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Montana Cowboy Family

Page 3

by Linda Ford


  She turned her attention to Kate’s question. “Little Sammy Weiss.” She explained the situation. “Have you or your father had occasion to meet any of the Weisses?”

  Kate said they hadn’t and they turned the conversation to other matters.

  On Sunday, Sadie glanced about the congregation. Sammy wasn’t there. She told herself there might be a good reason the family didn’t attend. Perhaps they weren’t churchgoers, but she’d been hoping to see them.

  Instead, she ended up meeting Logan’s gaze across the aisle. The blue sky of outdoors echoed in his eyes, sending a jolt through her. She jerked her gaze away and stared hard at the preacher…another recent newcomer. She forced herself to listen carefully to each of Preacher Arness’s words and left the service strengthened and encouraged.

  She might not be acceptable in the eyes of many people, should they learn her secret, but she was wholly accepted by God through the cleansing blood of Christ. Humming a hymn under her breath, she smiled at each who greeted her. Grandfather Marshall took her hand and asked after her well-being. Although his kind words brought a sting of tears to the back of her eyes, she managed to answer calmly and moved on before Logan could do more than nod. She had no need to avoid him, and yet she couldn’t stand and make polite conversation with him, either.

  *

  Monday morning, Sammy handed her a note as he entered the classroom. “From my ma,” he said. He walked away before she could think what to say.

  Logan said Sammy’s ma had died. Was he mistaken? How was she to find out?

  She opened the note and read it: “I’m sick. Can you come some other time?”

  She studied the writing. Many of the older children wrote better than this, but perhaps the woman had not been properly schooled, which would explain the promise she’d elicited from her son to attend classes. But why would someone say the mother was dead?

  She set the children to work and checked on each of them. She paused at Sammy’s desk and bent close to speak privately to him. “I’m sorry your mother is ill. Can I do anything?”

  “No, ma’am,” he whispered.

  “If you think of something, don’t be afraid to ask.” She pressed her hand to his back.

  He flinched so sharply that she jerked her hand away.

  “Are you hurt?” Had this occurred over the weekend? It was the first time she’d touched him in that particular place but, in truth, he had shrunk back from every touch she offered. Pain and anger tore at her insides. There had been a time she’d thought family to be a place of shelter and protection. There were families who portrayed these ideals, and many others that did not.

  He sidled away as far as his desk allowed. “No.” His brown eyes were big and watchful.

  She didn’t need the details to know this child had been hurt and was afraid. She glanced about. Now was not the time or place to say anything.

  She waited until recess and called him to her desk as the others went out to play. “Sammy, if you need someone to talk to, or if you need help of any sort, please let me know.”

  He shook his head hard, sending his overgrown dirty blond hair from side to side. “There’s nothing to say and I don’t need nothing.” He scurried outdoors. It was plain as the nose on his face that he didn’t want to talk to her.

  She stared after him. Oh, Father, this child is in need of help. I know it as clearly as I know someone should have helped me. Show me what to do.

  At noon, he hurried out to join Logan before Sadie reached the door.

  By the time school let out, she knew what she must do. Her only regret was having given her promise to Logan to tell him before she did anything.

  As soon as the children departed, she hurried across the street and confronted him. “Look at this.” She handed him the note. “I thought you said Mrs. Weiss had passed away.”

  He read the few words. Logan shook his head, as puzzled by the message as she. “I’ve never known Uncle George to be wrong.”

  “Something isn’t right and I’m going out there to find out what it is.”

  “But she asks you not to.”

  “I told you I would not hesitate to visit a family if I felt the need and, in this case, I do. I said I’d let you know and I’m doing that. I fear Sammy is in some sort of danger.” She told him about the bruises she’d observed on Sammy’s arms and the way Sammy had flinched at having his back touched. “I’m certain he’s been whipped hard enough to leave him hurting.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Not completely, but I won’t let it go until I know the truth.” Uncertainty filled his eyes as he studied her.

  “Very well. If you’re determined to do this, I’ll take you.”

  “While I appreciate your offer of help…” Which it had not been. “I prefer to go alone.”

  “Why?”

  She considered her reply. She could hardly say it was because she didn’t want him hovering at her side making her aware of things she’d sooner not think of. Like the strength of him physically and in other ways. Not to mention that he made her think of how the Marshall family was a model of all the things she thought family should be, but was only a dream for many people. “If the woman is ill, she might not want a strange man showing up.”

  “Or the teacher, either, yet you are set on going.”

  Challenge upon challenge passed between them.

  “Fine,” she said finally, only because she knew he wouldn’t give in.

  “Very well. Let me get a buggy from the livery barn and I’ll come back for you.” He was on his way before she got her agreement out. While he did that, she hurried to her quarters and bundled up the cake she’d baked Saturday. At least she wouldn’t arrive empty-handed.

  She stood in front of her living quarters, ready and waiting, when Logan drove up with the rented buggy.

  Logan jumped down and came around to help her up. He retained her hand even after she was safely seated.

  She brought her gaze to his, knew hers revealed her determination and hopefully none of her quaking fear at what they might discover. She couldn’t say what he thought, but his look gave her a jolt of courage…much-needed courage.

