Linda Ford - Montana Cowboy Family

His experience was enough to make him look at Miss Young with a certain guardedness. But never mind Miss Young. Logan had to find his lunch before the thief ate it all. He eased around the schoolhouse, eyes sweeping the area for clues. A flash of material behind the stack of lumber at the back of the lot caught his attention. He eased forward. What kind of robber stopped so close to the scene of his crime?

He edged around the corner of the lumber pile, his muscles tensed to spring forward, but at the sight of a little boy opening up Logan’s lunch sack, he ground to a halt, his anger completely gone. This was one of Miss Young’s students. What was the child doing over here when he should be in the classroom with the other children?

The boy looked up, saw that he was discovered and stuffed the sack behind his back. He considered Logan with wide brown eyes, doing his best to look innocent.

Logan took a moment studying the boy. He had on overalls so thin you could spit through them. There was a button missing on his shirt. His dark blond hair was in sore need of a cut. Logan didn’t recognize the child. There must be a new family in the area he hadn’t heard of.

“I think you have my lunch,” he said in a slow, lazy drawl.

The boy’s thin shoulders came forward. He twisted his hands palms upward as if to prove he had nothing.

Was there anything sadder than a hungry boy? His own hunger gnawed at his stomach. He lowered himself to the ground, his back to the lumber. The boy drew his legs closer to his body and watched Logan.

Logan saw how tense the boy was. “What’s your name?”

“Sammy.”

“Got a last name?”

“Sammy Weiss.”

“Howdy. I’m Logan Marshall.” He stretched his legs out. “Guess you’re as hungry as me. Think we could share the lunch?”

Sammy waited, and when he realized Logan wasn’t giving up, he pulled the sack from behind him and handed it to Logan, his eyes never leaving the promise of food.

Logan carefully divided the lunch into two portions. The boy’s eyes followed every move of Logan’s fingers. He passed one half of the food to Sammy.

“I like to thank God for my food before I eat.”

Sammy bowed his head, loudly swallowing saliva.

“Thanks for food and sunshine and fresh air and good work. Amen.”

Before Logan could lift his sandwich to his mouth, young Sammy had taken a large bite. He ate like a boy who wondered where he’d find his next meal. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” Logan knew everyone within a forty-mile radius.

Sammy nodded. He pushed his mouthful of food to one cheek. “Been here more’n a week.”

“Where’d you come from afore that?”

“Wolf Hollow.”

That explained his grubby clothes and hunger. The rough mining town to the west had its share of men and women whose dreams of making it rich had been shattered by reality.

“Where are you living?”

Sammy jerked his thumb over his shoulder as if that provided all the information needed.

They ate in silence, Sammy’s full attention on his food while Logan contemplated what to do about the boy.

Sammy finished before Logan, so Logan stuffed what was left back in the sack to eat later and pushed to his feet. “I expect the teacher will have noticed your absence by now.”

They could hear someone approaching. A woman called, “Sammy? Where are you?” The schoolmarm must have realized she was missing one of her students.

Sammy jerked to his feet and flung about, seeking escape.

Logan caught him by the collar, a little disconcerted when the boy shrank back, his eyes blinking at a galloping rate. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to face up to your sins like a man.”

Sammy straightened but his jaw quivered.

Miss Young held up her skirts as she ran around the school building in search of Sammy. She wore a dark gray skirt as plain as unbuttered bread and a white shirtwaist fitted so tightly around her neck it must surely choke her.

At the sight of Sammy in Logan’s grasp, she dropped her skirt and ran her hands over her head to make sure every hair was in place. Logan was pretty sure not one single strand would dare escape.

She spared Logan the briefest of glances and turned her attention to Sammy. “I was concerned about you.”

“I’s okay.”

“Except you’re supposed to be at school with the others.”

“I don’t like school.” Sammy sighed mightily. “But I promised my ma I would go.”

She held a hand out to him. “Then let’s return.”

Sammy ducked away from her offered hand and sauntered across the yard in the general direction of the store.

Miss Young paused to speak to Logan. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She was too shy to even meet his gaze.

“I know you have students to look after at the moment, but when classes are over, you and I need to talk about this.” Like he’d said to Sammy, the boy must take responsibility for his actions. If left unchecked, stealing lunches might escalate into stealing bigger things. Things that would get him jailed or hanged. Best to nip the tendency in the bud.

Miss Young’s gaze jolted to his at those words. “I’ll deal with the boy in school.”

“He stole from me. That makes it my business.”

Her demanding look had likely been perfected with her wayward students, but he’d lived with Pa and Grandfather long enough to endure the most challenging of looks without flinching. Not to mention two older brothers, Dawson and Conner. They were only four and two years older respectively, but not above bossing Logan around. Even his little sister, Annie, who at nineteen ran the house ever since Ma died four years ago, felt she had the right to expect Logan to do as she asked.

Nope. No mousy little schoolmarm had a hope of making him quake in his shoes. He touched the brim of his hat. “Until school is out,” he said, and sauntered away.

* * *

Sadie would have welcomed more time crossing the street and rejoining the classroom. Something about Logan Marshall left her heart fluttering and her breathing so rapid she might have run around the block three times. But she’d left one of the older girls in charge long enough. She’d have to deal with her turmoil of emotions later. She rang the bell and called the children in from their play behind the store. The area was little more than the back alley, but until they moved into the schoolhouse, it sufficed. Lunch time had precipitated Sammy running away. For the fourth day in a row he had forgotten his lunch. She began to think no one prepared one for him. The children made the same conclusion and teased Sammy. Before she could intervene, the boy had gone outside saying he wasn’t hungry. When she’d checked on him, he was gone. The same thing had happened yesterday but, before she could search for him, he had returned, swaggering a little, looking slightly smug. Her warning bells had sounded. This little boy of seven brought out all the protective instincts she possessed, but she wasn’t lulled into believing he wasn’t capable of mischief.

And she was right. He’d stolen from Logan Marshall! What had he taken? And why had he stolen from a Marshall? They ruled the town with unwavering firmness. Sammy’s family had recently moved to Bella Creek, so Sammy might not know that yet. She spared a tight smile, wondering if knowing would make any difference to the boy. He had a certain brashness to him that made her think he often did things he shouldn’t.

The children filed in. She read to them. She assigned lessons and checked answers. She replied when spoken to though, from the questioning looks on several faces, she guessed they had asked their questions more than once. Finally the afternoon classes ended and she dismissed the children with a wave and a wooden smile. Only then did she sink to her chair, plant her elbows on the desktop and bury her face in her hands. She made certain to have a book open in front of her, should anyone step in unannounced. Hopefully, they would think she pored over lesson preparation.