Hallie's Hero

“It’s okay. I guess.”

Jack glanced around. Serenity had obviously been at work cleaning, changing the bed and moving Ben’s possessions into the adjoining room. But a few things remained: a pile of clothes strewn over a chair; boots tossed in a corner; a lamp with what looked like a brightly colored scarf no lady would wear draped over the shade; a silver garter hung on the corner of a picture frame. Ethan ought to feel right at home, he mused ruefully, remembering the room he and Mattie had shared at the Silver Snake.

What on earth had convinced Mattie he’d be good for her son? Being a father had caught him completely by surprise. His relationship with Mattie had been brief, like most everything else in his life. He’d never taken it or any other dalliances with women too seriously. Women had been something to entertain him between card games.

But now the result of those few nights in Mattie’s bed nine years ago was sitting next to him.

He didn’t have the first idea of how to be a parent or make a family. He knew even less about ranching. But he did know one thing. Ethan wasn’t going to grow up the way he had. His boy would have roots, a home, a real father.

Whatever those were.

Jack glanced at his son. When he’d told Ethan they were moving to the ranch, the boy had flatly refused to go. He’d only left Mattie’s room after the woman who owned the saloon told him he couldn’t stay.

Walking out of the Silver Snake, and all during the ride to Eden’s Canyon, Ethan had said nothing. But Jack recognized something familiar in the way the boy held himself stiff and still. Ethan might have been the image of himself at eight years old, sitting on the porch of a San Francisco hotel while his father argued with his mother over which of them should keep him.

“Ethan?”

The boy kept staring at his hands.

“I want to talk to you about a few things. You don’t have to answer, but I hope you’ll listen, because this is important, for both of us.”

No response.

Jack pushed on, determined to have his say even if he ended up talking to himself. “I’m sorry about your ma, Ethan. I told you before, I didn’t know she was sick and I didn’t know about you until I got the telegram a few weeks ago.”

Ethan’s shoulders shifted in what might have been a shrug.

“I know this isn’t where you want to be right now, but we can’t stay at the saloon. We need a home and this is going to be it. We’re going to learn to be ranchers, and one day, this place will be yours.”

His last words seemed to rouse Ethan. “Miss Hallie says it’s hers,” the boy said, without looking up. “She doesn’t want us here.”

That’s an understatement, Jack thought. “Not now. But she’ll get used to us. And she can teach us a lot.”

“She ain’t like Ma or Kitty or any of the other girls.” His face pinching in a frown, Ethan twisted his fingers harder together. “Her skin don’t look soft, her lips ain’t red and she don’t smell pretty.”

“Uh, no, but—”

For the first time Ethan looked up at him, his mouth set in a determined line. “She ain’t gonna be my new ma and we ain’t ever gonna be a family.” It was both a plea and a decree. “I don’t want no other ma. ’Specially one who ain’t even a real girl.”

“I didn’t bring you here to find you a new ma.”

“Why’d you come here then? You’re a card player, not a rancher. I seen you. You’re real good. Ma said so, too.”

Despite the truth in them, Ethan’s words made Jack uncomfortable. “Trust me,” he said, his face hardening, “living in saloons is no life for a kid.”

Ethan whirled away to face the wall. Tentatively, Jack touched his back. He was about to ask what the matter was when he caught sight of a corner of the yellow cloth Ethan still gripped, his thumb rubbing the edge of it.

“You miss your ma,” Jack said softly, “don’t you?”

Ethan sucked in a broken breath.

“Of course you do. And you’re going to miss her a good, long while. I can’t make that easier for you.”

A shudder passed over Ethan and he stifled a sob, roughly wiping the back of his hand against his eyes.

Impulsively, Jack put his arm around Ethan’s shoulders and drew the boy close against his chest, holding him awkwardly as Ethan finally let go of his tears.

It wasn’t going to be easy for either of them. But Jack had to make it work.

Serenity, a wooden spoon in one hand and a crumpled dish cloth in the other, flitted about the kitchen like a skittish bird, checking a pan here, a platter there. “I started so late on supper, it’ll never be ready on time.”

“It’ll be ready,” Hallie said, not looking up from the cornbread batter she stirred with unnecessary force. “I’m here to help you. And we won’t have Dakota underfoot in here. This is one place he’s sure to stay clear of.”

“You don’t like him much, do you?”

Hallie stopped stirring and stared at the girl. “He practically stole my ranch.”

“He bought it from the bank,” Serenity pointed out, avoiding looking at Hallie as she began setting the plates on the long pine table. “He is letting us all stay. He can’t be so bad, can he? Besides, he’s awfully nice to look at. So clean and polished and all.”

“What difference does that make?” Hallie said, irritated that Serenity would even notice. “And he’s only letting us stay because he wants me to teach him how to run this place.”

Serenity stopped in the motion of putting down forks, biting at her lower lip. “You mean he’ll make us leave after he learns?”

Hallie heard the flood of fear in Serenity’s anxious voice. At fifteen, Serenity had fled her grandparents’ home to escape an arranged marriage. Orphaned as a toddler, she’d been raised by her grandparents and had always loved them. But the mere idea of marrying a man twice her age repulsed and terrified her, so she’d run away, ending up on Hallie’s doorstep a month later, bedraggled, half-starved and looking for work.

Hallie knew part of Serenity still expected either her grandparents or the man she’d been promised to to one day show up and try to claim her, even after two years. She could see that the idea of being forced away from Eden’s Canyon terrified the girl.

“Don’t worry yourself, Dakota won’t be around long enough to learn,” Hallie told her. “He’ll hit the trail just as soon as he figures out there’s no excitement here. I know his kind.”

She stopped short of saying she’d lived with his kind all her life—both her brother and her father. Serenity had a soft spot for Ben, and it was no good telling the girl anything that might be opposite the image she had of him.

“I don’t know about that,” Serenity said, her expression thoughtful. “He does have Ethan now.”

“You wait and see.” Hallie began scooping spoonfuls of batter into the square pan, slapping it so hard that yellow drops spattered over the worktable. “He may be the gambler, but I’d wager my stake in this ranch that Jack Dakota won’t last here six months.”

“I’d ask you to shake on that, but I can’t win something that’s already mine.”

Hallie jumped at the sound of Jack’s deep voice behind her. All at once she felt unsettled and annoyed, and angry at herself for letting him do that to her. She’d known lots of men—cowhands, ranchers, even a few gamblers Ben played with. But none of them ever made her feel like she couldn’t move without tripping over herself.

She turned to look as Jack, with Ethan at his side, strolled into the kitchen. The man was clean-shaven, dressed in a fine white shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders beneath a black leather vest, and his pants clung to his hips as though they’d grown there.

Glancing at Serenity, she saw the girl’s admiring look. But when Serenity turned and saw Hallie watching, too, the girl flushed scarlet and quickly switched back to setting the table. Hallie realized she had no ally there.

“We don’t dress for supper,” Hallie told Jack, as she went back to her chore, shoving the pan of cornbread into the belly of the iron stove. She wiped her hands down her pants, leaving a streak of yellow, and imagined she must look a right pretty sight compared to Jack’s and Ethan’s spit and polish.

“We didn’t,” Jack said. He leaned against the worktable, smiling at her rumpled hair and the smudge of flour on her nose. “We came to offer our help.”

“Help?” Hallie looked him up and down. “With what?”