“What sort of work do you need help with, Mr. Bradley?” she asked, when he came to the end of the list.
“Simple stuff—stocking the shelves, sweeping out, keeping things tidy,” he said. He rang up the total. “Fifteen dollars. I’ll box these and get them out to the buckboard.”
“Are you thinking of bailing out?” he asked as they carried the boxes to the buckboard. “Need a job?”
They walked back to the store together. “No, sir, I promised I would help out and I don’t go back on my word.”
“Why are you interested?”
“I’m asking for Pete Avery,” she said. “Mr. Bradley, Pete doesn’t like ranch work, and he can do all those things you listed.” She clasped her hands together and gave the merchant her kindest smile. “He would feel so useful, and he would be dependable.”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Bradley said, and she heard all the doubt in his voice.
“Could you think about it?” she asked.
“Think about what?”
Startled, she turned around to see Ned standing in the doorway. As she looked at him, her confidence dribbled away. It was probably a stupid idea anyway.
“Your chore girl here is wondering if your brother might be a good store clerk,” Mr. Bradley said, pointing to the help-wanted sign.
Ned stared at the sign, then glared at Kate. “There’s no need to joke about Pete.”
“I’m not joking,” she replied, stung by the disbelief in his voice. “Pete can put cans on shelves. He can sweep and tidy up. He’s polite, and I’ll wager he knows a lot of people here in Medicine Bow.”
“He doesn’t need to work here.” Ned turned away to count out the money he owed. “Unlike you, the Averys aren’t charity cases.”
That stung. Kate felt the familiar prickle of tears behind her eyes. Some imp made her keep talking. “He can do this work, and you know how he feels about riding fence.” She turned to Mr. Bradley, who was watching the two of them with real interest. “If you hire Pete, is there a place he could stay?”
“Right here. There’s a little room off the storeroom,” he said, for some reason taking her side. “I can tell you I wouldn’t mind having someone down here at night. He could eat upstairs with us.”
“It’s out of the question,” Ned replied, but he sounded neither determined nor irritated now.
“Why?” Kate asked softly. “Pete can work and earn money, same as you and me.”
“I’m liking this idea more and more,” Mr. Bradley said. “Why not try? If it doesn’t work after a week or so, we’ll know.” The merchant turned the force of his enthusiasm on Ned. “Your ma used to tell my wife that all she wanted was for Pete to have a chance at something. What could be better than this? He knows Millie and me. Hell, Pete knows everyone in town! What do you say?”
“Just don’t say no so fast, Ned,” Kate urged. “Can we think about it?”
“We?” Ned asked, exasperated again.
You’re not going to make me angry, she thought. She took a deep breath. “Yes, we. If Pete goes to work here, we’ll have to work a little harder to take care of your father.”
“You don’t mind?” Ned asked, and she knew she had him.
“Of course not. Nothing changes for me. You’re the one who won’t have any extra help outside.”
Ned sighed. “As it is, with Pete I’m dragging around a boat anchor. He’d rather do anything than get on a horse and ride all day.”
“There you are,” Mr. Bradley said cheerfully.
Silence for a moment, as Ned looked from her to the merchant and back. “All right. I’ll bring him to town tomorrow and we’ll try it for a week.”
“Shake on it?” Mr. Bradley asked, holding out his hand.
They shook hands, and Kate wanted to do a two-step around the pickle barrel.
Mr. Bradley beamed at them both. “Your chore girl and I loaded the food in the buckboard. Millie and I will tidy that little room tonight. Bring Pete by anytime before noon, will you?”
“You got me,” Ned told Katie after he helped her into the buckboard and went around to his side.
“I saw the sign and thought of Pete,” she said simply, determined not to apologize for a good idea acted upon.
He didn’t say anything for half the journey home, and then he started to chuckle. Kate felt the tension leave her shoulders.
“We’ll try it out,” he told her. “Pete used to milk the cow morning and night. You up for that?”
“If you’ll remind me how. It’s been years.”
“My pleasure.” He started on his tuneless whistle that she was already familiar with. She relaxed some more when Pete met them at the front door—the only door—of the worst place she had ever lived. Funny that she was already thinking of it as home.
Katie gave Ned credit for impressive self-control that night when Pete kept asking every few minutes if he was really going to work in town for Mr. Bradley. He asked it from the stew to the muffins, and only stopped when Ned told him to put a lid on it or he would take it all back.
Reasoning that he hadn’t made any promises to Katie, Pete then asked her over and over, when he was supposed to be teaching her to milk the cow, a rangy little number that didn’t appear to suffer fools gladly, if all those looks she gave Kate were any indication.
“Pack your clothes in that old carpetbag of Pa’s,” Ned said finally. “And don’t drive Pa nuts!” he called after his brother.
“I should have just stuck him in the buckboard tomorrow and told him on the way to town,” Ned grumbled to Kate. He sat down beside her on the stool and nudged her over. He told her to watch him milk and she did, aware of how close he sat and that he smelled of hair oil.
“You got your hair cut,” she said. “I was hoping you didn’t spend all that time in the Watering Hole,” she teased.
He gave her another nudge, which sent her off the stool and frightened the patient mama cat waiting for her turn.
“Beg your pardon,” he said in mock contrition, but he moved over a little and she sat again. “Put your hands beside mine.”
She wondered if she should tell him she had milked cows when she was a little girl. Her step pa had hit her when she didn’t do a good job, but Ned Avery didn’t need to know that.
“You try it now,” he directed.
She did as he said and he watched her. For one small moment, that same irrational fear came over her, but the ending was different this time.
“You’ll do,” he said, and touched her shoulder. He returned to the other side of the barn and finished his chores. He carried the bucket of milk into the house when she finished and told her that his father wanted to see her.
“Don’t look so worried,” he exclaimed.
“My step pa used to beat me when I didn’t do chores the way he wanted,” she told him, embarrassed to admit it, but wanted him to understand her own fear.
“That will never happen here,” he said quietly, then stopped so suddenly that the milk