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Montana Cowboy Family
Linda Ford


Temporary FamilyAfter discovering one of her young students has been abandoned—along with his sisters—schoolteacher Sadie Young whisks them away to the safest place she knows…her own home. And when handsome cowboy Logan Marshal vows to assist her in caring for the children, she isn’t sure she wants his help…but she needs it. If she lets Logan get too close, though, he may discover the secret she’s convinced will be her ruin.Logan Marshall isn’t looking for a family. But with the parentless children and their unflappable teacher tugging at his heart, it appears he has one—at least temporarily. The kids would like nothing better than to have a real mother and father, and with Logan slowly falling for Sadie, their deepest wishes might just come true…







Temporary Family

After discovering one of her young students has been abandoned along with his sisters, schoolteacher Sadie Young whisks them away to the safest place she knows—her own home. And when handsome cowboy Logan Marshal vows to assist her in caring for the children, she isn’t sure she wants his help...but she needs it. If she lets Logan get too close, though, he may discover the secret she’s convinced will be her ruin.

Logan Marshall isn’t looking for a family. But with the parentless children and their unflappable teacher tugging at his heart, it appears he has one—at least temporarily. The kids would like nothing better than to have a real mother and father, and with Logan slowly falling for Sadie, their deepest wishes just might come true...


“These children have been through so much. I wish I could track down the father and get things sorted out for them. They deserve to know where they belong.”

“And feel safe,” Sadie added.

“Agreed.” Logan’s gaze caught hers and held it so firmly she couldn’t look away. At the way he regarded her, the strength and goodness she saw in him and knew existed, her heart lifted. He lifted a hand to her cheek and brushed his fingers along the side of her face. “We will work together to make sure these children are safe.”

She leaned into his hand. Beth’s words reverberated inside her head. Too soon. Slowly she turned her head, forcing him to pull his hand back even though it was the hardest thing she had done in some time.

Not only was it too soon to think about opening up her heart to him.

It would always be too soon.


Dear Reader (#ua39c284a-0d58-5692-b634-2d78695d4abd),

I once had someone look about at all the happy people surrounding him and comment that they must surely not have the same degree of sadness, problems and disappointments that his life had. But it isn’t so. Everyone has their share of problems and pain. It might be the death of a loved one or a crippling injury. In Sadie and Logan’s story, there are a number of hurtful, damaging events to deal with. I like to think they faced these things with honor, courage and dignity. I like to think they found God’s grace to be sufficient. I pray the same for those of you who have dreadful things to deal with.

You can learn more about my upcoming books and how to contact me at www.lindaford.org (http://www.lindaford.org). I love to hear from my readers.

Blessings,







LINDA FORD lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, near enough to the Rocky Mountains that she can enjoy them on a daily basis. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids, and assorted friends and relatives.


Montana Cowboy Family

Linda Ford






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.

—Proverbs 2:6 (NIV)


I dedicate this book to my dear friend Brenda, who daily faces difficult things but does so with unfailing dignity and grace. She’d be the first one to say it’s because of God’s sufficiency and her dependence on Him.


Contents

Cover (#u6150c339-add5-511e-9ec7-7f2dcd0f3752)

Back Cover Text (#ubb4ab1aa-9fe0-5d3c-a1f4-8d4b46c0a5c9)

Introduction (#u4a416387-cf43-58f0-9cac-0bdf94d210a1)

Dear Reader (#u114c124e-4300-5ccc-888f-770261e14504)

About the Author (#uec0c1805-e77c-596d-97a4-bcd35901b1bf)

Title Page (#u9862788c-3047-5da4-b37f-ab8f86297e8e)

Bible Verse (#u2c55efb2-73ff-5cf9-9625-b5352b724b62)

Dedication (#u30210207-d97f-5b84-8d25-6371b97c8ec7)

Chapter One (#uf4f3ae7e-688b-594d-b275-1ae8fc405b0f)

Chapter Two (#u37d502cb-53d3-5d8e-809b-f570bb8a38ff)

Chapter Three (#ub2879e79-038a-5bb4-b8e6-4e22bff731bf)

Chapter Four (#u0097f3d1-6ebc-5521-a4ca-dc034ac3ea3a)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ua39c284a-0d58-5692-b634-2d78695d4abd)

Bella Creek, Montana, 1890

Logan Marshall stared at the place where he’d left his lunch. The sack was gone. The second day in a row. Stolen. The muscles in his jaw bunched. Nothing bothered him worse than any form of dishonesty. His stomach rumbled. How could he work without food to fuel his strength? And Grandfather would expect Logan to be working. The school wasn’t finished. As a Marshall and grandson of the founder of Bella Creek, Logan had to do his share and had been assigned the task of rebuilding the schoolhouse. It, along with all the buildings in that block, had burned to the ground during the winter.

Following the fire, the doctor and teacher had left, requiring the town and the Marshalls to find replacements. The doctor’s residence and office had been rebuilt already and Logan glanced at the new building next door where Dr. Baker and his daughter, Kate, lived and worked. Kate had brought her friend, Isabelle Redfield, with her, and Isabelle had since married Logan’s brother, Dawson.

He shifted his attention across the street to his uncle’s mercantile store. The new teacher, Sadie Young, presently held classes in the back room of the store, but every day she crossed to her living quarters in the rear of the schoolhouse. Grandfather had decided her rooms should be finished before completing the classroom, saying it wasn’t suitable for her to continue living in the hotel.

Daily, as she made her way from the store, she stopped to see how much progress had been made on the rebuilding. He understood she was in a hurry to have her students moved into the school, but he couldn’t rush the work if he wanted it done right.

Besides those daily visits, he’d met her several times since she had come to Bella Creek with the others. Sadie Young was about his age with brown hair, a perfect oval face, hazel eyes like late-summer leaves, and healthy-looking skin. Not a bad-looking woman, but she was so shy he wondered how she managed to teach. Something about her shyness triggered a protective note in him, which he managed to quell.

He wasn’t interested in her for any reason. He might be only twenty-two, but he had learned enough lessons about women to last a lifetime and to make him completely wary of them. He rocked his head back and forth. Once he’d been enamored of a woman he considered to be ideal. She’d seemed so sweet and innocent. He’d been shocked to learn she had questionable morals. She’d teased him into following her to the nearby rough town of Wolf Hollow, where he’d thought he could protect her, but he ended up trapped by his shame and her continued deceit. Learning that his ma lay on her deathbed had brought him home, and he’d promised Ma he’d never fall into such a trap again. Later, after Ma’s death, when Logan was what he considered to be a mature eighteen-year-old, he met a woman and her daughter when they moved into the boardinghouse. The girl seemed like a gentle young lady. She went to church with him and attended the family dinners. But it turned out she was part of a gang and was setting up a robbery. Worse, even, she was married to one of the robbers.

He figured it would take a lot for him to ever again trust a woman. Even more for him to trust his own judgment.

His experience was enough to make him look at Miss Young with a certain guardedness. But never mind Miss Young. Logan had to find his lunch before the thief ate it all. He eased around the schoolhouse, eyes sweeping the area for clues. A flash of material behind the stack of lumber at the back of the lot caught his attention. He eased forward. What kind of robber stopped so close to the scene of his crime?

He edged around the corner of the lumber pile, his muscles tensed to spring forward, but at the sight of a little boy opening up Logan’s lunch sack, he ground to a halt, his anger completely gone. This was one of Miss Young’s students. What was the child doing over here when he should be in the classroom with the other children?

The boy looked up, saw that he was discovered and stuffed the sack behind his back. He considered Logan with wide brown eyes, doing his best to look innocent.

Logan took a moment studying the boy. He had on overalls so thin you could spit through them. There was a button missing on his shirt. His dark blond hair was in sore need of a cut. Logan didn’t recognize the child. There must be a new family in the area he hadn’t heard of.

“I think you have my lunch,” he said in a slow, lazy drawl.

The boy’s thin shoulders came forward. He twisted his hands palms upward as if to prove he had nothing.

Was there anything sadder than a hungry boy? His own hunger gnawed at his stomach. He lowered himself to the ground, his back to the lumber. The boy drew his legs closer to his body and watched Logan.

Logan saw how tense the boy was. “What’s your name?”

“Sammy.”

“Got a last name?”

“Sammy Weiss.”

“Howdy. I’m Logan Marshall.” He stretched his legs out. “Guess you’re as hungry as me. Think we could share the lunch?”

Sammy waited, and when he realized Logan wasn’t giving up, he pulled the sack from behind him and handed it to Logan, his eyes never leaving the promise of food.

Logan carefully divided the lunch into two portions. The boy’s eyes followed every move of Logan’s fingers. He passed one half of the food to Sammy.

“I like to thank God for my food before I eat.”

