Homespun Hearts Read online

  “Look, Ma,” Colton said excitedly, shaking the rattler’s beaded brown tail, making the horse snort and paw the ground. “Smokey said I could eat it for supper.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Riding toward Faith’s wagon at a lope, Luke saw the growing commotion. He plunged into the herd, shouting at the cattle, trying to get through.

  Faith had taken one look at the snake Colton was swinging around and collapsed onto Francis, draped across his lap like a worn rag doll. Startled, the youth fumbled to remove her, not knowing where he should or shouldn’t put his hands. She moaned. As she rolled facedown into the youth’s lap, he wriggled from under her like a scalded cat.

  Trying to sit up, she brushed the hair from her face and looked around groggily. “What ha…?” Her gaze found the scaly reptile Colton still held high in the air, and she promptly crumpled back to the seat.

  “Put that thing away!” Luke shouted as he arrived. He climbed straight from Chiquita onto the wagon seat. Scooping Faith into his arms, he carried her into the back of the conveyance and laid her down.

  Dawn began to cry. Faith struggled to get up, to go to her, but Luke gently pushed her back. “I’ll get her,” he said. “Lie here for a minute or two until your color comes back. I’ll take care of her.” Luke couldn’t miss the I-told-you-so expression as she gazed back at him. Regardless, he was thankful the boy hadn’t been hurt worse.

  He looked over at the crying baby, red-faced and arms waving. Something warm snaked through him, something soft and tender. He couldn’t hold back a smile. “Don’t cry, little girl,” he crooned. Bundling the infant in his arms, he climbed toward the front and stepped out onto the seat. The look on the cowhands’ faces bespoke their grave concern.

  “She gonna be all right?” Smokey asked, obviously contrite. He’d taken the snake from Colton and put it back into his saddlebag.

  Luke bounced and jiggled the tiny infant in his arms, trying to get her to stop crying. Dawn just cried all the harder.

  “Think so,” he said over the infant’s screams. “What am I supposed to do with her?”

  Everyone else’s eyebrows shot up in question. Smokey and Francis looked quizzically at each other. Luke realized he’d get no help from them.

  “How about you, Colton? Got any suggestions?” Up until now the boy had sat quietly on the back of Smokey’s horse. Now that Luke asked him for advice, he seemed to soften.

  “Well, Ma always checks to see if she’s wet first. Have ya done that?”

  “No, I haven’t. You want to come show me how?”

  “No, sir.” Colton wrinkled his face and looked the other way.

  Luke held the squirmy, screaming baby between the crook of one elbow and his hand. Her face was beet red, and he wondered just how long she could keep this up before they all went deaf. Slowly, he lifted the diapering cloth from around one pumping little leg and peeked inside. “Well, here lies the problem.”

  “She bogged down?” Smokey asked.

  “If that wasn’t the problem,” Colton professed loudly, “Ma would try feeding her.” His cocky little smile had returned. “Good thing you ain’t gunna try that.” The boy laughed and slapped his leg, exciting Smokey’s skittish mount. “I’d sure like to see you try.”

  “Quiet,” Smokey said. “Luke needs ta concentrate.”

  “I’m fine now,” Faith called from inside. “Bring her back. Colton’s right, she needs to be fed.”

  “Fine, then,” Smokey announced, as if he’d been the one to come up with the solution. “Everybody’s hungry. Me and Colton will head over to the chuck wagon. I’m sure Lucky will be glad to see we brought some fresh meat to add to the menu."

  After the evening meal, some of the men drifted off to their bedrolls early, but most lingered around the campfire, smoking and swapping stories. Colton’s rattlesnake tale was a favorite and the men had him repeat it again and again.

  Faith sat close to the fire with a sleeping Dawn nestled in her arms. After everyone had their fill of supper, Lucky came around with healthy portions of bread pudding smothered in sweet cream. She was sure going to miss this hearty, tasty fare when they parted ways.

