by Jodi Thomas
“I am,” she said and bowed slightly. “Elliot, right?”
He tried to dance like the stranger, but his skill was poor at best. Bethany didn’t seem to notice. Her skill barely matched his, but damn if she didn’t feel good in his arms.
It had been so long since he’d held a woman, he’d forgotten how good they could feel.
They were halfway up to the landing when Elliot looked back and noticed Creed was just standing there. His feet seemed to be stuck to the floor. The tall, thin foreman still had his hat on, reminding Elliot of a Western floor lamp.
The third cousin, Apple, swayed as she headed toward the foreman. Her dark red pajama top, made to look like a man’s shirt, fit her just right, even if it did clash with her black-and-white-striped hair.
Her eyes were the color of a winter sunset. Or at least he thought they both were. He’d only seen one. The other eye was covered by the strands of skunk-colored hair.
She twirled to the music, caught the corner of the coffee table and stumbled into Creed’s arms.
To Creed’s obvious shock, she passed right out. For a moment he just stood there, as if someone had tossed him a newborn and he had no idea how to handle it.
Finally, he slid his arm beneath her legs and picked her up. Slowly, he carried her toward the stairs. When he reached the steps, he glanced at Elliot, silently asking for help, but Elliot had his hands full, and all he could do was motion for Creed to follow.
Since the three were already wearing their pj’s, the men put them in the three guest bedrooms, covered them up and rushed back out into the hallway. Then, like frightened boys, not gentlemen, they ran down the stairs.
“You think we got them in the right rooms?” Creed whispered as if he might wake them.
“Who cares? I’m just hoping they stay there. Come morning, they can straighten it out.” Elliot glanced over at the desserts stacked on the breakfast table. “I say we don’t let their snacks go to waste. Dancing cousins up the stairs burns a great many calories.”
Ten minutes later they were drinking the last of the coffee and laughing when Dani walked through the side door that opened to her kitchen.
She took one look at them and froze. “What are you men up to?” As the mother of sons, she recognized mischief, even in grown men.
Elliot told the housekeeper what they’d done, then introduced her to the new man. “Tye used to rodeo, Dani. He’s used to handling wild stock and wild women, I’d guess.”
“I’m sure he is.” She offered her hand, and Tye smiled without saying a word.
Elliot thought the ex-rodeo man held her hand a bit longer than necessary, but they were both old enough to gauge time.
As everyone parted in different directions, Elliot couldn’t help but think that Tye and Dani might become friends. Maybe this cook would stay around a little longer if she had someone her age to talk to now and then.
When Creed hesitated at the door, Elliot whispered, “Bring Tye over here for breakfast tomorrow. He’s hired. Maybe he should sit between Dani’s sons. The last time I invited them to the table, they got in a fight and broke half a dozen plates. If that cowboy can handle cousins, he can be the referee between the Garrett twins.”
“I could leave them in the bunkhouse. The men take turns frying up eggs and bacon. Dani always sends over enough biscuits or cinnamon rolls to go around.”
“No, I promised them they’d get to see their mother every morning. I’m not sure if they need to know she’s all right since she moved out, or if they just miss her cooking. She told me she tried everything to get them to grow up last year when they both finished high school. When they didn’t, she decided it wasn’t worth the arguing, so she just moved off the farm and left them with the chores.”
Creed nodded. “Pete claimed he wouldn’t leave home until Patrick did. After all, Patrick’s the oldest by five minutes. He should go first. Short of starving them, she had no option.”
Elliot agreed. “She loves them.”
“Yeah, boss, the way a mother possum loves her babies no matter how ugly they are.”
“Thanks for your help tonight.”
“Anytime, boss. I got the easy one tonight. If she remembers me carrying her to bed, she’ll probably cuss me out in the morning. I might ride out to the far pasture with the Garrett boys.”
Elliot didn’t argue. He just closed the door and smiled. If Sunlan didn’t show up soon, he might have to bring in reinforcements. A visit he’d thought might be just a weekend was stretching longer, with no mention of when they’d be leaving.
CHAPTER SIX
December 14
LONG, THIN BEAMS of light flickered into the cabin through cracks in the boards around the front door. Cooper rolled over, realizing the fire had gone out sometime during the night. He remembered tossing the extra blanket over the kid before the air chilled.
He opened one eye and groaned.
The blankets were there, but the boy was missing.
Before all his brain cells were awake, Cooper considered the possibility that he’d dreamed of having a kid as a cabin guest. Only he never dreamed about anything except wild horses and naked women.
No, the boy was real. He didn’t have that much imagination to fill in all the details. Light blue eyes set in a thin little face. Hair the color of sand. Clothes worn and dirty. He’d said his name was Tatum.
“Tatum?” Cooper said aloud.
No answer.
Cooper sat up and pulled on his boots as his eyes adjusted to the shadowy light between the sunbeams. The blanket he’d layered over the kid was folded. The coffee cup and Tatum’s bowl were gone, along with the spoons they’d used last night.
Footsteps stomped outside on the porch. Cooper leaned back and pretended to be asleep.
The boy, wrapped in a blanket tied around his neck like a cape, slipped through the door. He carried the tin dishes in one hand and a few logs tucked under his arm.