Sammy bowed his head, loudly swallowing saliva.

“Thanks for food and sunshine and fresh air and good work. Amen.”

Before Logan could lift his sandwich to his mouth, young Sammy had taken a large bite. He ate like a boy who wondered where he’d find his next meal. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” Logan knew everyone within a forty-mile radius.

Sammy nodded. He pushed his mouthful of food to one cheek. “Been here more’n a week.”

“Where’d you come from afore that?”

“Wolf Hollow.”

That explained his grubby clothes and hunger. The rough mining town to the west had its share of men and women whose dreams of making it rich had been shattered by reality.

“Where are you living?”

Sammy jerked his thumb over his shoulder as if that provided all the information needed.

They ate in silence, Sammy’s full attention on his food while Logan contemplated what to do about the boy.

Sammy finished before Logan, so Logan stuffed what was left back in the sack to eat later and pushed to his feet. “I expect the teacher will have noticed your absence by now.”

They could hear someone approaching. A woman called, “Sammy? Where are you?” The schoolmarm must have realized she was missing one of her students.

Sammy jerked to his feet and flung about, seeking escape.

Logan caught him by the collar, a little disconcerted when the boy shrank back, his eyes blinking at a galloping rate. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to face up to your sins like a man.”

Sammy straightened but his jaw quivered.

Miss Young held up her skirts as she ran around the school building in search of Sammy. She wore a dark gray skirt as plain as unbuttered bread and a white shirtwaist fitted so tightly around her neck it must surely choke her.

At the sight of Sammy in Logan’s grasp, she dropped her skirt and ran her hands over her head to make sure every hair was in place. Logan was pretty sure not one single strand would dare escape.

She spared Logan the briefest of glances and turned her attention to Sammy. “I was concerned about you.”

“I’s okay.”

“Except you’re supposed to be at school with the others.”

“I don’t like school.” Sammy sighed mightily. “But I promised my ma I would go.”

She held a hand out to him. “Then let’s return.”

Sammy ducked away from her offered hand and sauntered across the yard in the general direction of the store.

Miss Young paused to speak to Logan. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She was too shy to even meet his gaze.

“I know you have students to look after at the moment, but when classes are over, you and I need to talk about this.” Like he’d said to Sammy, the boy must take responsibility for his actions. If left unchecked, stealing lunches might escalate into stealing bigger things. Things that would get him jailed or hanged. Best to nip the tendency in the bud.

Miss Young’s gaze jolted to his at those words. “I’ll deal with the boy in school.”

“He stole from me. That makes it my business.”

Her demanding look had likely been perfected with her wayward students, but he’d lived with Pa and Grandfather long enough to endure the most challenging of looks without flinching. Not to mention two older brothers, Dawson and Conner. They were only four and two years older respectively, but not above bossing Logan around. Even his little sister, Annie, who at nineteen ran the house ever since Ma died four years ago, felt she had the right to expect Logan to do as she asked.

Nope. No mousy little schoolmarm had a hope of making him quake in his shoes. He touched the brim of his hat. “Until school is out,” he said, and sauntered away.

* * *

Sadie would have welcomed more time crossing the street and rejoining the classroom. Something about Logan Marshall left her heart fluttering and her breathing so rapid she might have run around the block three times. But she’d left one of the older girls in charge long enough. She’d have to deal with her turmoil of emotions later. She rang the bell and called the children in from their play behind the store. The area was little more than the back alley, but until they moved into the schoolhouse, it sufficed. Lunch time had precipitated Sammy running away. For the fourth day in a row he had forgotten his lunch. She began to think no one prepared one for him. The children made the same conclusion and teased Sammy. Before she could intervene, the boy had gone outside saying he wasn’t hungry. When she’d checked on him, he was gone. The same thing had happened yesterday but, before she could search for him, he had returned, swaggering a little, looking slightly smug. Her warning bells had sounded. This little boy of seven brought out all the protective instincts she possessed, but she wasn’t lulled into believing he wasn’t capable of mischief.

And she was right. He’d stolen from Logan Marshall! What had he taken? And why had he stolen from a Marshall? They ruled the town with unwavering firmness. Sammy’s family had recently moved to Bella Creek, so Sammy might not know that yet. She spared a tight smile, wondering if knowing would make any difference to the boy. He had a certain brashness to him that made her think he often did things he shouldn’t.

The children filed in. She read to them. She assigned lessons and checked answers. She replied when spoken to though, from the questioning looks on several faces, she guessed they had asked their questions more than once. Finally the afternoon classes ended and she dismissed the children with a wave and a wooden smile. Only then did she sink to her chair, plant her elbows on the desktop and bury her face in her hands. She made certain to have a book open in front of her, should anyone step in unannounced. Hopefully, they would think she pored over lesson preparation.

Shudder after shudder raced up and down her spine. She was no longer a naive sixteen-year-old but a wiser, stronger, more careful woman. Still, the thought of facing one of the Marshall men with their broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes filled her with dread.

Big or little, powerful or weak, she simply did not trust men. Not after her father’s business partner had cornered her in her bedroom, tossed her on her bed and done unspeakable things to her.

After he was done, he smiled at her. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

To this day she didn’t know if he’d meant the words seriously or simply mocked her pain. After he’d left she’d curled into a little ball, her pillow clutched to her chest and cried. Her tears were spent, her insides hollow, when her mother came in some time later. She’d confessed it all, hoping for, longing for, comfort. But she’d been instructed to wash her face and come down to dinner even though that man—Walter—would be at the same table.

She’d been told to never mention what had happened. It would ruin her father, would put the family out of business and lastly, as if it mattered least, it would ruin Sadie.

Every time she had to face the man brought a repeat of her pain and fear. After a few weeks she had persuaded Mother to let her go stay with Aunt Sarah, her mother’s younger sister. Sadie had found a degree of comfort there, but her insides remained raw that her family—the very people who should protect her—had turned their backs on her pain and fear.

Time was supposed to heal all wounds and she tried to believe it. She had even allowed herself to be courted by shy, gentle Ronald Wilson. She’d gone so far as to agree to marry him, but as the time for the wedding approached she couldn’t go through with it. She had never told Ronald her reason for breaking it off. Could hardly explain it to herself. Yes, she was afraid of the intimacy of marriage, but it was more than that.

She was soiled. Ruined. Unworthy.

She drew in a long breath and lifted her head. That was in the past. Time healed all wounds, she repeated to herself. Or perhaps time simply allowed a scab to form.

All that mattered now was being a good teacher, showing the children how to succeed in life and protecting them from dangers.

She rose. Her knees shook and she sat down again. She needed some inner strength and knew where to go for it. Since her own Bible was in her new living quarters—two little rooms on the end of the schoolhouse—she reached for the bigger Bible that she kept in the classroom.

She pulled it to her and opened to a verse that had become her strength in the four years since that fateful day. 1 Samuel 30:6 “David was greatly distressed...but David encouraged himself in the Lord his God.”

Her finger trailed along the verse as she offered a silent prayer for help. God, strengthen me and uphold me with Your righteous right hand. Help me be able to speak boldly to Logan. Like she’d said to Isabelle Redfield the first day they arrived, the Marshall men frightened her with their size and self-assurance.

To be honest, she felt something more than guardedness around them. Something more than stiff awkwardness. The Marshalls were the kind of men who held strict standards. She feared that if any of them learned her secret she would be run out of town as a fallen woman. They must never know.

She closed the Bible, tucked in her chin and waited for Logan Marshall to appear.

She didn’t have long to wait. He rapped on the door frame and stood, worn gray cowboy hat in hand, waiting for permission to enter.

Feeling at a disadvantage sitting, she stood and waved him to the nearest chair.

He drew it forward, parked it in front of her desk and plunked down, piercing her through with his blue eyes.

Her knees wobbled and she sat. She lowered her eyes, avoiding his unblinking look, but still managed to study him. He was clean shaven, wore a gray shirt that had a smattering of wood dust on the shoulder and blue jeans that showed wear at the creases at the knees. Her gaze settled on his scuffed cowboy boots. A working man comfortable in his clothing and—she knew as surely as she sucked in her next breath—equally comfortable in his own skin.

She wondered how such confidence felt.

“Sammy stole my lunch. Two days in a row,” he said without any preamble.

Only a lunch? She’d feared something much bigger. “I’m not surprised. He’s forgotten his lunch every day. I’ve begun to think no one prepares one for him.” There were more signs that the boy was neglected and worse, but she didn’t mention them. One thing at a time.

“Whether or not that is so, he can’t go around thieving. It’ll end him in a heap of trouble. He needs to learn a lesson on the evils of dishonesty.” Logan leaned back, one leg propped at an angle over the other.

