Big Sky Cowboy

She smiled, sending golden light through her eyes. “Maybe I can help.”

She opened the sack she carried and pulled out new potatoes and carrots so fresh he could smell them. She held up a jar of milk, then set it by him. She unwrapped a generous piece of cheese and set down a half-dozen eggs.

Despite his practice of hiding his feelings, he felt his eyes widen with pleasure at such delights. He swallowed a rush of saliva. He hadn’t seen food such as this in so long it was but a hungry memory.

Then she removed another packet from the sack and unfolded the paper. “Cookies. Ma said you looked hungry.” She grinned with such innocent happiness that his heart twisted into a knot.

Her smile would not be so warm and welcoming if she knew the truth about him.

She would never know.

His gaze clung to the cookies. They’d had nothing but hard biscuits and jerky for three days. “Lonnie, she brought milk and cookies,” he called. “Come have some.”

“What kind?”

Wyatt almost laughed. As if it made any difference. Lonnie was every bit as hungry as Wyatt. “Cow’s milk.”

Lonnie snorted. “I mean the cookies.”

“Oh.” He knew what Lonnie meant but he went out of his way to force his brother to talk to him.

“Oatmeal and raisin,” Cora said. “Ma made them, and she’s a very good cook.”

“Your favorite, if I remember correctly,” Wyatt added.

Lonnie still hesitated.

Wyatt pulled three tin cups from the supplies and held them out to Cora. She unscrewed the lid from the jar and poured milk into each cup. He handed her one cup and took a long drink from another.

“This is so good. I haven’t had fresh milk since—” He smiled as Lonnie moved closer and sat down as far away from Cora as possible and took the cup of milk Wyatt offered.

Cora passed around the cookies. “Have two.” They needed no urging.

For a moment they enjoyed the snack without need for words.

Cora, who only ate one cookie, finished before Wyatt and Lonnie. “Where do you plan on going?”

He’d answered the question when her pa had asked and she knew it. And her quiet tone didn’t make him believe she only made conversation. She wanted to know more about him. And he couldn’t blame her. Two strangers camped so close to their home posed a risk. But not the sort she probably imagined.

“We’ll know when we get there.”

“I suppose. When did you leave your home? Where did you say it was?”

“Didn’t say. We’ve been on the road a couple weeks.” Give or take. He didn’t intend to offer any more information. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Lonnie’s leg bouncing and shot him a look of assurance.

“You have any other family?”

Wyatt choked back the mouthful of cookie, suddenly as dry as dust. He took a sip of milk to wet his mouth.

Lonnie grew as still as the log on which he sat. Wyatt wondered if he even breathed.

“No other family,” Wyatt said softly.

“No ma and pa?” She sounded shocked.

“Ma died a couple months back.” Wyatt figured she’d hung around just long enough for Wyatt’s return. Long enough to make Wyatt promise to take care of Lonnie. Even without Ma’s admonition, he’d have made sure Lonnie was okay. He’d been Lonnie’s guardian and protector since Ma had put the tiny baby, only one day old, in Wyatt’s arms. She’d hugged them both. Wyatt had put his finger in Lonnie’s palm and the baby’s tiny fingers had curled around it.

It probably wasn’t manly to say it, but it had been love at first touch.

He loved his troubled little brother even more now.

“I’m so sorry.” Cora’s voice thickened as if she held back tears. “I can’t imagine not having a ma.”

The river rumbled by, on its way to the ocean, where it would become part of something so much bigger it would disappear. Was that how death was? Or maybe it was only how it felt to those left behind, because he knew Ma had gone to something better where her pain and fear disappeared and she became whole and happy again.

“What about your pa?” Cora asked.

Her words vibrated through the air. Wyatt kept a firm look on Lonnie, silently begging him not to overreact.

Lonnie met his eyes, correctly read Wyatt’s message, and didn’t speak or move.

Relieved, Wyatt smiled and nodded reassurance. He didn’t break eye contact with Lonnie as he answered Cora.

“Our pa’s been dead several months now.” He’d survived the beating but from what Ma and Lonnie said, it seemed something inside him had been broken. He never regained his strength but slowly faded away to a shadow before he died, which was a mercy for Lonnie. It had freed the boy from the fear of more abuse. But from what Wyatt had put together about the year he’d been missing, he figured the boy was made to feel ashamed because he had a brother in prison, and he remained afraid even after Pa was dead and gone.

Cora touched the back of his hand, bringing his attention to her. “I’m so sorry. You’re both far too young to be orphans.” She pulled her hand back to her lap.

His skin where she’d touched him burned as if he’d had too much sun in that one spot. He’d not been touched in a compassionate way in so long he didn’t know how to respond.

“At least we have each other.” He managed to squeeze out the words. He gripped Lonnie’s shoulder, felt the tension and held on until the boy began to relax. “We will always have each other.”

* * *

Cora stared at her empty cup. She tipped it as if she could dredge up another drop of milk and that would somehow give her the words to express her sorrow at their state. No wonder Lonnie acted as though the world was ready to beat him up. Likely that was how it felt.

It was enough to make her want to offer Wyatt and Lonnie a home with the Bells, where they’d find the welcome and warmth she and her sisters had found.

Mrs. Bell had found five-year-old Cora and the twins two days after their real father had ridden away.

Cora remembered how she’d been ready to defend them. “My papa’s coming back,” she’d told Ma Bell. She’d looked down the trail as if he might suddenly appear. “He’ll be here any second now.” They were the same words she’d spoken to the twins throughout the lonely, fear-filled days and night. But the twins had gone readily into Ma Bell’s open arms and been comforted.

Cora had needed a little more persuasion.

“Your sisters are tired and dirty and hungry,” Ma had said. “Why not come with us? I’ll help you take care of them.”

It was the only argument she would have listened to. Their mother had died a few weeks previously, but not before she’d made Cora promise to take care of the twins.

Their father had never returned, though Cora had watched for him for several years. She’d given up looking for him, but she would never forget the promise she’d made to her mother, which meant she must be very careful about every decision she made. On the other hand, Ma and Pa Bell made the promise easy to keep.