Big Sky Cowboy (Montana Marriages #1)

by Linda Ford

  Wyatt didn’t wait for Cora to say anything about his lost job. Or his lost dream of buying a horse. He’d eventually purchased his own just before he’d gone to jail. Pa had gladly taken over the horse. But now Wyatt and Lonnie owned all that was left of Pa’s once fine breeding stock.

  “I need to find Lonnie,” he said. Perhaps he, too, had been overwhelmed by bitter memories. Wyatt couldn’t guess what Lonnie would do if he took a mind to run.

  Cora fell in step with him as they continued to follow the river. They reached the rocky ford that led to town and Wyatt halted. “He wouldn’t go into town.”

  “Okay. Then where would he go?”

  Wyatt turned full circle to study his surroundings. Trees along the river. Hills undulating to the west. Open prairie to the east. For some reason, the open spaces called to him, speaking freedom. “What’s over there?” He pointed east.

  “It looks flat, doesn’t it?”

  She waited for him to nod. “But there are hollows where a horse can disappear.”

  If Lonnie had discovered he could hide from view, wouldn’t he think that a good thing? “Let’s go see.”

  They crossed the river on rocks and tramped over the grassy land. If he wasn’t concerned about Lonnie he might have enjoyed the sun on his shoulders, the scent of wild grass wafting up to him and the swing of Cora’s sure stride at his side.

  “Look around you,” she said, and he did. “See how the ground rises up around us.”

  “I see what you mean.” They had gone down enough of an incline to be in a wide hollow. “Lonnie could be hurt in a place like this and we’d never find him.”

  “God sees him. He will lead us to him.”

  She spoke with such confidence he stared at her. “You believe that completely, don’t you?”

  “God sees everything. His eyes wander to and fro across the land.”

  Wyatt didn’t doubt that for a moment. “I mean, how can you be so sure He’ll show us where Lonnie is?”

  “Because I asked Him to. Doesn’t the Word promise if we ask, we will receive?” She stopped in front of him. “Don’t you believe in God and His love?”

  “I do, but I sometimes have trouble trusting Him when things aren’t going the way I think they should.” Her faith put him to shame.

  “Oh, you mean you think you know better than God what is best.”

  Said that way, it sounded presumptuous. “No. I don’t think so.”

  “If God asks you to trust, do you decide you can’t? Or won’t?”

  “Lady, you sure are blunt.”

  “I believe in speaking the truth. Kindly, of course.”

  “Of course.” They had climbed to a spot that gave them a wide-open view. And he saw nothing but miles of grass. “For all we know, he is twenty miles away.”

  “‘You have not because you ask not.’ So ask God to show us where Lonnie is.”

  He wanted to point out that she’d asked and believed, but she’d no doubt have forty-five arguments as to why he had to do the asking.

  “That is, if you believe God can show you.”

  Believing God could had never been a problem. Wondering if He would was an entirely different matter. But with Cora watching him, silently challenging him, he knew it was time to put his faith to the test. “Do you expect me to pray aloud?”

  “Do you object to doing so?”

  Surprisingly enough, he didn’t. Somehow her faith reinforced his and he felt an invisible link between them. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “God in heaven, You see everything. You know everything. Could You please show us where Lonnie is? And please keep him safe. He’s all I’ve got left. Amen.”

  “Amen,” she said. “Now let’s find him.”

  She headed off.

  “How do you know that’s the right direction?”

  “Does it feel wrong to you?”

  He shrugged. “Can’t say one way or the other.”

  “Then it will do.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” He caught up to her and they walked on. They approached a small rise.

  “Let’s go there,” he said. “We’ll be able to see farther.”

  They climbed to the top and looked about. In the distance, he spied a small animal and pointed it out to Cora. The animal moved. “It’s not an animal. It’s Lonnie.” He shouted his brother’s name but Lonnie couldn’t hear.

