by Linda Ford
Between the wandering pig and the visiting cowboy she was way behind in her chores, and she picked up her pace. She had butter to churn and cheese to start. The sale of these products, plus whatever people offered in return for the healing powders that Ma made from medicinal plants, brought in the cash to pay for what they couldn’t raise themselves.
A quick glance at the garden informed her that Lilly had not pulled weeds as she’d agree to. Heaven alone knew where she’d wandered off to. Likely she was searching for the mama cat and her newborn kittens. Ma and Rose were in the garden shed, and she turned her steps in that direction.
Rose stepped from the garden shed, saw her and waved. “We’re making progress.” Rose wanted Ma to write down all medicinal remedies. That meant Rose was writing as Ma recited them.
“Good,” Cora said. She stepped into the shed. “Ma, can I have some tonic for a horse?”
“Horse tonic?” Rose asked.
Cora jabbed her finger over her shoulder. “Company.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” It wasn’t as if they never had company. Lots of people dropped by to purchase eggs or butter or cheese or garden produce or something for an ailment.
She explained to Ma and Rose about the mare.
Ma shook dust from her ample apron. She ran her hands over her gray hair and patted her skirts smooth. “Let’s have a look.”
The trio walked to where Pa and Wyatt stood talking next to the mare. Lonnie and the other two horses were gone. As she expected, Pa had allowed them to rest down by the river. “Ma, this is Wyatt Williams. Wyatt, my mother, Mrs. Gertie Bell. And this is my sister Rose.”
As the others studied Wyatt, Cora also took a good look at him. Dark hair showed around his black cowboy hat. His brown eyes were fringed with long lashes. And despite the shadows in his eyes, he looked as though he smiled often.
Eighteen-year-old Rose’s red hair drew Wyatt’s gaze like a moth to flames, but he shifted his gaze past her and said hello to her mother.
Ma nodded to Wyatt, then turned her attention to the horse. “Poor thing looks exhausted. This tonic ought to make her feel better.”
Lilly drifted by, saw the crowd and shifted direction. “What’s everyone doing here?”
Rose and Lilly were twins, although as different as the flowers they’d been named for.
Lilly cradled one of last year’s kittens.
Cora moved to Lilly’s side as she introduced Wyatt yet again. “That’s our family.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” he said. “I don’t plan to be a nuisance. We’ll be down by the river until Fanny here and her new baby are ready to move.”
Another wanderer. Here today, maybe tomorrow or even the next day, then gone as fast as he could pull his boots on...or, in this case, as soon as he deemed his horse fit to move on.
Cora’d had her fill of wandering men. First her birth father had abandoned her and the twins when she was five and the twins just three. The day was burned into her memory.
Papa in a wagon, riding away with a promise to return. “Wait for me. I’ll be back,” he’d said. But he’d never returned and she’d never known why.
And then Evan. Cora wondered how she could have let herself care for him in the first place. Once bitten, twice shy. She’d not be so willing to trust a man again.
“You’re fortunate you ended up here,” Rose said. “Our ma is known for her healing powders and ointments.”
“I’m grateful, though it was the sign on your gate that caught my attention. Then I saw your sister chasing after a pig and had to ride closer.”
Cora groaned. Now Lilly would get all concerned.
“What pig?” Lilly looked about ready to cry. How many times had Cora told her sister that, at eighteen, tears shouldn’t be so close to the surface?
“One of the little pigs,” Cora said.
“But which one?”
“I couldn’t say. They all look the same to me.” Fat, pink or otherwise, and noisy. She darted a glance at Wyatt. He flashed a grin as if recalling the chase they’d had.
She almost laughed and choked the sound back so she wouldn’t be called upon to explain herself. She drew curious looks from both sisters. She patted her chest as if she had a tickle.
But Lilly had not lost sight of her concern over the pigs. “Was the pig all pink or did it have spots?”
Cora honestly could not say. She’d been entirely focused on getting the creature back into the pen before it had decided to root in the garden the way one had done last week. She’d managed to salvage some of the bean plants, but half a dozen were beyond help. After all her hard work planting and weeding.
“There was a black spot on its rump,” Wyatt said.
Cora stared at him. How had he noticed when she hadn’t?
“That was Mini,” Lilly said. “I hope you didn’t hurt him. He’s the littlest one, you know.”
“He looked fine to me,” Cora said.
“I’ll check on him.” Lilly dashed off with Rose after her.
Pa gave the horse the tonic, then he and Ma wandered away, leaving Cora alone with Wyatt.
She wasn’t sure what to say. Was she supposed to escort him down to the river? She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “My sister worries so much about those pigs.” She realized she might not appear to be sympathetic and she truly was. “Don’t get me wrong. I adore my sister. Both of them. They mean the world to me.”
He studied her a moment, his eyes filled with those dark secrets she’d noticed before. “I guess your family is your life.”
She’d never thought of it that way, but it was true. “Yes, they are.” She wanted to ask about his family, but before she could, he spoke again.
“Your pa said I could buy some oats for my horses. Could you tell me where I can find them?”
