The Cowboy Comes Home

“Fine.” She turned toward the house, called over her shoulder. “I’ll holler when coffee is ready.”

“Fine. I’ll get this tree done.”

Her steps slowed to a crawl and she slowly turned. “Make sure the ladder is secure before you go back up.”

“I don’t aim to break any limbs, except the damaged ones on the tree.” He didn’t even try to keep the tightness from his voice. After all, how could he care for his father and earn enough money for pain medication if he broke an arm or leg?

No sir. He had his priorities straight.

Chapter Four

Sally ground the coffee beans with a great deal of vigor. She had helped him and ended up getting scolded. She should have let the man fall on his head. Might teach him a lesson.

The coffee grinding forgotten, she stared at the far wall of the kitchen. He might have killed himself. Or done serious physical harm. The stupid man. Did he think himself invincible? She shivered as her mind filled with a vision of his battered body beneath the tree.

She sprang to the window to make sure he wasn’t sprawled motionless on the ground. Her breath thundered from her lungs as she saw him astraddle a branch.

She sucked in air, finding her ribs strangely stiff, then turned back to the task of making coffee. She didn’t want him hurt on her watch. Abe would surely think she’d neglected her duties if he was. There was no other reason. But her lungs stiffened again as she thought of looking up in anticipation as he called her name and how her heart jolted when she saw him dangling in midair. The remnant of a panicked feeling lingered behind her breastbone, and she forced it away with determined deep breaths.

She poured the ground coffee into the pot and set it to boil. Carol would soon return from school, and Sally always prepared a snack for the child. Carol was way too thin and barely ate enough to keep a mouse alive. Sally ached for the child, understanding that she mourned her mother’s death. Much as Sally had done for her father.

Linc would have to wait for coffee until Carol got home. She ignored the reason for her decision—there was safety in having both children to hide behind.

How ridiculous. He was only here to do odd jobs for Abe. And she was here to establish how well she could cope. Having focused her goal clearly in her mind, she gave herself a good study. Her skirt carried a liberal amount of dust from working in the garden, and her shoes needed cleaning. Moving toward the plate glass mirror over the couch in the front room, she saw blotches of dust on her face, her unruly curls frosted with the ever invasive brown soil filling the air. “Sally, you look like a homeless tramp. Go clean up,” she said.

A few minutes later, shoes cleaned, skirts dusted, face washed and hair brushed until it gleamed, she paused again in front of the mirror and smiled at herself. Now she’d pass inspection. And just in time, as Carol slipped through the back door. Only because Sally knew enough to listen for her did she even notice her entrance. “Hi, Carol. How was your day?”

“Okay.” She sank into her customary chair at the kitchen table and let her head droop.

“Anything special happen?”

“No.” The word seemed to require a great deal of effort.

Sally studied the child a moment longer, wishing she could offer comfort, but Carol would shrink back if Sally tried to hug her. What she needed was her mother, but her mother was gone. Sally touched the top of Carol’s head. “We have company for snack time.”

Carol perked up. “Who?”

“Why don’t I let you see for yourself?” Sally went to the door and called. “Coffee’s ready. Come and get it.”

Linc dropped to the ground and gave her a wave to acknowledge he’d heard.

Robbie straightened, glanced toward Linc and when he saw the man wave, he turned to Sally and did the same. When Linc dusted off his pants, so did Robbie. Only in Robbie’s case, the result was a brownish cloud.

Sally watched another moment, smiling as Robbie imitated everything Linc did. She wondered if Linc noticed.

The distance prevented her from seeing his eyes, but he flashed a grin at her that made her gasp and duck back inside. She pressed her hand to her chest and instructed her heart to beat calmly. She did not understand this out-of-control reaction. She, Sally Morgan, twenty years of age, was a cautious young woman who did not do foolish things. Nor was she about to change because someone had a wide smile that made her think of wild-flowers and open spaces.

Having set her mind back on a corrected course, she put out a coffee cup for Linc, poured milk for the children and placed a selection of cookies on a plate.

Linc and Robbie came through the door together.

“I got a real good fort built,” Robbie said. “I think I’ll put a fence around it.”

“Good fort needs a good fence.” Linc sounded as if it was the most important thing he could discuss.

“You seen any forts?” Robbie asked.

“Only in museums. I’m grateful we don’t need them to protect us anymore.” He glanced about. “Is there a place I can wash up?”

Sally indicated the sink in the back room that served as pantry and laundry room.

Robbie followed Linc and washed his hands without being told. If only the boy could be so cooperative all the time. She poured coffee into the cup she’d set out for Linc and waited for the pair to return.

Robbie scampered to his chair and downed his glass of milk in loud gulps. “Can I have more?”

“Whoa. Slow down,” Linc said. “You wouldn’t want to drown yourself, now would you?”

Robbie giggled and planted himself more squarely in his chair, apparently intending to wait patiently.

“And who is this pretty young gal?” Linc indicated Carol.

His words jarred Sally into action. “This is Carol Finley.” She told the girl who Linc was, saying he visited his grandmother across the alley, leaving out all the vicious rumors.

“Pleased to meet you.” Linc reached for Carol’s hand and bent over slightly as he shook it.

Carol flushed a dull red, pulled her hand to her lap and ducked her head.

Guess he had the same disconcerting effect on both young and grown girls. The thought comforted Sally, but she experienced a twinge of sympathy for Carol’s confusion.

Linc shifted his attention to the table, nodded toward the cup of steaming coffee. “For me?”

Sally jerked herself out of her thoughts. “Yes. And please, sit down and help yourself to cookies.”

He sat and tasted his coffee. “Yum. Hard to beat fresh coffee.”

Sally refilled Robbie’s glass and passed the plate.

Carol lifted her face as she took a cookie. Her eyes darted toward Linc and she ducked away again.

Smitten, Sally thought. And as embarrassed about her reaction, as I am about mine.

“Did you bake these?” Linc lifted a ginger cookie to indicate what he meant.

“Yes.” Sally prayed her cheeks wouldn’t darken in echo of Carol’s reaction. She was, after all, a grown, self-controlled woman. “My father’s favorite cookie.”

“They’re good.” He sighed. “Not at all like the hard tack and beans a cowboy gets used to eating.”

Robbie nearly squirmed right off his chair. “You a real cowboy?”