  Cora picked up her skirts and raced toward the boy but Wyatt outdistanced her and reached him first by seconds. They both crouched by Lonnie’s side.

  Lonnie sat with a frightened rabbit in his hands. He looked up at Wyatt. Dried tears streaked his cheeks. “I couldn’t kill it.”

  Wyatt eased the rabbit from Lonnie’s grip and set it free. It sat huddled and afraid for a moment, then hopped away in a crazy zigzag.

  Wyatt watched Lonnie. He didn’t know how to deal with this situation. The boy had gone out to snare a rabbit for their meal. How did he expect to do that without killing the animal?

  “I never killed an animal before.” Lonnie shivered. “I couldn’t do it.”

  Wyatt nodded.

  Cora sat cross-legged in front of Lonnie, her elbow brushing Wyatt’s arm. Wyatt took comfort in her presence.

  “Lonnie, I don’t know what to say,” Wyatt said.

  Lonnie rubbed his leg, brushed away a bit of fur. “I’d sooner go hungry.”

  “That’s fine.” Though he doubted Lonnie would enjoy being hungry.

  “I don’t understand how someone could hurt an animal.”

  Wyatt waited, hearing the agony in Lonnie’s voice and knowing the boy had sat there, maybe for hours, trying to sort out his feelings.

  “If I can’t hurt an animal, how could I hurt a person? Especially someone I knew and was supposed to love? How could anyone do that?” He groaned as if feeling real physical pain.

  Wyatt knew the pain was in his memory. As was the reality of being treated cruelly by a father who was supposed to love him.

  Cora took Lonnie’s hands.

  Lonnie ducked his head, likely not wanting her to see his dried tears or the depths of his pain.

  “Lonnie, you ask a very good question. How can people hurt each other? How can love hurt?”

  He raised his head and nodded.

  “It isn’t supposed to. But sometimes things get broken and don’t mend. Like this man in town who broke his leg and it never healed properly. He has to use a crutch, and Ma says he endures a lot of pain.”

  “Does it make him mean?”

  “Not that I know of. But what if his heart had been hurt and it didn’t get tended to, so it never healed? Maybe that person wouldn’t be able to love.”

  “And he’d be mean?”

  Cora nodded. “I guess so.”

  Lonnie shook his head. “Can someone fix him?”

  “I think God could, but I also think there are people who were hurt when they were so young they don’t know they’re broken. It’s all they’ve ever known.”

  Wyatt sat back on his heels. Was he broken inside? Was Lonnie? About all they’d ever known was hate and anger. Was that to be normal for them?

  Not if he could help it. God had led them to Lonnie. Perhaps He’d also led them to the Bells so he and Lonnie could learn how to be different from their father. If that was so, he needed to spend as much time as possible with Cora and her family, learning everything they could and maybe getting fixed inside.

  Cora got to her feet. “Let’s go home.” She held out a hand to both Lonnie and Wyatt.

  Wyatt took her hand and held it even after he was on his feet. She didn’t pull away or he would have put some distance between them. Perhaps she sensed that he felt the need of healing and she didn’t mind doing what she could to help. A smile sta
rted deep inside and claimed his entire being before it settled on his lips.

  * * *

  Cora knew God had provided the words she’d offered Lonnie. But as she spoke them, she realized they were for herself, as well. Her papa had left them. There had to be something broken inside him that he did such a vile thing. Thinking of it that way made it less hurtful.

  She clung to Wyatt’s hand as they tramped across the prairie, needing the strength his presence provided. He was so patient and gentle with Lonnie. Whatever secrets he hid that had forced him to leave Lonnie with an abusive father, she grew more and more convinced he was a good man.

  They crossed the river and returned to the farm. When she saw Pa waiting at the end of the lane, Cora slipped her hand from Wyatt’s and eased away from his side.

  Pa sheltered his eyes with his hand and waited until they drew closer to speak. “I was beginning to get worried.”

  “Everyone is fine,” Cora said. “Lonnie lost track of the time.”

