by Nancy Pirri
She obliged him.
Good. The woman was sensible and smart. He smiled to himself. She was far from the quiet type. The element of surprise had changed what he guessed was usually a confident, bossy woman. But he’d also heard the softness in her voice, especially when she spoke about Mark.
He wasn’t fond of the name Mark, but hell, the boy was nearly eight now. Mark he’d remain.
The school door swung open, and a child’s voice shouted, “Annie!”
He centered his attention on a boy running toward them.
Mark! Cane recognized himself in the boy who had to be his son tearing down the walkway with black hair flying and dark brown eyes filled with joy. Then he noticed how Mark’s gaze was riveted on Annie. Turning toward the woman next to him, Cane’s heart wrenched at the aching love he saw on her face. For a fleeting moment, he had doubts about taking the child away from her and the only life he’d known since birth.
He hardened his heart. He deserved some happiness, some love in life, damn it all. He would find it with his son.
He hungrily watched Mark while the boy ran to Annie’s side of the wagon. She helped him scramble up onto the seat, then hugged him. Cane watched her take him into her arms, saw her breathe in deep to catch his little boy scent. Once again, Cane’s heart ached to hold the boy, but he couldn’t. He would have to take things slowly.
“You learning your arithmetic?” She tousled the mop of dark hair.
Mark nodded then pulled out of her arms and jammed his hands against the sides of his head. “No scrubbing my head! It’s not bath time.”
She laughed.
Cane was caught, mesmerized by how she looked even younger and prettier, as she grinned at his son.
The boy slanted his gaze away from Annie, turning serious when he faced Cane. His son stared at him for the longest time, his gaze riveted on him. After a while, he said, “You have black hair like me.”
Annie’s heart started racing at Mark’s words, and she saw the curious look in his eyes. It’d only been in recent months that he’d questioned why his father and sister had blonde hair while his own was black. Until he grew older, Annie and her father had decided they’d wait to tell him about his parentage, though they had informed him in the past year that they’d adopted him. She’d easily managed to divert his attention in the past but guessed it wouldn’t be easy for much longer. Especially if Cane Smith had his way.
“Yes, it is. Almost the same exact color.” Cane held out his hand. “I’m Cane Smith, a friend of your sister’s. I’ll bet you’re Mark, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” Mark pumped Cane’s hand, squeezing it as tight as he could. “Mark Callahan.”
Cane’s smile widened while he shook the boy’s hand. Annie couldn’t help but notice that Mark was a “chip off the old block.” Releasing Cane’s hand, Mark looked at Annie again.
“Can we go home? I’m hungry!”
“Of course! Mr. Smith is driving us home tonight. He’ll be having supper with us. How does that sound?”
“Great!” Mark shouted.
“Then let’s be on our way,” she said.
Mark settled between the two of them on the wooden seat and Cane snapped the reins to get the horse moving.
“What do you think Mrs. Williams made us for supper?” Mark asked.
“Mrs. Williams is under the weather today, so I’m cooking supper, honey.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “You are?” At her nod, he yelled, “Yippee! I like your cooking a lot better.”
“Mark! Mrs. Williams is a wonderful cook.”
“But not like you, Annie.” The boy turned a brilliant smile on Cane. “Annie makes the best fried chicken, and taters and cornbread.”
“Sounds mighty good,” Cane said.
To Annie’s mind, the man looked about ready to salivate. She wondered when he’d eaten last. She glanced at Mark. “How did you know I was making chicken?”
“Saw Pa kill a chicken this morning.”
“You watched?”
“Yup, sure did. You shoulda seen Pa wring his neck, then chop
its—”
“Enough. I believe you. Father knows I don’t want you watching such violence.”
“It’s not violence,” Cane interrupted.
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Nope. It’s a natural life cycle for an animal that we use for sustenance. Mark needs to learn these things. Your Pa’s right to show him.”
She frowned. “That may be, but not yet. Mark’s only seven years old.”
