“Have you fed Miss Ava lately?” The baby’s distress was getting to her, and Tomasina temporarily abandoned her argument. “Maybe she’s hungry.”
“She has been fed. She has been burped. She has been changed. There is absolutely no reason for this behavior.”
Tomasina stood and peered at the infant’s scrunched-up face. “Did you hear that, li’l missy? Daddy Canfield doesn’t think you’re being reasonable.” Tomasina sighed and reached for the bundle. “Here, let me have her. You’re doing it all wrong.”
Will hesitated for several long seconds before handing over Ava.
He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and heaved a breath. “I don’t know how such a tiny creature can make such a racket.”
“Maybe she misses her mama.” Tomasina tucked the baby snugly against her body. “I bet your mama misses you, too, Ava.”
Tomasina had only meant to quiet Ava, but a curious warmth enveloped her. Pacing back and forth, something unfurled inside her; a gentle awakening. She’d been around lots of baby animals in her life, and they were all plenty cute. Ava was different. Once she quit her squalling and Tomasina got a good look at her, she marveled at the change. As those beautiful eyes blinked, long, dark lashes swept over plump cheeks. Her chubby hands fisted restlessly against the blanket. Tomasina had never seen such tiny, perfectly shaped fingernails. Ava even smelled good. The infant’s sweet scent teased her senses.
Nuzzling her forehead, Tomasina whispered comforting words. The tune of an old camp song tugged at her memory. Unheeding of Will’s curious stare, she sang softly.
“O bury me not on the lone prairie
Where coyotes howl and the wind blows free
In a narrow grave just six by three—
O bury me not on the lone prairie
It matters not, I’ve been told,
Where the body lies when the heart grows cold
Yet grant, o grant, this wish to me
O bury me not on the lone prairie.
I’ve always wished to be laid when I died
In a little churchyard on the green hillside
By my father’s grave, there let me be,
O bury me not on the lone prairie.”
With each verse, the infant gradually calmed. Ava’s eyes drifted shut, and her breathing grew deep and even.
Will sighed. “I don’t know how you did it, but I thank you all the same.”
“Babies are no different than any of God’s creatures. Everyone wants to know that someone loves them.” Caring for Ava had eased the tension between them a notch. “What will you do if you can’t find her mama?”
His face softened. She sensed that something had shifted in their relationship. They were shared victors of a sort—soothing the savage beast. The baby had given them something in common. Tomasina snorted softly. The baby was about all they were likely to find in common. She couldn’t imagine two more opposite people.
“I always have a plan,” Will said a touch wearily. “First I’ll give her mama the chance to change her mind.”
A grudging respect for the man sifted through Tomasina’s annoyance. After holding the tiny new life, she sympathized with his dilemma. “Sometimes people make decisions they regret later.”
“You’re the second person who’s told me that in the last week.”
“I guess most folks have a regret or two. You better hire some good help.” The baby squirmed, and Tomasina lowered her voice to a whisper. She’d already made herself a new personal rule to never wake a sleeping baby. “You have your hands full with this one. She’s got a mind of her own.”
“I trust your judgment on difficult females.”
Tomasina relinquished the infant and stuck her hands in her back pockets. There was no need to get all soft and squishy over one little baby girl. “I know you’re looking out for Cowboy Creek, but I’m looking out for my crew. They’re gonna let loose one way or the other.”
“The answer is still no.” Will took the seat she’d vacated earlier. “I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing each other again. Best of luck, Miss Stone.”
“Oh, I don’t know...” Tomasina replaced her hat and tightened the strings beneath her chin. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other real soon.”
He’d thought he’d won, but she wasn’t giving up the fight just yet.
* * *
Will’s cane kicked up dust with each thudding stride.
Texas Tom had defied his orders.
His anger growing with each step, he followed the festive crowds swarming toward the stockyards. Chatter and laughter swirled around him, and a sense of excitement filled the air. Enterprising merchants had set up booths for food and drink along Eden Street, and knots of people clustered around the offerings. The scent of fresh-roasted nuts teased his nose. Carriages and wagons clogged the way, but no one seemed to mind the wait. The unofficial town band played near the temporary fairgrounds, and the chords of a toe-tapping melody drifted above the chatter.
Will caught sight of his friend Daniel Gardner and picked up his pace.
Daniel loped over then slapped him on the back. “Looks like the whole town turned out for Texas Tom’s Rodeo Show. I hope she’s a crowd pleaser.”
“Then you know Texas Tom is a girl?”
Daniel lifted his hat and raked one hand through his chestnut hair. “Doesn’t matter to me as long as she puts on a good show.”
“I can’t believe you encouraged this risky display.” Will didn’t bother hiding his annoyance. “The last time someone staged a show, two men suffered broken limbs. A fight broke out in the saloon, and someone knocked over a kerosene lamp. Nearly burned down half the town. Mr. Frye dug two bullets out of the livery.”
“You’re not the captain anymore.” Daniel’s jaw tightened. “You’re not in charge.”
“We agreed on the rules for the town.”
“We did. Except the stockyards aren’t part of the town proper.”
Not only had Texas Tom gone around Will’s back, she’d enlisted the support of his closest friend.
The betrayal smarted. “It’s your choice.”
“Look, if I’d known you were dead set against the show, I’d have acted differently. It’s too late now.” Daniel shrugged. “I’ll help you keep an eye out for trouble. Sheriff Davis is here, as well.”
“What about Leah?”
“She stayed home. She’s resting.”
“Probably for the best.” Will’s anger waned. They’d been through too much to let something like this alter their friendship. “I need you on lookout.”
“You’ve had one of your hunches, haven’t you?”
“Something like that.” During his years in the war, Will had learned to trust his instincts. His men had learned to do the same. “Keep a sharp eye out.”
“I own the stockyards, remember? I’m not letting anything happen.” They’d nearly reached their destination, and Daniel slowed his pace. “I’m sorry about the rodeo. I didn’t think you’d care as long as we kept it outside town. How long are you going to be sore?”
“I’m not sore.”
His friend visibly relaxed. “Hey, Leah told me about the