  He released her hand and she took a deep breath, only to have it rush from her as he climbed into the buggy and sat beside her. They were on their way.

  She tried to pretend Logan wasn’t at her side and tried to pretend she didn’t draw some strength from his presence. He wouldn’t be there if he knew the sort of woman she was. Soiled, dirty, ruined.

  She shivered at the thought he might somehow learn the truth about her.

  *

  Logan was silent as they made their way down the streets of Bella Creek. Was it just a few days ago he had thought the schoolmarm shy and retiring? Today she was a determined, headstrong woman, ready to walk into an unknown situation in order to protect a child. Was she truly so noble, or was there more to it than that? Or less? Grandfather had warned Logan to be careful not to judge every woman based on his experience with two of them, but how was he to know what lay hidden beneath the prim appearance of Miss Sadie Young? He would not believe anything but his own heart, which wore a permanent warning—a stay-away sign.

  Nor would he let the teacher go alone to confront Mr. or Mrs. Weiss or whomever they’d discovered. After all, the family had come from Wolf Hollow, and that alone was reason to be cautious, though he couldn’t help wondering at the mixed information he’d learned. There was something not right.

  They drove past the tidy houses of Bella Creek and reached a slightly wooded area where squatters often used the ramshackle house standing there. “I believe this is the place.” He pointed to the right. He hadn’t been past in over a year and it had not improved one bit. The yard was littered with debris. Once it warmed up, the flies would be thick as syrup.

  He pulled to a stop in front of the house. A window had been repaired with scraps of wood.

  Logan helped Sadie down, “Careful where you step.” Poverty always bother
ed him. Being careless about taking care of one’s property bothered him even more, because the first couldn’t be helped but the latter could. However, if they’d only recently moved they likely hadn’t had time to clean up. Or if the parents were ill…or worse…there would be no one to do it apart from Sammy and, though the boy was a good little worker, he needed guidance and instruction.

  Sadie grimaced. “I understand that some people are content to live like this. I’m not here to judge how Sammy lives, only to see if he’s safe.”

  Logan nodded. “Let’s go find out.”

  Someone must have surely heard their approach, but no one came to the door to welcome them.

  Logan took Sadie’s hand and guided her across the littered yard. She clung to him. He told himself it was only to keep her footing and there was no need to feel all protective toward her. After all, she’d been prepared to come here on her own and would surely have managed fine without his help.

  He was grateful she didn’t have to. They reached the door and he rapped his knuckles against the worn wood. From inside came a rustling and a muted voice, but no one came to the door or called out an invitation to enter.

  Sadie gave him a questioning look and he shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t hear.” He knocked again, harder this time, and again they waited, knowing someone was inside. “We need to speak to you,” Logan called. “May we come in?”

  Silence and then a shuffle of feet, and the door opened enough to allow Sammy to peek through. “Teacher? Mr. Marshall? What’re you doing here?”

  Sadie squatted down to eye level with the boy. “I was worried about you and came to make sure you are okay.”

  Logan leaned closer to peer through the narrow opening of the door. The interior showed little sign of life—a bare table and an equally bare cupboard. He’d never seen a kitchen with nothing to indicate food preparation. “Can we come in?” he asked when it became apparent Sammy didn’t mean to extend an invitation.

  Sammy glanced behind him, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Sadie straightened and turned to Logan. “This isn’t right,” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  “I’m okay,” Sammy said. “You don’t need to worry none about me.”

  “But, Sammy, we are worried.” He knew he spoke for both of them. As he studied the boy, a pair of small feet entered his field of vision. “You have a little brother or sister? And a sick mother?”

  Sadie gave him a look full of appeal, seeking his help, perhaps even his opinion. He tried not to let the notion make him feel that she might see him as a man worthy of her respect. Which, he thought with a degree of irony, he was. What he meant was he no longer cared if a woman thought so.

  Nevertheless, he listened to her silent call for help and shouldered the door open, the squawk of its rusted hinges rending the silence.

  Sammy stepped back. An older girl pulled him close while, in her other arm, she held a smaller girl. The older girl wore shoes with the toes cut out to accommodate her feet. Her dress had a tear in the skirt and was almost colorless from frequent washings. The little one was barefoot and her faded pink dress was equally worn, yet they were both surprisingly clean.

  In a glance Logan took in the room—a bed with no mattress and only a scattering of blankets. A narrow wooden table sagged to one side, and nearby was a single chair with rungs missing in the back. Again he was struck by how empty the place was of belongings. Or any sign of domesticity. Not a curtain. Not a dish. Nothing.

  “Where’s your mother? Your father?” Sadie’s words were surprisingly gentle considering the state of the place and the children.

  Logan remained at her side, stifling an urge to put an arm about her shoulders and protect her from the glaring truth. “You kids are alone, aren’t you?”

  Sadie pressed a hand to her throat. “Alone? Is that possible?” She studied the silent trio. “I think you better explain what is going on.”

  Sammy looked up at his older sibling, a slender girl with hair lighter than Sammy’s and the same dark eyes. She shook her head in answer to Sammy’s unasked question.