  From her seat by the fire, Faith watched the three McCutcheon brothers discussing cattle, clearly engrossed in the topics of breeding and ranching. Facts and statistics bounced back and forth, each man holding his own. The two-year-old bull the creepy Will Dickson had delivered was the topic most discussed. Matt liked the straightness of his legs, while Luke believed his height and length would be an outstanding cross with their heifers.

  All three McCutcheons were attractive men with a strong family resemblance. But something about Luke was different, and not just his black hair. It was his eyes, Faith decided. They were dark. Wild.

  The tone between the men got heated, volatile, each of them taking turns spouting off. Just as Faith felt the uncontrollable urge to run for cover, laughter broke out. One brother would affectionately jab the other in the shoulder. It was truly amazing.

  Flanked by Francis and Jeb, Chance made his way toward Faith. He was holding something in his arms. “Miss Faith,” the lanky cowboy said, clearing his throat. “We heard that little Dawn was lacking blankets and such, so we took up a collection.”

  Faith felt her throat tighten as she took the items he offered. “Thank you all very much. That was so kind of you.” She couldn’t look at the trio standing there so sweetly; she’d cry for sure. She ran her hand over the stack admiringly. “Very soft,” she murmured.

  “’Tweren’t nothin’, ma’am.”

  She couldn’t agree.

  Matt, Mark and Luke’s conversation had stopped. Mark looked over to Matt. “What do you make of it?”

  “They’re all smitten,” Matt replied, watching Chance hand over the supplies. “Nothing like a little wiggle to make a man go a whistlin’.”

  Luke realized his brothers were watching him, waiting for his response. He nodded. “She’s got ’em buggered up all right. But this job’s too dangerous not to have your head on straight. I don’t like it.”

  Mark stretched his legs. “What do you think she’s really doing out here alone?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out since I found her,” Luke replied. “Her story just doesn’t hold water.” He paused. “On the run, maybe. I can’t think of any other explanation for an expectant mother ready to deliver to be out in the wilderness, with only an eight-year-old boy as her help. Says, though, she has an aunt she’s going to live with.”

  “Could be,” replied Matt. “I’d feel a whole lot better if she did have an aunt. I’ll send a telegram, do some checking around when we hit town.”

  “That won’t do any good,” Luke prophesied. “We don’t have the name of the aunt, or even know where Faith’s from. She’s been pretty closemouthed when it comes to information about herself.”

  Matt and Mark nodded.

  “She seems the most comfortable with you, Luke,” his oldest brother said. “See what you can find out. I don’t like not knowing what she’s all about.”

  The next few days came and went without incident. Since her set-to with Luke over Colton, Faith had kept to herself, giving him a wide berth. To the other hands’ disappointment, she avoided them as well. All except for Francis.

  “We should reach Pine Grove by twilight,” the youth told her that morning at breakfast. “Now’s when we always get to spend this one night in town before reaching the ranch, as sort of a reward. The men draw straws to see who gets to go and who has to stay with the cattle.” He ducked his head. “I’m sure gunna miss ya,” he said sadly.

  This was it. She’d known the day would come when she stayed and the others went on; she just hadn’t thought it would come quite so quickly. Or that she’d feel quite so sad. Time had a way of silently slipping away. The thought of starting off alone again was daunting.

  Luke hadn’t given her so much as the time of day since the morning she panicked about hi
s discussion with Colton. He was polite enough, seeing to her needs, but he kept his distance all the same. She missed him. She missed the safe feeling that just being around him brought. How lonely she would be once the cattle drive pulled out and left them behind.

  Today Colton was driving and he slapped the reins across the horses’ backs, urging them on. They were traveling alongside the herd following the chuck wagon again. Luke had been riding up in front and she’d been watching him for hours, daydreaming. Then he’d loped back, passing them, headed for the back of the herd. He’d tipped his hat as he’d gone by, but hadn’t stopped.

  Now he was back, approaching her wagon from the side. His plaid shirt, tucked neatly into his pants, and leather chaps protecting his lean, powerful legs was a welcome sight to Faith. With his hat pulled low, she couldn’t see his eyes. Behind him he led a small horse that wore a saddle done up with every gadget that the other men carried: hobbles, lariat, canteen, bedroll. The only thing lacking was a Winchester rifle.

