The man rocked back on his heels. “I won’t be needing your help after all. The situation’s changed.”
Dani stiffened. “How so?”
“Scott’s located another relative, a great-aunt in Minnesota.”
He told her about Harriet Lange’s offer to take Emma, his concern about the woman’s finances and his offer to provide a monthly allowance if she’d take all three girls. Dani searched her memory, but Patrick had written nothing about the girls’ grandparents or cousins. She had asked about Elizabeth’s family, but he’d ignored her question. She’d figured his first marriage was too personal to share in writing and hadn’t pushed.
Beau Morgan shifted his weight. His gun belt creaked. “If things go as I expect, the girls will be leaving for Minnesota in a week or two.”
“You can’t do that!” Dani cried.
“Yes, I can.”
“But this is their home!”
He said nothing.
She gestured to the town. “The girls have friends here, people who know them.”
“It’s for the best.”
“Who says?”
“I do.” He sounded kind. The tone threw Dani off balance, so did the regret in his eyes. “If I could, I’d bring Patrick back to life. I’d do a lot of things, Miss Baxter. But I don’t have that power. If Harriet Lange’s willing to raise my nieces, I’m going to let her.”
Dani felt close to panic. “Let me do it.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
His brow furrowed with impatience. “Where would you live?”
“On the farm, of course.”
“I mean no disrespect, Miss Baxter. But do you have any idea how much work it is to run a dairy?”
If a man could be judged by his hands, so could a woman. Dani tugged off her gloves a finger at a time. She put them in her pocket, then held out her hands palm up. “What do you see, Mr. Morgan?”
His eyes softened. “Calluses.”
“What else?”
“You’ve got long fingers.”
“Would you care to guess how many times I’ve milked a cow?”
“Quite a few.”
Dani lowered her hands. “My father owned the biggest dairy in Walker County. He grew it from five cows to fifty. I know the business and I’m not afraid of hard work. We’d have to hire help for the busy times, but—”
“No.”
Her words came faster. “Did you see the lumber by the barn?”
“What about it?”
“It’s for a silo. My father built one six years ago. It’ll hold enough feed for the entire winter. I sent Patrick the plans before I left.”
He spread his boots in the dirt and crossed his arms. “That’s all well and good, but—”
“The cows should have been bred a few weeks ago. Did you check his records?”
He stared in disbelief.
Dani had no time to be shy about nature’s ways. “If a bull didn’t visit, we’re in trouble. Without calves, the cows won’t have milk.”
Mr. Morgan looked amused. “Is that a fact?”
“Of course.” Dani didn’t see the humor. “A second cheese factory is opening. Have you gotten prices?”
He said nothing.
“Denver’s booming. With a daily train, we can sell twice as much dairy as we do now.” Dani saw boundless opportunity, but Beau Morgan looked like a man with a headache.
He put his hands on his hips. “You’re obviously knowledgeable, Miss Baxter. But my answer is still no.”
“Why?”
“Who’s going to do the heavy lifting?”
“I’ll do what has to be done.”
“That’s foolish.”
She wanted to quote Proverbs, the verses about the woman who bought land and sold it, fed her family and worked tirelessly into the night, but Beau Morgan had made it clear that he didn’t feel close to God. Quoting scripture would serve no purpose, but neither would she apologize for telling the truth. After years in the dairy business, she knew how to bargain.
“I’ll make you a deal, Mr. Morgan.”
“What’s that?”
“The way I see it, you have a problem. You have three little girls in your care, and you don’t know the first thing about children.”
“That’s true.”
“You’re an honorable man. You want to provide for their future.”
“Right again.”
Dani’s heart pounded. “The problem is your demeanor. You showed up looking like a grizzly bear, then you scared the daylights out of them by sitting on the porch with your guns. They don’t like you, but they like me.”
“What’s your point?”
“I know I can run a dairy farm. Give me two weeks. If you’re not convinced that it’s best for the girls to stay with me in Castle Rock, I’ll take them to Minnesota myself.”
