Big Sky Cowboy. Linda Ford
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“Sounds like he’s a good father.”
“The best.” A movement caught her eye and she saw Lonnie hiding in the shadows. “Are you going to help, too?” she asked him.
Lonnie ducked his head, as if he didn’t plan to answer, then lifted it and faced her squarely. “I mean to do my share.”
“That’s all anyone can expect, isn’t it?”
Even though he remained in the shadows, she saw a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. The boy seemed hungry for approval. Too bad Pa wasn’t going to be supervising. He was the expert on giving encouragement and approval but she’d be second best if she could.
“The tools are in the shed.”
“I already got them,” Wyatt said, pointing toward the saws and hammers next to the stack of lumber.
“Then let’s get at it.” She headed for the lumber pile. “Stu Maples, who owns the lumber yard, said we’d never be able to build the barn on our own—a bunch of women and a man getting up in years.” She chuckled. “But he didn’t mind selling us the lumber.”
Wyatt grabbed a board, laid it across the sawhorses, measured and cut it. “Lonnie, help me put it in place.”
Lonnie raced forward and grabbed an end.
Cora followed them. As soon as the board was in place, she started nailing.
Wyatt left her and Lonnie to do that while he cut another piece. They soon worked in a smooth rhythm.
“How long have you been here?” Wyatt asked.
“Eight years. Before that we lived in town. But Pa wanted us to be able to grow and produce more so we’d be self-sufficient.”
“Seems you got a little bit of everything.”
“Chickens, sheep, pigs, milk cows, the garden. I guess we have most everything. We make cheese, spin the wool and can the produce.” She knew her voice rang with pride.
Wyatt chuckled. “And you’re very proud of all your family has achieved.”
She straightened and grinned at him. “Guess I make it pretty obvious.”
Wyatt handed her the next board. “I’d say you have good reason to feel that way.”
“It’s my family I’m most proud of. We’re strong and...survivors, I guess you’d say.”
“Huh?” He paused from sawing a board to look at her. “Survivors? Oh, I suppose you mean the Caldwells.”
“That and other things.” Their gazes connected across the distance as he seemed to contemplate asking her for further explanation.
She didn’t mind providing the answer, whether or not he asked the question. “Not all fathers are like my pa.”
Lonnie dropped a board and jerked back, a look of such abject fear on his face that she automatically reached for him. She meant to comfort him, but he threw up his arms as if he expected her to—
Hit him?
She looked to Wyatt for explanation.
He focused on Lonnie. “It’s okay, Lon. No harm done. Just pick up your end again.”
Lonnie shuddered. His wide dark eyes slowly returned to normal and he bent to retrieve the board.
Cora continued to stare at him, then shifted her study to Wyatt. There was something seriously wrong with Lonnie, and if Wyatt planned to stay on the place, she needed an explanation.
Wyatt met her look and shook his head.
She nodded. Now was not the time or the place, but she would be sure to find an opportunity very soon. If whatever caused Lonnie’s fear threatened the safety and security of her family in any way, she would insist they move on.
But would he tell her the truth?
Her experience with men didn’t give her much confidence that he would.
Cora returned to the task of building the barn for another half hour, then straightened. “I’m thirsty. Let’s get a drink.”
Wyatt dropped everything and followed her toward the pump. Even Lonnie didn’t hesitate.
She pumped and Wyatt filled the dipper.
“Thanks. I’m about parched.” He drank three full dippers, then took off his hat and poured some over his head. He shook the water from his face and planted his hat back on his wet head. “That’s better. Thanks.”
Her eyes followed the trails streaking from his wavy, dark brown hair down his sun-bronzed face and dripping off his chiseled chin. Chiseled chin! She snorted. What kind of observation was that? Right up there with her mental description of his chocolate-colored eyes with flashes of evening shadows in them and a certain sadness that she’d noticed before and put down to something in his past that he hid.
She drank from the dipper and considered pouring the rest of the water over her head. It might cool her face, but it would do nothing to cool her thoughts.
She splashed cold water on her face and handed the dipper to Lonnie, who drank his fill. Then, with a grin teasing his lips, he lifted his hat and poured water over his head.
Wyatt stared at him.
Cora laughed, which brought two pairs of eyes toward her. She couldn’t tell which of the two was more surprised, but Wyatt recovered first and tipped his head back and laughed. Then, his eyes sparkling, he squeezed Lonnie’s shoulder.
Cora could see the boy start to shrug away and then stop himself, and the pleasure in Wyatt’s eyes went so deep that it made her eyes sting.
She could hardly wait to hear Wyatt’s explanation for his brother’s odd behavior.
Rose trotted toward the garden, likely to get potatoes for supper.
Lilly sang as she went to feed the pigs.
“I need to do chores,” Cora said.
Wyatt nodded. “We’ll work a bit longer.” He and Lonnie returned to the barn while Cora made her way to the pasture to get the cows. First, she did her usual check on the pasture fence. It had a habit of mysteriously breaking down and letting the cows wander away. Not that there was any mystery about the cause of the frequent breaks. The cowboys from the Caldwell ranch broke the wires and generally made life as miserable as possible for the Bells.
She found no breaks in the fence. The cowboys must be too busy to harass them at the moment. The sun headed toward the mountaintops, signaling the end of the afternoon as she finished inspecting the fence and took Bossy and Maude home, lowing for feed and milking.
She gave them each a few oats, grabbed the milk buckets and milked the cows. As she rose to turn the cows into the pen, she almost ran into Wyatt as he rounded the corner at the same time.
He clamped his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “Whoa there, girl.”
His warm and firm hands held her like an anchor. His fingers pressed into her shoulders, easing an ache she’d developed while hoeing in the garden and then hammering nails. A scent of warm soil, hard work and strength filled her nostrils and tugged at something deep inside. She fought to right herself—not physically but mentally. When had she ever reacted so strongly to a simple touch? Or the nearness of a man? She certainly hadn’t had these unexpected feelings around Evan.
Evan! Remembering him made her pull back.
Wyatt’s hands dropped to his sides.
She sucked in air to keep from swaying. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Wasn’t paying attention. Truth is, I don’t usually see anyone