A Family In Wyoming

“Yeah, I know.” Dylan gave a hollow laugh. “I’m just wondering how long I should expect to feel this way.”

Wyatt clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Not forever. You’d be surprised how soon the memories fade.” If he put his mind to it, though, he could recall the sight of her riding into an arena, her long, jet-black hair catching blue sparks from the floodlights, her palomino horse prancing as they carried the American flag along the rail. The epitome of a rodeo queen.

And not in the least interested in becoming a rancher’s wife.

“A woman has a right to the life she wants,” he said, aware the words wouldn’t comfort his brother. “You can’t expect them to give up their ambitions and dreams just because you fell in love.”

“Yeah. I figured that out.” Dylan opened the door to the bunkhouse. “Isn’t it just great, being enlightened?”

Wyatt remembered the fear on Susannah’s face.

Not today, he thought and followed his brother inside.

* * *

THE TEASING BECKY RUSH had been expecting started during lunch.

“Hey, Becky.” Marcos sat down across the table from her. “Nice tan.”

“Thanks.” Feeling her sunburned face get even hotter, Becky tried to play it cool. “I thought I’d try a new look.” She’d overslept this morning and, in her hurry, had forgotten to put on sunscreen. Then she’d left her hat in the cabin and hadn’t had a chance to get it before their trail ride. Now, thanks to the bright summer day, her face was almost the same color as her red hair. Her arms, up to the sleeves of her T-shirt, matched perfectly.

From the chair next to Marcos, Thomas pointed at her with his knife. “What look is that? The lobster?”

Becky sent him a sour smile. “Ha ha.”

Sitting on her right, Lizzie giggled. When Becky glared at her—they were supposed to be best friends—the other girl shrugged. “It was a funny thing to say.”

Marcos pretended to be concerned. “Now, at least, you can hardly see the freckles.”

That one hurt. She hated her freckles, the only thing she’d gotten from the dad who’d walked out on them.

The next comment came from Becky’s left. “Leave her alone,” Nate said. “You don’t want anybody making fun of your color, do you?”

Marcos immediately got mad. “What’s there to make fun of? Huh?”

“Nothing. Which is my point.”

The other boy looked confused. Thomas cracked a laugh. “He told you, man.”

Nate stared at him. “You, too.”

Pushing quickly to his feet, Thomas propped his fists on the table and leaned across, toward Nate. “Listen here—”

Becky caught her breath, and her chest tightened in a way she was all too familiar with. She hated arguments. Thomas and Marcos had been in trouble more than once this summer for fighting each other. Even though there were grown-ups in the room, she didn’t doubt for a minute that either one of the other boys could and would take Nate down. He was tall but thin, not at all a match for the stronger guys.

But he stayed sitting, as calm and controlled as usual in the face of the Thomas’s anger.

Like wind blowing against the face of a high cliff, that fury ended up with nowhere to go. “Stupid,” Thomas muttered, sitting down and picking up his sandwich. “Just stupid.” He and Marcos both made a point of attacking their food, not talking to anyone, even each other. In record time, they’d finished, dumped their plates by the sink and left the bunkhouse. In another minute, Lizzie threw her half-finished food in the trash and followed them out. As usual, Lena and Justino sat together at the end of the table in their own little world—they probably hadn’t even noticed what was going on with everybody else.

Left pretty much alone with Nate, Becky tried to forget how silly she must look with her face the color of a tomato. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “I appreciate the defense.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I know what it’s like to be bullied by those two. They shouldn’t get away with it.”

“You were so quiet, though. At my house, people—my mom and grandma—yell when they argue. Which they do most of the time.” When they weren’t too drunk or stoned to talk at all. She didn’t want to admit that part.

“My dad yells.” He started to say something else and then stopped.

But Becky had noticed the bruise on his jaw the morning in June after Mr. Ford had brought him back to the ranch. She could guess what else his dad did. “I hole up in my room a lot,” she confessed. “Out of the way...if I’m lucky.”

Nate’s fingers were busy, crumbling the half of his sandwich he hadn’t eaten. “Sometimes luck isn’t enough.”

“No.” Funny that they were sharing this personal stuff when they didn’t really know each other that well. They were in the same grade at school but went to different classes—Nate was one of the smart kids in the more advanced courses while Becky only did what she had to to pass at the regular level. What would be the point? Nobody in her family had ever gone past high school. She didn’t expect to be the first.

“I guess we’ve got rodeo practice this afternoon,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “Are you going to compete?” They’d watched a couple of rodeos since they’d been at camp, but Mr. Garrett had announced that morning at breakfast that there would be a junior rodeo up in Buffalo at the end of August and anyone who wanted to could enter an event. Thomas, Marcos and Lena were all excited about the possibility of riding bulls, and they’d been practicing on a bucking barrel for weeks now.

Becky and Lizzie had been learning how to do barrel racing with Ms. Caroline—a timed event which involved running a cloverleaf pattern on their horses. “I’m not sure. My horse, Desi, and me, we’re not too fast—mostly still trotting. I’m not sure I’ll be ready. What about you?”

Getting to his feet, Nate shook his head. “Probably not. I like just riding around, without risking my neck.” Picking up his dishes, he nodded in her direction. “See you at the barn.”

“Sure.” She watched him walk away, noticing his straight back and long legs, the soft brown color of his messy hair. Why hadn’t she noticed before how cute he was? Cute guys who stuck up for girls with freckles and red hair were hard to find. Even harder to get to know.

But she and Nate had more than a month of camp left—plenty of time to become friends. More than friends. Unlike Lizzie, she’d never had a boyfriend, but now she thought it might be nice to have a boy around who understood her, who would fight for her.

Here at the ranch, where they saw each other every day, getting him to notice her, to like her, would be easier than in the crowded bustle of school. And she wouldn’t have to bring him home if they wanted time together. She never brought anybody home.

Cleaning up after lunch with Justino and Lena, Becky found herself smiling for no real reason, except that today was a good day. Sure, her face and arms burned as if she had a fever. But because of that, she’d decided to have her first boyfriend.

And she wouldn’t let the freckles stand in her way.

* * *

FOR THE FIRST time since she’d arrived at the Marshall brothers’ home, Susannah was uncomfortable. And it was her own fault.

Wyatt hadn’t said anything, of course. She would have been relieved if he had—then she could apologize, assure him she wasn’t afraid, had never believed he would hurt her or Amber. Her reaction over the broken computer had been involuntary. Unthinking. Stupid.

The weekend passed and the opportunity she wanted never seemed to present itself. When she did see him—at breakfast—Wyatt was polite but quiet and aloof. He spent more time out of the house than he had since she’d come to stay, ate more meals with the teenagers in the bunkhouse. Short of following him around the ranch, how would she get a chance to talk to him?

Then, on Monday morning, disaster struck. Lena Smith collapsed and was sent to the hospital. Fortunately, the town’s new doctor, Rachel Vale, had arrived and was able to support Garrett as he managed the situation. The kids and the adults left behind were concerned, of course, and hearing that Lena had developed diabetes did not reassure them. Garrett provided some basic information to help the kids cope, but Susannah worried about what would happen when Lena returned to camp. Travis’s mother was a diabetic and kept a very strict diet. What did that mean? How should Lena be eating now?

A library would have the answer, and she was familiar with the one in Buffalo, having taken Nathan and Amber there when they lived nearby. All she had to do was get there.