She tried not to let his posture of power affect her, but it made her spine prickle and made her think he meant for little Sammy to be punished. Exactly what did he have in mind? She imagined the Marshalls, with their strong personalities, wouldn’t flinch at much of anything, but she couldn’t bear the thought of him treating Sammy harshly. She decided to nip that idea in the bud. “He’s seven years old. Rather than sentence him to jail, perhaps we should find out what is going on with his family.”

Logan shook his head. “Wasn’t thinking of jail, but correcting him now might keep him out of one in the future.”

She felt her eyes narrow at the wisdom of his words. Not that she was willing to turn a small boy over to a big man. “You’re right. The boy needs to be punished. Let me take care of it.” She’d spare the rod, but make Sammy realize the dangers of his choices. Perhaps she’d have him write lines. She sat up straighter, putting a fierce look on her face to convince him she meant to handle this well.

He dropped his foot to the floor and leaned forward, his gaze so demanding she couldn’t look away. “You think he should be whipped?” His voice was soft, so she couldn’t judge his meaning. He looked about, perhaps searching for a strap.

She rose to her feet, gripping the edge of the desk to hold herself steady, and gave him her most challenging look. “Mr. Marshall, I will not tolerate physical punishment in my classroom.”

He leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee again, taking his time about answering, as if considering how to handle the noncompliant schoolteacher. “That’s good to hear.”

She’d misjudged him and she sat down again, relief leaving her weak.

He continued. “But that isn’t what I had in mind. And it’s Logan, if you don’t mind. Wouldn’t want to be confused with all those Marshalls older than me.”

“What do you have in mind then?”

“He stole from me. He can work for me to pay off his debt.”

She stared at the man. “He’s seven.”

“Old enough to run and fetch. Besides, what he does isn’t important, but owning up to what he did is.”

His suggestion was so totally unexpected that she didn’t know what to say. Every time Logan opened his mouth, he surprised her. She’d been expecting harshness. Instead, he’d shown compassion and caring. She slowed her breathing as she realized she’d expected a lack of sympathy and understanding such as she’d experienced from her parents.

He nodded, taking her silence to mean agreement. “Tomorrow after school then? Or do you think he should come over at noon? Yes.” He answered his own question. “Noon would be better. Wouldn’t want to keep him from his chores at home.”

She pursed her mouth. “I’d like to know why he comes to school without a lunch.”

“Like you said, he’s seven. I’m guessing he forgot it.”

“Four days in a row?” Was now the time to mention the other things she’d noticed?

Logan chuckled. “Little boys can forget lots of times.” He got to his feet.

He was about to leave, but she wasn’t through. She wasn’t believing that a hungry boy would forget his lunch four days in a row. She rose to better face him as she spoke. “I believe there’s more to it than that.” She’d seen bruises on his arms and in his eyes.

He studied her, a challenge and perhaps a warning in his sky-blue eyes. “Send the boy over at noon. If he forgets his lunch again he might like to share mine.” He strode from the room.

Drained, Sadie sank to her chair. Her head fell to her cradled arms on the desktop.

How had she been railroaded into agreeing to send Sammy across the street at noon hour? But at least he’d get fed. She’d pray he’d also repent of stealing. But something else bothered her. Logan seemed upset at her suggestion there was more than forgetfulness to Sammy not having a lunch. But she knew there was something not right about Sammy’s situation, and she would do her best to find out what it was. She wouldn’t let the Marshalls’ power stop her, but she would have to tread carefully—because if she angered them, she could lose her job.


Chapter Two (#ua39c284a-0d58-5692-b634-2d78695d4abd)

The next day Sadie called Sammy to her desk on the pretext of going over his work.

“Sammy, I’d like to meet your parents. Can you ask them when would be a good time for me to call?”

Sammy jerked back from leaning his elbows beside her on the desk. “No point you coming to visit.”

She held his gaze steadily for several seconds, but his eyes revealed nothing. “Why is that?” she asked when it became clear the boy would offer no explanation on his own.

Sammy shuffled his feet and looked past her right shoulder. “My father—”

She couldn’t help but notice how he stumbled on the word.

“He don’t care for company.”

“I see.” Except she didn’t. What reason could a man have for not wanting visitors? “Perhaps your mother would welcome a visit when your father is away.”

Sammy ducked his head and scuffed the toe of his shoe along the floor. “I’ll ask.”

“I’ll write a note.” She took a piece of paper and penned a request to visit, folded it and handed it to Sammy. “Give that to your mother.”

Sammy stuffed the note into his pocket. “Can I go now?”

She thought of mentioning the plan for him to help Logan at noon but, not knowing how he would react, she decided to wait until it was too late for him to run off. “Yes, you may.” Sadie watched him return to his seat. Would he give his mother the note or would it be forgotten in his pocket?

All too soon noon hour arrived. She told the children to eat their lunches. Sammy again had not brought one. “Sammy, would you please come to my desk?”

The boy stuck out his chin in a defiant gesture and swaggered toward her.

She might have found his bravado amusing if it wasn’t so sad. Aware that the other children watched and listened intently, she nodded toward the door that opened into the store. “We’ll talk out there.”

She didn’t touch him, yet she felt his trembling. The poor child. “You have nothing to be afraid of.” Her words offered him no comfort. She would have put an arm around him and drawn him to her side, but every previous attempt at physical contact had caused him to shrink back and she must respect his wishes in the matter. In time, he would learn to trust her.

They stepped into the store. Thankfully, no one but George Marshall, the owner of the store, was in and, apart from sparing them a friendly nod, he was busy rearranging an assortment of tools. A rather noisy job that would enable her conversation to be private. She faced Sammy.

“Mr. Logan Marshall has offered to let you go over to the schoolhouse for the lunch break.”

Sammy’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

The door to the street opened and Logan strode in. He called a greeting to his uncle as he crossed the floor.

Sadie told herself there was no cause for a case of jitters, and yet her heart fluttered madly and her blood pounded in her cheeks. Men always made her nervous, but this was a different reaction and it defied explanation...a fact she didn’t appreciate.

Sammy pressed his back to the door and his fists curled, making Sadie forget her own reaction. The poor child feared he was in trouble.

Logan tipped his head toward her in greeting, then turned to Sammy. “Well, young man, did your teacher tell you of our arrangement?”

“She said I had to go with you.” Defiance colored each word.

“I didn’t get time to explain why.” She would let Logan do it.

He flickered a look at her that carried a whole world of accusation.

She ignored it. Her reasons for not telling Sammy sooner were valid.

Logan gave Sammy his full attention. “You stole my lunch two times.”

Sammy’s only response was a stubborn look.

Logan continued. “You know that’s wrong.”

Still no response.

“I could call the sheriff.”

Sadie opened her mouth to protest, but Logan held up a hand to signal silence and she decided to wait and see what he had in mind. Still, if he thought to have the boy arrested, well, she wouldn’t stand idly by.

Logan leaned back on his heels. His stance did not fool Sadie. He was ready to catch little Sammy should he decide to run.

“The way I see it,” Logan continued, slowly, as if thinking what to say, “is you owe me for the stolen food.”

“I gots no money.”

“Then you will work for me.”

Sadie almost smiled at the eager light in Sammy’s eye.

“I don’t have to go to school?”

Logan chuckled. “You can work during the lunch hour. But first we’ll eat.”

“Okay, then, let’s go.” He eased between Sadie and Logan and headed for the door.

A grin widening his mouth, Logan spoke to Sadie. “I’ll make sure he’s back for classes.”

Sammy waited impatiently at the door. Logan plunked his hat on his head and the two left the store.

Sadie watched as they crossed the street...the big man who cared about a little boy and the little boy doing his best to match Logan stride for stride.

Satisfied the boy was in good hands, she turned back to the classroom. If only she could be a little bird on the eaves of the schoolhouse and watch the two together.

Sammy returned just before the bell rang, a wide grin upon his face.

At recess, the other boys surrounded him, demanding to know where he’d gone. He refused to tell them and a couple of them looked angry. She’d have to make sure they didn’t torment him.

At the end of the school day, she reminded Sammy of her note for his mother. He nodded and raced away.

The children all departed and she quickly tidied the classroom, then went in search of Logan. She was so anxious to learn how things had gone between him and Sammy that she would willingly seek out the very man who had the power to upset her carefully constructed world. One that had narrowed down to her students, a few friends and her books.

He saw her coming and hung his hammer on a nail to wait.

“Sammy seemed pleased with himself when he came back,” she said.

“He’s a good kid. He ate half my lunch. While we ate, I told him a man must live by certain standards or he couldn’t call himself a man.”

She swallowed hard. Just as she’d suspected, the Marshall men had high standards. A woman like her would not be accepted. Probably not even tolerated. She could imagine the look of horror she’d receive if they found out about her past.