  “We got nothing to say,” Sammy said.

  Logan pulled forward the only chair, two rungs missing in its back, and indicated Sadie should sit. Her glance at Logan informed him that the misery of the children’s situation brought her pain. Sadie placed a package on the table and unwrapped a cake. Three pairs of eyes lingered on it, then eased away. It didn’t take more than a glance around the place to know they were likely hungry.

  He wished he could erase the pain for Sadie and the children. But things like this couldn’t be undone…only resolved, and he prayed for wisdom. Lord, help us unravel this mystery.

  Slowly, softly, Sadie began to speak. “Sammy, are these your sisters?”

  Sammy nodded.

  The older girl tightened her arm about Sammy’s shoulders. If Sadie noticed the warning gesture, she ignored it. “What are their names?”

  “She’s Beth.” Sammy indicated the older girl. “And this here is baby Jeannie.”

  Jeannie, the blondest of the three, with the same dark eyes, wasn’t a baby anymore, but Logan understood that the youngest child often got called the baby for a long time.

  “How old are your sisters?” Sadie continued in her gentle voice.

  “I’m thirteen,” Beth said. “And Jeannie is three. Why?”

  Sadie managed a slight smile as she met Beth’s eyes. “It’s just something teachers ask children. Let me introduce ourselves. I’m Sammy’s teacher, Miss Young, and this is Logan Marshall.”

  Beth nodded. “I know who you are. But why are you here? I—Sammy took a note asking you not to visit.”

  Logan noted the hesitation, as if Beth had been about to say she had sent the note. He glanced at Sadie, saw by the flash in her eyes that she had heard the same thing.

  Her gaze returned to the older girl. “Yes, he did. But I couldn’t help but be worried. Especially when I saw that his back hurt him.”

  Both Sammy and Beth adopted impassive expressions.

  “Sammy, who has been hurting you?”

  “Not Beth.”

  “I wasn’t accusing Beth.” She looked to Logan, seeking his opinion.

  He gave her a slight nod to indicate she should continue questioning the children.

  “Where’s your mama?” she asked them.

  “Mama?” Little Jeannie spoke for the first time.

  “Hush, baby.” Beth jostled the child.

  “I want Mama.” Jeannie looked ready to cry.

  “Hush, hush. Remember what I told you.”

  Jeannie nodded. “Mama not coming back.”

  So Logan’s uncle had been right.

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said. “You must all be very sad.”

  Nothing but more unblinking stares from Sammy and Beth.

  “Where is your father?” Logan asked. Though his deeper, more demanding voice jolted the pair, they quickly recovered and pressed their lips together.

  “Where’s your papa?” he asked again, softer this time.

  Little Jeannie, her eyes full of fear, whimpered and clung to Beth. Beth’s jaw muscles twitched as she clenched her teeth. Her eyes narrowed and she wrapped her arms about Jeannie in such a protective gesture that a shiver climbed Logan’s spine.

  Logan crossed the floor to the cupboards and threw open the only remaining door. Empty. He touched the stove. Cold. He confronted the children. Sadie was right, both in thinking things weren’t as they should be and coming here to check on them.

  He stilled his raging heart. “There is nothing in the house to eat.”

  No response from any of them.

  He circled the room, hating every inch of it as a place for children to live. He stopped behind Sadie’s chair and gripped the back. “When is your father returning?”

  Jeannie whimpered and buried her face against her sister’s shoulder.

  Beth glowered.

  Sammy trembled. What wa
s he afraid of?

  “He’s gone, but he’ll be back.” Beth tried to look as if that was all that mattered.

  “Where is he?” He’d find the man and make him look after these kids. And he’d make it clear that he must treat them kindly.

  “Said he’d bring us something to eat,” Sammy blurted out.

  “Hush,” Beth warned.

  Sammy hung his head.

  Logan assessed the little information the children had provided. One thing was clear—they couldn’t stay here.

  “I’ll take you to the ranch, where you’ll all be well taken care of.”

  At the same time, Sadie said, “Children, I am taking you home with me. I’ll make sure you are well taken care of and that no one will hurt you.”

  Logan gave Sadie a hard look. “You live in tiny quarters.”

  “You live with a houseful of people who, apart from your grandfather, are all busy, and he can’t take care of the children.”

  He rocked his head back and forth. Did she realize she would be absent as much as anyone at the ranch? Somehow, he knew that little truth wouldn’t change her mind. “Who will look after Jeannie when you’re teaching?”

  The stubbornness slid from her face.

  “I look after Jeannie,” Beth said. “But we aren’t going with either of you.”

  Logan and Sadie forgot their argument as they confronted the children.

  “You can’t stay here,” Sadie said. “It’s not…” She glanced about and seemed to struggle to find the appropriate word. “Safe.” A heavy beat passed as everyone stood poised to argue. “It’s only until we can locate your father,” Sadie added.

  A look passed between Sammy and Beth. Logan could not interpret it except to know it put him on edge.

  Jeannie struggled to get down, and Beth could not hold the squirming child. The little girl went to the table and stared at the cake.

 

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