Ty frowned and slung the boy over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
John hooked his thumbs under his suspenders while the girl climbed from the wagon and limped toward him.What’s wrong with her? Never see’d anyone so awkward walkin’.“You hurt, too, girl?” He turned to Ty. “What happened to make her hitch along like that?”
Robin glared. “You might as well know right from the start, Uncle John—I’m crippled.” She dipped her head for an instant, but when her eyes met his again, there was determination in her gaze. “I’ve walked like this since taking my first steps. If you’d accepted Papa’s numerous invitations to visit Chicago, you’d have known about my infirmity before you wrote that letter.”
“Well, . . . I––” John stepped backward as she stomped toward him.
“Now, you can send me back if you want. I’ll understand.” She limped past him then returned with her hand extended. “Forgive my manners.” She took his hand in both of hers.
Jumpin’ bullfrogs, her hand is soft as a kitten, but she’s spunky as a wildcat.
“I’m Robin, Lionel’s oldest daughter.” She motioned for Ty to follow her.
Ty shrugged and motioned to the boy. “His name is Jacob.” He shifted the child to his other shoulder and followed Robin onto the porch.
Jacob opened one eye and wrinkled his nose as he passed by.
Well, if that wouldn’t kick Granny’s cat. I think the kid wants to play.John tweaked the child’s nose, then held his thumb between two fingers and waggled it. “Lookee here, what I done got.”
Jacob’s blue eyes widened, and a lopsided grin wiggled loose from his clamped lips. He shook his head and covered his face with one hand.
John pointed at the kid’s nose then wiggled the thumb again.
Jacob squirmed higher on Ty’s shoulder. “Huh-unh. See?” He crossed his eyes. “It’s mine.”
John shook his head. “Nope, I got it.”
“Could you give it to me, please?”
Robin turned to face him. “Do you have something of his, sir?”
John stuck his hand behind his back. “Well, not—”
Jacob pointed. “He gots it behind him. Look.”
Robin held out her hand. “Hand it over, whatever it is. The child has already lost so much.” Tears puddled in her eyes. “Please.”
“Now, wait a doggone howdy-do. I don’t have nothin’ of his.”
“Then what do you have behind your back?”
“He’s only a boy.” Ty scowled. “Whatever you have, please give it back to him.”
John stuck his fist in Robin’s face and wiggled his thumb “His nose. I got his nose.” He winced.There’s some things a growed man shouldn’t be caught doin’.
Jacob giggled behind his hands.
Robin rubbed her forehead. “Oh, for—” She shook her head. “I don’t know which one of you is the child. Would you mind giving Jacob his nose so we can get him settled?”
He examined his extended hand, thumb still protruding through the next two fingers.This is plumb foolish. He stepped closer, and in a flash, Jacob reached for John’s nose and pulled. Hard.
“Rosy, posy, I got your nosey.” Jacob clasped his hands. “I have to squish it real hard cuz it’s so big. See?” He smashed his hand against his own face. “There, now I gots your nose on me.”
Tears sprang to John’s eyes and he rubbed his face.Tarnation that hurt!
Ty tapped his foot. “John? Do you mind telling me where you want everyone for the night?”
“Well, there ain’t nobody but me livin’ here, so I reckon most anywhere upstairs would suit. Will need some doin’ up. Sheets on the beds and all. And if you plan on stayin’, you best bed down in the barn, Ty. Wouldn’t do for you to be a sleepin’ upstairs with my niece.”
Robin turned pink as a morning sky.
Jumpin’ bullfrogs. This havin’ a female in the house ain’t gonna be easy.
“I’ve got supplies I need to unload, and I’d like to check for damage at my place. I’ll take Jacob with me and give Robin time to get things ready here.” Ty turned to leave.
“No! Put me down. I don’t wanna go with you.” The boy bucked in Ty’s arms.
“I’ll bring you back, Jacob.” Ty set him on his feet.
The boy gave Ty a shove that sent him reeling backward.
The child hurled himself at John’s legs, and his knees buckled.
“Watch out, kid––” His rear hit the porch floor, and his upper teeth clamped onto his bottom lip.