Turning her attention to another matter, she asked, “What do you know about Sammy and his family?”

Logan leaned against the wall and faced her. “I’ve been asking about them.”

She didn’t wait for him to say what he’d learned. “His father doesn’t like company. Don’t you think that sounds ominous? I sent a note home asking to visit his mother.”

“You might have a hard time doing that. From what Uncle George learned at the store, the mother died a short time ago. A man came by to ask about an empty place on the west edge of town. He assumed the man was Mr. Weiss though he didn’t give his name. I guess the man hasn’t been around again since.”

“Sammy’s mother’s dead? Why wouldn’t Sammy just say so? Why would he lie about such a thing?”

Logan shrugged. “Maybe he’s afraid you might consider it unsuitable for a boy his age to stay with his father.”

“He has no reason to think I would object. Why would he?” Her eyes were hot with denial and objection. “The poor child. Who comforts him?”

“I expect his father does.”

Recalling the bruises she’d noted, she wondered if the father offered any sort of understanding to the child. “Being a father or mother does not necessarily mean a person knows how to comfort. Or even desires to.”

“Sadie Young, you have a very jaded opinion of family life.” He planted a big hand on her arm, an act so solicitous that her insides crackled. “What happened to make you that way?”

The trembling started deep in her soul and spread in ripples to her limbs. She must not let him know how his words affected her, and she stepped away, forcing him to lower his arm to his side. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Sammy. I’m convinced there’s more to the story than we know, and I intend to investigate.”

Logan watched her carefully. “Have a care how you deal with this hurting family. I recall how difficult it was when my mother died. I expect they’re in need of a few kind words to get them through their loss.”

“I would never be unkind, but neither would I hesitate to intervene if a child is being—” She sought for a word that would describe her concerns without demanding she provide more information because, apart from a few bruises that could be explained as normal boyhood bumps, and the hurt she saw in Sammy’s eyes, her suspicions were based largely on recognizing something in the boy that echoed from her own wounded spirit. “If a child is being intentionally hurt.”

He shoved his hat back on his head and looked heavenward, his eyes closed for a moment. He met her gaze, his piercing and demanding. “I see you’re going to be stubborn about this. At least promise you’ll let me know before you do anything.”

She met his eyes, matching him hard look for hard look. She had no intention of backing down before his insistence.

“Miss Young, I can’t let you visit a widower without an escort.”

She swallowed hard. Was he really interested in protecting her reputation? Gall burned at the back of her throat. If only he knew how impossibly late such concern was. But she had two choices—agree or walk away. She guessed if she chose the latter, he wouldn’t hesitate to bang on her door and demand her promise. Better to give it of her own volition. “I’ll let you know.” She wanted nothing more than to run to her quarters, but she walked away in what she hoped was a calm, controlled manner.

“Be sure you do,” he called.

She closed the door, but the wooden barrier did nothing to quell the racing of her heart. He’d touched her in a comforting way. He’d shown genuine care for a hurting family. And he seemed concerned about her reputation. Comfort, understanding, consolation—all things she’d once yearned for—and now got from a man she was half-frightened of. It unsettled her through and through.

She pushed back her shoulders and lifted her head. She no longer needed any of those things. She’d found them with God, through reading the scriptures, and in standing on her own two feet. But an innocent touch from Logan and those supposedly dead feelings rushed through her like floodwaters. She did not thank him for bringing those emotions to the surface.

She must ignore those feelings, ignore the man who triggered them. She looked about her rooms for something with which to occupy herself. Her flowers. They always filled her with a sense of peace and beauty. Sitting at the little desk where she also prepared school lessons, she pulled out the thick book in which she pressed the flowers she gathered. Shortly after her arrival on the stagecoach a few weeks ago, Logan’s sister, Annie, had taken her for a buggy ride out to the open fields, and she’d picked wild crocuses to add to her collection. They were dried and she chose a piece of heavy paper. With her tweezers, she gently lifted the crocuses from their place of preparation to glue them in an arrangement. At some point, she’d add other flowers and create a picture to frame and hang on the wall.

Her usual sense of peace eluded her as Logan hammered on the outside of the building.

* * *

All weekend, Sadie worried about Sammy. Was he getting fed? Did someone comfort him? Or did someone hurt him? She busied herself on Saturday by cleaning the classroom, preparing lessons and baking a cake. But Logan and another man worked on the schoolhouse, and their noise and—she allowed herself to admit—Logan’s presence made it difficult to concentrate. She slipped next door to visit Kate.

“Did I see a small boy with Logan yesterday?” Kate asked.

Sadie had met Kate on the stagecoach earlier in the spring as they traveled to Bella Creek. Kate was as ordinary as could be, often wearing a big white apron to protect her clothing from the things she encountered as her father’s assistant. Kate’s father was the new doctor. Kate had brought her friend Isabelle with her to Bella Creek. Sadie smiled thinking of Isabelle. Imagine, an heiress in their midst, and none of them had realized it at first. Kate and her father had come in response to a plea for help from the townspeople of Bella Creek, the request for a doctor and a teacher after a devastating fire.

She turned her attention to Kate’s question. “Little Sammy Weiss.” She explained the situation. “Have you or your father had occasion to meet any of the Weisses?”

Kate said they hadn’t and they turned the conversation to other matters.

On Sunday, Sadie glanced about the congregation. Sammy wasn’t there. She told herself there might be a good reason the family didn’t attend. Perhaps they weren’t churchgoers, but she’d been hoping to see them.

Instead, she ended up meeting Logan’s gaze across the aisle. The blue sky of outdoors echoed in his eyes, sending a jolt through her. She jerked her gaze away and stared hard at the preacher...another recent newcomer. She forced herself to listen carefully to each of Preacher Arness’s words and left the service strengthened and encouraged.

She might not be acceptable in the eyes of many people, should they learn her secret, but she was wholly accepted by God through the cleansing blood of Christ. Humming a hymn under her breath, she smiled at each who greeted her. Grandfather Marshall took her hand and asked after her well-being. Although his kind words brought a sting of tears to the back of her eyes, she managed to answer calmly and moved on before Logan could do more than nod. She had no need to avoid him, and yet she couldn’t stand and make polite conversation with him, either.

* * *

Monday morning, Sammy handed her a note as he entered the classroom. “From my ma,” he said. He walked away before she could think what to say.

Logan said Sammy’s ma had died. Was he mistaken? How was she to find out?

She opened the note and read it: “I’m sick. Can you come some other time?”

She studied the writing. Many of the older children wrote better than this, but perhaps the woman had not been properly schooled, which would explain the promise she’d elicited from her son to attend classes. But why would someone say the mother was dead?

She set the children to work and checked on each of them. She paused at Sammy’s desk and bent close to speak privately to him. “I’m sorry your mother is ill. Can I do anything?”

“No, ma’am,” he whispered.

“If you think of something, don’t be afraid to ask.” She pressed her hand to his back.

He flinched so sharply that she jerked her hand away.

“Are you hurt?” Had this occurred over the weekend? It was the first time she’d touched him in that particular place but, in truth, he had shrunk back from every touch she offered. Pain and anger tore at her insides. There had been a time she’d thought family to be a place of shelter and protection. There were families who portrayed these ideals, and many others that did not.

He sidled away as far as his desk allowed. “No.” His brown eyes were big and watchful.

She didn’t need the details to know this child had been hurt and was afraid. She glanced about. Now was not the time or place to say anything.

She waited until recess and called him to her desk as the others went out to play. “Sammy, if you need someone to talk to, or if you need help of any sort, please let me know.”

He shook his head hard, sending his overgrown dirty blond hair from side to side. “There’s nothing to say and I don’t need nothing.” He scurried outdoors. It was plain as the nose on his face that he didn’t want to talk to her.

She stared after him. Oh, Father, this child is in need of help. I know it as clearly as I know someone should have helped me. Show me what to do.

At noon, he hurried out to join Logan before Sadie reached the door.

By the time school let out, she knew what she must do. Her only regret was having given her promise to Logan to tell him before she did anything.

As soon as the children departed, she hurried across the street and confronted him. “Look at this.” She handed him the note. “I thought you said Mrs. Weiss had passed away.”

He read the few words. Logan shook his head, as puzzled by the message as she. “I’ve never known Uncle George to be wrong.”

“Something isn’t right and I’m going out there to find out what it is.”

“But she asks you not to.”

“I told you I would not hesitate to visit a family if I felt the need and, in this case, I do. I said I’d let you know and I’m doing that. I fear Sammy is in some sort of danger.” She told him about the bruises she’d observed on Sammy’s arms and the way Sammy had flinched at having his back touched. “I’m certain he’s been whipped hard enough to leave him hurting.”

“You’re sure?”

