Debra Holland - [Montana Sky 02] (30 page)

Her grasshopper.
She smiled a greeting. “Hello, Daniel.”

“Mama, we’ve finished. Come see.” He bobbed up and down, face flushed, his blue eyes alight with eagerness.

Relief relaxed her. He wouldn’t be so happy if Ben and Arlie had continued to be mean to him. Not that Wyatt or Nick Sanders would allow that. But still, the men couldn’t be with each boy every moment.

She applied the brake and stepped down, looping the buggy reins to the hitching post. “Lead the way.”

Daniel bounced beside her, spilling out the story of his day. Obviously he felt very important about having been allowed to help the men.

For a moment, sadness twisted inside Samantha. Daniel desperately needed male guidance. Unlike many men, Juan Carlos had been an active parent, spending a lot of time with his son, and having endless patience for the boy’s energy—matching Daniel’s high spirits with enthusiasm of his own.

She sighed, once again missing her husband and the sense of family the three of them had together. As they came around a clump of bushes, she shook her melancholy thoughts away.

Wyatt and Nick stood, both in identical poses, arms crossed over their chests, studying the results of their work. In front of them, a small sturdy building made a perfect privy, complete with the crescent moon carved into the door. Ten feet away, a raft of nailed-together planks covered the filled-in midden, where a faint odor still lingered in the air. Hammers and saws poked out of a cowhide sack near the outhouse.

Ben and Arlie sat in the shade of a cottonwood tree, looking tired, sulky, and patched with dirt, their backs against the trunk. The twins were busy scooping up wood chips and stacking the longer pieces of wood in a neat pile.

Samantha suppressed a smile. Arlie and Ben had the sullen looks worn so often by her twins, while Tim and Jack eagerly finished their cleanup job. What a change.

The men turned at her approach. The twins dropped what they were doing and rushed over. Jack reached her first. “Miz Samantha, see what we done built.”

Tim pointed to the door with its moon. “Mr. Sanders did that. And I helped.” His chest expanded two inches.

Daniel tugged on her arm. “I did the back part. Come see.”

“All of you did a wonderful job.” She included the men in her praise. “It’s the best outhouse I’ve ever seen.” She allowed Daniel to yank her along three feet to view the back of the structure. She rubbed her hand over the boy’s head. “Well done, son.”

Jack scuffed a clump of grass with his boot. “Think we could build us a new one at the ranch?”

Samantha couldn’t help the rush of pleasure that stretched a wide smile across her face. “I think a new outhouse would be marvelous.” Somehow she’d find the money.

Her eyes met Wyatt’s. Amusement glinted in his gaze. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment of their silent communication. For a moment a connection lingered between them.

Her heartbeat quickened; she could feel her cheeks glow.

From behind them, Edith Grayson’s voice cut, knife-sharp. “What is the meaning of this?” She lifted her brown silk skirt, picking her way over the dirt path to join them. The froth of lace pinned at the neck of her matching shirtwaist trembled with her indignation.

Wyatt stepped forward, his hands in a placating gesture. “Now, Edith—”

“Don’t you speak to me in that patronizing manner, Wyatt Thompson. I want to know what my son is doing out here, dressed in those”—her nose pinched in distaste—“rags, instead of being in the classroom where he belongs?”

Wyatt took a visible breath. “All the boys worked with Sanders and me to build—”

“My son, a common laborer!”

“Your son, an honest worker.”

Edith’s bosom swelled; red flooded her cheeks. “How dare you.”

“Mrs. Grayson, your brother Livingston and I agreed that the boys’ rebuilding of what they’d destroyed would be a suitable punishment. That and extra studying.”

“I’ll certainly have to speak to my brother.”

Although Samantha didn’t really like Caleb Livingston, she could pity the man. She wouldn’t want to be in his boots when his sister lit into him.

Throwing a venomous glance at Samantha, Edith said, “This is all your fault. If you hadn’t taken in those, those scalawags…” She waved a hand toward the twins. “None of this would have happened.”

