest. Finally calm again, she drew away, embarrassed at having been seen embracing a man in public.
    The first of the boarding houses was of brick in the old Federal style. A maid answered the door. She denied knowing the Somervilles. The next two homes were small frame affairs, and no more help than the first. At last they came to a fine old home of Spanish flavor where a middle- aged woman of French extraction welcomed them into her parlor.
    “But of course,” she said after hearing Brianna out. “The Somervilles were a lovely family. They stayed with us about six weeks before they left to join the wagon company. That was eight days ago, however.” She sighed wistfully. “I miss Julia and the children. Such a sweet boy she had, and little Genevieve was as pretty and petite as her mama. You are fortunate to have such a fine sister.”
    Brianna managed an appropriate reply though her spirits, which had begun to soar at the beginning of the interview, lay now at her feet.
    Without thinking, Nigh put a comforting hand on her back. “Forming a wagon company takes a lot of organizing. That means a slow start. We’ll find them.” Looking up at their hostess, he asked, “Do you happen to know which company they joined up with?”
    “No, I regret I do not.”
    Brianna was too distraught to notice the way Columbus helped her to her feet and guided her from the house. She felt faint and wondered if she were becoming ill.
    “You need food in you,” he said. “We’ll go back to the hotel and have something to eat.”
    She looked up at him with dazed eyes.
    “You truly think we’ll still be able to find Julia?”
    “If they left only a week ago, chances are they ain’t gone more’n sixty miles. I’ll find ’em.”
    It was then she realized his arm was around her, his hand at her waist. She knew it wasn’t proper, that she should reprove him for his boldness, but her legs felt no more substantial than the mud in the street and she feared she might fall if he removed his support.
    After a solemn meal of venison, greens, bread, and apple pie, they made their way back to the hotel and Columbus went in search of the man who had sent for him to guide a wagon company, promising to ask after