Big Sky Cowboy (Montana Marriages #1) Read online

  “I’m so sorry.” Cora’s voice thickened as if she held back tears. “I can’t imagine not having a ma.”

  The river rumbled by, on its way to the ocean, where it would become part of something so much bigger it would disappear. Was that how death was? Or maybe it was only how it felt to those left behind, because he knew Ma had gone to something better where her pain and fear disappeared and she became whole and happy again.

  “What about your pa?” Cora asked.

  Her words vibrated through the air. Wyatt kept a firm look on Lonnie, silently begging him not to overreact.

  Lonnie met his eyes, correctly read Wyatt’s message, and didn’t speak or move.

  Relieved, Wyatt smiled and nodded reassurance. He didn’t break eye contact with Lonnie as he answered Cora.

  “Our pa’s been dead several months now.” He’d survived the beating but from what Ma and Lonnie said, it seemed something inside him had been broken. He never regained his strength but slowly faded away to a shadow before he died, which was a mercy for Lonnie. It had freed the boy from the fear of more abuse. But from what Wyatt had put together about the year he’d been missing, he figured the boy was made to feel ashamed because he had a brother in prison, and he remained afraid even after Pa was dead and gone.

  Cora touched the back of his hand, bringing his attention to her. “I’m so sorry. You’re both far too young to be orphans.” She pulled her hand back to her lap.

  His skin where she’d touched him burned as if he’d had too much sun in that one spot. He’d not been touched in a compassionate way in so long he didn’t know how to respond.

  “At least we have each other.” He managed to squeeze out the words. He gripped Lonnie’s shoulder, felt the tension and held on until the boy began to relax. “We will always have each other.”

  * * *

  Cora stared at her empty cup. She tipped it as if she could dredge up another drop of milk and that would somehow give her the words to express her sorrow at their state. No wonder Lonnie acted as though the world was ready to beat him up. Likely that was how it felt.

  It was enough to make her want to offer Wyatt and Lonnie a home with the Bells, where they’d find the welcome and warmth she and her sisters had found.

  Mrs. Bell had found five-year-old Cora and the twins two days after their real father had ridden away.

  Cora remembered how she’d been ready to defend them. “My papa’s coming back,” she’d told Ma Bell. She’d looked down the trail as if he might suddenly appear. “He’ll be here any second now.” They were the same words she’d spoken to the twins throughout the lonely, fear-filled days and night. But the twins had gone readily into Ma Bell’s open arms and been comforted.

  Cora had needed a little more persuasion.

  “Your sisters are tired and dirty and hungry,” Ma had said. “Why not come with us? I’ll help you take care of them.”

  It was the only argument she would have listened to. Their mother had died a few weeks previously, but not before she’d made Cora promise to take care of the twins.

  Their father had never returned, though Cora had watched for him for several years. She’d given up looking for him, but she would never forget the promise she’d made to her mother, which meant she must be very careful about every decision she made. On the other hand, Ma and Pa Bell made the promise easy to keep.

  The Bells had loved the girls from the first. She wished everyone could have people like them—loving and true. They’d never once given her any reason to doubt them or their word.

  “I’m sorry you don’t have parents,” she said as she handed Wyatt the empty cup.

  Wyatt nodded as he took it from her. “How much do I owe you for the oats and the food? They’re very much appreciated. Thank you, in case I forgot to say that earlier.”

  Normally she would name the price and take the money, but his question gave her a way to see more of him, assess how honest he was. “You can settle up with Pa later.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  She rolled up the sack she’d brought the supplies in and rose. “If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Wyatt rose, too, and smiled at her. “Much obliged.”

  She studied him. He had a nice smile, but it didn’t erase the dark shadows that lingered in his eyes. It was those shadows, and his reluctance to say where he and Lonnie had come from and where they were going, that made her wary of him. “Bye for now.”

  He nodded. “Goodbye.”

  She glanced past him to Lonnie. “Bye, Lonnie.”

  The boy’s head jerked up, his lips parted, his eyes wide. “Bye.” The word squeaked from him.

  Was he afraid of her? But why?

  His eyes went to Wyatt, who stood with his back to his brother.

  Was Lonnie afraid of his brother? That gave her cause for concern. One thing was certain. There was something not quite right with this pair, and until she knew it wasn’t anything that threatened anyone in her family—including herself—she would not be encouraging any contact. She silently prayed as she returned to the farm. God, make the truth known, clear and plain. Protect my family. May we serve You in sincerity and truth.

  Rose and Lilly watched for her return. “Did you find out anything?” they asked in unison.

  “Their parents are dead.” Her voice trembled. “I can’t help feeling sorry for anyone whose parents are dead.”

  The girls nodded.

  Cora said, “Makes us all the more grateful for being adopted by the Bells.”

  “We need to tell them again,” Rose said.

  The girls agreed they would be more faithful at telling their parents how much they appreciated their love.

  Cora knew the twins wondered about their birth parents, but she was the only one with any recollection of them. Not that it mattered. They were now the Bell sisters.

  “Did you find out where they’re going?” Rose asked.

  “How did the mares look?” Lilly added.