Anger spiked in Samantha. “If your son hadn’t been bullying my son, none of this would have happened.”

“Well.” Edith’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. She glared at Wyatt. “Are you going to let her speak to me that way?”

He frowned at her. “You brought that remark on yourself, Edith.”

He cocked a playful eyebrow at Samantha, and gave a half grin, the one that never failed to reach her.

In spite of her anger with Edith, Samantha couldn’t help but soften toward him.

As he addressed Edith again, Wyatt’s expression dropped into seriousness. “I believe after what you said about Mrs. Rodriguez’s twins, you should consider yourself as having gotten off lightly.”

Edith’s brown eyes narrowed, drawing her brows together. “I’ve had enough of this,” she huffed. “I’m going to speak to the school board about reprimanding Miss Stanton.” She threw another dart at Samantha. “And about expelling those boys of yours.”

Watching the coldness in Edith’s brown eyes, Wyatt wondered how he ever had found her attractive. His first instinct was to hustle the woman away before she tossed any more kindling on the fire she’d set.

Samantha clenched her fists. “How dare you.”

Edith ignored her. “Come, Ben.” She whirled and stalked off, her back stiff with outrage.

Samantha turned to Wyatt; her blue eyes pleaded for reassurance.

He stepped forward, taking her hand and pressing it. “I’m sorry she attacked you like that, Samantha.”

Nick cleared his throat. “Now don’t you worry, Miz Rodriguez. John Carter’s on the school board, and he’s more than a match for Miz Grayson.”

Wyatt nodded. “Edith doesn’t realize that I’m on the school board. If there’s a meeting, we’ll just explain that the boys have served their punishment. I’m sure the board will let the matter drop. Besides, we saved the rest of them from having to go to the time and trouble of puttin’ up a new outhouse.”

A glance at the twins’ troubled faces told Wyatt they’d taken Edith’s words hard. Daniel had lost his happy glow and pulled in on himself. A sudden shaft of empathy stabbed him. He remembered being a boy, standing alone, facing adults who’d belittled him. Wasn’t a good feeling.

Samantha stepped in. “Well, boys. We’d best be getting home. I believe Maria has baked cookies.”

The promise of the treat failed to move them.

She held out her arms. Daniel ran to her. She caught him in a maternal embrace. The twins followed more slowly. But they crowded close enough for a four-way hug, cheeks brightening with evident pleasure and embarrassment.

Wyatt’s throat closed, wondering what it would have been like to have a mother’s love and support, instead of the indifference from the drunken prostitute who’d birthed him, then basically let him run wild.

Samantha leaned over, resting her chin on Jack’s head for a brief moment. “You’ve all done a good job here, boys. We’ll have to start planning for a new outhouse at our ranch. Think you can do it all by yourselves?”

Wan smiles replaced their scared looks. Samantha stroked Daniel’s hair, brushed the back of her hand across Tim’s cheek, reached out and squeezed Jack’s shoulder. “Come on.”

Wyatt moved closer, wanting to share in the warmth of the circle. “You’ve all done good work. I’d hire you on any day.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” He could see the effort she made to keep her voice light. “They’re my hands. I couldn’t do without them.”

He strove to match her tone. “Maybe someday I’ll hire them out from under you.”

Or maybe someday we’ll be a family.

In the crisp June morning air, Wyatt stood with Christine’s hand clutched in his. As he stared at the ruin of the school outhouse, rage rose from his chest into his throat. When Christine
had insisted on a proprietary inspection of the privy they’d built yesterday, he’d never dreamed what they’d find when they’d rounded the bushes. But the odor of smoke should have warned him.

Only charred wood, black and gray ashes, and a few smoldering embers remained of the compact little building that he, Sanders, and the boys had hammered into place yesterday. Even the lilac bushes bore scorch marks and shriveled leaves, evidence of the fire.

He glared upward, trying to control his anger. Innocent puffy clouds floating in the azure sky only served to contrast with the darkened remains in front of him.

At his side, Christine burst into tears, forcing him to shelve his feelings. He squatted down, pulling her toward him. “Shush, sunshine, don’t cry.”

