The Cowboy Comes Home

by Linda Ford

  “I think it’s something we all struggle with. Remember how I have a needy faith? That’s part of it. Standing back and knowing I’m helpless is a terrible feeling. I need security. You asked if I trusted God or needed to see before I believed.”

  “I wasn’t questioning your faith.”

  “Well, I honestly don’t know which it is. I know God is my rock and salvation. I know He holds my future, and that’s a comfort. But I’m not sure I believe it’s enough. I watch families move away with all their possessions piled in the back of a truck. They have nothing left. How do they go on?”

  “There is always hope.”

  “Hope is a pretty little balloon that won’t last until morning.”

  He chuckled. “I guess if it’s full of hot air, that would be true. What if it’s full of something permanent, like God’s promises? It wouldn’t collapse or blow away then.”

  She stared into the blue distance as a bubble of something looking clearly like hope but feeling more solid landed in her soul. A verse her father had her memorize many years ago came to mind. “‘Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters.’”

  “Exactly. It’s not a balloon, but a solid tree.”

  “I like that. It feels secure.”

  “I better get to work.” He touched the brim of his hat.

  “Me, too.” It wasn’t until she was back in the house that she recalled Abe’s request for a birthday party for Robbie. What would a six-year-old boy want? She had only sisters, and they had loved dress up and tea parties. Robbie would obviously not like such things.

  As she finished the breakfast dishes and tidied the house, she tried to come up with a plan. She wanted this party to be remarkable. She wanted to prove to Abe that she could manage anything he and his family required. But by midmorning she was no closer to a solution.

  She watched out the window as Linc showed Robbie how to hang a gate. A smile tipped her lips and cheered her heart. Linc had once been a little boy. He would know what boys liked for a party. She waited until he headed back to the barn, leaving Robbie with some thinned paint and a brush, then went to talk to him.

  She paused in the doorway and waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloomy interior. The squeal of spikes being pulled from old wood indicated his location. “Linc?”

  “I’m over here.”

  She could see him now. “You used to be a little boy.”

  His grin gently mocked her. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

  “I guess I didn’t need to point it out. I only meant to say I have never been nor known any little boys really well, and now Abe wants me to plan a special birthday party for Robbie, and I have no idea what he’d like.”

  Linc’s arm fell to his side, the hammer dangling at his knee. “You’re asking me for help?”

  He needn’t act so surprised. “Advice, at least. What would he like?”

  Linc leaned against the stall and grinned. “I know exactly what he’d like.” He glanced around like a coconspirator, leaned close and whispered, “A pony to ride.”

  “Oh, perfect! But I don’t know anyone with ponies. Most people can’t afford to feed pets like that.”

  His grin deepened, making her thoughts feel as if they had boarded balloons and were trying to soar or escape or—she punctured the balloons. She could not allow such nonsense.

  “I know someone. Leave the pony to me.” He must have seen the lingering doubt in her eyes. “Okay?”

  Would Abe consider it suitable, safe for his son? “I better check with Abe first and get his permission.” She turned her steps toward the house, then stopped. “I hope he agrees. Robbie would be thrilled.”

  Later, after supper was over and the kitchen cleaned she would normally hurry away, but Sally needed to talk to Abe. Alone. He’d said he hoped she would talk to him whenever she wanted, but she struggled to find the words to make this simple request. What was wrong with her that she turned into a tongue-tied child at the thought? Shouldn’t she be able to speak her thoughts and wishes to him freely? After all, if they were to marry, she couldn’t continue to feel so immature around him, but something about Abe made her anxious and uncertain of herself. She sucked in a deep breath. She must overcome this shyness.

  He sat in his chair reading some documents. He preferred the children play quietly after their meal, so Robbie moved a little car across the floor and Carol colored a picture.

  All she had to do was ask him to come to the kitchen. Or even go outside and walk around the yard. Instead, she wiped the table again and rehearsed her words.

  “You’re still here?” He stood in the doorway. “I thought you’d be gone.”

  Why should he think so? She always said goodbye before she left, and she hadn’t done so. But his presence in the room gave her an opportunity to voice her question. “I wanted to speak to you before I leave.”

  “Go ahead.” He filled a glass of water.

  She lowered her voice. “I thought of having a Western-themed party for Robbie’s birthday.”

  “Sounds fine.”

  “I’d like to have a live pony for the children to ride.”

  The glass of water, halfway to his mouth, stalled and he slowly lowered it. “Do you have a pony?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you familiar with how to control one?”

  “No, but Mr. McCoy offered to bring a pony and he knows about horses.” She waited as Abe studied her, silently exploring her expression.

  “Linc McCoy?”

  She nodded.

  He turned away as if he needed time to consider his answer. Then slowly faced her again. “I wanted to give McCoy a chance. I just didn’t think it would involve my children.”

  A hundred defenses sprang to her mind. Wisely, she held them back, except for one. “It isn’t like he’d be alone with the children.” Though what difference that made, she couldn’t say. Linc posed no threat to anyone, least of all a dozen children. But her answer seemed to satisfy Abe.