“Don’t let him take me.” Jacob’s arms encircled John’s neck so tight it hurt, but he wouldn’t mention it. It was the first time a child had ever run into his arms. He’d ignore the fact that his lip throbbed like it had been stepped on and that it would no doubt swell bigger than the nose the kid pretended to pull off.
“Yep, Ty. You shore know how to settle a kid, don’t ya?” He patted the boy’s back, and the kid squeezed even tighter. Much more and he’d be gasping for air. “Don’t worry, little man,” he managed to squawk. “He ain’t takin’ you nowhere.” John stretched his legs, and set the boy on his lap. “I surely do wish you’d give a thought to stayin’ here for a spell. I could use me some help a gatherin’ eggs and haulin’ wood, and things like that. I reckon you’re man enough for a job, don’t you think?”
Jacob swiped a pudgy hand under his nose. “How come my nose is so drippy?”
John scratched his head. “Well, there’s a real good reason for that. That’s my nose on your face. Remember? And it’s tryin’ to run off so it can come to me again.”
Jacob scrunched his hand around his nose then poked a fist in John’s shirt pocket and wiggled his fingers. “There. Now can I havemynose back please?”
John laughed and hugged the boy. His arms had never been so warm or so full. “You surely can, my boy. You surely can.” He wiggled his thumb on Jacob’s face. “Now, I think you need to stay here with me ‘til we can be sure that little thing I gave you is gonna stay on your face.” He winked at Ty.
Jacob grinned. “Do you for real got eggs?”
“Sure do. You like eggs, do ya?”
The boy nodded. “Fried, with the insides all runny. Then Mama lets me sop it up with my bread.” He sniffed and picked at his fingernails.
John held the boy close. He can’t fool an old man. It ain’t a big nose that’s makin’ the little fella’s face drippy. No siree. He’s missin’ his mama for sure. Strange he don’t talk about a pa.
“I’m a little short on bread right now, but I reckon Miss Robin could stir us up some biscuits.” He stood the boy on the floor. “Now, you stay right there while Mr. Morgan helps me up.”
John groaned when Ty pulled him to his feet. “You go on about your business, Ty. I think the kid likes me.”
“Uncle John? Where might I find—”
He turned to Robin. “You’ll find flour in the can behind the blue curtain in the kitchen, and soda’s in the cupboard. Make yourself to home. Me and the boy got eggs to gather.”
###
“Here, don’t want to forget this.” Ty handed Robin the package Emma had sent along. “I’ll be back tomorrow, if that’s okay with you. Looks like John has made a new friend, though I don’t understand why the boy took to him so readily, yet pushes me away.” Ty’s voice held a twinge of awe. Or was it jealousy?
Robin tucked the package under one arm. “Uncle John wasn’t the man who made him leave his mama. If he stays long enough, I’m sure he’ll learn to trust us.” She smiled. “If Emma were here she’d likely tell you that scowl on your face says you’re worried.”
Ty wiped his hand across his forehead. “Sure hope his pa isn’t injured and lying out there waiting for help. I’ll go on to my place. Maybe my men have seen someone. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Robin waited until he was no longer in sight then stepped into the kitchen. A large round oak table occupied the middle of the spacious room, and a line of cupboards occupied the wall to t
he left of the door. White curtains billowed in the breeze blowing through the open window above the sink, and open shelves flanked either side. The work surface of the lower cupboards was oak, worn smooth, doubtless from years of wear. The curtains covering the shelves below were—Robin shook her head—blue.Well, Uncle John. I’m sure the flour is here somewhere, I just have to find behind which blue curtain you meant.
She hung her bonnet on a hook beside the door then searched until she found the flour. By the time she’d found the ingredients and a bowl to mix them in, Jacob had returned with eggs cradled in his shirt pulled above his waist.
“We got lots of ‘em, Miss Robin. See?” He counted six eggs and laid them on the counter. “Will you fry ‘em?”
“I will. Thank you.” She peered around the boy. “Where’s Uncle John?”
Jacob shrugged and plunked down in a chair at the table. “Can I watch you fry ‘em?”
