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Big Sky Cowboy
Big Sky Cowboy
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Big Sky Cowboy

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.

“I’m so sorry.” Cora’s voice thickened as if she held back tears. “I can’t imagine not having a ma.”

The river rumbled by, on its way to the ocean, where it would become part of something so much bigger it would disappear. Was that how death was? Or maybe it was only how it felt to those left behind, because he knew Ma had gone to something better where her pain and fear disappeared and she became whole and happy again.

“What about your pa?” Cora asked.

Her words vibrated through the air. Wyatt kept a firm look on Lonnie, silently begging him not to overreact.

Lonnie met his eyes, correctly read Wyatt’s message, and didn’t speak or move.

Relieved, Wyatt smiled and nodded reassurance. He didn’t break eye contact with Lonnie as he answered Cora.

“Our pa’s been dead several months now.” He’d survived the beating but from what Ma and Lonnie said, it seemed something inside him had been broken. He never regained his strength but slowly faded away to a shadow before he died, which was a mercy for Lonnie. It had freed the boy from the fear of more abuse. But from what Wyatt had put together about the year he’d been missing, he figured the boy was made to feel ashamed because he had a brother in prison, and he remained afraid even after Pa was dead and gone.

Cora touched the back of his hand, bringing his attention to her. “I’m so sorry. You’re both far too young to be orphans.” She pulled her hand back to her lap.

His skin where she’d touched him burned as if he’d had too much sun in that one spot. He’d not been touched in a compassionate way in so long he didn’t know how to respond.

“At least we have each other.” He managed to squeeze out the words. He gripped Lonnie’s shoulder, felt the tension and held on until the boy began to relax. “We will always have each other.”

* * *

Cora stared at her empty cup. She tipped it as if she could dredge up another drop of milk and that would somehow give her the words to express her sorrow at their state. No wonder Lonnie acted as though the world was ready to beat him up. Likely that was how it felt.

It was enough to make her want to offer Wyatt and Lonnie a home with the Bells, where they’d find the welcome and warmth she and her sisters had found.

Mrs. Bell had found five-year-old Cora and the twins two days after their real father had ridden away.

Cora remembered how she’d been ready to defend them. “My papa’s coming back,” she’d told Ma Bell. She’d looked down the trail as if he might suddenly appear. “He’ll be here any second now.” They were the same words she’d spoken to the twins throughout the lonely, fear-filled days and night. But the twins had gone readily into Ma Bell’s open arms and been comforted.

Cora had needed a little more persuasion.

“Your sisters are tired and dirty and hungry,” Ma had said. “Why not come with us? I’ll help you take care of them.”

It was the only argument she would have listened to. Their mother had died a few weeks previously, but not before she’d made Cora promise to take care of the twins.

Their father had never returned, though Cora had watched for him for several years. She’d given up looking for him, but she would never forget the promise she’d made to her mother, which meant she must be very careful about every decision she made. On the other hand, Ma and Pa Bell made the promise easy to keep.

The Bells had loved the girls from the first. She wished everyone could have people like them—loving and true. They’d never once given her any reason to doubt them or their word.

“I’m sorry you don’t have parents,” she said as she handed Wyatt the empty cup.

Wyatt nodded as he took it from her. “How much do I owe you for the oats and the food? They’re very much appreciated. Thank you, in case I forgot to say that earlier.”

Normally she would name the price and take the money, but his question gave her a way to see more of him, assess how honest he was. “You can settle up with Pa later.”

“I’ll do that.”

She rolled up the sack she’d brought the supplies in and rose. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Wyatt rose, too, and smiled at her. “Much obliged.”

She studied him. He had a nice smile, but it didn’t erase the dark shadows that lingered in his eyes. It was those shadows, and his reluctance to say where he and Lonnie had come from and where they were going, that made her wary of him. “Bye for now.”

He nodded. “Goodbye.”

She glanced past him to Lonnie. “Bye, Lonnie.”

