Montana Cowboy Family

by Linda Ford

  Her eyebrows rose at that confession. He hoped she wouldn’t demand an explanation, because he didn’t intend to tell her how faulty his judgment was concerning women.

  “Every man deserves a chance to start over. I’m willing to give Mr. Weiss that much leeway.”

  She crossed her arms, a look of defiance on her face. “Just because your family is perfect doesn’t mean these children don’t need someone to defend them.”

  He leaned closer and spoke firmly. “And I’m not suggesting they don’t. I’d be hard-pressed to stand back and allow the children to be mistreated.” He sat back on his heels. “Though the law is on the father’s side.”

  The children finished in the bedroom, went to the cot in the living room and proceeded to work together to prepare it for Sammy. Any more conversation between Sadie and Logan would have to wait for another time and place.

  The bed done, the three children sat on it, watching the adults.

  He told himself he did not see wariness in every pair of eyes. Except he did, and it seemed out of proportion for young ones who had been offered a place of shelter and a warm, nourishing meal.

  He sniffed. “Sure smells good in here.”

  “We made stew,” Jeannie said, a shy smile brightening her brown eyes.

  “You’re welcome to join us,” Sadie said. “After all, you’ve been busy taking care of our needs.”

  She managed to say thank you at the same time as she pushed him out of the picture, making him feel he had no part in this plan. He wasn’t about to accept that. He faced her. “Miss Sadie Young, let’s get something straight. The children have chosen to stay here, but, in essence, we are partners in this venture. Understand?”

  Her eyes went from surprise to shock, and then she put up a barrier so he couldn’t tell what she thought.

  “Understand?” he repeated, wanting her to agree.

  “If you insist.”

  He closed his eyes. Agreement, yes, but not the way he wanted it. But what was he to do? He looked at the children. Jeannie had climbed onto Beth’s lap and clung to her. Both Beth and Sammy had a tight, closed look about them. Of course they didn’t know what to expect when the two adults who had whisked them away from their home seemed to be angry with each other. From now on, he would be careful to confine any sign of disagreement between himself and Sadie to private moments. “Thank you for inviting me to share supper with you. I accept.”

  Sammy looked toward the table. “Where you gonna sit? There’s only four chairs.”

  Logan chuckled. “I’ll be right back. Don’t eat without me.” He jogged out the door and across the street to Marshall’s Mercantile. “Uncle George, can I borrow a stool?”

  His uncle stared at him like he’d fallen through the roof and landed in the middle of the store. He recovered from his surprise. “Help yourself, but may I ask what you need it for?”

  He told about the children moving in with Sadie. “I’m joining them for supper but we’re shy one chair.” He grabbed a stool from the corner. Normally, men gathered around the stove to visit, but none were present at the moment. “Say, have you heard anything more about Mr. Weiss?”

  “Nothing. I’ve not seen hide nor hair of the man since he stopped by to inquire about the house, if you care to call it that. I thought he’d be in to stock up, but nope. Maybe he’s got all the supplies he needs.”

  “No, they were out of food.” He didn’t say how little the children had. Somehow, he felt he needed to keep private the details of their situation.

  “You could ask at the post office.”

  “I’ll do that in the morning.” He’d be asking at every business in town until he found the man or learned of his whereabouts. “Thanks for the stool.”

  “Keep it as long as you need.”

  He hurried back to the school. He sure wasn’t getting much work done on the building. Grandfather would have something to say about that.

  Sammy waited at the door and held it open for Logan. The table was set for five, a pot of stew in the middle and a pile of sliced bread on a plate beside it. Logan’s mouth watered. He had left home with the wagon loaded for Sadie and the children just as Annie was serving supper. He could help himself to leftovers when he got back, but it wasn’t the same as a warm meal.

  He parked the stool by the table. “This is just like a real family.” He meant for the children to feel at home and glanced about at the four people waiting for him. Their expressions varied from curious, on Sammy’s part, to Jeannie’s innocence, to guarded wariness in both Sadie and Beth. Sadie had made her jaded opinion of family clear. Someday he’d find out what had happened to cause that, but to see a similar expression on Beth’s face, a sweet thirteen-year-old, twisted his gut.

