Linda Ford - Big Sky Cowboy

“One of the little pigs,” Cora said.

“But which one?”

“I couldn’t say. They all look the same to me.” Fat, pink or otherwise, and noisy. She darted a glance at Wyatt. He flashed a grin as if recalling the chase they’d had.

She almost laughed and choked the sound back so she wouldn’t be called upon to explain herself. She drew curious looks from both sisters. She patted her chest as if she had a tickle.

But Lilly had not lost sight of her concern over the pigs. “Was the pig all pink or did it have spots?”

Cora honestly could not say. She’d been entirely focused on getting the creature back into the pen before it had decided to root in the garden the way one had done last week. She’d managed to salvage some of the bean plants, but half a dozen were beyond help. After all her hard work planting and weeding.

“There was a black spot on its rump,” Wyatt said.

Cora stared at him. How had he noticed when she hadn’t?

“That was Mini,” Lilly said. “I hope you didn’t hurt him. He’s the littlest one, you know.”

“He looked fine to me,” Cora said.

“I’ll check on him.” Lilly dashed off with Rose after her.

Pa gave the horse the tonic, then he and Ma wandered away, leaving Cora alone with Wyatt.

She wasn’t sure what to say. Was she supposed to escort him down to the river? She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “My sister worries so much about those pigs.” She realized she might not appear to be sympathetic and she truly was. “Don’t get me wrong. I adore my sister. Both of them. They mean the world to me.”

He studied her a moment, his eyes filled with those dark secrets she’d noticed before. “I guess your family is your life.”

She’d never thought of it that way, but it was true. “Yes, they are.” She wanted to ask about his family, but before she could, he spoke again.

“Your pa said I could buy some oats for my horses. Could you tell me where I can find them?”

She went to the shed and pointed to the bins in the corner. “I’d better get back to my work.” She returned to the workroom off the kitchen to churn butter. Even with all the windows open, the room was far too warm. She needed to get a springhouse built so there’d be a cool place to store the butter and cheese during the summer. But she never had enough time, and Pa, bless his heart, tried to help, but he was getting far too old and sore for heavy work.

As she pumped the handle of the churn, her thoughts returned to the cowboy.

When she’d first seen him, she’d hoped he’d come in answer to the notice she’d nailed up in the store several days ago, offering a job to someone who would help her build a new barn. It seemed Mr. Frank, the store owner, was right. No one was going to risk displeasure from the Caldwells by helping the Bells.

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.