  “Ma saved some dinner for you. You’d best hurry in and eat it so she can clean up.”

  “Yes, Pa.” It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest Wyatt and Lonnie might like to eat, too, but at Pa’s look she hurried away. Just before she stepped inside, she glanced back. Pa and Wyatt were talking, while Lonnie made his way toward their camp.

  She’d check this afternoon and make sure they had plenty of food. After all, they were working in exchange for supplies.

  The kitchen was empty when she stepped inside. Ma would be napping and the twins were out doing something. Maybe they’d finish hoeing the garden and hilling the potatoes so she could go back to working on the barn.

  She quickly ate the cheese sandwiches Ma had left for her, then cleaned the kitchen.

  Ma came out as she finished. “You were gone a long time.”

  Cora explained how she’d gone with Wyatt to find Lonnie and discovered him upset about hurting the rabbit. “Can people broken inside be fixed?” she asked.

  Ma sat across from her and took her hands. “It’s a shame that people get their hearts and souls hurt. Usually it’s at the hands of another person. That is so wrong.” She shook her head. Her thumbs rubbed the back of Cora’s hands in a comforting way.

  Again, Cora’s heart welled with gratitude that she and the twins had been adopted by such loving parents.

  “I’m sure God can heal such a person,” Ma continued. “But often He uses other people to do it.” She thought a moment. “I expect God brought Wyatt and Lonnie here so we could be part of their healing. Especially Lonnie. That poor boy.” She’d told her parents how violent Wyatt’s father had been.

  Cora smiled. If God wanted her to be part of healing for Lonnie and Wyatt, she’d gladly do what she could.

  That afternoon she persuaded Wyatt she was fit as a fiddle and able to return to helping build the barn.

  “We’re doing the joists next.” His voice revealed a hefty dose of doubt.

  “I can help with that.” She eyed the timbers that would support the floor of the loft. No way would she shirk from helping with them. She pulled on her leather gloves. “I’m ready.”

  He quirked his eyebrows and signaled for Lonnie to bring a rope. Wyatt fashioned a pulley, then they carried a beam to the ladder and Wyatt climbed to the top of the walls. “Lonnie, you guide it.” Wyatt pulled the wood steadily upward.

  “What am I going to do?” Cora demanded.

  “Help Lonnie steady the beam.”

  Was he trying to appease her? But she stood with Lonnie and did as directed. One by one the beams were lifted up and nailed in place. And the afternoon slipped away.

  Wyatt climbed down and wiped his brow. He downed three dippers full of water and poured two more over his head.

  Cora watched the water wash over his skin and tried not to be distracted. How was she to be part of their healing if all they did was grunt and lift all day long? She turned to the ladder. “I want to see how it looks.” She climbed to the floor of the loft—or what would be the loft when the barn was completed. All it was now was open beams.

  She nodded her approval and began to back down but only got partway before Wyatt’s hands clamped around her waist and he lifted her to the ground. Her heart caught in her throat at the unexpected touch. She calmed her jittery nerves and turned to face him, determined to show him the kindness she experienced every day. “Thank you,” she murmured, and at the way he looked at her she could manage no more.

  At that moment, Ma crossed the yard toward them and Cora stepped back two feet, not wanting Ma to think she’d been acting inappropriately with their guest.

  “Would you please join us for supper?” Ma asked.

  Lonnie stiffened as if he feared to sit around the table with them, even though he’d been persuaded to join them for tea and cookies. Come to think of it, that day he’d perched on the edge of his chair the whole time, expecting danger and ready to flee.

  She shifted her gaze to Wyatt. He gave Lonnie a reassuring smile, then turned to Ma. “It’s most generous of you and we accept.”

  Cora wondered how it was that Wyatt wasn’t as fearful as Lonnie. Did it have something to do with his having to leave for a year? Or had it been a year? She tried to recall exactly what he’d said and realized she might have assumed the time period.

  Where had he been and what constituted an unavoidable reason?