  He made up his mind at that moment to show them they could trust him and, by doing so, learn to believe in the goodness of family.

  “Please, everyone sit down.” Sadie motioned toward the chairs.

  He perched on the stool. Sadie ended up kitty-corner to his right. Beth sat across from him, sliding her chair as far to his left as possible, likely so she could be close to Jeannie, who sat at the other end. That left Sammy to sit next to him.

  Logan was relieved when the boy grinned at him as he took his place. “Us men got to stick together,” Sammy said with a great show of expanding of his chest.

  Beth ducked her head but not before Logan caught the smile on her face.

  He only wished she’d looked at him long enough to see his answering smile. He turned to Sammy. “We sure do.” He was about to pat the boy on the back when he remembered how he’d flinched and settled for squeezing his arm.

  “’Course, I am the man of the family now,” Sammy boasted.

  Beth’s head came up, her eyes wide with shock. The same sense of shock raced through Logan and he looked to Sadie. Her eyes narrowed, her lips tightened. She’d heard the boy and, like Logan, wondered what he meant. It was surely a slip of the tongue.

  “While your father’s away?” Logan prompted.

  “Yeah. That’s right.” Sammy studied his plate, then gave the pot of stew a longing look. “Sure smells good. Makes my taste buds work really hard.”

  Sadie blinked away her shock and curiosity. “Shall we eat before it gets cold? Logan, would you say grace?”

  Logan nodded and looked about the table for the children to bow their heads.

  Sammy and Jeannie did so quickly. Beth, however, held his gaze for a moment. He couldn’t read her expression. She was far too good at hiding her feelings. But he sensed something challenging in her look before she clasped her hands and bowed her head.

  He bowed his head and gathered his thoughts. “Lord God, thank You for family to share the plenty You have provided. Thank You for the food to bless our bodies and Your love to bless our souls. Amen.”

  He lifted his head and turned toward Sadie to help her serve the meal. His gaze brushed past Beth and then jerked back at the glisten of tears in her eyes. “Beth, is something wrong?”

  What a silly question. There were so many things wrong. Her mother dead. Her father missing. And now being shuffled off to live with strangers. “I mean did I say something, do something, to upset you?”

  She shook her head, blinking her eyes until all sign of tears disappeared. “No. I just remembered something. Nothing important.”

  Sammy handed his plate to Sadie to fill it with stew. “You remembered—ow. Why’d you kick me?”

  “Sorry. It was an accident.”

  Logan looked from brother to sister and back again. It had been no accident. Beth meant to stop Sammy from saying something. But what? No point in asking. The children weren’t about to tell them anything. He took Beth’s plate and handed it to Sadie to fill, and then Jeannie’s and Sammy’s. Last, he handed his to Sadie.

  Their gazes connected and held as a dozen thoughts blazed through his mind that he wished he could share with her. She lowered her eyelids enough for him to know she had the same questions he did. He
gave a slight lift of one shoulder and she raised her brows in acknowledgment. They would do their best to discover the truth about this family, but if the way the children withdrew was any indication of how reluctantly they’d give answers, it wasn’t going to be easy.

  The children each took a slice of bread and turned their attention to the meal, eating quietly and neatly, their silence such a marked contrast to mealtimes at the ranch that Logan wasn’t comfortable. He much preferred the noisy interaction of people talking.

  Jeannie had stopped eating after one mouthful and Beth took Jeannie’s spoon and offered her some stew. Jeannie opened her mouth, leaned forward and cleaned off the spoon.

  “Beth?” Jeannie said, as soon as she could speak around the food.

  “What?”

  Jeannie leaned closer to whisper to Beth. “He’s not like the man.”

  “Hush. Eat your supper.”

  This time Logan let his gaze roam from one child to another, then to Sadie. When he saw the uncertainty in her eyes, he turned back to Jeannie. “What man is that, little one?”

