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He concentrated on slow, deep breaths. He was no longer a child. Now he could make what he wanted of his life. A few days ago he had no doubts about what that was—an isolated cabin and a pen of horses to work with over the winter.
Now long-buried, long-denied wishes seemed determined to reestablish their useless presence. All because of two children who needed a home and acceptance. Their requirements so clearly mirrored what he’d wanted, but never had, as a child.
I am no longer a child. I no longer need or want those things.
He didn’t succeed in putting his thought to rest.
Chapter Four
Becca ached to pull the children to her lap and hold them close. If only she could protect them from the cruelties she knew they’d face.
The children weren’t the only ones she wished she could help. She’d seen the hurt in Colt’s face before he turned away. It pained her to think of the sort of memories that brought such a reaction. A shudder started in her chest, and she stepped away from Pa. With his arm across her shoulder, he might feel it and ask the cause. She began lunch preparation, determined the children and Colt would leave this place with memories of kindness and good food. She stared at the stove a moment, trying to think how she could make the meal special. Smiling, she pulled out pots.
Her mother had always made tomato soup for special occasions. She would do the same, though she’d never managed to make it as good as Ma did.
A little later the soup was gone, as was the bread she’d served with chokecherry jam.
Little Joe had purple jam smeared on his face, along with a look of satisfaction.
Marie managed to eat more neatly, and smiled at Becca. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
Colt’s head jerked up, and his dark eyes bored into her. What had she said to make him look at her that way?
He shifted his attention to Little Joe. “I think a little boy is ready for a nap.” He swung from his chair and lifted the child.
“Put him on my bed.” She rushed ahead and opened the door.
Colt hesitated.
“He’ll get a good rest here.” Still, the man did not move. “Is something wrong?”
Colt’s gaze found hers, and she saw confusion.
“Oh, give him to me and I’ll put him down.” But Little Joe fussed and clung to Colt.
Marie marched ahead and climbed on the bed. “I’ll take him.”
Little Joe went eagerly to his sister, and the pair cuddled together. Becca covered them with a quilt, then turned to speak to Colt but he’d disappeared.
“Pa, where did he go?”
Pa yawned and stretched. “Said it was a good time to check on the horses. He’ll be back when he’s done.” He went to his room and closed the door. He’d sleep maybe an hour before returning to the store. If a customer came, Becca would wake him.
Suddenly she was alone. Would Colt take all afternoon to complete his chores? She wanted to ask him some questions.
After she finished cleaning the kitchen and doing some chores of her own, he stomped into the store. A few seconds later he stood in the doorway.
“Come on in.”
His gaze darted about the room. “Where’s your pa?”
“Resting.” She tilted her head toward the closed door.
Colt began to back away.
“Don’t go. Sit and visit awhile.”
He swallowed loudly.
She thought he would turn tail and run, but he slowly crossed the threshold.
She sat in one of the big chairs and waved him toward the other, but he slowly circled the room and came to a stop in front of Ma’s picture. “Is your ma back east?”
“No. She died two years ago.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“There’s no way you could know without asking.”
He nodded. “You ever been east?”
“Once. When I was fifteen. Ma had been sick quite some time, and Pa sent her to Toronto to see a doctor.”
“Did you like it there?”
She thought of the strangeness of the city...the dirt, the noise and the way people rushed about. “Not really.”
“So why are you going back?”
“My mother asked for my promise as she lay dying. The least I could do was agree.”
He turned toward her, his eyes watchful. “The least? Why do you say that?”
“Because it was my fault she didn’t get better.” The words she’d never confessed to another soul fell from her lips.
The way he raised his eyebrows requested an explanation.
“I was unhappy in Toronto. I missed Pa. I missed the open prairies and the sight of the mountains. I asked Ma to let me go home. She agreed and we returned, but she wasn’t better. She never got better.”
“I see.”
The way he said it made her curious. How could he possibly know what it was like? “What do you see?”
“You blame yourself for her dying, though it seems to me if you believe what the Bible says, you have to believe it’s God’s doing.”
The words jolted through her with the power of a flash flood, upending roots of guilt and regret. “If I hadn’t been such a crybaby, she would have stayed and gotten better.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Certainly.” She faltered. “I always thought so.”
“Maybe you thought wrong.”
She stared at him, not really seeing him. Rather, seeing the accusations she’d flung at herself. Had they been unfounded? No one had ever said Ma should stay and get more treatment. No one had ever suggested she might get better if she stayed in Toronto. Had she blamed herself needlessly? How could Colt have seen it so quickly? Yet she wasn’t sure she believed it. If only she hadn’t cried to return home.
Time to change the subject before she was forced to examine her opinions more closely.
“Tell me about your parents.”
He jolted as if shot and turned away, staring at Ma’s picture. “Ain’t nothing to tell.”
