Lone Wolf's Lady. Judy Duarte

Katie held out a hand. “I promise.”

      Sarah Jane sighed, then stopped the swaying motion with little moccasin-clad feet and reached her small hand into Katie’s.

      As they approached Hannah and Tom, the big dog studied them intently. Too intently, Katie realized. She paused in midstep, determined to avoid a quick movement that might provoke the creature to pounce upon them with teeth bared. Katie waited, ready to jump in front of Sarah Jane as a shield, if need be.

      “He won’t hurt you.” Tom stooped to one knee and held out his hand to Sarah Jane. “Come here, sweetheart. I have a friend I want you to meet.”

      The child made her way to the man and dog, apparently not the least bit apprehensive.

      “Sarah Jane, this is Lobo. He’s part wolf, but don’t let that scare you. I’ve had him since he was a puppy, and he’s both loving and loyal.” Tom placed a hand upon the animal’s head. “Lobo, this is my friend. And now she’s your friend, too.”

      The child warmed to the dog immediately. Judging by the way Hannah smiled warmly as she watched the little girl and the wolf-dog, Katie seemed to be the only one with any apprehension whatsoever.

      “Sarah Jane,” Tom said, “I also want to introduce you to a very special lady. Her name is Hannah McCain, and she used to be a schoolteacher.”

      Hannah McCain?

      Was she his grandmother—or perhaps an aunt?

      With a rather large nose, a wide mouth and a gap-toothed smile, Hannah wasn’t much for looks. In fact, Katie doubted she’d been any more attractive in her youth, but her obvious pleasure at greeting Sarah Jane softened the harsh wrinkles etched on her face.

      Hannah slowly lowered herself to her knees, grimacing as she went down, but she seemed to shake off any discomfort as she cupped Sarah Jane’s face and smiled. “I have a cookie tin that never goes empty. And if you like storybooks, I have a shelf full of them. Reading is one of my favorite things to do.”

      Tom chuckled. “But watch out for the pianoforte in the parlor. Hannah thinks every child should learn to play as well as she does.”

      Books and a musical instrument? Hannah was certainly educated. But if Tom was calling her by her first name, then she wasn’t his mother. Of course, there didn’t appear to be a family resemblance, either.

      Curiosity flared, and Katie was determined to learn more about Hannah McCain and how she and Tom had become so close.

      The wolf-dog gave Sarah Jane’s face a lick, which triggered one of the smiles Katie had been longing to see.

      “Hannah,” Tom said, “forgive me for skipping formalities, but now that Sarah Jane is at ease, I’d like to introduce you to Katie O’Malley.”

      The older woman returned to her feet and waddled to Katie, her pudgy hand outstretched. “How do you do, dear? It’s nice to meet you.”

      Katie accepted the greeting. “I’m fine, thank you. Tom assured me that you wouldn’t mind having us stay with you.”

      “I’m delighted to have you.” Hannah turned to Tom. “Son, will you please put some water on to heat? These young ladies are going to need a bath. In the meantime, I’ll get supper underway.”

      “I hate to be a bother,” Katie said.

      “It’s no bother at all. Any friend of Tom’s is a friend of mine.”

      Tom had said as much, but Katie suspected the kindly woman would have taken in anyone who’d needed a warm meal and a soft bed.

      “We won’t be staying with you very long,” Katie told her. “Erin and I have plans to take Sarah Jane to Wyoming.”

      Tom’s smile waned, and his expression grew stern. “I thought we had that settled.”

      “We did get that settled. You’re going to Stillwater to check on a few details, and my plan to leave for Wyoming merely has been delayed until you get back.”

      Tom shot her a glance that suggested their truce might be short-lived, then he clucked his tongue and returned to the buckboard.

      * * *

      While the women went into the house, Tom unhitched the team and led them to the corral, where he could brush them down and give them some grain and water.

      All the while, he grumbled under his breath. He’d lowered his guard when it came to dealing with Katie O’Malley, and now that they’d reached Hannah’s house, she was back in rare form.

      Where was Trapper when he needed another man to even things out?

      He’d no more than wondered that question when Lobo’s ears perked up and he barked.

      A moment later, Tom heard it, too—the sound of a horse riding onto the property. As Lobo made a dash toward the road, Tom placed his right hand over the gun that rested in his holster.

      He hadn’t thought they’d been followed, but he couldn’t be sure. A sense of uneasiness had dogged him from Pleasant Valley, and he hadn’t been able to shake it.

      Still, he was glad to spot Trapper riding up on his Appaloosa. He released the team of horses into the corral, then met his old friend in the yard.

      As Trapper dismounted, he surveyed the buckboard and scrunched his face. “What’s that contraption?”

      Tom told him about the assault and why he’d brought Erin and Sarah Jane to Hannah.

      Trapper, who’d gotten a shave and a haircut after his return from Pleasant Valley, lifted his hat and mopped his brow. “Something just don’t seem right.”

      “That’s the conclusion I came to back in Pleasant Valley. We trailed Caroline from Casa de Los Angelitos in Mexico. And each time she’d settle down in a town and find a respectable job, she’d pack up and move a year or so later. But they stayed in Taylorsville nearly two years. So why didn’t Erin stay put after Caroline died? Why would she take Sarah Jane to live at the Gardener’s House? It doesn’t make sense.”