“Old enough.” Cane looked at Mark. “While your sis is cooking, we can talk and get to know each other.”
Giving Cane a coy look, Mark asked, “You play checkers?”
Cane nodded. “Sure do.”
“Woo-hoo!” Mark whooped with delight.
Annie smiled at Mark’s exuberance and glanced at Cane. He wore the biggest smile. The stone-faced, taciturn man’s expression softened as he gazed at Mark. She found it hard to believe him capable of having a soft bone in his body—for anything or anyone.
The wagon rumbled through town. They were just passing Katie’s Palace when Annie saw her friend Katie Freeman step outside with a broom, her two-year-old daughter, Melanie, on her heels with a smaller broom in hand.
Mark hollered, “Hi, Mrs. Freeman! Hi, Melanie!”
Katie waved and called out, “How you doing, Mark? Annie?”
“Stop a moment, please,” Annie said.
Cane stopped the horse in front of Katie.
Katie leaned on her broom. “Any chance you can serve on Saturday, Annie?”
“Serve, not cook?”
“Doc says since I’ll be having this baby any day, I need to put up my feet more often.” She grinned. “Tough to do running this place though. After I have the baby, I know I’ll need even more help. Judge Hoskins knows of a woman who needs employment so I’ll be meeting with her soon. For now, it would help if you served and I cooked. Think you can help me out on Sundays, too?”
“I’ll tell Father that you need me the extra hours. Are you and James prepared for the new baby?”
Just then, Katie’s husband, James Freeman, ambled outside. Pausing beside Katie, he took the broom from her hands and set it against the building. He scolded her, “Didn’t doc say you need bed rest, not work?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I’m going stir crazy!”
He hugged her as close as he could with her expanded stomach. “I know, but it won’t be for much longer.” He glanced up then. “Hey, Annie. How are you?”
“Just fine, thank you.” Annie looked between the two of them; saw the mock scowl on James’s face and the frown on Katie’s brow. “You two are more than ready for that baby to be born, aren’t you?”
“Baby!” Melanie exclaimed, excitement in her eyes.
James lifted Melanie in his arms, laughed and rubbed noses with her.
Annie laughed, marveling at the likeness between Katie and Melanie. Almost nine months to the day after James and Katie married, they had Melanie. It took another few years of praying for another child before Katie was pregnant again. Annie looked at James and saw his curiosity as he stared at Cane.
Where are my manners?
“Oh, uh, Katie, James? This is Cane Smith, newly arrived from Texas.”
James stepped forward and reached across Annie. “We’ve met before, briefly,” James said.
Cane took James’s hand. “Thanks for passing on the letter to the judge. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” James stepped back from the wagon and looked at Annie, then Cane. “How long you going to be in Bozeman?”
“I’m staying permanently. Looking for some land to raise cattle and horses.”
“When you get a chance, take a look at the Ames place south of here twenty miles or so. It just went up for a sale. It’s a prime piece of property, so I don’t expect it to be unsold for long.”
Cane nodded. “Thanks for the tip.”
>
“We need to get home,” Annie said. She smiled at Katie. “See you Saturday.”
“I really do appreciate your help, Annie.” Katie’s gaze slid to Cane. “So how long have the two of you known each other?”
James warned, “Honey…”
Annie laughed. “I should have mentioned that we just met. Cane has business with Father.”
“I see,” Katie said.
Annie met Katie’s curious eyes and tried communicating through her own. I’ll tell you later. “We have to get home for supper.”
“I’ll see you Saturday then.”
Cane tipped his hat to Katie and a nod to James before slapping the horse’s rump with the leads. The sun had nearly set by the time they reached the Moonstruck Ranch. Mark scrambled down from the wagon and tore into the house. “Pa! Pa! We’re home, and Annie’s cooking us supper!”
Annie went to leave the wagon and found Cane standing with his arms raised to help her down. She bit her lower lip with indecision. He made the decision for her when he wound his hands around her waist and easily plucked her from her seat. “I don’t bite,” he said softly.
She raised her brow. “Oh! That’s good to hear.”