“Not completely, but I won’t let it go until I know the truth.” Uncertainty filled his eyes as he studied her.

“Very well. If you’re determined to do this, I’ll take you.”

“While I appreciate your offer of help...” Which it had not been. “I prefer to go alone.”

“Why?”

She considered her reply. She could hardly say it was because she didn’t want him hovering at her side making her aware of things she’d sooner not think of. Like the strength of him physically and in other ways. Not to mention that he made her think of how the Marshall family was a model of all the things she thought family should be, but was only a dream for many people. “If the woman is ill, she might not want a strange man showing up.”

“Or the teacher, either, yet you are set on going.”

Challenge upon challenge passed between them.

“Fine,” she said finally, only because she knew he wouldn’t give in.

“Very well. Let me get a buggy from the livery barn and I’ll come back for you.” He was on his way before she got her agreement out. While he did that, she hurried to her quarters and bundled up the cake she’d baked Saturday. At least she wouldn’t arrive empty-handed.

She stood in front of her living quarters, ready and waiting, when Logan drove up with the rented buggy.

Logan jumped down and came around to help her up. He retained her hand even after she was safely seated.

She brought her gaze to his, knew hers revealed her determination and hopefully none of her quaking fear at what they might discover. She couldn’t say what he thought, but his look gave her a jolt of courage...much-needed courage.

He released her hand and she took a deep breath, only to have it rush from her as he climbed into the buggy and sat beside her. They were on their way.

She tried to pretend Logan wasn’t at her side and tried to pretend she didn’t draw some strength from his presence. He wouldn’t be there if he knew the sort of woman she was. Soiled, dirty, ruined.

She shivered at the thought he might somehow learn the truth about her.

* * *

Logan was silent as they made their way down the streets of Bella Creek. Was it just a few days ago he had thought the schoolmarm shy and retiring? Today she was a determined, headstrong woman, ready to walk into an unknown situation in order to protect a child. Was she truly so noble, or was there more to it than that? Or less? Grandfather had warned Logan to be careful not to judge every woman based on his experience with two of them, but how was he to know what lay hidden beneath the prim appearance of Miss Sadie Young? He would not believe anything but his own heart, which wore a permanent warning—a stay-away sign.

Nor would he let the teacher go alone to confront Mr. or Mrs. Weiss or whomever they’d discovered. After all, the family had come from Wolf Hollow, and that alone was reason to be cautious, though he couldn’t help wondering at the mixed information he’d learned. There was something not right.

They drove past the tidy houses of Bella Creek and reached a slightly wooded area where squatters often used the ramshackle house standing there. “I believe this is the place.” He pointed to the right. He hadn’t been past in over a year and it had not improved one bit. The yard was littered with debris. Once it warmed up, the flies would be thick as syrup.

He pulled to a stop in front of the house. A window had been repaired with scraps of wood.

Logan helped Sadie down, “Careful where you step.” Poverty always bothered him. Being careless about taking care of one’s property bothered him even more, because the first couldn’t be helped but the latter could. However, if they’d only recently moved they likely hadn’t had time to clean up. Or if the parents were ill...or worse...there would be no one to do it apart from Sammy and, though the boy was a good little worker, he needed guidance and instruction.

Sadie grimaced. “I understand that some people are content to live like this. I’m not here to judge how Sammy lives, only to see if he’s safe.”

Logan nodded. “Let’s go find out.”

Someone must have surely heard their approach, but no one came to the door to welcome them.

Logan took Sadie’s hand and guided her across the littered yard. She clung to him. He told himself it was only to keep her footing and there was no need to feel all protective toward her. After all, she’d been prepared to come here on her own and would surely have managed fine without his help.

He was grateful she didn’t have to. They reached the door and he rapped his knuckles against the worn wood. From inside came a rustling and a muted voice, but no one came to the door or called out an invitation to enter.

Sadie gave him a questioning look and he shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t hear.” He knocked again, harder this time, and again they waited, knowing someone was inside. “We need to speak to you,” Logan called. “May we come in?”

Silence and then a shuffle of feet, and the door opened enough to allow Sammy to peek through. “Teacher? Mr. Marshall? What’re you doing here?”

Sadie squatted down to eye level with the boy. “I was worried about you and came to make sure you are okay.”

Logan leaned closer to peer through the narrow opening of the door. The interior showed little sign of life—a bare table and an equally bare cupboard. He’d never seen a kitchen with nothing to indicate food preparation. “Can we come in?” he asked when it became apparent Sammy didn’t mean to extend an invitation.

Sammy glanced behind him, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Sadie straightened and turned to Logan. “This isn’t right,” she whispered.

He nodded.

“I’m okay,” Sammy said. “You don’t need to worry none about me.”

“But, Sammy, we are worried.” He knew he spoke for both of them. As he studied the boy, a pair of small feet entered his field of vision. “You have a little brother or sister? And a sick mother?”

Sadie gave him a look full of appeal, seeking his help, perhaps even his opinion. He tried not to let the notion make him feel that she might see him as a man worthy of her respect. Which, he thought with a degree of irony, he was. What he meant was he no longer cared if a woman thought so.

Nevertheless, he listened to her silent call for help and shouldered the door open, the squawk of its rusted hinges rending the silence.

Sammy stepped back. An older girl pulled him close while, in her other arm, she held a smaller girl. The older girl wore shoes with the toes cut out to accommodate her feet. Her dress had a tear in the skirt and was almost colorless from frequent washings. The little one was barefoot and her faded pink dress was equally worn, yet they were both surprisingly clean.

In a glance Logan took in the room—a bed with no mattress and only a scattering of blankets. A narrow wooden table sagged to one side, and nearby was a single chair with rungs missing in the back. Again he was struck by how empty the place was of belongings. Or any sign of domesticity. Not a curtain. Not a dish. Nothing.

“Where’s your mother? Your father?” Sadie’s words were surprisingly gentle considering the state of the place and the children.

Logan remained at her side, stifling an urge to put an arm about her shoulders and protect her from the glaring truth. “You kids are alone, aren’t you?”

Sadie pressed a hand to her throat. “Alone? Is that possible?” She studied the silent trio. “I think you better explain what is going on.”

Sammy looked up at his older sibling, a slender girl with hair lighter than Sammy’s and the same dark eyes. She shook her head in answer to Sammy’s unasked question.

“We got nothing to say,” Sammy said.

Logan pulled forward the only chair, two rungs missing in its back, and indicated Sadie should sit. Her glance at Logan informed him that the misery of the children’s situation brought her pain. Sadie placed a package on the table and unwrapped a cake. Three pairs of eyes lingered on it, then eased away. It didn’t take more than a glance around the place to know they were likely hungry.

He wished he could erase the pain for Sadie and the children. But things like this couldn’t be undone...only resolved, and he prayed for wisdom. Lord, help us unravel this mystery.

Slowly, softly, Sadie began to speak. “Sammy, are these your sisters?”

Sammy nodded.

The older girl tightened her arm about Sammy’s shoulders. If Sadie noticed the warning gesture, she ignored it. “What are their names?”

“She’s Beth.” Sammy indicated the older girl. “And this here is baby Jeannie.”

Jeannie, the blondest of the three, with the same dark eyes, wasn’t a baby anymore, but Logan understood that the youngest child often got called the baby for a long time.

“How old are your sisters?” Sadie continued in her gentle voice.

“I’m thirteen,” Beth said. “And Jeannie is three. Why?”

Sadie managed a slight smile as she met Beth’s eyes. “It’s just something teachers ask children. Let me introduce ourselves. I’m Sammy’s teacher, Miss Young, and this is Logan Marshall.”

Beth nodded. “I know who you are. But why are you here? I—Sammy took a note asking you not to visit.”

Logan noted the hesitation, as if Beth had been about to say she had sent the note. He glanced at Sadie, saw by the flash in her eyes that she had heard the same thing.

Her gaze returned to the older girl. “Yes, he did. But I couldn’t help but be worried. Especially when I saw that his back hurt him.”

Both Sammy and Beth adopted impassive expressions.

“Sammy, who has been hurting you?”

“Not Beth.”

“I wasn’t accusing Beth.” She looked to Logan, seeking his opinion.

He gave her a slight nod to indicate she should continue questioning the children.

“Where’s your mama?” she asked them.

“Mama?” Little Jeannie spoke for the first time.

“Hush, baby.” Beth jostled the child.

“I want Mama.” Jeannie looked ready to cry.

“Hush, hush. Remember what I told you.”

Jeannie nodded. “Mama not coming back.”

So Logan’s uncle had been right.

“I’m sorry,” Sadie said. “You must all be very sad.”

Nothing but more unblinking stares from Sammy and Beth.

“Where is your father?” Logan asked. Though his deeper, more demanding voice jolted the pair, they quickly recovered and pressed their lips together.

