The Cowboy Father

“Hate it.”

“Do you like stories?” Louisa held up two storybooks she’d enjoyed when she learned to read. The books were well-worn. “These were my two favorites at your age. They’ve been read over and over by myself and my sisters.”

A flicker of interest. Good. “You’ve got sisters?”

“Two. Madge and Sally.”

The interest died. “I’ve got my daddy.” She grew fierce. “He’d be lonely without me.”

“I’m sure he would. He’s fortunate to have you.”

Ellie nodded.

“Just as you’re fortunate to have him. Now, shall I read a story to start with?” Ease into the lessons, Adele had advised.

“I guess.” Her lack of enthusiasm was slightly dampening, but Louisa chose to ignore it, opened the book and began to read. She loved the rhythm of the words, the comfort of the familiar story, but she closed the book at the end of chapter one. “We’ll read more later, but now it’s your turn to read to me.” She handed Ellie the primer Adele thought she would be reading from by now. “Can you read me the first page?”

Ellie fixed Louisa with a stubborn frown and made no move to open the book.

Louisa flipped the pages to the first story. “Start here.”

Ellie didn’t even shift her eyes to the page.

“Ellie, please read this.”

Ellie lowered her eyes, skimmed the page and closed the book. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? Is it too hard?”

“I can’t remember.”

Louisa sighed. “What do you remember?”

“Falling out of the tree and landing wrong. You should have heard my leg. It snapped. Like this.” She clicked her tongue to imitate the sound. “I tried not to cry, but my daddy was gone.”

“Gone? Where?” Was this what he meant when he said it was his fault?

“Out working. We own a ranch, you know. He was checking the cows.”

“I see.”

“So now I have to lie in bed in this horrible cast—” She banged on it, the sound a hollow thud. “I can’t do schoolwork.”

“Of course you can work. There’s nothing wrong with your brain.”

Ellie turned away and stared at the door, as if willing Emmet to appear. And he did—sauntered past as if he had other things on his mind, but Louisa knew he was checking to make sure Ellie was okay. He paused. “Things going well?”

“Daddy.” Ellie’s voice quivered in the saddest possible way.

“Things are just fine.” Louisa grabbed a bit of chalk. “Let’s do some arithmetic now. What is the answer to this?” She wrote “1 + 1=” on the blackboard.

Emmet hesitated, watched a moment longer then moved on, and the outside door whacked shut.

“Ellie?”

The child stared clear through Louisa. “I don’t know.”

“You aren’t even looking.” She tapped the blackboard.

Ellie glanced at the numbers. “Can’t remember.”

Louisa crossed her arms and faced the child squarely. “I don’t think that’s the truth. I know you know the answer to one plus one.”

They did a stubborn silent duel.

“Two.” Ellie was not happy about admitting it.

“Good. Now two plus two.”

“Where’s my daddy? I want my daddy.”

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No. I want my daddy.”

Louisa took two steps until she stood right next to the bed. “Your daddy is working, and you must too.”

“I’m sick.”

“No, you’ve got a broken leg.”

The big gray cat Louisa had met the day before jumped on the bed and stared into Ellie’s eyes.

Louisa laughed. “The cat is telling you to do your schoolwork.”

Ellie shoved the cat to the floor. He landed with a thud and stalked away. “I want my daddy!” Ellie yelled loudly.

Emmet crashed into the house and strode into the room. “Did you call me?”

Ellie nodded, her eyes brimming with innocent tears. “I have to go to the bathroom and Miss Morgan won’t let me.”

Emmet shot Louisa a stinging look.

Louisa wisely refrained from rolling her eyes at the child’s dramatics. Instead, she quietly headed for the door. “I’ll step out while you tend to her needs.”

She came face-to-face with Auntie May. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got in. Emmet and I were fixing the shingles.” Her eyes narrowed. “She been giving you grief?” She tipped her head toward the bedroom.