Linda Ford - The Cowboy Tutor

They reached the door, so conversation came to a halt. Madge handed over the clean items and received a few coins. She tucked the money into her deep pocket to add to the coffee can when she got home. The payment was due next week, and she knew without counting she would never make it.

“I need something special to happen,” she muttered, then wondered if she’d lost her mind to utter the words aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.” She eased the automobile down the street to her next delivery. Again, Justin insisted on carrying the basket to the door. Thankfully, the distance was short, making conversation impossible.

She drove three blocks and picked up another batch of laundry.

“Seems to me you’re working hard, finding ways to cope. What is it you’re worried about?”

She snorted. “We’re in a depression. No jobs. No money. Drought. Poor prices. What isn’t there to worry about?”

“I hear ya. But not all those things touch each of us personally. For instance, you have work. You have a source of food and your house.”

“For now,” she muttered, immediately wanting to smack herself for revealing more than she intended. This wasn’t his problem. She didn’t even trust him, for goodness’ sake. Why would she want to share her problems with him?

“Your house is still mortgaged?”

She grunted. Let him take it for agreement or not. Whatever he wanted. She didn’t intend to discuss this with him.

“Are you in danger of losing it?” His quiet words flushed through her, leaving a trickle of anger and determination.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” She took the corner too fast and skidded. Let him think about that instead of talking about losing the house. She couldn’t contemplate the possibility. Her anger fled as quickly as it came. “I’m not worried. God has promised to take care of us. I simply have to believe He will.” Though it would require divine intervention within the next few days.

“There again, you sound like my mother.”

She glanced at him and gave a tight smile that did not budge the determination tightening the skin around her eyes. “She must be a good woman.”

He grinned. “I think so.” His gaze lingered. Did he think the same of her?

And what difference did it make if he did?

She tried to think of all the reasons it didn’t matter, but for a moment, for the space of a heartbeat—for the time it took to blink away from his gaze—she let herself imagine he had complimented her, and she allowed herself to enjoy the thought.

She headed out of town toward the farm. Her journey took her past the Mayerses’ place. Young Kenny stood at the end of the garden, a few feet from the edge of the road. She squinted at him. “What’s he doing?”

“Best I can guess is he’s taking the chickens for a walk.”

She sputtered in surprise. “Never heard of walking chickens.” But indeed the boy had half a dozen hens tethered by a foot and marched them up and down the end of the garden.

Madge crawled to a halt and leaned out her window. “Kenny, what are you doing?”

“Ma says the chickens have to eat the grasshoppers before they get to the plants.” He sounded as mournful as the distant train whistle. “Says I have to keep them here until dark.”

“Sounds like a chore.”

“It’s boring. Stupid chickens wouldn’t stay here, so I roped ’em. Now they got nothing to do but chase hoppers.” One chicken tore after a hopper to Kenny’s right. Two others squawked at the disturbance and flapped in the opposite direction. Kenny had his hands full keeping everything sorted out.

“Well, have fun,” Madge called as she drove away. She didn’t dare look at Justin until they were well out of Kenny’s hearing, then she saw him struggling as much as she was to contain amusement.

They started to laugh. Madge laughed until her stomach felt emptied and her heart refreshed. She gasped for air and dried her eyes. “Never seen that before.”

Justin shook his head. “Thought I’d seen every kind of critter that could be led. ’Course, the chickens weren’t exactly cooperating, were they? I think poor Kenny is going to end up trussed by his feathered herd.”

They burst into fresh gales of laugher as she turned into the yard. The laughter died as they approached the house. She slid a worried look at him. Would he think her silly? But his eyes brimmed with amusement and something as warm as fresh milk, as sweet as clover honey and as forbidden as taking candy from a baby. Yet she couldn’t deny the way his glance sought and found a place deep inside where it seemed to fit perfectly.

She tore her gaze away and delivered a firm lecture to herself. Everything about this man was wrong, wrong, wrong. For starters, she knew he was hiding something. Plus, he had been handpicked as a suitable mate for Louisa. What kind of woman would entertain thoughts for a man intended for her sister?

She bolted from the car and reached for the laundry baskets, now full of tumbled, smelly items. But Justin beat her and held them in his arms.

“Where do you want me to put them?”

She nodded toward the coal shed she used as a laundry room. “In there would be fine.” She hesitated as he disappeared into the dark interior, then slowly followed, wondering if she didn’t step into danger as she crossed the threshold. She grabbed the pull chain, and a bare bulb lit the interior. “On the bench.”

He deposited the baskets and looked about, sneezing at the smell of coal dust. “Pretty dingy in here.”

“That’s why I move everything outdoors unless it’s too dusty. Or rainy.”

“Rain would be a welcome reason.”

“Indeed.” The shed was small, and she looked everywhere but at Justin. His closeness pressed at her senses, making her skin warm, filling her lungs with tightness, causing her eyes to sting with embarrassment and pleasure at their recent amusement.

“I enjoyed our little outing.”

The softness in his voice pulled her gaze inexorably toward him. His eyes were dark, bottomless, echoing the blackness in the corners of the room. Something about his expression caught at her, held her, joined them in a common thought.

“Especially meeting Kenny and his herd.”

A grin started in one corner of her mouth and worked its way across her face. “If it keeps the grasshoppers out of the garden, he will surely be in high demand all over the county.”

Justin chuckled. “The price of chickens will skyrocket.”

“No one will be able to afford to eat a hen.”

“Might put an end to this financial crisis.”

They both laughed heartily at their foolishness, but something happened in that shared moment, something Madge would not admit. She could not, would not feel a union of souls beyond anything she had before experienced.

She jerked away. “Thanks for your help and have a good night.”

He followed her outside and paused, as if waiting for her to turn and face him. She would not.

“Good night to you, too.” He limped toward his quarters.

She headed for the house. Just before she stepped inside, she turned. He paused at his own doorway and glanced back. Her heart jerked in response. He lifted one hand in a little wave. She did the same, struggling to keep her breathing normal, and then ducked inside and quietly closed the door.

“Did you have a good time?” Louisa sat in her lounge chair. Her voice was soft but her eyes hard.

Madge knew her sister didn’t care for Justin accompanying her. Not that she had invited him. Or welcomed him. Or so she tried to convince herself. “I delivered laundry and picked up more. Not exactly a fun occupation.”

“What did you talk about?”

She couldn’t remember anything except their shared laughter and didn’t want to tell Louisa about that. “Huh? Pardon? Who talked about what?”