She went to the shed and pointed to the bins in the corner. “I’d better get back to my work.” She returned to the workroom off the kitchen to churn butter. Even with all the windows open, the room was far too warm. She needed to get a springhouse built so there’d be a cool place to store the butter and cheese during the summer. But she never had enough time, and Pa, bless his heart, tried to help, but he was getting far too old and sore for heavy work.
As she pumped the handle of the churn, her thoughts returned to the cowboy.
When she’d first seen him, she’d hoped he’d come in answer to the notice she’d nailed up in the store several days ago, offering a job to someone who would help her build a new barn. It seemed Mr. Frank, the store owner, was right. No one was going to risk displeasure from the Caldwells by helping the Bells.
The Caldwells objected to the Bells farming in the midst of their ranch land. It was only a mistake, they insisted, that the Bells had been able to file on that particular piece of land. They’d made it clear the Bells should pack up and leave. Pa was equally convinced that the little bit of land they owned next to the river shouldn’t matter to the Caldwells. The cowboys and cows could access the river for miles on either side. So he refused every effort the Caldwells made to convince him to relocate.
But Wyatt had only stopped to take care of his horses, not to help with the barn.
A thought grew. Maybe he’d be interested in helping with the construction work in exchange for oats for the animals and supplies for himself and Lonnie. He certainly looked strong enough to handle the work.
The man hid secrets, but did it matter? He meant to move on. All she cared about was getting the barn finished this summer.
But first she’d make sure he posed no threat to her family.
How was she to find out?
Chapter Two
Wyatt led Fanny to the river. Lonnie scrambled to his feet and backed away at their approach. Wyatt hoped to see the fear and tension
disappear when Lonnie saw who it was, but neither did.
He sighed. “Lonnie, why do you act like I’m going to hurt you? You know I won’t.”
Lonnie nodded and mumbled. “I guess.”
Guess? Was that the best the boy could do? Wyatt let it go. He could only hope that time would heal Lonnie’s wounds. “Mr. Bell said we could stay here. Help me make camp.” He tossed the end of a rope toward Lonnie. “Stretch it between those trees.” They’d make a rope corral to hold the mares.
Lonnie jumped to do as Wyatt said. Jumped too fast, Wyatt figured. As if he thought that if he dillydallied, Wyatt would boot him. How long would it be before Lonnie stopped expecting to be treated the way their pa had treated him?
Wyatt had set his mind to being patient and soft-spoken with the boy, even when his fearful attitude made him want to shake him.
“That ought to hold them for now. I bought oats from the Bells. How about you give the mares a ration?”
Lonnie eagerly did so. The only time he truly relaxed was around animals. Not that Wyatt could blame him. He, too, had plenty of reason not to trust people. Jail had been a harsh teacher in that regard.
“Now let’s get a camp set up for us.”
“How long are we going to stay?” Lonnie rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.
It was his usual worry stance. Wyatt remembered him doing it from the time he started to walk. Wyatt secretly smiled as he recalled those good memories before their family had been affect by their pa’s moods. Pa hadn’t always been violent. Wyatt could say exactly when it happened. Seemed it was sometime after Lonnie was born.
“We’ll have to stay until Fanny foals and the baby is strong enough to travel.”
Lonnie held one corner of the tarpaulin they were securing between trees for shelter. “But didn’t she have some kind of tonic? Won’t that make her able to go farther?”
“No, it won’t.” As Mr. Bell said, they had pushed the poor animal too much already.
Lonnie let his corner of the canvas droop.
“We can’t run forever.” Wyatt kept his voice calm and soothing. “Can you hold your corner tight?”
Lonnie jerked the canvas taut. “Why not?”
“We’d run out of money, for one thing.” Besides, he ached to settle down. Had from his first day in jail. One thing he’d promised himself while behind bars—once he got out he’d find a place where he could belong and find peace. He still clung to that dream, though he didn’t know the when or where of it.
“We could go into the bush, and hunt and fish.”
“I suppose we could. We’d be hermits. You think you’d like that?”
“Maybe.”
He tied Lonnie’s corner of the tarpaulin and stepped back. “There. Looks like a nice home for us.” He reached out to drape an arm across Lonnie’s shoulders.
Lonnie shrank away.
Wyatt closed his eyes. It hurt like crazy to be treated this way by Lonnie. “We’ll move on after Fanny’s foal is born and it’s strong enough to travel.”
“How long will that be?” Lonnie asked.
“I expect a month or so.”
“A month!” Lonnie stalked away to the bank of the river, mumbling under his breath. “What if they find out?”
“We’ll make sure they don’t.”
He wanted so much for Lonnie to feel safe with him. To feel safe around other people.
During his days in prison, Wyatt’s only consolation had been reading his Bible and praying. Prayer was unhindered by bars. He’d promised himself to trust God every day and in every way. If he meant to keep his vow, he had to believe they’d been led to this place. Seemed the Bells were the kind of people to extend hospitality for the sake of his animals.