“You may. But we’d better wait for Mr. Wenghold. Why didn’t he come in with you?”
Jacob scratched his head. “He said he had some business to tend to. That’s all I know.”
“Well, I imagine he’ll be in before long. You go wash your hands, please, then you can set the plates on the table for me.” Robin measured the ingredients for the biscuits.
Jacob followed instructions, then sat at the table and rested his head on his arms.
“You’re tired, aren’t you? As soon as Uncle John comes in I’ll pop these in the oven.” The heat from the big cookstove was stifling. She’d need to remember to do her baking in the morning instead of so late in the day. That is, if Uncle John let her stay. Surely he wouldn’t turn the boy out, would he? “Jacob, was my uncle with you when you came from the chicken coop?”
He propped his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. “No, ma’am. He already left to do something different.”
“Did you remember to latch the door?” As a child she’d failed to shut the gate to the chicken coop and, consequently, chased chickens all through their neighborhood, much to the dismay of their uppity neighbors.
“I don’t remember. Should I check?”
“That would be good. You should always remember to latch doors behind you so wild animals won’t get into the buildings.”
A few minutes later, Jacob returned, puffing. “I runned real fast and did what you said. I latched every single door I found.” He settled back in his chair and swung his legs. “Can we eat yet?”
“May we eat?”
Jacob cocked his head, a frown deep between his big green eyes. “I just asked you that.”
“I know. I was correcting you.Mayis the correct way to ask that question. Notcan. Did you see Mr. Wenghold when you went outdoors?”
“Did I see him?” He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I didn’t see him.”
Robin busied herself looking through cupboards. It would take some time to learn what supplies Uncle John had on hand and what she would need to purchase on the next trip to Cedar Bluff. When the sun slipped below the trees that shaded the west side of the house, she lit a lamp and tried to still her imagination. If only she had checked on her uncle sooner.What if he’s hurt? How would I get help?
Jacob was sound asleep at the table with his head on his arms. She moved the braided rug from in front of the sink, then gathered him in her arms and laid him atop of it so he wouldn’t fall. He tucked one hand under his cheek and drew his knees closer to his chest, but didn’t awaken. She patted his shoulder, then straightened and let herself out the back door. Uncle John had to be found.
If only she knew where to start searching. She gathered a handful of skirt and headed down a well-worn path through the grass. Intent on the lookout for snakes, she jumped when a loud voice broke her concentration.
“Hey! You let me out of here, you scamp.”
She stopped, lifted her head, and her gaze rested on the weathered outhouse beneath the trees. She shook her head. Surely not. “Uncle John?” How in the world did he manage to lock himself inside the outhouse?
“That you, Robin? Get me out of here, and you best be tellin’ that scalawag to head for the timber.”
Robin hesitated. It didn’t seem proper for her to hold a conversation with a man outside a place like this. “He said he didn’t know where you were. Have you been here long?”
“Let me out. I ain’t gonna keep shoutin’ through this door.”
Robin unlatched the door and stepped back as her uncle roared out of the small building. “How . . .”
“What do you mean—how?” Uncle John stabbed the air with his glasses. “That devil-child did it, that’s how.”
“When he came back with the eggs he said you told him you had some––”
“Did you think I was gonna spell it out for him? A man’s got a right to some privacy, you know.”
“Of course, I know. But how did you get locked in?”
Uncle John dug a red bandana from his pocket and cleaned his glasses with a vengeance. “He came a hollerin’ for me, and I answered him. Then the kid latched the door, that’s how. Said you told him to make sure all the doors was hooked so no wild animal could get in.”
“Yes, I did tell him that, but I . . .”
“Did you think to tell him that if someone was in them buildings he was to leave the doors alone?”
“No, I thought . . .”
“Ya didn’t think at all, girl.” He hooked his glasses behind his ears and jutted his chin. “I yelled at him to get away, but he said he was followin’ orders. You send that kid back out here, and you go on about puttin’ some grub on the table.”
“I asked him if he saw you, Uncle John, and he told me he had not.” She tried to hide the smile that wanted to come. “I’m sure he didn’t understand.”