  Luke fell in alongside the wagon. Looking to Colton he asked, “You want to ride back and see what Smokey is up to? I’m sure he could use your help.” He offered the smaller horse’s reins.

  The boy’s eyes lit up. “Sure.”

  “Just be careful,” Luke added. “Remember, your horse is only as smart as you are.”

  “Yes, sir, I will.” Colton handed the wagon reins to Faith. Copying the move he’d seen Luke execute, he climbed straight from the wagon seat into the saddle.

  “Her name is Firefly. She’s very gentle, so be kind to her.”

  Colton reined his new mount away from the wagon, smiling from ear to ear.

  “Be careful not to spook the cattle,” Luke called at Colton’s retreating backside. Then he turned to Faith. “She’s really, really old. I’d say he can’t get hurt, but the boy just might prove me wrong again. Let’s just say I’m pretty confident nothing is going to happen.”

  Faith was a jumble of nerves. Conflicting emotions warred within her. It irritated her that Luke had taken liberties where Colton was concerned. Again. He’d never, ever, asked her permission about anything concerning the boy, just doled out orders as if Colton were one of his hired men. Still, deep down she knew this was exactly what Colton needed, a good role model, so she shoved her annoyance aside.

  And, she was so glad to see Luke. Even if it was for just a few short minutes. Today was the last day she’d ever have with him.

  “We’ll pull into Pine Grove tonight,” he pointed out indifferently.

  “I know. Francis told me this morning,” she replied, closing her hands tightly around the reins to keep them from trembling.

  “What are your plans?”

  “To rest for a few days,” she said, “and then head out for Priest’s Crossing. You know, where my aunt lives.”

  Luke pulled out a paper and some tobacco from a pouch and started to roll a cigarette. “What did you say her name was?”

  She hadn’t. Was he fishing for information again? She’d been very careful not to divulge too much, wanting to keep her life to herself. If Ward came around asking questions, they couldn’t pass on something they didn’t know. But now it would seem very suspicious if she didn’t answer.

  “Penelope Flowers.”

  Having answered, she stifled a grimace. What kind of stupid name was that? Luke seemed to agree, for he laughed. The sound was rich and inviting, so Faith smiled, knowing how silly the name sounded. It was also good to be near him again, to hear his voice.

  “Really?” he asked. “That’s one interesting name. And she’s expecting you?”

  She looked into his face. “Yes.” Oh, how she wished it were true. A relative, someone waiting for her. Someone who actually wanted her. Longing ripped her apart, so she looked away before his keen eyes saw the truth.

  “From Pine Grove, Priest’s Crossing is a good three days’ ride north on horseback. Considerably longer in your wagon.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You expect to do that with the baby. Alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I have Colton.”

  Luke shook his head, then glanced out at the herd. Faith could feel his irritation.

  “Faith, haven’t you ever heard of Indians, outlaws, bad weather or a hundred other different things that could easily kill you?” His voice was angry, and she fought the urge to scoot to the other side of the wagon seat, to put some distance between them.

  “Don’t worry about me. I did well enough before you found me. I’d have survived that birthing, and I’ll just do the same now.”

  “Luck. Plain and simple. It was just a matter of time before something happened.”

  “I’m not your concern, Mr. McCutcheon,” she pointed out.

  He ignored this. “How much money do you have?”

  “It’s really none of your business.” If he knew how little she had, he’d probably fall off his horse.

  He considered for a moment, then shook his head. “You’re going to have to wait in town until your aunt sends someone to escort you. A lone woman on the trail is beggin’ for trouble.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’ll do no such thing.”

  “How will you pull your wagon without horses?” he asked.

  Oh. She had forgotten the horses were his. How exasperating. “I don’t know. I’ll work it out somehow.”

  “We’ll see. My bunch won’t pull out until the morning. We’ll talk tonight.”