  “Very well, but I want the pony to be under adult control at all times.” He drained his glass and set it down. “I would not want any harm to come to my children—any of the children.”

  “I assure you they will all be safe.” She washed his glass and returned it to the cupboard. “I’m leaving now.” She called a goodbye to the children.

  Would Linc ride down the road again? She could hardly wait to tell him Abe had given permission to proceed with the party. But she reached the turnoff to her house without seeing him. She paused and looked down the road, hoping to spot an approaching rider.

  The road was as empty as the rain barrel at the side of the house.

  It didn’t matter. She’d see him tomorrow. But try as she did, she couldn’t deny how her heart practically burst with a need to talk to him, tell about her day, discuss ideas for the party.

  Angry at herself for such foolishness, she stuffed the idea into a corner in the far reaches of her mind and resolutely turned her steps toward home.

  Linc glanced out the window. From where he sat at his pa’s bedside, he saw only the bright blue sky. He’d hoped to take Red out for a run. The horse needed to stretch his legs. Linc barely acknowledged the fact that if he was out there at this moment, he would likely overtake Sally on her way home. But Pa was restless today and Linc couldn’t, in good conscience, leave him.

  “What did you do today, boy?”

  He told how he’d begun removing the stalls at one end of the barn in order to make room for Mr. Finley’s car. “I told you about the children. Well, seems Robbie is about to turn six and his father says it calls for a birthday party. Sally didn’t know what a boy would like, so I suggested a pony for the kids to ride.”

  “Sally? That the name of the woman who is going to be the new stepmother?”

  Abe had a big solid house, a good job. He could provide security. Everything Sally wanted and needed. A needy faith, she’d said, and
her words made him understand so much more. Sally wasn’t one to take risks. Still, hearing his own father talk as if Sally was already Abe’s wife made his throat spasm. Aware his pa watched him, he tried for a grin and missed. “Yeah, that’s her.” His voice betrayed him, sounding regretful rather than the nonchalant tone he aimed for.

  “Uh-huh. Tell me about her.”

  “She seems like a good woman.” It wasn’t enough for Pa, so Linc provided details of Sally’s family.

  “Sounds like a good family,” Pa said.

  “I expect they are.” Which about said it all. The Morgans were a good family, and the McCoys would never achieve a similar status. Good thing Sally planned to marry Abe. Now there was a good, upstanding man. After all, he’d even considered it his duty to give Linc a chance.

  Not that Linc wasn’t grateful. He glanced at the medicine bottle he could now refill. Yes, he was very grateful.

  Though at the moment, he felt like Robbie. He wanted to find a shovel and whack something.

  “You’re a good boy, Linc,” his father murmured. “Don’t let anyone make you think differently.”

  Linc nodded. He could hardly point out that others thought differently, mostly thanks to the way Pa had acted after Ma died. But as he thought of Sally marrying Abe simply for security, he thought he understood a little better why Pa had gone a little crazy. Not that Linc would do so, but he couldn’t abide the notion that Sally would settle for anything less than love and happiness simply for the sake of feeling safe.

  It was almost dark before Pa settled and Linc felt free to ride Red away from town. He always took the same direction. Only now it wasn’t simply to avoid passing Mrs. Ogilvy’s house. Now it was because it took him the direction of the Morgan house. He rode to the turnoff, slowed enough to give the place a good study and was rewarded by the sight of Sally leaving a small fenced area he assumed was a garden spot. He watched until she stepped into the house, then he reined around and returned home.

  He only wanted to assure himself she was safe and sound at home. He was only slightly disappointed to miss a visit with her. Or so he tried to convince himself, without much success.

  The next morning, Sally hurried from the house before he made it halfway across the yard to the barn. “Abe says we can have a pony. He thought it was a fine idea. Isn’t that great?” Her eyes sparkled like a precious gemstone. “He only says someone has to lead the pony at all times.” She sobered a fraction. “Can you really get a pony?”

  If only her pleasure was because they would be working together, not because Abe approved the party plans. “I know a man who’ll lend me one. And I can certainly be in charge of it during the party, if that’s acceptable.” Perhaps Sally, or Abe, would object to a McCoy associating with the fine children of the Golden Prairie residents.

  “Knowing you were in charge would give me utmost confidence.” She clasped her hands and looked excited. “I know Robbie is going to be so happy.” She paused. “Do you think we should keep it a secret?”

  We? She put the two of them in the same thought? He tried not to let the idea fill him with sweet pleasure but failed miserably. Yes, it was only for Robbie’s party. It was only so Sally could please Abe, but nevertheless, the words rang with all sorts of possibilities.

  She looked puzzled as she tried to decide what was best. “What would please Robbie more? To know ahead of time or have the pony as a surprise?”

  Back to the subject at hand. “I think it would be hard for him to wait patiently. Why not keep it a secret?”

  “Right.” She tipped her head and her smile deepened, sending bright green shards through her irises. “There’s so much to think about when raising children.”

  “It’s likely easier if you’ve known them from birth.”

  Her smile faded slowly. “I wonder if I’ll make a good stepmother.”