Beau Morgan shook his head. “I can’t allow it.”
“Why not?”
“Like I said, the girls will get attached to you.”
“They already are.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, a sign of frustration.
Dani decided to press. “I know my way around a kitchen, Mr. Morgan. Just think…fried chicken and biscuits as light as air.”
He glared at her. “That’s not fair.”
“I thought you said Emma was a good cook.” Dani knew from the child’s letters that her biscuits were rock hard. Even Patrick had complained. Emma tries, but she doesn’t have a knack for cooking.
Beau’s grimace showed he held the same opinion, but his eyes twinkled. “I lied and you know it.”
She smiled. “There’s a peach tree on the side of the house. Do you like cobbler, Mr. Morgan?”
He looked ravenous but said nothing.
“How about peach jam?”
Laughing out loud, he pushed back his hat. The shadow dividing his face disappeared, leaving only light. “You win. But on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I like raspberry pie.”
Dani thought of Adie’s story about Beau’s last meal in Denver. “I’d be glad to make it for you.”
“In that case, we have a deal. You have two weeks to prove yourself and my word that I’ll be fair.”
“I never doubted that you would be.”
Dani held out her hand. Beau glanced down, then gripped her fingers, engulfing them in his. The handshake sealed the deal, but the future was far from certain. She didn’t doubt Beau’s integrity or her ability to run the farm, but today had taught Dani a lesson. Anything could happen to anyone at any time.
She looked into Beau’s eyes and saw the same uncertainty. Earlier Dani had prayed for God to make her path straight. For reasons she didn’t understand, that path now involved this hard, troubled man. She didn’t understand why. She only knew she liked him. He cared about his nieces. He worked hard. A long time ago, he’d loved his wife with the devotion commanded by God. As for Clay Johnson and Beau’s search for justice, Dani prayed he’d find peace.
He broke off the handshake and stepped back. “It’s time to go, Miss Baxter.
“Please, call me Dani.”
His eyes darkened. “We’re not friends. We’re business partners.”
“Whatever you’d like,” she replied gently. “I was thinking of the girls. They might like you better if you seem less…distant.”
“I like distance.” He jerked his chin toward the gate.
“Let’s go.”
With the lily in hand, Dani brushed by him. She caught a whiff of shaving soap and thought about the odd way of appearances. Beau Morgan had cleaned up on the outside, but his soul was still full of grit. She didn’t care for his bad manners, but she could tolerate them. As long as he gave her a chance to prove herself, she’d could put up with just about anything.
As they left the cemetery, Beau called himself a fool. Raspberry pie? What had he been thinking? No good could come from letting Dani Baxter stay at the farm. He didn�
��t believe for a minute she could handle the cows and the crops alone, but he couldn’t back out now. When they reached the parsonage, he caught a whiff of pot roast, thought about fried chicken and scolded himself for thinking with his belly instead of his brain.
Adie met them on the steps. “You’re staying for supper, aren’t you?”
“Yes, thank you,” Dani answered.
Almost drooling, Beau followed the women like a hungry puppy and took a seat at the maple table he remembered from Denver. His nieces filled the chairs at his sides, Josh sat at the head, and Dani sat across from him and near Adie and the kitchen. It was the most company he’d had in a long time. To his embarrassment, he became the guest of honor.
Your Uncle Beau caught a bank robber.
Your Uncle Beau helped us build our church.
The chatter lasted through supper and into dessert. With his plate clean and his coffee cup empty, Beau felt both satisfied and empty. Esther slid out of her chair and climbed on Dani’s lap. Ellie smiled at him. Even Emma seemed at ease. If it hadn’t been for Clay Johnson, this would have been his life. He and Lucy would have raised a family.
Beau drained the last of his coffee, a brew far better than the muck at the saloon, then set down the cup. His gaze landed on Dani with Esther wiggling in her lap. Like himself, she looked wistful. Clay Johnson had robbed Beau of a family. A lightning bolt had robbed Dani of the same pleasure. God, it seemed, had turned His back on them both.