Cooper watched as he set down the bowl, both spoons and the cup, then—with no skill—tried to start the fire in the old iron stove.
“You need some help?” Cooper asked, his voice low and calm.
To his credit, the boy didn’t spook easy. In fact, he didn’t even look up from his task.
“If you show me, mister, I’ll learn.” The boy finally turned to face him. “I got to figure things out by myself most of the time, but you could help.”
Cooper sat up. “Lighting a fire in a hundred-year-old stove isn’t something I’d think you need to know. Shouldn’t we be talking about how to get you home? I’ve already let you stay too long. You looked so hungry a few days ago I wasn’t sure you’d have the energy to hike down.”
Tears filled the boy’s eyes, but he blinked them away. “I ain’t got no home.”
“Parents?”
The boy shook his head. “My dad died before I was born. He was in the army. That’s all I know. My mom was killed in a car wreck when I was in the first grade. No one ever told me much about it. A woman just came and got me in a big blue car and took me to my grandma’s house. She packed my clothes in a trash bag and said my grandma said not to bring any junk like toys.”
“What about other relatives?”
“Only had one grandma. She said she had a daughter, but she never came around. I don’t think they got along. My grandma didn’t wake up a few weeks ago. Her hand was cold when I touched her, so I got dressed and went to school. When I told my teacher, she took me to the office and made me wait there for a policeman. He took me back home to talk to my grandma, but she was still cold. The policeman told me not to touch her.”
“What happened then?”
“A nosy neighbor saw the police car and came over. Grandma and her weren’t friends. They just yelled at each other now and then about the trash spilling over or the lady parking in Grandma’s spot.” He looked lik
e he might cry, then he shrugged and continued, “The neighbor said I carry death wherever I go, so I been thinking I got to live on my own.”
“How old are you, Tatum?”
“Nine. I’m small for my age, but my grandma said I’ll grow. I can read and write. I read all the mail to her.”
“You remember what her address was?” Cooper asked.
Every time the boy said something, a dozen more questions popped up. Suddenly, Cooper saw panic in his shy blue eyes and fear so deep it seemed a permanent part of him. He held one of the logs in a warrior’s grip and twice he’d taken a step backward toward the door as if it might be time to run.
Cooper could smell the desperation.
The questions faded from Cooper’s mind. They’d wait. He had to gain this kid’s trust first. Cooper looked over at the stove. “I’ll show you how to light a fire since you washed the dishes. Seems like a fair trade. Then, after breakfast, we’ll talk.”
Slowly, as if moving toward a wild colt, Cooper showed him how to build a fire. While the kid poked at the blaze, Coop grabbed the nearest can on the shelf.
“Chili sound good for breakfast?”
“Sure, mister.”
“You drink coffee?”
“Sure.”
Cooper grinned. “Nothing better than chili and coffee at dawn.” He pulled down the camp coffeepot, washed out the cobwebs and filled it with water from the two-gallon jug he’d brought. “My dad told me once that my grandfather put the grounds in a sock to boil, but I use a filter.”
The kid watched each step.
As the chili and water boiled, Cooper poured Tatum’s cup half-full of milk. Soon after, breakfast was ready.
They ate in silence for a while, then Cooper leaned back in his chair. “Nothing better than hot coffee on a cold morning.”
Tatum had to push with his toes to lean even an inch back. “Nothing better,” he added.
Cooper reminded himself to latch the small cooler holding milk and cookies and set it aside. The luxuries would be gone soon. One by one, along with the candy bars, they’d disappear and he’d be down to trail mix and canned goods. Now, with the boy here, his supplies would be eaten fast. When he took the boy home, he’d be wise to pick up extra. If they started soon, they could be home before dark and call the sheriff to come pick up the kid. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to come back. The cousins might not even know he was near if he slept in the bunkhouse.
The kid ate the rest of the crackers with his chili.
“You want more?”
Tatum eyed the cooler with the cookies.
“How about we have cookies for dessert?”
“Dessert comes with breakfast?”
“Out in the wild you eat what you have, and we got cookies.” Cooper pitched him two small bags. “Take your time. We’ll need to feed the horses, then head down when breakfast is over. Like it or not, even folks who live wild need supplies, and they need to check in now and then.”
The boy gobbled up the dessert, too busy eating to ask questions. Cooper leaned back, drinking his coffee slowly. “You don’t carry death, Tatum. That’s not what people do. You had nothing to do with the people around you dying.”
“I do.” Innocent eyes stared up at Cooper, and the boy added, “The neighbor wasn’t the first to tell me I was nothing but trouble. My mom used to say my dad wouldn’t have re-upped for three more years if I hadn’t been born. I figured if I walked far enough away from town, I could live like a wolf off the land, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought. I was about ready to give up, but I knew I could never find the way back. Then I saw you sitting up on that ledge. I thought maybe you were someone like me—one of the wolf people. I headed toward you to ask directions, but I found this cabin first. I swear I wasn’t going to steal more than I could eat.”
“Where you from?” Cooper kept his voice low, casual, as if they were simply passing time. “We got to be honest with each other, Tatum. That’s how it works out here in the wild.”