  He wanted to tell her to forget about being a stepmother, think about being—

  He wouldn’t allow himself to finish the thought, even though he knew he meant to say, Think about being my wife. The mother of my children. He knew he could never give her the solid acceptance Abe could. But again the troubling thought of last night surfaced—was security enough for a good marriage? But the worry lines creasing her forehead made him want to give her assurance. “You sincerely care about the children. I think that’s important.”

  She nodded. “I hope so.”

  Linc noticed she hadn’t said she loved them. Did she love Abe? He tried to convince himself he hoped she did because he didn’t want to think of her in a loveless marriage. Would she choose such an arrangement simply to get the things she needed? Or thought she needed? He pushed away all disobedient, wayward feelings.

  Yet errant thoughts flitted about like wild birds. She honored and valued a good name. He could not offer that, though given time, perhaps the McCoy name would stand for something besides suspicion.

  He shifted his gaze to the big house. He thought of Abe’s position in town and forced himself to acknowledge he had nothing to offer her. He had to remember it.

  In the meantime he would help her make Robbie’s birthday party a roaring success. If it enabled her to achieve her goal of becoming Abe’s wife, he must console himself with the knowledge it was what Sally wanted. And he wanted what was best for her.

  If only he could convince himself Abe Finley was better than a McCoy. Others would have no difficulty telling Sally it was so, but Linc believed he was equal to Abe in matters of honor and trust.

  Did his friendship give him the right to ask Sally what she thought?

  Chapter Nine

  She was going to do this in a spectacular fashion. Sally spent hours creating invitations for each child in the shape of a cowboy hat. Besides date and time, the invitation instructed the children to wear clothing suitable for a cowboy party. Mothers of little girls in frilly dresses wouldn’t want their darlings riding a pony. Nor would they want their little boys to get horse hair all over their Sunday best pants.

  The day of the party arrived. Guests weren’t due until after lunch, but she wondered if Robbie would last until then.

  “What’s the surprise?” he asked for the umpteenth time.

  Sally smiled patiently, enjoying his excitement. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise and I’d ruin it for you.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  It was Saturday, so Abe was home. He spoke to his son. “Robbie, you have to wait. Is your room clean?” He didn’t need to ask Carol. She kept hers spotless, as if afraid to have anything out of place. Sally understood it for what it was—an attempt to be in command of her life. Like Sally, she’d learned the value of being in charge of those things she could manage. Life had too many things she had no control over.

  Robbie wolfed down his lunch and bolted from the table. “Is it time to start?” Robbie stared at the big grandfather clock in the front room. “Is the clock running okay?”

  “See for yourself.” The huge pendulum swung back and forth with patient regularity.

  He sighed and moved to stare out the window. “Maybe I better get ready in case someone comes early.”

  Abe looked at Sally and shrugged as if to say he was fine with the idea.

  “You might be right. Run up and change.” She had helped him create a real Western outfit, complete with a cowboy hat Linc had located, a vest on which she’d sewn fringes and trousers with a fringe down each leg.

  He was halfway up the stairs before she finished speaking. Carol followed at a sedate pace. Sally had added a fringe to a dark skirt she found in Carol’s closet and decorated a matching vest for her. Linc had donated a cowboy hat that was once his mother’s.

  The children returned a few a minutes later. They looked great. Abe had not seen the outfits, and blinked at first glance.

  Sally’s throat clamped tight. Had she made a mistake in letting the kids dress up? Was he expecting Sunday outfits? “It’s a Western-themed party,” she murmured, although he knew.

&n
bsp; “Of course.” He shifted his gaze to the children, allowing Sally to draw in a steadying breath. “You look like…” His pause was noticeably long. “Little cowboys.”

  A knock signaled their first guest. With relief, she took in the cowboy outfit the boy wore. One by one the children arrived, and all were dressed appropriately for the day’s activities.

  With Linc’s help, Sally had set up Western-themed games—a sawhorse with a saddle for the kids to play on, another sawhorse with a piece of wood to resemble a cow’s head and a lariat so the kids could practice roping it. She’d drawn the heads of several animals—a sheep, a cow, a horse, a dog—on a sheet of wood, and Linc had cut holes where the mouths were, so it became a beanbag throw game.

  With Linc’s help she soon had all the children involved in the games. After a bit, when things seemed under control, Linc slipped away. They’d worked it out that he would bring the pony from the front of the yard so the kids wouldn’t see it until it was right there.

  Sally grinned. Things were going extremely well.

  Mrs. Anthony, mother of one of the little boys, must have thought the same. “This is a lovely party, Abe.” She sounded genuinely pleased. “Sally has done a good job.”

  Only a few feet away, Sally heard every word, though she wondered if the woman was aware of the fact.

  Mrs. Anthony continued. “It appears the McCoy man has helped her.”

  Sally stole a look at Abe for his reaction.

  Abe glanced around the yard. “He’s made the place fairly gleam.”

  “You did right giving him a chance to prove himself.” Mrs. Anthony nodded approval as she followed Abe’s gaze to the newly painted fence and the other improvements, courtesy of Linc.