  Beth pressed a restraining hand to Jeannie’s arm. “Don’t talk. Just eat your meal.”

  Jeannie studied her sister for a moment, then nodded and concentrated on her food. But every few seconds her gaze would jerk to Logan. As soon as she saw he watched her, she quickly ducked her head.

  There were far too many mysteries surrounding this family. Logan would begin looking for their father tomorrow morning and allow the man to answer the questions racing through his mind.

  They finished the stew and Sadie cut the remaining cake to give everyone a piece.

  Jeannie had two mouthfuls left when she started to whimper.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Sadie asked.

  The child’s whimpers turned to wails.

  Beth rose. “I’m sorry. She’s tired.”

  Logan rose, too. “Do you want me to carry you to the bedroom?” He reached for her. Her wails turned to screams and he backed away. “I’m sorry. I should have thought.” Of course she was frightened. He was a stranger.

  Beth scooped her up and took her away, closing the bedroom door behind them. She could be heard murmuring softly to the distraught child.

  “She always does this,” Sammy said. “Ma used to say she ran out of sweet before she ran out of day.”

  The crying moderated and, after a few minutes, ended. Beth sang a soothing song. Logan couldn’t make out the words.

  Sadie rose and began to clean up the kitchen.

  Logan looked about. Should he go or should he stay? Was he welcome? Or was he part of the problem? He didn’t know and wasn’t about to ask. Instead, he followed his instincts and carried a stack of dishes to the dishpan and filled it with hot water.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Sadie protested.

  “I know I don’t, but my ma taught me to do my share.”

  She put away the butter. “I can’t see the men doing dishes on a busy ranch. Don’t they rush in to eat and leave again as soon as the food is gone?”

  Sammy carried the cups they’d used for water and stopped halfway to the cupboard to watch and listen.

  Logan grinned at him. “Hey, us men can do dishes as well as we can rope a cow. Right, partner?”

  Sammy gave Logan a look of disgust. “Dishes is women’s work. And the sooner they learn that the better for ’em.” He put the cups down and whacked one fist into the other palm.

  A chill ran up Logan’s spine. “That what your pa says?” He kept his voice gentle in the hopes of getting some information from the boy.

  Sammy shrugged. “Nah. Not my pa. Someone else.”

  “Well, let me tell you. That someone else is wrong. Very, very wrong. There is nothing wrong with men helping with dishes or sweeping the floor or anything like that. It’s true what Miss Sadie says. Sometimes the men are too busy to take time for household chores, but when my little sister was born, my pa did all those things for my ma. He said she deserved a rest. And my grandfather took care of my grandmother and did all those things when she was ill. You ever see my pa and grandfather?” He didn’t wait for Sammy to answer. “They are big men.” He flexed his muscles to indicate both size and strength. “No one would call them sissies.” He gave Sammy a mock scowl meant to make the boy realize men could be men and still do dishes.

  Sammy looked him up and down twice. “Are they as big as you?”

  Logan would not expand his chest as Sammy had earlier, but he couldn’t keep from glancing at Sadie to see her reaction and barely managed not to stare as she grinned at him.

  “All the Marshall men are big and blond,” she told Sammy.

  “And they do dishes?”

  “I’ll tell you a secret.” Logan leaned over and crooked his finger to bring Sammy closer so he could whisper in his ear, though he didn’t speak too softly for Sadie to hear. “My brother Dawson just got married and he said doing dishes with his new wife is the best part of the day.”

  “No!” Sammy’s look dared him to say it was the truth.

  “Yup. He says it makes his wife so grateful she kisses him right then and there.”

  “Yuck. Sure hope nobody’s going to kiss me if I help with dishes.”

  Logan and Sadie looked at each other and laughed. He couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in her eyes. Was she thinking doing dishes together would be special?

  He slammed a fist into his thoughts. Of course she didn’t, and neither did he.

  Again remembering Sammy’s sore back, Logan squeezed the boy’s arm. “I can’t promise someone won’t want to kiss you but probably not until you’re a lot older and then you won’t mind.”