  Chapter Seven

  Wyatt fought for mental equilibrium. When he’d noticed that the ladder was listing to one side with Cora partway down the rungs, he’d hurried to lift her down, never once thinking how she would feel to be swept off her feet in such an unceremonious way. When she’d turned to confront him, exuberant color had stained her cheeks.

  His own face had stung with embarrassment and his throat had closed off, making it impossible to explain why he’d done such a brash thing.

  He had about regained his voice when Mrs. Bell had extended her invitation.

  He should likely have refused her offer, but he was tired and didn’t feel like making a decent meal. Besides, if they were to learn about family from the Bells, he needed to spend time with them.

  He fell in beside Cora as they crossed to the house.

  But the first step inside the door caused him to hesitate, Lonnie at his back. The entire family gathered in the kitchen, Mr. Bell sitting at the end of the table, Lilly and Rose carrying steaming dishes forward.

  He didn’t belong here. If his past should be discovered, it would bring shame and disgrace to these innocent people. And he would lose something he grew to cherish more each day—the acceptance of a normal, loving family.

  He tried to back up but Lonnie pressed forward, making it impossible.

  “You can sit here.” Mrs. Bell indicated a chair.

  Still he hesitated, then he breathed a lungful of savory scents. A homemade meal sure beat beans and biscuits, even with fresh farm produce added. He stepped forward and sat on the chair.

  They all took their seats. Mrs. Bell sat at the opposite end of the table from her husband, Rose and Lilly facing him, Cora to his right and Lonnie to his left.

  “We’ll ask the blessing.” Mr. Bell held his hands toward a daughter on each side. The twins joined hands and reached for their mother’s.

  Cora held her hand toward Wyatt. He swallowed a huge lump. Was this what families did? Hold hands around the table? The idea lived and breathed welcome and acceptance.

  Again, he fought against allowing such feelings. But he meant to learn how a decent family behaved.

  Mrs. Bell had taken Lonnie’s hand.

  Wyatt felt his brother stiffen, and then he grabbed Wyatt’s hand and squeezed hard. Knowing how much Lonnie needed family lessons, Wyatt tried desperately to shed his caution. But he seemed stuck between wanting to guard the shame of his past
and wanting to move forward and take part in family life with the Bells.

  “Cora,” Mr. Bell said. “Let’s pray.”

  She placed her hand close to his plate, her fingers open and inviting.

  Wyatt stared at it, felt the expectant waiting from everyone at the table. He quickly considered his options: push away from the table and run from the room, giving up a hot meal that had his taste buds working hard, or hold hands with a young woman who had made him laugh, bossed him about and offered him something he couldn’t remember ever having—acceptance.

  He took her hand and bowed his head. Her warm fingers curled around his. A thousand emotions erupted inside him with such force he thought they’d explode from his skin—longing as deep as the deepest mine, hope as wide as the ocean and an emotion he could only name as anger. Anger at the way he’d been raised. At a violent father who had pushed Lonnie to the breaking point.

  The year Wyatt spent in prison had irrevocably changed him, making him less trusting, and it would always change how others viewed him.

  He even admitted a shred of anger toward his ma, who had seemed unable to stand up to her husband, and who had simply been a shadowy figure in the background. Though, he soothed his ruffled feelings, it hadn’t always been so. He remembered far better times, but they’d been swallowed up by the bad things that followed.

  Mr. Bell said, “Amen.”

  Wyatt didn’t know who jerked away faster—him or Cora. The girls passed the food around and chattered up a storm, making it unnecessary for Wyatt to make conversation. The conversation also made it possible for him to cork the bottle of his agitated emotions.

  “Ma and I are almost finished cleaning the garden shed,” Rose said.

  Beside him, Cora spread butter on a thick slice of homemade bread. “Good to hear.”

  Wyatt also buttered on his bread and bit down. His taste buds thanked him profusely. “Sweet-cream butter. It’s very good.”