Ma nodded to Wyatt, then turned her attention to the horse. “Poor thing looks exhausted. This tonic ought to make her feel better.”
Lilly drifted by, saw the crowd and shifted direction. “What’s everyone doing here?”
Rose and Lilly were twins, although as different as the flowers they’d been named for.
Lilly cradled one of last year’s kittens.
Cora moved to Lilly’s side as she introduced Wyatt yet again. “That’s our family.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” he said. “I don’t plan to be a nuisance. We’ll be down by the river until Fanny here and her new baby are ready to move.”
Another wanderer. Here today, maybe tomorrow or even the next day, then gone as fast as he could pull his boots on...or, in this case, as soon as he deemed his horse fit to move on.
Cora’d had her fill of wandering men. First her birth father had abandoned her and the twins when she was five and the twins just three. The day was burned into her memory.
Papa in a wagon, riding away with a promise to return. “Wait for me. I’ll be back,” he’d said. But he’d never returned and she’d never known why.
And then Evan. Cora wondered how she could have let herself care for him in the first place. Once bitten, twice shy. She’d not be so willing to trust a man again.
“You’re fortunate you ended up here,” Rose said. “Our ma is known for her healing powders and ointments.”
“I’m grateful, though it was the sign on your gate that caught my attention. Then I saw your sister chasing after a pig and had to ride closer.”
Cora groaned. Now Lilly would get all concerned.
“What pig?” Lilly looked about ready to cry. How many times had Cora told her sister that, at eighteen, tears shouldn’t be so close to the surface?
“One of the little pigs,” Cora said.
“But which one?”
“I couldn’t say. They all look the same to me.” Fat, pink or otherwise, and noisy. She darted a glance at Wyatt. He flashed a grin as if recalling the chase they’d had.
She almost laughed and choked the sound back so she wouldn’t be called upon to explain herself. She drew curious looks from both sisters. She patted her chest as if she had a tickle.
But Lilly had not lost sight of her concern over the pigs. “Was the pig all pink or did it have spots?”
Cora honestly could not say. She’d been entirely focused on getting the creature back into the pen before it had decided to root in the garden the way one had done last week. She’d managed to salvage some of the bean plants, but half a dozen were beyond help. After all her hard work planting and weeding.
“There was a black spot on its rump,” Wyatt said.
Cora stared at him. How had he noticed when she hadn’t?
“That was Mini,” Lilly said. “I hope you didn’t hurt him. He’s the littlest one, you know.”
“He looked fine to me,” Cora said.
“I’ll check on him.” Lilly dashed off with Rose after her.
Pa gave the horse the tonic, then he and Ma wandered away, leaving Cora alone with Wyatt.
She wasn’t sure what to say. Was she supposed to escort him down to the river? She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “My sister worries so much about those pigs.” She realized she might not appear to be sympathetic and she truly was. “Don’t get me wrong. I adore my sister. Both of them. They mean the world to me.”
He studied her a moment, his eyes filled with those dark secrets she’d noticed before. “I guess your family is your life.”
She’d never thought of it that way, but it was true. “Yes, they are.” She wanted to ask about his family, but before she could, he spoke again.
“Your pa said I could buy some oats for my horses. Could you tell me where I can find them?”
She went to the shed and pointed to the bins in the corner. “I’d better get back to my work.” She returned to the workroom off the kitchen to churn butter. Even with all the windows open, the room was far too warm. She needed to get a springhouse built so there’d be a cool place to store the butter and cheese during the summer. But she never had enough time, and Pa, bless his heart, tried to help, but he was getting far too old and sore for heavy work.
As she pumped the handle of the churn, her thoughts returned to the cowboy.
When she’d first seen him, she’d hoped he’d come in answer to the notice she’d nailed up in the store several days ago, offering a job to someone who would help her build a new barn. It seemed Mr. Frank, the store owner, was right. No one was going to risk displeasure from the Caldwells by helping the Bells.
The Caldwells objected to the Bells farming in the midst of their ranch land. It was only a mistake, they insisted, that the Bells had been able to file on that particular piece of land. They’d made it clear the Bells should pack up and leave. Pa was equally convinced that the little bit of land they owned next to the river shouldn’t matter to the Caldwells. The cowboys and cows could access the river for miles on either side. So he refused every effort the Caldwells made to convince him to relocate.
But Wyatt had only stopped to take care of his horses, not to help with the barn.
A thought grew. Maybe he’d be interested in helping with the construction work in exchange for oats for the animals and supplies for himself and Lonnie. He certainly looked strong enough to handle the work.
The man hid secrets, but did it matter? He meant to move on. All she cared about was getting the barn finished this summer.
But first she’d make sure he posed no threat to her family.
How was she to find out?
Wyatt led Fanny to the river. Lonnie scrambled to his feet and backed away at their approach. Wyatt hoped to see the fear and tension disappear when Lonnie saw who it was, but neither did.
He sighed. “Lonnie, why do you act like I’m going to hurt you? You know I won’t.”
Lonnie nodded and mumbled. “I guess.”
Guess? Was that the best the boy could do? Wyatt let it go. He could only hope that time would heal Lonnie’s wounds. “Mr. Bell said we could stay here. Help me make camp.” He tossed the end of a rope toward Lonnie. “Stretch it between those trees.” They’d make a rope corral to hold the mares.
Lonnie jumped to do as Wyatt said. Jumped too fast, Wyatt figured. As if he thought that if he dillydallied, Wyatt would boot him. How long would it be before Lonnie stopped expecting to be treated the way their pa had treated him?
Wyatt had set his mind to being patient and soft-spoken with the boy, even when his fearful attitude made him want to shake him.
“That ought to hold them for now. I bought oats from the Bells. How about you give the mares a ration?”
Lonnie eagerly did so. The only time he truly relaxed was around animals. Not that Wyatt could blame him. He, too, had plenty of reason not to trust people. Jail had been a harsh teacher in that regard.
“Now let’s get a camp set up for us.”
“How long are we going to stay?” Lonnie rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.
It was his usual worry stance. Wyatt remembered him doing it from the time he started to walk. Wyatt secretly smiled as he recalled