Could it be they would also accept a jailbird? But he wasn’t ready to cast aside his doubts and caution. Not until he’d had a chance to see what sort of folk they were. Even then, parts of his past must remain a secret. But he wanted Lonnie to feel at ease with them. Lonnie’s constant nervousness would surely make people suspicious that something wasn’t right.
“The Bells seem like nice people.” The thought of Cora laughing brought a smile to Wyatt’s face. “You didn’t meet the twins.”
Lonnie turned, an eager expression on his face. “Boys? Are they my age?”
“Girls. And they’re about as big as Cora.”
“Oh, well.” Lonnie moseyed over to Wyatt’s side and sank down beside him. “How old you figure Cora is?”
“I don’t know.”
“You could ask me.” At the sound of a lilting voice, Wyatt jerked about to see Cora standing nearby. “You said you were out of supplies so I brought you some things.” She held up a sack.
Lonnie jerked to his feet and hurried over to the horses.
Wyatt did his best to hide his disappointment at Lonnie’s retreat and turned back to Cora with a smile that didn’t chase the throb from behind his eyes.
At the way her gaze followed Lonnie, he knew she wondered at the boy’s sudden withdrawal.
“He’s shy,” he said by way of explanation.
“Lilly is much the same way.”
“So how old are you?” He hoped it was the kind of question that would divert her from following any suspicions she had about Lonnie’s behavior.
“Twenty,” she answered, her gaze still on the boy. “And you?”
“Twenty-one.” He felt a lot older. Old enough to be weary, though that was as much the result of a year in prison as from being on the road for weeks. “Lonnie’s sixteen.”
She took a good look around. “You’ve got a pretty good setup here.”
“It suits us.”
She nodded. Her gaze came to him and she gave him serious consideration.
What did she see? He banked every thought but survival. She must never guess his secret. “Care to sit a spell?”
She sat on a log to his right.
“I’d offer you cookies and coffee, but I have no cookies and haven’t built a fire yet, so I don’t have any coffee.”
She smiled, sending golden light through her eyes. “Maybe I can help.”
She opened the sack she carried and pulled out new potatoes and carrots so fresh he could smell them. She held up a jar of milk, then set it by him. She unwrapped a generous piece of cheese and set down a half-dozen eggs.
Despite his practice of hiding his feelings, he felt his eyes widen with pleasure at such delights. He swallowed a rush of saliva. He hadn’t seen food such as this in so long it was but a hungry memory.
Then she removed another packet from the sack and unfolded the paper. “Cookies. Ma said you looked hungry.” She grinned with such innocent happiness that his heart twisted into a knot.
Her smile would not be so warm and welcoming if she knew the truth about him.
She would never know.
His gaze clung to the cookies. They’d had nothing but hard biscuits and jerky for three days. “Lonnie, she brought milk and cookies,” he called. “Come have some.”
“What kind?”
Wyatt almost laughed. As if it made any difference. Lonnie was every bit as hungry as Wyatt. “Cow’s milk.”
Lonnie snorted. “I mean the cookies.”
“Oh.” He knew what Lonnie meant but he went out of his way to force his brother to talk to him.
“Oatmeal and raisin,” Cora said. “Ma made them, and she’s a very good cook.”
“Your favorite, if I remember correctly,” Wyatt added.
Lonnie still hesitated.
Wyatt pulled three tin cups from the supplies and held them out to Cora. She unscrewed the lid from the jar and poured milk into each cup. He handed her one cup and took a long drink from another.
“This is so good
. I haven’t had fresh milk since—” He smiled as Lonnie moved closer and sat down as far away from Cora as possible and took the cup of milk Wyatt offered.
Cora passed around the cookies. “Have two.” They needed no urging.
For a moment they enjoyed the snack without need for words.
Cora, who only ate one cookie, finished before Wyatt and Lonnie. “Where do you plan on going?”
He’d answered the question when her pa had asked and she knew it. And her quiet tone didn’t make him believe she only made conversation. She wanted to know more about him. And he couldn’t blame her. Two strangers camped so close to their home posed a risk. But not the sort she probably imagined.
“We’ll know when we get there.”
“I suppose. When did you leave your home? Where did you say it was?”
“Didn’t say. We’ve been on the road a couple weeks.” Give or take. He didn’t intend to offer any more information. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Lonnie’s leg bouncing and shot him a look of assurance.
“You have any other family?”
Wyatt choked back the mouthful of cookie, suddenly as dry as dust. He took a sip of milk to wet his mouth.
Lonnie grew as still as the log on which he sat. Wyatt wondered if he even breathed.
“No other family,” Wyatt said softly.
“No ma and pa?” She sounded shocked.
“Ma died a couple months back.” Wyatt figured she’d hung around just long enough for Wyatt’s return. Long enough to make Wyatt promise to take care of Lonnie. Even without Ma’s admonition, he’d have made sure Lonnie was okay. He’d been Lonnie’s guardian and protector since Ma had put the tiny baby, only one day old, in Wyatt’s arms. She’d hugged them both. Wyatt had put his finger in Lonnie’s palm and the baby’s tiny fingers had curled around it.
It probably wasn’t manly to say it, but it had been love at first touch.
He loved his troubled little brother even more now.