  Without saying another word, he tipped his hat and rode off after Colton.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luke left six men, the unlucky holders of the short straws, to watch the settled herd. All other hands rode into town with the two wagons. The men were loud and excited. Anticipation for some festivity after weeks on the trail had them singing and carrying on wildly.

  Lucky pulled up in front of the closed mercantile, and Francis, who was again driving Faith’s wagon, followed suit. Matt and Luke dismounted at the hitching rail and tied their horses, looking around. The rest of the men didn’t stop. They continued straight down the street to the Wooden Nickel Saloon.

  Since it was closing time most of the businesses were dark. The air had cooled considerably and there was a slight breeze. Here and there a lantern glowed in a window, and where the shades hadn’t yet been drawn, inhabitants could be seen sweeping and straightening up. Across the street was the Imperial Hotel. It stood gleaming white and polished between the other dilapidated buildings, like a jewel among a bed of rocks.

  “I’ll be down as soon as I get some rooms at the hotel,” Luke said to Matt as he loosened Chiquita’s cinch. “Save me a spot at the poker table.”

  Matt tipped up his hat to get a better look at the good-size town in the fading light. Several streets connected with Main, and the town seemed to be thriving. “This is a peaceful place. No trouble ever came out of Pine Grove.”

  Luke stopped. Listened. “You’re right about that. Still, I have a feeling.”

  Matt slapped him on the back. “Loosen up, little brother.”

  Luke nodded. “You’re right. But we still have a day and a half to reach the ranch, with the Teton River to cross yet. I’d just feel better if we kept our eyes on the men. Don’t let ’em get too drunk.”

  Matt followed after Lucky and Francis, who’d started in the direction of the saloon. Faith was looking in the store window, absorbed with the beautiful bolts of fabric. She rubbed the glass pane and leaned in for a closer inspection. Color was finally returning to her cheeks since the baby’s birth. Lucky’s food was filling her out and giving her a healthy glow. She seemed even more radiant every day.

  Irritated with himself for noticing, and for spending yet another afternoon thinking about her, he turned his attention down the street to the Wooden Nickel, where whoops and hollers could be heard. Swinging doors burst open and a man strode out onto the street. He was tall and lean, fitting his little sister Charity’s idea, Luke supposed, of a handsome fellow. His build and clothing bespoke fa
rm work, but he had a six-gun tied to his leg.

  The stranger nodded amiably to Matt and Francis as they passed. He crossed the street and strode purposely forward. “About time you got here,” he said with a laugh as he approached the wagons. “I’ve been anxious to see you.”

  At the sound of his voice, Faith whirled. She’d been so engrossed looking into the mercantile window she hadn’t heard his approach. Now her face went deathly white and Luke feared she might swoon again. He could see she was speechless.

  It all suddenly made sense. This was the husband she was running from. The one who was supposed to be dead. And Luke wasn’t the kind to step between a husband and wife, no matter the problem.

  “Faith,” the man called, taking a step closer and holding out his hand. “How are you?”

  She looked like a cornered animal searching for a hiding hole. Her gaze flew to Luke, begging for…something. Luke just stood watching the exchange.

  “How? How did you find me?” she choked out.

  Her voice trembled. This was a Faith Luke didn’t know. He’d seen her shy with his men. Angry enough at him to chew nails. Happy and emotional at Dawn’s birth, but never like this.

  “Luke McCutcheon,” he said, stepping protectively between the two, blocking the stranger’s view.

  “Ward Brown,” the man replied, thrusting out his hand. He grasped Luke’s and squeezed with force. But if the farmer assumed he could scare Luke off with just a handshake, he was sorely mistaken.

  “I want to thank you for caring for Faith. Her thoughtlessness has worried us considerably, her being in a delicate way and all.” He glanced at Faith from around Luke. “Not that she might care. I see you done whelped the little one.”

  Damn. He wasn’t one to get between a husband and a wife, Luke reminded himself again. No, he wasn’t. But he sure as hell didn’t like the way this man—husband or not—was talking to Faith.

  “How did you know she was traveling with my outfit?” he asked, buying time.