“Well, I’ll give him that much. He didn’t see me because the door was shut. Send him out.”
“He’s sleeping, and you’re angry. I won’t have you hurting the boy.”
“Him and me have some talkin’ to do out behind the barn. That’s all.”
Their conversation was interrupted when a lone horse and rider thundered from the shadows beyond the timber. Ty. He reined to a halt, and the horse slid in the still muddy ground. “Where’s Jacob?”
“What you doing back already, Ty? Got a lot of damage, do ya?” John patted the horse’s neck. “Got this creature plumb lathered, son.”
Ty dismounted. “Sorry to sound abrupt, John.” He turned to Robin. “Where’s the boy?”
“He’s asleep in the kitchen.”
Ty handed the reins to John. “Mind if I put my horse in your barn, John? I’ll take care of him after I’ve had a chance to visit with the two of you.”
“I’ll take care of the horse. You see that Robin gets back to the house without stumblin’ in the dark. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, the Feather has never been ruffled like this before. What I wouldn’t give for a little peace and quiet again.”
A knot gathered in Robin’s stomach as Ty joined her. He hadn’t planned to come until morning. Was there news of Jacob’s pa?
Ty took her arm. “John seems a bit irritated. Is there trouble?”
“Jacob locked him in the necessary. He’s quite angry. Before you rode in, he threatened to take the boy behind the barn to have atalk.”
Ty chuckled. “Any other time I’d side with your uncle. But I think we might have a bigger problem.” He helped her onto the porch and patted the space beside him as he sat in the swing.
“Was it bad at your place?” She reached for the rope to let herself down easy.
“About like here. Shingles from the barn scattered across the prairie, and one building lost part of its roof, but no one hurt. The fellas checked the line shacks this morning, and all were accounted for—men and animals alike. But there was one bit of disturbing news.”
“And it concerns Jacob?” Robin’s stomach fluttered, and she used her good foot to still the sway of the swing.
“I don’t know. It migh
t. Rusty, my foreman, said a stranger rode in a little ahead of the storm. He asked how far it was to town and if they knew of anyone needing a hand.”
“Did he say anything about a wife or child?
Ty put his arm across the back of the swing and shook his head. “He said the man never let on like there was anyone but him, but he seemed real agitated. Rusty told him how to get to Cedar Bluff and warned him about the storm. He offered to give him shelter in the root cellar and told him he could wait until I got home to see about working, but he mumbled something about not being a snake or a beggar and rode off to the north.”
“Do you think there’s some connection? What if Jacob is lying about not having a pa? Did the man look mean? Maybe that’s why Jacob seems to be afraid of you.” Robin turned to face him. “What shall we do?”
“That’s a lot of questions to answer, Miss Wenghold. I don’t think we should do anything until we pray.”
Robin shook her head. “You go ahead.” She fiddled with a loose thread on her cuff. When she raised her head she met his gaze. “You’re staring, Mr. Morgan. I get most uncomfortable when someone stares at me.”
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. By staring. Or by suggesting we pray."
He sat so close his breath tickled her ear.
“Just so you know . . . I believe thereis a God, Mr. Morgan. But I think He’s tired of me asking Him the same questions over and over again. I’m not sure He even hears me when I pray. He never answers.”
“Oh, Robin . . .” Ty leaned closer. “God never tires of His children talking to Him, and He always listens. But sometimes, for our own good, He doesn’t grant us the answer we want.”
Robin bristled. “Oh really, Mr. Morgan? It wouldn’t have been for my good to be born with two good legs? And what about that little boy? Don’t you believe his poor mama prayed when that storm bore down on them?”
Ty moved to the wicker chair and reached for her hands, stilling the swing. “I can’t give you an answer why God chose to allow you to be born with a bad leg. And for the life of me, I’ll never have the answer why He would allow a little child to lose his mama right before his eyes. But I will say the storm keeping us in Cedar Bluff for the night probably saved Jacob’s life. Who would have heard his cry if we hadn’t stopped for that short time?” He ran a hand over his face. “You might not think God is listening, or that He cares, but He does.”
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