“Where’s your papa?” he asked again, softer this time.

Little Jeannie, her eyes full of fear, whimpered and clung to Beth. Beth’s jaw muscles twitched as she clenched her teeth. Her eyes narrowed and she wrapped her arms about Jeannie in such a protective gesture that a shiver climbed Logan’s spine.

Logan crossed the floor to the cupboards and threw open the only remaining door. Empty. He touched the stove. Cold. He confronted the children. Sadie was right, both in thinking things weren’t as they should be and coming here to check on them.

He stilled his raging heart. “There is nothing in the house to eat.”

No response from any of them.

He circled the room, hating every inch of it as a place for children to live. He stopped behind Sadie’s chair and gripped the back. “When is your father returning?”

Jeannie whimpered and buried her face against her sister’s shoulder.

Beth glowered.

Sammy trembled. What was he afraid of?

“He’s gone, but he’ll be back.” Beth tried to look as if that was all that mattered.

“Where is he?” He’d find the man and make him look after these kids. And he’d make it clear that he must treat them kindly.

“Said he’d bring us something to eat,” Sammy blurted out.

“Hush,” Beth warned.

Sammy hung his head.

Logan assessed the little information the children had provided. One thing was clear—they couldn’t stay here.

“I’ll take you to the ranch, where you’ll all be well taken care of.”

At the same time, Sadie said, “Children, I am taking you home with me. I’ll make sure you are well taken care of and that no one will hurt you.”

Logan gave Sadie a hard look. “You live in tiny quarters.”

“You live with a houseful of people who, apart from your grandfather, are all busy, and he can’t take care of the children.”

He rocked his head back and forth. Did she realize she would be absent as much as anyone at the ranch? Somehow, he knew that little truth wouldn’t change her mind. “Who will look after Jeannie when you’re teaching?”

The stubbornness slid from her face.

“I look after Jeannie,” Beth said. “But we aren’t going with either of you.”

Logan and Sadie forgot their argument as they confronted the children.

“You can’t stay here,” Sadie said. “It’s not...” She glanced about and seemed to struggle to find the appropriate word. “Safe.” A heavy beat passed as everyone stood poised to argue. “It’s only until we can locate your father,” Sadie added.

A look passed between Sammy and Beth. Logan could not interpret it except to know it put him on edge.

Jeannie struggled to get down, and Beth could not hold the squirming child. The little girl went to the table and stared at the cake.

“Who would like some?” Sadie asked, her look including all the children.

Sammy surged forward, but Beth pulled him back.

Ignoring their response, Sadie took a knife from her bag and cut a piece. “Jeannie, would you like some cake?”

She nodded and took the offered morsel. “Thank you,” she said before she devoured the treat.

Sadie cut two more pieces and indicated Sammy and Beth should each take one. Beth shook her head and gripped Sammy’s shoulder, but the boy slipped away and took the cake, making short work of it.

“When did your father leave?” Logan demanded, his voice more sharp than he intended, but to see the way the children ate...

“He left Friday and good rid—” Sammy’s words were cut short as Beth poked him.

Sammy jumped and gave his sister a glaring look. “What?”

“How many times do I have to tell you we keep our business to ourselves?”

“Lots, I guess,” he mumbled. “Want your cake?”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, although her eyes practically devoured the treat.

“Can I have some more?” Sammy asked Sadie.

“Certainly.” She handed him another piece, then turned to Logan. “Can I speak to you outside?”

Three pairs of eyes followed them to the door. She went to the far side of the buggy and waited, her eyes flashing green shards. “These children cannot stay here.”

“I agree.”

Her fierce expression didn’t falter. “Good. We agree on that point, at least. Now would you mind helping me get them to my place?”

“Your place? Where is everyone going to sleep? Do you even have enough bedding for four people?”

“I’m sure I can get what I need at your uncle’s store.”

“That’s so.” But still, it seemed just plain wrong for her to take them home. “At the ranch, they would be surrounded by many loving people.”

“Is it fair to ask Annie to take on more?”

He almost gave up at that. “Annie can manage. After all, she doesn’t have Dawson and Mattie to look after anymore.”

Sadie sighed as if he missed the whole point.

“Shall we let the children make the choice?” he said. Of course, they would choose the ranch. What child doesn’t want to live on a ranch with lots of adults to dote on them? “Besides, we know what it’s like to lose a mother.”

She looked past him, far past him. “Maybe I understand them better than you and your kin can.”

“Now why would you say such a thing?”

“Because you come from a loving, supportive, forgiving family. How can you begin to understand what these kids are dealing with?”

He wished he could see what her past held that made her eyes seem lifeless as she brought her gaze back to his.

“Let’s go ask the children.” She took half a step and stopped. “What if they keep insisting they will stay here?”

He considered the possibility and suddenly chuckled. “Guess we could tell them there’s a nice hot meal waiting for them with cake to follow.”

The heaviness left her face and she grinned. “I heard the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I suppose it applies equally to children.”

He took her arm and led her back to the shack. “We’ll soon find out.”

The children stood lined up waiting for them to enter. He wondered how much of the conversation they’d been able to hear through the thin walls and barely-there window.

Side by side, he and Sadie stood before them. He and Sadie hadn’t decided what to say to persuade the children they must leave, but while he mulled over possibilities, Sadie spoke.

“Children, I think you can see as plainly as we can that you can’t remain here. I’d like you to come stay with me while we sort things out. You might enjoy sharing the stew I have planned for supper.”

“Or you could come with me to the ranch.” That didn’t sound very enticing. “We always have lots to eat.”

“We’ll go with the teacher,” Beth said with finality.

Logan had agreed to let them make the choice. So that’s how it would be. He glanced at Sadie, who didn’t look like she was enjoying this victory. In fact, her eyes were dark. Was she regretting her offer?

She clapped her hands just like a schoolteacher should. “Very well. Let’s get your things gathered up.”

The children’s belongings were pitifully few—three threadbare blankets, a change of clothes, well-worn jackets. Beth’s and Sammy’s were too small, while the arms of Jeannie’s jacket hung past her hands.

Jeannie clutched a rag in her arms.

“What’s that, honey?” Sadie asked.

“My comfie.” She wrapped both arms about it, looking defensive.

“It’s an old sweater of Ma’s that she sleeps with.” Beth looked ready to go to battle.

“Then, by all means, you must bring it.”

Beth’s shoulders dropped as she realized she wouldn’t have to argue with Sadie about the rag.

They all headed for the door. Beth hesitated and turned about to look around the room.

“What is it?” Sadie asked.

“What will he do when he comes back and we’re gone?” Her voice quivered.

“Why don’t I leave a note explaining where you are?” Sadie had pencil and paper out of her bag before she finished speaking, then waited, allowing Beth to make up her mind.

“I guess that would be best.”

Sadie wrote the note.

Logan glanced over her shoulder to read it: “The children are safe in Bella Creek.”

She couldn’t have given less information. He was about to protest when she turned to Sammy.

“Would you get me a rock?” The boy ran to do so.

Sadie took the rock, placed it over the paper in the middle of the table and stepped back. How long would the paper stay there before a mouse used it to build a nest?

They arrived at the schoolhouse and he helped them alight. “I’ll ride out to the ranch and gather up some stuff for you and the children.” He climbed back into the buggy and drove away before she could voice any arguments. He would assist with the children whether or not she welcomed it. In fact, he quite looked forward to doing so.

With a start he realized it would mean spending time with the schoolmarm. How had he managed to get himself tangled in a situation that had him helping a woman? Hadn’t he learned his lesson? And why, in the back corner of his brain, had a little thought surfaced and left him wondering if this time things would be different?

He tightened the grip on the reins of his heart. He would not feel free to care about a woman until he knew everything about her—her present situation, her plans for the future and, especially, her past.


Chapter Three (#ua39c284a-0d58-5692-b634-2d78695d4abd)

Sadie stood in the doorway and faced three forlorn children huddled together in the middle of the floor. Her quarters had seemed roomy until now. As Logan had said, they would be crowded here. But they would be safe.

Without appearing to do so, she studied Beth. Was there a reason she’d chosen to come with Sadie? Was it because there were no men at the teacher’s house?

With a shake of her head, she warned herself she too easily equated the children’s situation with her own and she had no reason to do so. They wouldn’t know the truth about things until they located the father. Perhaps he had been injured. But providing an excuse did not erase the way her nerves tingled with certainty there was more involved than a missing father and a deceased mother.

“Children, I will get beds arranged after Logan comes back.” She’d ask him to help her bring cots she would purchase from his uncle’s store. “In the meantime, let’s put your things in the bedroom.”

She led the way to the second room.

Beth looked around. “Where are we going to sleep?”