  He backed away. “Ain’t no one gonna kiss me.”

  Logan grinned, knowing Sammy’s attitude would change soon enough. “Come on. Let’s be brave men. I’ll wash. You dry.” He handed Sammy a towel.

  “What’s Miss Sadie going to do?”

  “I’ll put things away and wash the table.”

  “Okay.”

  At the reluctance dragging the word out, Logan glanced again at Sadie and, when their eyes met, he saw a reflection of his amusement and they grinned at each other. Her smile slowly disappeared but their look held. The moment was fragile with possibility. His heart lurched sideways.

  She blinked rapidly and spun away to scrub the table until it could well bleed if it had any life in it.

  He brought his attention back to the basin of hot water and the dirty dishes, telling himself he had imagined the sensation that she’d seen deep into his soul. But something had happened and he was at a loss to understand what.

  Beth tiptoed from the bedroom just as Sammy dried the last pot. “I’m so sorry, but Jeannie wouldn’t let me go until she fell asleep.”

  Sadie gave the girl a sideways squeeze. “I’m glad you were there to comfort her. It must be scary to have your father disappear and then be moved.”

  Beth didn’t say anything but slipped from under Sadie’s arm.

  Logan couldn’t miss the disappointment in Sadie’s face. He’d have to reassure her that it would take time to win their trust.

  “Sammy, let’s fill the wood box.” Sammy trotted after him. As Logan chopped wood, Sammy gathered it up and carried it inside.

  Logan returned indoors and looked around. Everything was in order. The children fit into these rooms with ease, and Sadie appeared to have everything under control.

  His sense of peace exploded as screams came from the bedroom. He rushed to the door, as did everyone else. They crowded through. He looked around and saw nothing amiss except Jeannie sitting in the middle of the bed, her mouth open as she wailed, tears washing her face.

  “Mama. Mama,” she gasped.

  Beth sank to the edge of the bed and pulled her little sister onto her lap. “Hush, baby, hush.”

  Jeannie clung to Beth’s neck. The high-pitched crying softened to shuddering sobs. Finally, Jeannie sniffed. She wiped her eyes and stared at Logan. “Papa?”
>
  Beth shifted the youngster to her other shoulder. “It’s not Papa.”

  Jeannie leaned around Beth to stare at Logan. Even in the dim light of the room darkened by heavy drapes, Logan could see how her eyes widened. His heart went out to this poor child. He lifted a hand, thinking to brush it over her hair, then, remembering how wary the children were of being touched, he lowered his arm to his side, at a loss to know what to say or do.

  Jeannie struggled free of Beth’s grasp and made her way around the bed to stand in front of Logan. “Papa.” She said the word with such conviction that Logan knew her sleep-drowsy mind had convinced her that her papa had returned. He could not disappoint the child even though she would soon realize he wasn’t their father.

  He picked up Jeannie.

  With a deep sigh, Jeannie rested her head against his neck, her comfort rag clutched in one hand. Her warm breath tickled his skin and he breathed in the scent of little girl. Something that he would have denied if asked stirred within him. Would he ever have a child of his own? He pushed aside the question and, following his earlier instincts, brushed his hand over her head, her hair soft as a downy chick. His eyes grew surprisingly hot.

  Beth and Sadie stood before him. Beth’s hands curled into fists. Her lips drew into a thin line and her eyes were hard as river rock.

  Sadie’s eyes revealed little in the low light, but her lips curved upward.

  He met her gaze and felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach that he was at a loss to understand. Except it seemed she approved. Of what? The way Jeannie had come to him thinking he was her pa? Or did she like seeing him hold a little girl?

  “She’s asleep again. I’ll take her.” Beth’s tone made it clear she didn’t approve of this contact between Logan and her little sister.

  He slipped the child into her sister’s arms and stood by as Beth put her back to bed. He was ready to take Jeannie again, should she want it. But Jeannie curled on her side, her rag pulled to her chest, and slept.

  They tiptoed from the room.