“How long would—would you be gone?” she asked, glancing uneasily toward Abigail.

For a moment, she thought he was going to reach across the table and touch the back of her hand, and she felt stung when he didn’t, for all that it would have been a highly improper gesture. Instead, he thrust his fingers through his hair. “I’ll get back as soon as I can,” he said. “It depends a lot on the weather. If we don’t have another storm right away, I shouldn’t be away longer than a day or two.”

Evangeline was silent, assimilating the prospect of this new and very daunting challenge. She glanced uneasily up at the rifle above the door frame, stricken by a piercing and desperate hope that she would never be called upon to pull the trigger.

Scully’s chair scraped the floor as he leaned forward, hands folded on the tabletop. “If there’s somebody you want to write to, back home, I’ll take the letter to the station for you. It’ll go out on the next stage.”

She nodded. She had a few friends in Pennsylvania, though the war and her life with Abigail and Charles had not left her with a great deal of time for them. She did want to stay in contact with Rachel English, who had taught at Abigail’s small country school. “I’d like to send my regards to the McCaffreys,” she said.

He glanced toward the shadows where Abigail lay, slumbering in peace beneath the weightless shelter of her little-girl conscience, and Evangeline knew he was worried about the promises he’d made to serve as their protector.

“She’ll understand,” Evangeline assured him softly, and put her own hands in her lap to keep from reaching out to touch him. “Abigail is very willful, but she’s bright. No doubt she’s already worked out that Jacob and June-bug need the mules and the sleigh. If that fails, just remind her that your gelding is still there. As far as Abigail is concerned, no sacrifice is too great to make for the welfare of a horse.”

He chuckled at that. “Were you like her, when you were little?” he asked. Even in the dim light of the lamp burning between them, she could see the twinkle in his eyes. Had he given her as much thought as that, wondering, taking up the threads of her life in his mind, following them back to her childhood? She was bemused by the idea, and more than a little flattered.

“No,” she answered, at last. “I wasn’t in the least adventurous. I’m still afraid of horses and I could have gone my entire life without encountering hostile Indians, let alone wolves.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “You’re here, aren’t you? A timid woman wouldn’t cross the country to live at the hind end of nowhere, or agree to marry a man she’s never met. I don’t know a lot of people with that kind of gumption.”

Evangeline looked down, hoping to hide the warmth that had risen to her face. Then, having composed herself again, she met his eyes squarely. “It wasn’t courage that brought me here, Scully. I simply had nowhere else to turn.”