Big Sky Cowboy

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 those good memories before their family had been affect by their pa’s moods. Pa hadn’t always been violent. Wyatt could say exactly when it happened. Seemed it was sometime after Lonnie was born.

“We’ll have to stay until Fanny foals and the baby is strong enough to travel.”

Lonnie held one corner of the tarpaulin they were securing between trees for shelter. “But didn’t she have some kind of tonic? Won’t that make her able to go farther?”

“No, it won’t.” As Mr. Bell said, they had pushed the poor animal too much already.

Lonnie let his corner of the canvas droop.

“We can’t run forever.” Wyatt kept his voice calm and soothing. “Can you hold your corner tight?”

Lonnie jerked the canvas taut. “Why not?”

“We’d run out of money, for one thing.” Besides, he ached to settle down. Had from his first day in jail. One thing he’d promised himself while behind bars—once he got out he’d find a place where he could belong and find peace. He still clung to that dream, though he didn’t know the when or where of it.

“We could go into the bush, and hunt and fish.”

“I suppose we could. We’d be hermits. You think you’d like that?”

“Maybe.”

He tied Lonnie’s corner of the tarpaulin and stepped back. “There. Looks like a nice home for us.” He reached out to drape an arm across Lonnie’s shoulders.

Lonnie shrank away.

Wyatt closed his eyes. It hurt like crazy to be treated this way by Lonnie. “We’ll move on after Fanny’s foal is born and it’s strong enough to travel.”

“How long will that be?” Lonnie asked.

“I expect a month or so.”

“A month!” Lonnie stalked away to the bank of the river, mumbling under his breath. “What if they find out?”

“We’ll make sure they don’t.”

He wanted so much for Lonnie to feel safe with him. To feel safe around other people.

During his days in prison, Wyatt’s only consolation had been reading his Bible and praying. Prayer was unhindered by bars. He’d promised himself to trust God every day and in every way. If he meant to keep his vow, he had to believe they’d been led to this place. Seemed the Bells were the kind of people to extend hospitality for the sake of his animals.

Could it be they would also accept a jailbird? But he wasn’t ready to cast aside his doubts and caution. Not until he’d had a chance to see what sort of folk they were. Even then, parts of his past must remain a secret. But he wanted Lonnie to feel at ease with them. Lonnie’s constant nervousness would surely make people suspicious that something wasn’t right.

“The Bells seem like nice people.” The thought of Cora laughing brought a smile to Wyatt’s face. “You didn’t meet the twins.”

Lonnie turned, an eager expression on his face. “Boys? Are they my age?”

“Girls. And they’re about as big as Cora.”

“Oh, well.” Lonnie moseyed over to Wyatt’s side and sank down beside him. “How old you figure Cora is?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could ask me.” At the sound of a lilting voice, Wyatt jerked about to see Cora standing nearby. “You said you were out of supplies so I brought you some things.” She held up a sack.

Lonnie jerked to his feet and hurried over to the horses.

Wyatt did his best to hide his disappointment at Lonnie’s retreat and turned back to Cora with a smile that didn’t chase the throb from behind his eyes.

At the way her gaze followed Lonnie, he knew she wondered at the boy’s sudden withdrawal.

“He’s shy,” he said by way of explanation.

“Lilly is much the same way.”

“So how old are you?” He hoped it was the kind of question that would divert her from following any suspicions she had about Lonnie’s behavior.

“Twenty,” she answered, her gaze still on the boy. “And you?”

“Twenty-one.” He felt a lot older. Old enough to be weary, though that was as much the result of a year in prison as from being on the road for weeks. “Lonnie’s sixteen.”

She took a good look around. “You’ve got a pretty good setup here.”

“It suits us.”

She nodded. Her gaze came to him and she gave him serious consideration.

What did she see? He banked every thought but survival. She must never guess his secret. “Care to sit a spell?”

She sat on a log to his right.

“I’d offer you cookies and coffee, but I have no cookies and haven’t built a fire yet, so I don’t have any coffee.”