Cane chuckled. Annie’s face heated up in embarrassment.
On the ride home, she’d thought about the premonition at the schoolhouse. Could this be the man threatening to take Mark from her?
Chapter 2
Cane liked the fact she was cautious around him. Caution had been his friend on more than one occasion. He took Annie’s arm, ready to release her if she showed any signs of reluctance. When she didn’t, he was surprised. He frowned then and thought most everyone who crossed his path, before and after his imprisonment, was wary around him.
She held up her skirt as she climbed the steps ahead of him. Cane gulped when he saw her slim, delicate ankles. Lordy, but she was a beauty, and such a lady. Reaching around her, he opened the door to the big ranch house, and she swept in ahead of him.
He stood uneasily in the hallway with his hat in his hand. The interior of the house held a gracious yet rustic quality, same as the exterior. Highly polished wood floors smelled of wax. To the right was a large, square dining room with a beautifully crafted table and chairs covered in fabric-tufted cushions. A chandelier dripping with small crystals shone with a warm sparkle. He saw several open doors to his left and guessed these led to other rooms such as a parlor, library and, of course, the kitchen.
“Wait here while I find my father,” Annie said and rushed down the hallway.
Suddenly he felt self-conscious in his dusty dungarees and sweat-stained chambray shirt. He touched his bristly jaw-line and grimaced. He should have gotten a place in town where he could shave and clean up before he went hunting for his son. Too late now.
He saw the second door down the hall open. A short, muscular man with blonde hair and graying temples, dressed in shirtsleeves strode toward him. Annie followed. Cane braced himself, ready to battle the man until he caught a twinkle in the older man’s eyes despite his serious expression. Cane liked Annie’s father immediately.
“Annie doesn’t often bring company home.” The man offered his hand, and Cane shook it. “I’m Tom Callahan.”
“Cane Smith. Annie probably told you we need to talk.”
Callahan nodded.
While the man didn’t make it obvious, Cane caught the older man’s swift, assessing gaze and straightened up, silently waiting for the older man’s condemnation.
“Come into my library.”
Cane followed Callahan, Annie at his side. Outside the library door, he stopped short and took his daughter’s hand. “Go see to supper, honey.”
“But—”
“I’ll let you know all that we talked about later.”
Cane saw the gentle but firm look on Callahan’s face. Cane expected fireworks to start any moment. Cane had seen his share of headstrong women in his life and he expected this spitfire to protest. Annie’s face clouded with indecision, then she gave a curt nod. Surprised, he watched her turn on her heel to leave them.
“Mr. Smith?”
Cane felt heat rush into his cheeks when he found Callahan waiting, watching him. Cane lurched into a library, filled floor to ceiling with books on three walls of the room. Astonished, Cane could only stare at the volumes, his eyes and mind eager to delve into them one at a time.
Behind him, Callahan said, “Please, sit down. So, you claim to be Mark’s natural father. What proof do you have?” Callahan took a seat behind a desk.
Cane set his hat down on a corner of the desk and sank into a seat across from Callahan, digging inside his shirt pocket. He pulled out the letter encased in its envelope and handed it over. He watched the older man peruse the address on the envelope before removing the letter. He unfolded it and read it. Within moments, he looked at Cane and heaved a deep sigh.
“It appears what you say is true.” Chagrined, he added, “Truthfully, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew Mark was your blood kin. You know it’ll be difficult to pull him away from Annie, don’t you?”
Cane nodded. “She seems real attached to the boy.”
“Correct observation. I am, too, of course. Why were you in prison, son?”
“Train robbery.”
“I’m assuming you didn’t do it since you’re a free man now. Or are you?”
Cane didn’t expect the question and hesitated in replying for a moment. “It was a case of mistaken identity. When I finally had the evidence to clear myself, I wrote to Judge Hopkins, who re-opened the case and freed me.”