Seething inside, Beau pushed to his feet. “It’s time to go. The cows won’t wait.”
“Of course,” Dani said.
Esther jumped down from her lap. “We have to say goodbye to the kittens.”
Beau opened his mouth to say no, but Adie took the child’s hand. “Let’s go, girls. I have something special for you.”
Dani stood. “I’ll start the dishes.”
“No, you won’t.” Josh had used his preaching voice, the one that boomed. “You’ve got enough to do with those girls. I’ll give Adie a hand.”
Beau grinned. He couldn’t help it. He remembered Josh and Adie teasing each other in the kitchen during a church potluck. Every bachelor had been envious. That night, Beau had decided to marry Lucy. Before his gaze could slide to Dani, he turned his back and walked into the front room where he saw a stone hearth. Tonight Josh would build a fire. Adie would sew and he’d read his Bible.
Beau had spent a thousand nights under open sky, sitting by fires he’d built for himself and no one else. He craved that solitude now, but he had four females in his care and a pasture full of cows who’d be bawling up a storm if they didn’t get home soon. Dani had passed him and was putting on her hat. He turned to tell her to hurry up but stopped without saying a word.
She’d bent her neck and raised her arms to stick in a pin. Tendrils of blond hair fell across her nape, brushing the collar of her pink dress. Beau couldn’t stand the sight of her, but neither could he turn away. How long had it been since he’d seen a woman put on a hat? How long would it be before it happened again? Weeks, months, maybe years…whatever it took to bring Johnson to justice. Never mind the lonely ache in his chest. He owed it to Lucy to hunt down the man who’d robbed them of a future. God had blinked that day, but Beau had seen every drop of her blood. He wanted vengeance, no matter the cost.
Daniela Baxter was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He made his voice hard. “Are you ready?”
“I am now,” she replied.
Beau strode forward. Josh cut in front of him and opened the door, motioning her to pass as if she were a queen. When she smiled her thanks, Beau wanted to slug Josh. His reaction made no sense. Josh had been raised in Boston, the son of a shipping tycoon, and he had the manners to prove it. He was also a minister, a shepherd guiding a lost lamb.
Why hadn’t God provided that protection for Lucy? Seeing Josh and Adie, sharing a meal, Dani and her hat…Beau couldn’t take the reminders of what he’d lost. He wanted to get home, milk the blasted cows and sit alone in the dark. Pulling his hat low, he followed Dani to the wagon where Adie and the girls were huddled at the tailgate.
Beau smelled trouble. He’d have gone for his gun, but the suspects were three little girls and a preacher’s wife. Striding forward, he tried to sound casual. “What are you ladies looking at?”
Emma hunched over something in her arms. Ellie gave him a pleading look. Esther was bouncing on her feet like a rabbit thumping its back leg. He looked to Dani for an explanation and saw a chin as hard as his own.
“Miss Adie gave the girls a kitten,” she said. “Isn’t that nice?”
Beau couldn’t believe his ears. What was the woman thinking? As soon as he could make arrangements, the girls would be headed to Minnesota. What if Harriet Lange didn’t like cats? What if she was allergic? If she didn’t take the girls, he’d be sending them to school. They’d suffer another heartbreak, one that could have been avoided.
Beau glared at Adie. “You should have asked me.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But it’s done now.”
Emma straightened her shoulders, revealing a black-and-white kitten with blue eyes and a pink tongue. It yawned, then snuggled in the crook of her elbow. As hard as he’d become, even Beau couldn’t tell the girls to give the cat back. Feeling like a fool, he worried about where the kitten would sleep. Tonight the little fellow would cry for his mama and brothers.
Dani scratched the kitten’s neck. “A boy or a girl?”
“A boy,” said Adie.
“He’ll be a fine mouser,” Josh added.
The kitten stretched, revealing three white paws and one black one. He looked as if he’d lost a shoe.
Beau gave up. “We best get going.”