Tatum looked up as if suspecting a trap. “Oklahoma. The morning Grandma died, I heard the neighbor say I didn’t have any kin to go to. She said I was half-wild and they should take me to the pound. The policeman said he’d call someone to come pick me up. He looked around and noticed I’d vanished.”
He looked at Cooper. “I knew what that meant. The lady in the blue car was coming and the next place would be worse than where I was. I didn’t want to go with her.
“I was hiding inside the back of Grandma’s old couch. The back was ripped just enough for me to slip in. The cop searched the whole house but couldn’t find me. When he and the neighbor went outside to look for me in the sheds, I stuffed my backpack with anything I thought I might need and slipped away. I caught the school bus a block over. Darted in the back and hid in the last seat when everyone else got off.”
Cooper was impressed. “None of that means you carry death with you.”
“Yeah, it does. I got to keep moving. I got to learn to live off the land. If rabbits and squirrels do it, I should be able to. Grandma said I was smart.”
“How’d you get to Texas?”
“At the bus barn I heard the men talking. One said he was taking a load of football players to watch a game at Texas Tech. While they were gassing up I hid behind the last seat. It wasn’t comfortable, but I was warm. When the driver stopped outside Lubbock for a potty stop, I climbed out. I just started walking.”
Cooper leaned closer. “Lubbock is almost thirty miles from here. The rest stop is maybe another twenty or more.”
“I don’t know how to figure miles. I just walked all day and slept in the bar ditches so no one would see me. A few times folks stopped to offer me a ride, but I told them I was close to home. I picked smaller roads whenever I could. They finally ran out so I followed trails. From then on I just slept in tall grass and headed toward the sunrise every morning so I wouldn’t go in circles.
“Once I found the stream, I followed it. At least I had water. My food ran out the third day. About the time I thought I might starve, I found a grove of pecan trees. It took me a while to figure out how to crack them.”
“Where were you heading?”
“I don’t know. Just away from people. My grandma told me if she hadn’t taken me in I’d have to go to a bad place where no one would ever care about me.” A fat tear drifted down Tatum’s dirty face. “I’d rather stay out here and eat nuts. I got water. Until it got so cold yesterday, I was doing fine. If I can just figure out how to stay warm, I can survive.”
Cooper studied him, almost believing the nine-year-old might just be able to do it. “I have to take you back, Tatum. It’s not safe out here alone.”
“You’re out here alone.”
“I’m here to doctor a herd of wild horses. It’s my job. I won’t be out here all alone long—a doc will drop by in a day or two to help with the horses. I try to get any horses he needs to check rounded up before he gets here.”
“I can help with that. I learn fast.”
“No. You can’t. A wild horse will run right over you to get free.”
Tatum set his jaw and looked up at Cooper. “If you take me back, I’ll just run away again. I don’t want someone I love to die. I carry death with me, the neighbor said so.”
“I’m not dead. That alone should prove the neighbor’s wrong.”
The kid glared at him. “I’m not sure I even like you, mister. You’re probably safe.”
Cooper stared back, feeling like he’d been outdebated by a nine-year-old. “All right. We stay here today. One more day, that’s all. I need to check up on things. If I have to ride all the way back to headquarters, I don’t want to have to make another trip for supplies I could have picked up when I drop you off.”
Cooper grabbed his leather vest. “Take off your coat and put this underneath it. It’ll be warmer th
an that blanket. Stop calling me mister. Name’s Cooper, but to you it’s Coop. That’s what my brothers call me.”
The kid followed orders, then tied the blanket back around his neck. When Cooper raised an eyebrow, he said simply, “It’s not a blanket. It is a cape.”
“All right. Can you ride a horse?”
“No.”
“Then we ride double ’til you get the hang of it. When we get close to the herd, if we get close, I don’t want you saying a word, understand?”
“Understand.”
Cooper walked out into the cold, cloudy day with the kid two steps behind him. Tatum didn’t talk except to answer a question, but he watched everything. They walked the fifty feet to the small corral where Hector and one of Creed’s cutting horses were kept. Hector snorted at the newcomer, but the mare let the child pat her nose.
When Cooper finally swung into the saddle, he looked down at his unplanned guest. Tatum looked so small and frightened, but he took Cooper’s hand and climbed up behind him.
“Hold on, kid,” Cooper ordered as he began the short trek down to the water. He’d be lucky to see one horse today, but the best place to start the search would be near the stream. He’d pick up tracks there.
By noon, snow had started with flurries but quickly changed to lazy flakes drifting in the wind. Most of the tracks they’d found were from small animals. Coop taught him to recognize each. Tatum seemed to love the game. He had a hunger to learn.
As Cooper talked about reading the weather, he gave the kid a health bar and they ate as they sat on a rock and watched the river. “We’re turning back. Eat up and make sure you don’t drop the wrapper.”
The boy asked a few questions about fishing, then folded his arms exactly as Cooper did and studied the stream.
“You ready to ride?”
“Yes, Coop, I’m ready.”
Cooper lifted up the boy and decided to walk beside Hector. The kid needed to feel like he was really riding.