The boy’s head jerked up, his lips parted, his eyes wide. “Bye.” The word squeaked from him.

Was he afraid of her? But why?

His eyes went to Wyatt, who stood with his back to his brother.

Was Lonnie afraid of his brother? That gave her cause for concern. One thing was certain. There was something not quite right with this pair, and until she knew it wasn’t anything that threatened anyone in her family—including herself—she would not be encouraging any contact. She silently prayed as she returned to the farm. God, make the truth known, clear and plain. Protect my family. May we serve You in sincerity and truth.

Rose and Lilly watched for her return. “Did you find out anything?” they asked in unison.

“Their parents are dead.” Her voice trembled. “I can’t help feeling sorry for anyone whose parents are dead.”

The girls nodded.

Cora said, “Makes us all the more grateful for being adopted by the Bells.”

“We need to tell them again,” Rose said.

The girls agreed they would be more faithful at telling their parents how much they appreciated their love.

Cora knew the twins wondered about their birth parents, but she was the only one with any recollection of them. Not that it mattered. They were now the Bell sisters.

“Did you find out where they’re going?” Rose asked.

“How did the mares look?” Lilly added.

Cora chuckled. “I could tell which one asked each question without seeing either of you. Lilly’s first concern is the animals. Rose’s is to have all the questions answered.”

The girls faced her as a pair. “Well?”

She grinned and teased them. “Well, what?”

“The mares?” Lilly prodded.

“They looked all right to me, but I honestly didn’t look very closely at them. Wyatt and his brother built a rope corral that looked fine.”

Lilly sighed long. “The mare he had here was foot weary and about ready to foal. I’m wondering how the others are.”

Cora gave a little shrug. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say.”

“Did they say where they were going? Or where they were from?” Rose demanded.

“No more than they told Pa.”

“Hmm.” Rose’s brows furrowed. “Why do you suppose they don’t say?”

Lilly shrugged. “Could be any number of reasons. No need to imagine some deep, dark secret.”

Rose huffed. “I’m not imagining anything. I just don’t like unanswered questions. Or unfinished business. Seems to me if a person has nothing to hide they can answer civil questions.”

Lilly gave her twin a fierce look. “Or maybe they just want to be left to themselves.”

“Girls,” Cora soothed before the pair got really involved in their differing opinions. “I’ve decided we should give the two of them a wide berth until we’re certain they pose no risk.”

“Risk to who?” Rose demanded.

“Their poor animals.” Lilly shook her head.

“A risk to us,” Cora corrected. “To you two. To Ma and Pa. They seem harmless enough, but I don’t intend to believe first impressions. Now let’s get the chores done and help Ma with supper.”

She brought in the two milk cows and milked them while Lilly fed the pigs and chickens. Rose gathered the eggs and went to help Ma.

That evening they kept busy with shelling the peas they’d picked earlier. It gave them plenty of time to talk and even more time to think.

Even without the conversation circling back to the two newcomers and their horses, Cora’s thoughts went unbidden to Wyatt sitting down by the river in his crude little camp. Hungry, orphaned and caring for a younger brother who seemed troubled, to say the least.

Or was she being like Rose and, in her search for answers, making up things that had no basis in fact?

One thing was certain. She would not let down her guard until she had some assurance that it was safe to do so.

* * *

Wyatt didn’t come to pay Pa that evening. Perhaps he’d taken the feed and victuals and moved on. In the morning, Cora slipped close enough to see that they were still there. Lonnie was brushing Fanny until her coat shone. Where was Wyatt? She looked around. Then she spotted him, headed up the hill toward the house.

She bolted to her feet and scampered back before he got there. Slightly breathless, she hurried to meet him.

“Good morning. I came to pay your pa,” he said, snatching his hat from his head. His face was slightly reddened, as if he’d scrubbed it hard in cold water. He was freshly shaven. She hadn’t noticed his well-shaped chin yesterday. His damp hair looked black.

“He’s in his work shed. I’ll take you to him.” She led the way to the weather-stained building where Pa spent many happy hours.