After hugs and promises for Sunday, the girls scrambled into the wagon. Beau closed the tailgate, then approached Dani and Adie who were jabbering like magpies. Beau felt an old stirring. In Denver, Lucy had taken forever to leave church because she’d had so many friends. Beau would stand at her side, grinning like a fool.
Josh shot him a look of male commiseration, but Beau wasn’t grinning now. He cleared his throat. “Miss Baxter?”
Dani glanced at him. “I’m ready.”
She hugged Adie, then turned to the wagon. Before Josh could step forward, Beau gave her a hand up to the seat. The minister wasn’t the only man with manners. Beau’s just needed a little polishing. He tipped his hat to Adie, shook Josh’s hand and climbed onto the seat. After pulling on his gloves, he took the reins and headed home.
Home.
The word caught in his mind like barbed wire. He didn’t have a home and he didn’t want one. The giggles coming from the bed of the wagon gave him a headache. So did the sun setting over the blue cut of the mountains and the streak of pink in the sky. Dusk usually calmed him. It meant the end of a day, solitude and the peace of sleep. Today the fading sun pressed him to hurry. The cows needed milking. The girls needed their beds.
“Beau?”
Dani’s voice matched the dusk. He hadn’t invited her to use his given name, but it sounded natural.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Supper was nice. When we first met, I didn’t know you were a lawman.”
He grunted. “Josh talks too much.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Dani lace her fingers in her lap. “They like you.”
Beau said nothing. The man they’d known in Denver had died with Lucy.
“I don’t mean to pry.” Her voice dipped low. “But you were good at your work. Do you miss it?”
“I never gave it up.”
“You mean Clay Johnson.”
“And others.” Beau shifted his weight. “Johnson rides in and out of my life. Sometimes I get close and he runs. Sometimes he comes after me, makes a threat and runs again. It can take months to pick up his trail.”
“What do you do in between?”
“I check Wanted posters.”
“How do you choose?” Dani asked.
Mostly Beau got a feeling. “I pick the man with the deadest eyes.”
He heard the soft rush of her breath. “You’re a bounty hunter.”
Beau frowned. “I don’t do it for the money. I do it for—”
“Lucy.”
He doubted his wife would approve. “I was going to say justice.”
Dani stared straight ahead. “The Blues respect you. I want you to know. I do, too.”
A woman’s praise shouldn’t have made Beau square his shoulders, but it did. Aside from earning a living, he found satisfaction in his work. He brought peace to widows and orphans. He helped people who couldn’t help themselves. Most of the time, he felt content with his cause, but tonight he missed the things he’d given up.
With dusk settling, he wished he’d never set eyes on Daniela Baxter and her pink dress, his nieces with their blond hair, even the kitten. Parted from its mother and brothers, the poor thing was meowing its heart out. Beau knew how it felt. If the girls weren’t careful, it would bite and scratch out of frustration.
Emma’s voice carried over the rattle of the wagon. “We have to decide on a name.”
“I like Fluffy,” said Esther.
Beau winced. No male deserved a handle like Fluffy. He felt offended on the cat’s behalf but didn’t say anything.
“He’s a boy,” Ellie said, sounding superior. “Let’s call him Prince.”
Beau clenched his teeth. Prince beat out Fluffy, but not by much. The kitten was destined to lose all dignity.
Dani turned to the girls. “How about Boots?”
It fit, but Beau didn’t like it.
“It’s kind of plain,” Emma said.
The females batted around names, each one as unmanly as the last. After a mile, Beau had heard enough. “Name him Fred.”
“Fred?” The females cried out in a horrified chorus.
“Or Hank or Sam,” he said. “Anything but Fluffy.”
He’d stunned the girls into silence. Beau reveled in the quiet until Esther spoke up. “Uncle Beau?”
Until now, no one had called him by that name. His belly flipped. “What is it?”
“What name do you like?” asked the child.
He thought for a minute. “I’d call him T.C. for Tom Cat.”
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