“But, Pa, it’s all burnt down,” she wailed.

“I know. But I’ll rebuild it for you.”
And catch the culprits who did it.

She pressed her face into his shirt, sobbing, shoulders shaking.

Helplessness gripped him. His daughter didn’t cry very often, but when she did, it seemed, like of Mrs. Toffels’s cakes, she had layers of hurt and fear. As always, when his first solution wouldn’t fix things, he flapped around with ineffectual words, feeling like a pillowcase strung out to dry on a windy day.

A gasp behind him made him glance up. Flanked by the twins and Daniel, Samantha covered her mouth with one black-gloved hand. Her distressed blue gaze flew back and forth between the ruin and Christine. “What happened? Is she hurt?”

“She’s upset about the fire. I told her I’d build a new outhouse, but she won’t stop crying.”

“Poor child, a lot has happened in the last few weeks, and she probably has quite a bit stored up inside.” Samantha stepped closer. “Let me try.” She touched Christine’s shoulder. “Christy, dearest, tell me what’s wrong.”

The words poured out, muffled against his shirt. Wyatt couldn’t make out one in five. Daniel, trouble, twins, Pa, anger, privy. He couldn’t string them into sentences with meaning.

Samantha seemed to have no such trouble. She nodded in understanding, and in talking back to Christine, also managed to translate for Wyatt. “You’re upset that someone burned the beautiful outhouse your pa and the boys built.”

Sniff.

“You’re afraid the boys will be in trouble again?”

Christine nodded, her sobs starting to quiet.

Magic. How did Samantha do it? Must be one of those woman things.

“Your pa’s angry and that frightens you.”

Another sniff and nod.

That response caught Wyatt by surprise. How did she know he’d been enraged? He hadn’t said a word. And why would that scare her? Shame followed. He wouldn’t hurt a hair on his daughter’s head. Didn’t she know that?

Samantha rubbed the back of Christine’s head. Her other hand squeezed Wyatt’s shoulder. “I’ll bet you don’t see your pa angry very often, do you?”

A shake of her head, nose still burrowing into his chest. At least she’d stopped shaking.

“I remember when my father was angry, he’d get this look in his eyes, and his face would get all hard. That would scare me. Especially if he was upset with
me
.”

That statement spurred Wyatt into talking. “I’m not upset with you, sunshine,” he murmured. “Just whoever did this. It wasn’t right, especially after how happy the boys were with their work. That’s why I was angry.” He lightened up his tone, trying to make her laugh. “I was like Warrior the bull, right before he charges. Can you see me with two horns, swishing my tail?”

That did it. She looked up. “Oh, Pa.”

Christine glanced around, saw Daniel watching her, his eyebrows drawn up, concern in his blue eyes, and tucked her head back into Wyatt’s shoulder.

Once again, Samantha seemed to understand. “Daniel won’t be in trouble. He was home at the ranch when all this happened.”

Christine tilted her head slightly, one blue eye looking up at Samantha.

“Daniel’s safe, I promise.”

With a sideways move of her chin, Samantha signaled to Daniel.

He shuffled closer, patting his friend on the shoulder. “We’ll build you a new outhouse, Christine. Better than the ole one, right, Mr. Thompson?”

“Right, Dan.”

The boy’s promise did the trick. Christine pushed away from him, her face already brighter in spite of the tearstains.

How come Daniel could make his daughter the exact same promise that he had, yet it worked for the boy and not for her very own pa?
he complained to himself.

But he knew the answer. There were a lot of feelings sandwiched between the two offers. Guess a girl needed to talk it out. He stored the knowledge in his brain. Something like that was
good for a man to know, both in dealing with daughters, and—he glanced at Samantha from the corner of his eye—grown women
.

Christine looked up at Daniel. “Can we put a moon
and
some stars on the door?”

“Yep.”

Christine slid closer to Daniel. “Good.” She smiled at the boy.

That’s right, Dan. Promise her the moon and stars if it will make her happy. The boy was learning early.