“We’ll figure out something. After all, I’m the teacher.” She wasn’t sure why that should make the children trust her, but she smiled as Beth relaxed enough to set her squirming little sister down.

Jeannie hurried over to the bed and touched the bright quilt that Aunt Sarah had helped her make, insisting handwork was relaxing. If only her aunt knew how much pain had gone into every stitch as Sadie had made the quilt. She’d told herself that she would start a new life, she would be independent, she would help those in dire circumstances, she would be a teacher and find what she needed in that profession.

Jeannie patted the quilt. “Pretty, pretty.”

“Don’t touch,” Beth warned.

“It’s okay. You can certainly touch it. This is your home now.” At least until the situation could be sorted out, though, if her intuition was correct, she’d make sure the children were never returned to a man who not only neglected the children but hurt them. “I made that quilt when I was eighteen. My aunt helped me.”

“Where was your mother? Had she passed on?” Beth asked, her eyes full of sympathy.

“No, both my parents are alive, but I lived with my aunt for a few years. That’s where I took my teacher’s training.”

“Oh,” both Sammy and Beth said.

She cleared out a drawer in her dresser. “Beth, you can put the girls’ things in here.”

By shoving her books together on one shelf, she made room on another for Sammy’s things. They had so little, but soon she hoped she could provide them with clothes and jackets that fit properly.

The enormity of the task she’d taken on weighed on her shoulders. A teacher’s salary would not extend to feeding and clothing three children. Dear Father God, please provide for us. “I’m sure you’re all hungry. Would you like a snack? Afterward you can help me prepare supper.”

“Yes, please,” Jeannie said. “I hungry.”

“Me, too,” Sammy said. “That cake was really good.”

Beth hung back, not ready to admit she couldn’t manage on her own.

“There’s some cake left. Let’s save it for dessert. But how does bread and jam sound?” Logan’s aunt Mary baked bread and sold it through the store.

“Yes, please.” Jeannie hurried into the kitchen and parked herself at the table. Her brother and sister followed.

Thankfully, those who had furnished Sadie’s rooms had provided four chairs, so there was room for all of them. And no more. She wouldn’t think that it meant she couldn’t invite Logan to share their meals. Or simply come for tea. It was not like she longed for his company. But he had offered to help. Insisted on it.

She sliced bread, spread butter and jam, and placed some before each child. They thanked her and ate neatly. Almost too neatly, as if concerned she would scold them—or worse?—if they dropped a crumb.

Again she was overreacting. She had no reason to think they were being anything but polite, and if she cared to acknowledge what it really meant she would have to say the parents had trained them well. But her gut insisted there was more to the situation than either she or Logan understood.

The children finished and carried their dishes to the dishpan. “I’ll clean up,” Beth said, handing Sammy a tea towel so he could dry.

“I appreciate that.” She would not take away their independence. While the children did dishes, she got out vegetables and the leftover meat to make into stew.

“We can help with that, too,” Beth said.

So she parked the children in a row beside her. Beth diced meat, Sammy peeled the carrots, and Sadie gave Jeannie a basin of water and let her wash the potatoes. Satisfaction filled her insides. This could be her family for a few days.

She stiffened at the pain that grabbed her insides. This might well be the only family she would ever have, and knowing it would be temporary filled her with stinging regret.

Once the vegetables and meat were prepared, she tossed it all into the biggest pot she had and set it to stew. In minutes a succulent aroma filled the room.

They cleaned up. Jeannie played happily with a handful of peelings she’d rescued. Beth and Sammy stood by the cupboard, looking about as if searching for something to do.

Sadie would have no trouble keeping them busy in the classroom, but what would she have them do in their new home?

Before she could come up with an answer, the rattle of a wagon pulling up to the door drew them to the window.

“It’s Logan,” Sammy announced.

“Indeed, it is.”

“He’s got stuff with him.”

Logan jumped down, hurried around the back and lifted out a wooden box.

Sammy rushed to open the door.

Logan entered and looked about, giving each of them a smile. “Sure smells good in here.”

“What’s in the box?” Sammy asked.

“Sammy.” Beth sounded horrified at her brother’s question.

“Why don’t you look and see.” Logan set it down and waved them all forward.

Beth hesitated, which was enough impetus for Sadie to move closer and have a look.

Sammy lifted out a jar of canned meat. And then another of peaches. “It’s food.”

“Yup.” Logan looked pleased with himself. “When I told my family about you children coming to live with Miss Young, they said they would help.” He brought his gaze to Sadie, his eyes bright with pleasure.

She wasn’t about to refuse the offering. “Thank you to you and your family.” There were potatoes, carrots and turnips, canned goods and—she lifted out a cloth-wrapped bundle—two loaves of fresh bread.

“I have a few more things in the wagon. Sammy, give me a hand.” He trotted back outside.

Grinning at being asked, Sammy joined Logan and they brought in a small cot. “There are two of them. Where do you want them set up?”

Her relief was palpable. “This will solve the sleeping situation. Put this one in the bedroom.” They shuffled the furniture around to make room for the cot. “I’ll sleep here and the girls can have the bigger bed.”

“Oh no, miss.” Beth blinked and fluttered her hands. “We wouldn’t think of putting you out. Me and Jeannie can sleep on the cot.”

“Nonsense.” She draped an arm across the girl’s shoulders, feeling them tense. Did the father beat her, too? She would certainly be keeping an eye out for any evidence. “It only makes sense for the two of you to take the bigger bed.”

“What about me?” Sammy demanded. “Where am I sleeping?”

“Ma always said you could sleep standing up, so we’ll just prop you in a corner somewhere.” The room silenced at Beth’s comment.

Logan was the first to realize she was teasing her brother and chuckled. “Looks like that problem is solved.”

Beth’s pleased smile was fleeting but beautiful. Sadie and Logan glanced at each other. Seems he was as relieved as she to see this lighter side of the girl.

Sammy shuffled his feet. “Aw, I can’t really sleep standing.”

“No?” Logan grinned at the boy. “Then maybe you can help me bring in the other cot while Miss Sadie decides where she wants it.”

Sammy followed Logan, trying his best to match the man’s longer strides.

Beth watched with a thoughtful, guarded expression. She turned, caught Sadie watching her and blinked away any telltale emotion.

Logan and Sammy returned and stood in the room, holding the cot. “Where do you want it?” Logan asked.

Sadie sprang into action. “I’ll shove this armchair to the side and the cot can go along this wall.”

Logan and Sammy set it up and stood back to study it. “How does that look to you?” Logan asked Sammy.

“Looks better’n standing in the corner.”

The boy earned a chuckle from both adults and a fleeting smile from Beth. Jeannie climbed to the cot and sat down on the metal slats. “Sammy sleep here?”

“Seems he thinks it will do.” Logan patted Sammy’s back.

The boy flinched so sharply that Logan’s hand fell away.

The boy’s pain was obvious. Sadie’s jaw tightened. Her nostrils flared as she fought back tears. Had Logan seen it? She widened her eyes to stop the threatening tears and looked at Logan.

His eyes had grown stormy. His expression had hardened. He’d noticed. Would he begin to share her suspicions regarding the father or would he blame it on the falls of an active boy?

He turned back to Sammy. “Shall we get the rest of the things?”

The pair went back out and returned with a mattress for each cot.

Then he brought in a box of clothing. “Annie thought you could use this. It’s mostly stuff either she or Mattie have outgrown.”

* * *

Logan couldn’t miss the way Sammy had flinched when he’d touched his back. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask the boy how he got hurt, but he didn’t want to make the children more defensive and guarded than they were already.

Annie had sent a stack of bedding, and he handed some to Sammy to carry in while he filled his arms with the rest.

“I’ll make the beds.” Beth hurried to do so. “Come on, Sammy. You can help.”

“Aw, that’s girls work.”

“We do our share.” Beth waited at the bedroom doorway. “I’m not doing it without you.”

Sammy followed, taking his time.

Jeannie trotted after them. “I help, too.”

Sadie let them handle the job on their own. She stood by Logan’s side. “I appreciate all this, though I fully expected to buy what I need at the store.”

“I’m prepared to help in any way I can.” So was the rest of his family, but he wanted her to acknowledge his support.

“That’s very generous, especially considering...”

Although she didn’t finish her thought, he could feel a wave of resistance from her. He guessed she had already judged and condemned the children’s father. Not that he could blame her. “I’m trying not to jump to conclusions about the missing Mr. Weiss. I know some fathers believe in spare the rod, spoil the child.” He shook his head. “It’s got to be difficult to lose one’s wife and have three children to take care of. Might even drive a man to do things he shouldn’t...to make mistakes in his judgment.” Sadie continued to study him with a stubborn, unbelieving look on her face. He wanted her to understand that sometimes a man needed a second chance. He was grateful he’d been given a couple of them. “I know I’ve made enough mistakes in my life.”