“Pa,” she called. “Mr. Williams has come to pay for the oats and the food I took him last night.”

Pa’s head poked around a cupboard. “Can’t you take care of it?”

“Not this time, Pa.”

He considered her a moment, seemed to understand she had her reasons and emerged. “So what did you take him?”

She told him. “I’ll leave you to it.” She backed away and ducked around the corner of the building to listen. Perhaps she’d see his true character in how he treated Pa. To many, her pa appeared a crippled old man. But he had his wits about him and saw far more than most realized.

Pa named a sum and coins rattled as Wyatt paid the amount.

But Wyatt didn’t move away.

“What do you think of this?” Pa asked and Cora knew he wanted Wyatt to look at his latest invention.

“Interesting. What is it?” Wyatt sounded sincere.

“I’m trying to figure out how to hoe four rows at once.”

Cora smiled. Pa was always experimenting and inventing. Some things turned out well, others not so well, but like Pa said, you had to try and fail before you could succeed.

“I’m not sure I’ve got the angle of the hoes just right. Could you hold it so I can check?”

Wyatt’s boots clumped on the wooden floor as he moved to help Pa. “It’s a mite heavy,” Wyatt said.

“Do you think it’s too heavy for the girls? Bear in mind they’re good strong girls.”

Wyatt grunted a time or two. “Seems as if it would be a big load, especially if they’re supposed to pull it through the soil.”

“You could be right. Maybe if I shape the hoes to a point?”

“Might work.”

A thump, rattle and several grunts came from the shed.

Cora edged around the corner so she could see what they were doing.

They’d turned the hoe over on its back and Wyatt squatted next to Pa. “Maybe like this?” He indicated with his finger.

“That might do it.”

“You maybe should get some metal ones. They’d cut through the soil better.”

Pa gave Wyatt an approving smile. “Yup. Figured to do that once I get the working model figured out.” He rubbed his crippled leg. “Sure can’t move about the way I used to.”

Cora saw Pa’s considering look. She didn’t want him to get it in his head that he’d return to work on the barn. He was getting too old and had already had one fall. No, she’d do it by herself before she’d let that happen. She sprang forward.

“Pa—oh, hi, Wyatt. Did you two sort out the payment?”

“Sure did.”

Pa turned back to his hoe. “I’m going to try that.”

Wyatt patted Pa’s back. “Don’t hesitate to ask if you need help with it. Or anything.”

“Maybe you’d like a tour of the place.” Now, why had she offered that? She didn’t have time for a social visit. Not with beans to pick and potatoes to hill and hay to cut and stack. She could be three people, and the twins could be doubled, and the work would never end. Which, she supposed, about described the lot of most farmers. But having offered, she had little choice but to show the stranger around and learn more about him.

One way or another.

Chapter Three

Wyatt would enjoy seeing more of this tidy little farm. He didn’t mind the company, either. The young woman’s chatter was a pleasant change from Lonnie’s dour complaints about having to stay in one place. No amount of explaining about the necessity of stopping for Fanny’s sake satisfied him. Wyatt had been grateful to leave the boy cleaning up the campsite after breakfast.

He and Cora fell in, side by side. The lop-eared dog trotted alongside them. He tripped over himself and skidded into the ground.

Wyatt chuckled. “What kind of dog do you call that?”

“He doesn’t mind what we call him, so long as we don’t call him late for supper.”

Wyatt laughed. She sure did have a way of easing his mind.

As they walked beside the garden, Cora explained that they grew enough to supply their own needs and sell to others. But she stopped when they reached an overgrown patch of wild plants.

“We don’t ever touch that,” Cora said. “It’s Ma’s healing plants. She is the only one who can tell which ones are good and which are weeds. To me, they all look like weeds. She lets them grow wild and untamed. I’ve suggested she should tidy them to rows so we can clean up the patch.” Cora sighed. “By her reaction, you’d think I’d told her I planned to plow it under. So it stays that way.”