“How can that be?” Had they been so cold and uncaring he didn’t allow himself to mention them?
“I don’t know who they are. Never met them.”
“Never?” Shock rattled her thoughts. “Colt, how dreadful.”
He shrugged and turned away. “It’s neither here nor there.”
“But—” Of course it was. No wonder he carried a wounded look.
“How long do you think the kids will sleep?”
She understood what he didn’t say. As far as he was concerned, the subject was closed. But she ached for him and wished she could say something to comfort him, although words could not adequately convey her sympathy any more than they could erase the pain of not knowing who his parents were. She wanted to ask who had raised him. Had he known happiness as a child? But she sensed he wouldn’t welcome any probing.
“I really can’t say.” If the kids slept an hour or better, it would give her a chance to question Colt further. Perhaps he guessed at her curiosity, for he crossed the room.
“I’ll check the stove in the store.” The door closed behind him.
She sighed, suspecting an equally solid door had closed in his mind. He clearly did not want to talk about his parents. She sensed the depth of his pain and wished she could help him.
A little while later, Marie stood in the door, Little Joe at her side.
“We’re awake.” She glanced around the room. “Where’s Colt?”
Little Joe, seeing his friend missing, opened his mouth and let out a wail that threatened to lift the roof from the building.
“He’s in the store.” Becca pointed, knowing they likely couldn’t hear her.
Marie headed that direction, a yowling Little Joe in her grasp.
The door swung open and Colt stepped in. He swept Little Joe into his arms and let the boy burrow his head against his shoulder. The crying ended in a couple of relieved sobs.
How on earth did he expect her to pry these children from him and take them to the fort when they wouldn’t let him out of their sight for a moment?
But she had a few days over Christmas and intended to use it to give these kids a chance to adjust to the truth: their parents were dead, but there were still people who would care for them and love them.
Pa stepped from his room, stretching and yawning. He shook the kettle. “Anyone care for tea?”
“Me, me,” Little Joe crowed.
Becca would put her few days to the best use possible. She pulled cookies out of the pantry and made tea, weakening the children’s with canned milk.
Pa downed his before it had a chance to cool, and grabbed a couple of cookies. “Might have customers show up.” He headed for the store.
When Colt shoved his chair back, the sound reverberated through Becca like thunder.
“I’ll go see if your pa needs help. I heard him say something about shelves.” He headed for the door.
Little Joe scrambled after him.
Colt stopped and squatted to the boy’s level. “You stay here with Marie. I’ll be right there.” He pointed toward the door.
Marie joined them and took Little Joe’s hand. “I’ll look after him.” Her voice trembled.
Becca guessed Marie hated to let Colt out of her sight as much as her brother did, but intended to be brave for Little Joe’s sake.
Colt straightened slowly, his gaze finding a place on the floor to study. Then he lifted his eyes to Becca, and she saw regret and resignation. He clearly understood the children’s fear. And no doubt knew better than most what their future held.
He squatted before them and pulled them both to his chest. “I won’t ever leave without telling you first, so if I say I’m going to help Mr. Macpherson, you can count on me coming back. Okay?”
“Okay.” Marie straightened and pulled Little Joe to her side. “You go help. We’ll help Becca.”
Colt chuckled. “There you go. We all have something to do.”
Becca’s throat tightened with emotion. If only she had the power to change what the future held for these children.
* * *
Colt had no trouble getting Macpherson to let him tackle making shelves in the storeroom. He concentrated on sawing lumber to the right length and affixing sturdy shelving to hold a dizzying array of goods.
“The country is opening up,” Macpherson said as he moved crates and adjusted boxes. “The Gardiners have a lease and are establishing a large ranching operation. I expect I will get the most of their business.” He held the end of a board while Colt nailed it to the supports. When it was in place, Macpherson shook it hard.
“Needs to be good and solid.” He nodded with satisfaction when the shelf didn’t budge. “The OK Ranch was here first, but they’ve had some problems with managers. The Gardiner place won’t be having any such problems. Not with Eddie Gardiner himself running it. Calls the place Eden Valley Ranch.”
Colt measured and cut another board, but curiosity overtook his normal silence. “Why is Eddie Gardiner so important?”
“He’s the son of some rich lord, or something fancy like that, back in England. I hear they’re rolling in money.”
A fine rich man. The sort who would look down his nose at half-breeds, and likely kick them in passing.
Macpherson continued talking. “I rode out that way during the summer. Impressive place, indeed. Those buildings will stand for a hundred years or more.” He looked about the storeroom. “They have a supply shed as big as this room. The whole place is laid out like a little town. Very impressive. You ought to go have a look.”
Colt gave a noncommittal grunt.
“Say.” Macpherson studied Colt as if seeing him for the first time. “You any good with horses?”