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.

In the evening light coming through the windows, Logan could see Sadie’s expression better.

She scrubbed her lips together and looked thoughtful. “Does she waken often like that?” she asked Beth.

Beth shrugged. “She’ll be okay once I’m beside her.”

That didn’t really answer Sadie’s question and Sadie shifted her gaze to Logan, seeking guidance.

He gave what he hoped she’d see as an encouraging smile. “Everything is strange to her right now.”

“I guess that’s so.” Sadie sounded relieved.

“I could stay a little longer if you like.” Would she welcome his offer or see it as interference?

He didn’t have to guess Beth’s feelings. She glowered at him.

“I said she’ll be fine,” she said. “I could go to bed with her right now, if you’re worried.”

Sammy laughed. “I’m not going to bed so early.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sadie’s words were firm, full of conviction.

Logan looked about. He could find no reason to delay his departure. “I best get home.”

Sammy, who had crawled up to sit beside Beth on the cot, jumped to his feet. “You’re leaving? Who will protect us?”

Logan’s insides twisted. Why did the boy think he needed protection? He’d certainly had none out in that awful shack. “You’re safe here. No one will bother you.”

Sammy looked at the windows and the doors, his mouth working. “But what if they do?”

“I’ll ask my uncle to watch out for you. Will that help?”

Sammy gave Logan some serious study. His chest rose and fell more rapidly than normal. “He can’t see us all the time.”

Logan looked at Sadie, saw her surprise and concern...and something more—a slight narrowing of her eyes as if she read something sinister in Sammy’s fears.

He looked at Beth. She watched with an impassive expression, not willing to trust anyone to share Sammy’s concerns.

“Why can’t you stay?” Sammy asked.

“My family will be worried if I don’t go home. Besides, I promised my grandfather to help him find some books.” No one else was available to take care of the old man’s needs. Besides, Grandfather asked only Logan for such favors. He hated to ask at all, but Logan went out of his way to see that Grandfather had everything he needed. This morning he had bemoaned the fact he couldn’t reach the books on the upper shelves and said he was getting short of reading material.

Logan had promised that as soon as he finished in town, he would arrange the shelves so Grandfather could reach his books.

“I tell you what. I’ll go get Miss Sadie’s school bell. If you need help, you ring it really hard and Uncle George will come running.” He’d alert a few close neighbors, as well. “How’s that?” And first thing tomorrow he would construct a drop bar to secure the door.

Sammy seemed to slip a mask over his feelings. “Yeah, sure. You’re right. We’ll be fine.”

Which, Logan understood, meant Sammy wouldn’t be expecting any help from Logan. “I’ll be back tomorrow and make sure you are all safe and sound.” He was more than half tempted to move into the schoolroom so he could keep an eye on them day and night, but he could just hear all the ladies in town whispering that Logan Marshall was back to his wayward ways, though he failed to see how he was to blame for the actions of the girls he’d courted. No, for both his sake and Sadie’s, he wouldn’t set up quarters in the classroom.

He trotted across the street, retrieved the school bell from the back room of the store and took it to Sadie.

Still, he hesitated about leaving them. Three frightened children were a big responsibility.

“Walk me to the wagon,” he said to Sadie.

Her resistance was so fleeting he might have persuaded himself he hadn’t seen it. Then she nodded and followed him outside.

“Are you going to be okay with them?”

She bristled. “Of course I am.”

“I expect the first night will be the worst.”

“To be honest, I’m more concerned about tomorrow when I have to leave the girls to teach.” She looked back at her living quarters. “They are all so afraid.”

He heard the hard note in her voice and knew she blamed the father for the children’s fears. “They have lots of reasons to be frightened. The death of their mother, their father missing, being alone out there, and now being here with people who are strangers to them.”

“Not to mention the bruises on Sammy’s back.”

It wasn’t something he could deny, given the evidence, but neither was he about to blame a missing father. But then who did he blame? “I’ll be back before you have to leave, so the girls won’t be alone and defenseless.” He didn’t know why he’d added the final word and wished he hadn’t when Sadie spun about to face him. He’d only been thinking of Sammy’s concerns—be they real or the fears of children who had experienced too many losses.

“You think they might have need of protection?”

“Don’t all children?”

Her eyes darkened to the color of old pines. Her lips trembled and then she pressed them together and wrapped her arms across her chest in a move so self-protective that he instinctively reached for her, but at the look on her face, he lowered his arms, instead.

She shuddered.

From the thought of him touching her or because of something she remembered? He couldn’t say, but neither could he leave her without knowing she was okay. Ignoring the idea that she might object to his forwardness, wanting only to make sure she knew he was concerned about her and the children, he cupped one hand to her shoulder. He knew he’d done the right thing when she leaned into his palm. “Sadie, I’ll stay if you need me to. I can sleep in the schoolroom, or over at Uncle George’s. Or even under the stars.”

She glanced past him to the pile of lumber at the back of the yard. For the space of a heartbeat, he thought she’d ask him to stay, then she drew in a long breath.

“We’ll be fine, though I would feel better leaving them in the morning if I knew you were here.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be here.” He hesitated, still not wanting to leave.

She stepped away from him, forcing him to lower his arm to his side. “Goodbye, then. And thank you for your help.”

“Don’t forget we’re partners in this.” He waited for her to acknowledge his statement.

“Very well.”

“Goodbye for now. I’ll see you in the morning.” He forced himself to climb into the wagon and flick the reins. He turned for one last look before he rode out of sight.


Chapter Four (#ua39c284a-0d58-5692-b634-2d78695d4abd)

Sadie waved as Logan drove away. With the school bell clutched to her chest she felt a little like Sammy. Who was going to keep them all safe? Not that she feared an intruder. The danger that concerned her would come in the form of a man who thought he had the right to walk in like he belonged. No one would be suspicious of him until it was too late. And then many would still see him as a friend or partner. She shook her head, realizing she was thinking of her past, not her present.

Logan had said they were partners in caring for the children. She wished he’d used any other word than the one that made her feel dirty inside and out, her heart clenching with a sense of abandonment.

God, help me forget my past and focus on my future. Help me know what these children need. She went back inside and set the bell in the middle of the table.

“Miss Sadie?” Beth’s voice carried a note of caution that Sadie wished she could erase. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help clean up the kitchen. Next time leave the dishes, and I’ll do them after Jeannie has settled.”

Oh, Sadie ached at such an overdeveloped sense of responsibility, and it deepened her suspicions regarding the family. Could it be that Beth strove to avoid outbursts by taking care of every detail? “Beth, my dear, what you did was far more important than dishes.”

Beth’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“You comforted and calmed a little girl. To my way of thinking that should always take precedence over dishes. Don’t you agree?”

Beth nodded. “Yes, miss.”

“Besides, there was plenty of help.”

“I dried,” Sammy said with some disgust. “Logan made me.”

“That’s good.” The worried furrow in Beth’s forehead disappeared.

Sadie felt the muscles in her own forehead relax. “I need to prepare lessons for tomorrow.”

Sammy looked about the small room. “What’re we gonna do?”

“You could work on your sums. You need the practice.”

“Aw. No fair having to live with the teacher.”

Sadie laughed. “I expect it has advantages as well as disadvantages.”

Sammy’s look demanded to know what the advantages would be but, before he could speak, Beth intercepted.

“I’ll help him.” She sat at the table and tipped her head at Sammy to indicate he should join her.

As slowly as possible, Sammy shuffled the three feet to the chair beside Beth.

Sadie handed them a work sheet. It would give her a chance to observe Beth and assess what level of education she had received.

It was soon apparent that Beth had the basic skills necessary for math. Tomorrow, Sadie would give a reading assignment so she could judge her reading ability.

Sammy finished and grew restless. Beth shushed him several times even though he made little noise. Again, Sadie wondered if the girl wasn’t overly cautious.

“Can I go out and play?” Sammy asked.

“Certainly. Don’t go far. It will soon be bedtime.” She looked to Beth. “What time do both of you go to bed?”

Beth glanced at the clock. It showed eight. “It’s about time.”

Sammy was out the door before either of them could inform him he must stay.

Again, Sadie looked to Beth for direction.

Beth watched her, seeking a clue as to Sadie’s response. Again, that guarded cautiousness.

“Should I call him back?” Sadie asked.

Beth shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt him to run off some energy so he’ll sleep better.”

“What about you? Would you like to go out and play?”

Beth blinked, and blinked again. “Play?”

“Perhaps go for a walk? Enjoy some fresh air?”

Beth’s gaze darted to the window. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She jerked her attention from the window to the bedroom door. Her fingers bunched into tight fists. “I better stay in case Jeannie wakes up.”




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