  Cora chuckled. “I could tell which one asked each question without seeing either of you. Lilly’s first concern is the animals. Rose’s is to have all the questions answered.”

  The girls faced her as a pair. “Well?”

  She grinned and teased them. “Well, what?”

  “The mares?” Lilly prodded.

  “They looked all right to me, but I honestly didn’t look very closely at them. Wyatt and his brother built a rope corral that looked fine.”

  Lilly sighed long. “The mare he had here was foot weary and about ready to foal. I’m wondering how the others are.”

  Cora gave a little shrug. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say.”

  “Did they say where they were going? Or where they were from?” Rose demanded.

  “No more than they told Pa.”

  “Hmm.” Rose’s brows furrowed. “Why do you suppose they don’t say?”

  Lilly shrugged. “Could be any number of reasons. No need to imagine some deep, dark secret.”

  Rose huffed. “I’m not imagining anything. I just don’t like unanswered questions. Or unfinished business. Seems to me if a person has nothing to hide they can answer civil questions.”

  Lilly gave her twin a fierce look. “Or maybe they just want to be left to themselves.”

  “Girls,” Cora soothed before the pair got really involved in their differing opinions. “I’ve decided we should give the two of them a wide berth until we’re certain they pose no risk.”

  “Risk to who?” Rose demanded.

  “Their poor animals.” Lilly shook her head.

  “A risk to us,” Cora corrected. “To you two. To Ma and Pa. They seem harmless enough, but I don’t intend to believe first impressions. Now let’s get the chores done and help Ma with suppe
r.”

  She brought in the two milk cows and milked them while Lilly fed the pigs and chickens. Rose gathered the eggs and went to help Ma.

  That evening they kept busy with shelling the peas they’d picked earlier. It gave them plenty of time to talk and even more time to think.

  Even without the conversation circling back to the two newcomers and their horses, Cora’s thoughts went unbidden to Wyatt sitting down by the river in his crude little camp. Hungry, orphaned and caring for a younger brother who seemed troubled, to say the least.

  Or was she being like Rose and, in her search for answers, making up things that had no basis in fact?

  One thing was certain. She would not let down her guard until she had some assurance that it was safe to do so.

  * * *

  Wyatt didn’t come to pay Pa that evening. Perhaps he’d taken the feed and victuals and moved on. In the morning, Cora slipped close enough to see that they were still there. Lonnie was brushing Fanny until her coat shone. Where was Wyatt? She looked around. Then she spotted him, headed up the hill toward the house.

  She bolted to her feet and scampered back before he got there. Slightly breathless, she hurried to meet him.

  “Good morning. I came to pay your pa,” he said, snatching his hat from his head. His face was slightly reddened, as if he’d scrubbed it hard in cold water. He was freshly shaven. She hadn’t noticed his well-shaped chin yesterday. His damp hair looked black.

  “He’s in his work shed. I’ll take you to him.” She led the way to the weather-stained building where Pa spent many happy hours.

  “Pa,” she called. “Mr. Williams has come to pay for the oats and the food I took him last night.”

  Pa’s head poked around a cupboard. “Can’t you take care of it?”

  “Not this time, Pa.”

  He considered her a moment, seemed to understand she had her reasons and emerged. “So what did you take him?”

  She told him. “I’ll leave you to it.” She backed away and ducked around the corner of the building to listen. Perhaps she’d see his true character in how he treated Pa. To many, her pa appeared a crippled old man. But he had his wits about him and saw far more than most realized.

  Pa named a sum and coins rattled as Wyatt paid the amount.

  But Wyatt didn’t move away.

  “What do you think of this?” Pa asked and Cora knew he wanted Wyatt to look at his latest invention.

  “Interesting. What is it?” Wyatt sounded sincere.

  “I’m trying to figure out how to hoe four rows at once.”

  Cora smiled. Pa was always experimenting and inventing. Some things turned out well, others not so well, but like Pa said, you had to try and fail before you could succeed.

  “I’m not sure I’ve got the angle of the hoes just right. Could you hold it so I can check?”

  Wyatt’s boots clumped on the wooden floor as he moved to help Pa. “It’s a mite heavy,” Wyatt said.

  “Do you think it’s too heavy for the girls? Bear in mind they’re good strong girls.”

  Wyatt grunted a time or two. “Seems as if it would be a big load, especially if they’re supposed to pull it through the soil.”

  “You could be right. Maybe if I shape the hoes to a point?”

  “Might work.”

  A thump, rattle and several grunts came from the shed.

  Cora edged around the corner so she could see what they were doing.

  They’d turned the hoe over on its back and Wyatt squatted next to Pa. “Maybe like this?” He indicated with his finger.

  “That might do it.”

  “You maybe should get some metal ones. They’d cut through the soil better.”

  Pa gave Wyatt an approving smile. “Yup. Figured to do that once I get the working model figured out.” He rubbed his crippled leg. “Sure can’t move about the way I used to.”

  Cora saw Pa’s considering look. She didn’t want him to get it in his head that he’d return to work on the barn. He was getting too old and had already had one fall. No, she’d do it by herself before she’d let that happen. She sprang forward.