“After all these years,” Callahan said. “Wish you’d gotten out sooner. We’ve had Mark with us since a few days after his birth. Needless to say, he’s part of our family.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Cane’s eyes felt gritty. “I’ve no home and not much to offer Mark, but I am his father. And I promise I’ll do everything I can to make a good home for him.”
“But will you be able to love him?” Callahan softly inquired.
“I already do.”
Callahan studied Cane. “I believe you. So how do you plan on making a home for him?”
“I like Bozeman. I’m thinking of settling here. I heard there was land for sale. Have you heard of any good acreage?”
“For sure there are several parcels. I’ll get hold of a newspaper so you can check them out. I noticed you came here with Annie and gather you’ve no horse or wagon?”
“No. I’ll buy a horse in town tomorrow.”
“I’ve horses for sale you may want to take a look at.”
“I’ll do that. Now maybe you can give me some advice as to how to get Mark from your daughter’s clutches.”
Callahan laughed. “I’ll talk to her, but you know she’s got a real stubborn streak.”
“Hmm, she didn’t give you any grief about not sitting in on this meeting.”
“Yes, I’ve got to admit her compliance surprised me.”
“How so?”
“It means one of two things. She’s getting’ her eggs in order and making plans to fight us, or she’s in agreement with us.”
“I’ve a feeling it’s the first one.”
“You may be right.” Callahan rose from his chair. “This may be easier than it seems. We recently informed Mark that we’d adopted him as an infant.”
“That’s good,” Cane said.
“Don’t discount the fact though that it’ll still be difficult pulling Mark away from the only family and home he’s ever known. I suggest we do this in stages.”
Cane frowned. “Now how would we do that? We tell him or we don’t, and the second is not an option.”
Callahan nodded. “I understand, but it would behoove all of us to take this slow and easy. We don’t want to frighten him. He’ll be confused enough once we do tell him.”
Cane stood as well. “Sounds reasonable, and, since I do plan on staying in the vicinity, I don’t think that should be a problem.”
&n
bsp; “Good.” Callahan walked with Cane to the door. “Once Mark gets used to seeing you around, once he grows comfortable around you, we’ll tell him. It’ll be hard for him, though, no matter what and when.”
“Yes, I suspect it will, but he’ll adjust.”
“Eventually,” Callahan replied.
“What exactly do you propose at that point?”
Callahan swung open the door. “Allow me to think about it overnight. We’ll meet up again in the morning.”
“Then I’d better head back to town. I haven’t found a room yet.”
“Nonsense! You’re our guest. Stay as long as you like—even until you get your own spread. We’ve plenty of room here.” A broad smile covered Callahan’s face. “It’s nearly time for supper, Mr. Smith.” He took a deep breath, then released it. “Do you smell that chicken? And baking powder biscuits?”
“Call me Cane. And, yes, I do. Better than anything I’ve smelled in years.”
Callahan led the way to the kitchen. “Yes, my Annie’s one of the best cooks around. Not only does she take care of the house and cook, she works at Katie’s Palace, in town, cooking meals.”
“Yes, I met the owners, James and Katie Freeman today.”
“Good,” the older man nodded. “Yessir, Annie will make some man a wonderful wife someday.”
“I’m sure she will, sir,” Cane muttered, pulling at his collar uncomfortably as he followed Callahan down the hallway.
Eating supper like a civilized human being, sitting at a table, made Cane squirm inside. He’d spent years in a jail cell, eating scraps off a tin plate with his fingers. Prisoners weren’t allowed eating utensils for fear of “picking” their way out of jail, or injuring or killing a guard.
Cane passed through the dining room and paused in the kitchen doorway. His gaze fell on Mark who squirmed in his chair, tapping his fork impatiently on the table. Cane smiled. He recalled being seven—nearly eight—and being so hungry he’d done the same thing…until his mother scolded him to sit still like a gentleman.
Then he looked at Annie who stood at the stove, forking pieces of cooked chicken from a cast iron skillet onto a platter. They were golden brown and steaming hot. Suddenly, Cane’s stomach rumbled so loudly all eyes settled on him.
