Of course she didn’t. She’d been open with him.
He jerked his gaze past her lest she see the vast ocean of secrets he hid, and must always hide, if he and Lonnie hoped to have any chance of starting over.
“I need to get back to Lonnie,” he mumbled, and trotted away. His mind whirled with so many things—the beauty of the well-developed little farm and the endless land and the look on the face of that Caldwell cowboy, but mostly Cora’s pride in who she was and her fear at the approach of those riders.
It wasn’t right that this idyllic home should be marred by bullying cowboys. Cora had been kind to him from the start and he wanted to do something to show his gratitude.
He passed the partially constructed barn. Did they have neighbors or friends who were going to help finish it?
Seeing the building gave him an idea. A way he could repay the Bell’s kindness and watch the Caldwell cowboys. He’d offer to work on the barn.
He’d talk to Mr. Bell about it as soon as he’d checked on Lonnie.
* * *
“Cora, our prayers have been answered,” Pa said to her later that morning.
She straightened from hilling the potato plants and tried to think which prayer he meant.
The one for good weather? Well, seemed they had that to be grateful for.
Enough rain and sunshine to promise a bountiful crop? Again, it seemed that prayer had been generously answered. Thank You, God.
Or did he mean the one about protecting them from the mischief of the Caldwell cowboys?
Or perhaps the one he and Ma made no attempt to hide—to provide good, Christian husbands for the three girls and to give them many grandchildren while they were young enough to enjoy them. She grinned as she thought of that prayer. Then her amusement fled. They’d actually thanked God when Evan had ridden off.
“He wasn’t the man for you,” Pa had said.
Ma had hugged Cora. “You’ll see it’s true, once you get over being hurt.”
Cora knew they were right. It was her pride that was hurt more than her heart.
“Which prayer is that, Pa?”
“The one asking for someone to help finish the barn.”
She jerked to full attention and glanced around. “Someone came in answer to my advertisement? Guess Mr. Frank was wrong.” She wondered who was prepared to ignore the Caldwells’ displeasure, but saw no one and returned her attention to Pa.
“In answer to our prayers, not your notice.”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t see the notice.”
Cora shook her head as if doing so would make her understand what Pa was talking about. “Who?”
“Wyatt, of course.”
“Wyatt?” She’d been thinking about it all morning—weighing the pros and cons, mentally listing what she knew about him against what she didn’t know—and she still wasn’t ready to take a chance on him, lest he be hiding something that would bring danger into their lives. “But, Pa, what do we know about him?”
“What do we need to know except he’s big and strong and willing to help?”
“Indeed.” Except maybe where he was from and where he was going and what was in between the past and the future. Wyatt Williams made her want to know all his secrets.
“When’s he planning to start?”
“I said you’d tell him what to do.”
She was glad Pa didn’t want to climb up the ladder and show Wyatt what to do, but she glanced at the potatoes yet to hill, then over to the barn. She couldn’t be in two places at the same time. Rose and Lilly were helping Ma can peas and make rhubarb preserves. She sighed and took the hoe to the shed.
Grub stirred himself from the cool garden soil and ambled after her. Despite her frustration, she smiled as she looked at his grin. Something she’d not really noticed until Wyatt pointed it out.
Maybe working with the newcomer wouldn’t be so bad.
She patted Grub’s head. “Are you coming with me to find him?”
Grub wriggled so hard his hind legs got ahead of him and he almost tumbled into a tangle.
Cora laughed and patted his head again, then turned toward the river and the place where Wyatt and Lonnie camped.
“You looking for me?”
She cranked her head around, feeling about as awkward as Grub.
Wyatt leaned against the corner of the bare barn walls, so relaxed and at ease it made her want to suggest they forget work and go for a walk. But he wasn’t here to waste time and neither was she.
“Pa said you offered to help build the barn.”
“Yes, in exchange for feed for my horses and some supplies for Lonnie and me, and he agreed.”
“I’m glad to have some help.” She stopped a few feet from the building and studied it. “We got this far—” The external walls were up, holes in place for windows and doors. “But Pa fell and hurt his leg.” She shook her head. “He’s getting too old to be running up and down the ladder.” She had to admit, though, his movements were more of a crawl than a run.
She closed her eyes against the fear that claimed her every time she thought of Pa falling.
“Is he hurt bad?” Wyatt’s quiet voice made it possible to talk again.
“He says it’s nothing, but I see the pain in his face when he moves too fast or turns too suddenly. It could have been so much worse.” Her voice broke and she paused to take in two calming breaths. “I saw him fall and thought—” Her throat clogged with tears and she couldn’t go on.
Wyatt unwound from his casual position and closed the distance between them. “God protected him.”
She nodded, grateful for his kind words. “And gifted us with more time with him.” She shook the depressing thoughts from her mind. “Do you have experience with construction?”
“I’ve helped put up a few buildings. Guess I know enough to put the right board in the right place and nail it solid.” His face wreathed in a grin. “If not, I hope you’ll correct me.”
She chuckled. “All I know is what I’ve learned from Pa. But I was only twelve when he built these other buildings, and mostly I handed him nails.” Her amusement grew as she thought of those days. “He let me hammer in a few nails and praised my efforts, but I believe he pulled out the bent nails and hammered them in straight when I wasn’t looking.”
“Sounds like he’s a good father.”
“The best.” A movement caught her eye and she saw Lonnie hiding in the shadows. “Are you going to help, too?” she asked him.
Lonnie ducked his head, as if he didn’t plan to answer, then lifted it and faced her squarely. “I mean to do my share.”
“That’s all anyone can expect, isn’t it?”
Even though he remained in the shadows, she saw a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. The boy seemed hungry for approval. Too bad Pa wasn’t going to be supervising. He was the expert on giving encouragement and approval but she’d be second best if she could.
“The tools are in the shed.”
“I already got them,” Wyatt said, pointing toward the saws and hammers next to the stack of lumber.
“Then let’s get at it.” She headed for the lumber pile. “Stu Maples, who owns the lumber yard,