  “Pa—oh, hi, Wyatt. Did you two sort out the payment?”

  “Sure did.”

  Pa turned back to his hoe. “I’m going to try that.”

  Wyatt patted Pa’s back. “Don’t hesitate to ask if you need help with it. Or anything.”

  “Maybe you’d like a tour of the place.” Now, why had she offered that? She didn’t have time for a social visit. Not with beans to pick and potatoes to hill and hay to cut and stack. She could be three people, and the twins could be doubled, and the work would never end. Which, she supposed, about described the lot of most farmers. But having offered, she had little choice but to show the stranger around and learn more about him.

  One way or another.

  Chapter Three

  Wyatt would enjoy seeing more of this tidy little farm. He didn’t mind the company, either. The young woman’s chatter was a pleasant change from Lonnie’s dour complaints about having to stay in one place. No amount of explaining about the necessity of stopping for Fanny’s sake satisfied him. Wyatt had been grateful to leave the boy cleaning up the campsite after breakfast.

  He and Cora fell in, side by side. The lop-eared dog trotted alongside them. He tripped over himself and skidded into the ground.

  Wyatt chuckled. “What kind of dog do you call that?”

  “He doesn’t mind what we call him, so long as we don’t call him late for supper.”

  Wyatt laughed. She sure did have a way of easing his mind.

  As they walked beside the garden, Cora explained that they grew enough to supply their own needs and sell to others. But she stopped when they reached an overgrown patch of wild plants.

  “We don’t ever touch that,” Cora said. “It’s Ma’s healing plants. She is the only one who can tell which ones are good and which are weeds. To me, they all look like weeds. She lets them grow wild and untamed. I’ve suggested she should tidy them to rows so we can clean up the patch.” Cora sighed. “By her reaction, you’d think I’d told her I planned to plow it under. So it stays that way.”

  Wyatt studied the unruly growth, and compared it to the rest of the neat garden. He understood the need for order, allowing the plants to be better tended, but something about the untamed patch pulled at his thoughts. Wild and free. He shifted back to study of the tidy garden. Order and control. He’d had enough of the latter while in prison, but the former didn’t satisfy him, either. Was it possible to have something in the middle?

  Cora cleared her throat to get his attention. He must have been staring at the plants long enough to make her wonder why they interested him so much.

  “Maybe it could do with just a little taming,” he said, as if that had been his only thought.

  “That’s what I said to Ma.”

  They proceeded down a pathway between the two gardens. Grub, seeing the direction they headed, loped ahead of them.

  “Ma and Pa have planted berry bushes of all sorts—raspberries, gooseberries, currants, chokecherries—and fruit trees. We get lots of berries, but not much fruit. Seems we always get frost too soon and the winters are too severe. Pa’s been grafting fruit trees to wild trees to see if that will work.”

  The idea intrigued Wyatt. Was this a way of combining wild and free with tame? Would it work for a tree? How about a man? “Has it?”

  “There is a lot of winterkill, but a couple of trees have given us sour little apples. Pa is determined to produce a decent apple. Says he’ll call it a Montana.”

  They passed the bushes and reached a fence. Three cows grazed in a little pasture.

  “I’m currently milking two of them.”

  A flock of sheep nibbled in another fenced area of
grass, and a field of green oats lay beyond.

  “The sheep are Lilly’s project.”

  A trail led toward the river and they followed it. When they reached the water’s edge, she stood in the shadow of the trees. They were downstream and out of sight from where Lonnie waited at the camp Wyatt had set up. He stood at her side with the sound of the water rumbling through his thoughts.

  “This is one of my favorite spots.” She sighed. “I can see so far. Look.” She pointed. “The prairies roll away like giant waves.”

  He followed her direction. Indeed, the prairies were like a golden ocean. They went on and on. No walls. No bars. A man could fill his lungs to capacity here.

  She shifted, brushing his arm as she pointed to his right, sending a jolt through his nerves. Even an accidental touch startled him. He wondered if she noticed, and if so, what did she think? Would she put it down to unexpectedness? Of course she would. She had no way of knowing that any contact in jail had signaled violence, and before that, Pa’s touch had taught him to jerk away.

  No wonder Lonnie was so anxious about even gentle touches. But Wyatt would teach him...teach them both to welcome such.

  Cora spoke softly. “In that direction you see the hills with their hollows full of trees.” She turned still farther. “And the mountains in the west. ’Tis truly a beautiful land, and like Pa says, we are to be good stewards of it.”

  “I never thought of being a steward of the land.”

  “I take it you’re planning to have a ranch and raise horses.”

  It was an obvious conclusion. “Kind of hope to.”

  “Are you opposed to farmers?

  He shrugged. “Not opposed to much of anything.”

  She shifted and pinned him with a look. “Don’t you believe in seeking good and avoiding evil?”

  Her look reached into his chest to squeeze his heart. He stiffened as pain and regret oozed out. “I hate evil.” She’d never know how much of it he’d seen.

  She nodded silent approval and his heart beat smoothly again.

  He heard the sound of horses’ hooves and turned to see two riders approach. Beside him, Cora stiffened, alert and cautious.