He shifted his bags until their weight fell evenly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My son John has been dogging your heels these last weeks. I’m surprised you put up with it.”
Jake didn’t imagine it pleased her, either, to have the boy spending time with him. “He hasn’t made a pest of himself.”
Curious, Anne studied his face.’ ‘That’s a kind thing to say, Mr. Redman, when I’m sure he’s done just that.”
“Johnny was born a pest,” Liza put in, earning a slow, measured look from her mother.
“It appears my children have that in common.”
With Liza effectively silenced, Anne turned back to Jake. “He’s been going through what most boys his age go through, I expect. Fascinated with guns, gun fights. Gunfighters. I don’t mind saying it’s given me some worry.”
“I’ll keep my distance,” Jake said, and turned to leave.
“Mr. Redman.” Anne hadn’t raised two willful children without knowing how to add the right tone of authority to her voice. “I’ll have my say.”
“Ma.” Both Liza’s cheeks and voice paled when she saw the look in Jake’s eyes. Cold, she thought, and moistened her lips. She’d never seen eyes so cold. “Maybe we should let Mr. Redman be on his way.” “Your mother’s got something to say,” Jake said quietly. “I reckon she ought to say it.”
“Thank you.” Pleased, Anne drew off her riding gloves. “Johnny was real excited about what happened here between you and Burt Donley.”
“Mrs. Cody,” Sarah began, only to be silenced by a look from both her and Jake.
“As I was saying,” Anne continued, “Johnny hardly talked about anything else for days. He figured having a shoot-out made a man a man and gave him something to strut about. Even started pestering his pa for a Peacemaker.” She glanced down at the guns on Jake’s hips. “Wooden grip, he said. Nothing fancy, like some of the glory boys wear. Just a good solid Colt. Mr. Cody and I had just about run clean out of patience with the boy. Then, just yesterday, he came home and told me something.” She paused, measuring her words. “He said that killing somebody in a gunfight or any other way doesn’t make a man grownup or important. He said that a smart man doesn’t look for trouble. He walks away from it when he can, and faces it when he can’t.”
For the first time, Anne smiled. “I guess I’d been telling him pretty near the same, but it didn’t get through coming from me or his pa. Made me wonder who got him thinking that way.” She offered her hand again. “I wanted to tell you I’m obliged.”
Jake stared at the hand before taking it. It was the kind of gesture, one of gratitude, even friendship, that had rarely been made to him. “He’s a smart boy, Mrs. Cody. He’d have come around to it.”
“Sooner or later.” Anne stepped toward the door of the house and then she turned back. “Maggie O’Rourke thinks a lot of you. I guess I found out why. I won’t keep you any longer, Mr. Redman.”
Not quite sure how to respond, he touched his hat before he started toward the paddock to saddle his horse.
“That’s quite a man, Sarah,” Anne commented. “If I were you, I’d want to go say a proper goodbye.” “Yes, I…” She looked at Anne, then back toward Jake, torn between manners and longings.
“You won’t mind if I fix tea, will you?” Anne asked as she disappeared inside.
“No, please, make yourself at home.” Sarah looked toward Jake again. “I’ll only be a minute.” Gathering her skirts, she ran. “Jake!” He turned, the saddle held in both hands, and enjoyed the flash of legs and petticoats. “Wait. I-” She stopped, a hand on her heart, when she realized she was not only out of breath but hadn’t any idea what she wanted to say to him. “Are you… When will you be back?”
The mustang shifted and nickered softly as Jake settled the saddle in place. “Haven’t left yet.”
She hated feeling foolish, and hated even more the idea that he could swing onto his horse and ride out of her life for days at a time. Perhaps patience would do the job.
“I was hoping you’d come back for supper.”
He tossed up a stirrup to tighten the cinch. “You asking me to supper?”
“Unless you’ve something else you’d rather be doing.” His hand snaked out, fast and smooth, to snag her arm before she could flounce away. “It’s not often I get invitations to supper from pretty ladies.” His grip firm, he glanced back toward the house. Things were changing, he decided, and changing fast, when he looked at the adobe cabin and thought of home. He still didn’t know what the hell to do about it. “If I’d known you’d need so long to think about it,” Sarah said between her teeth, “I wouldn’t have bothered. You can just-” But before she could tell him he swept her off her feet.
“You sure do get fired up easy.” He brought his mouth down hard on hers to taste the heat and the honey. “That’s one of the things I like about you.” “Put me down.” But her arms encircled his neck. “Mrs. Cody might see.” Then she laughed and kissed him again as he swung her down. “Well, will you come to supper or not?”
He vaulted into the saddle in one fluid, economical motion. His eyes were shadowed by the brim of his hat when he looked down at her. “Yeah, I’ll come to supper.”
“It’ll be ready at seven,” she called after him as he spurred his horse into a gallop. She watched until dust and distance obscured him. Gathering her skirts again, she ran back to the house. The laughter that was bubbling in her throat dried up when she heard Alice’s weeping.
Liza stood by the stove, the kettle steaming in her hand. “Sarah, Ma’s…” But Sarah was already rushing up the ladder, ready to defend the girl.
Anne Cody held the weeping Alice in her arms, rocking her gently. One wide, capable hand was stroking the girl’s dark hair.
“There now, honey, you cry it all out,” she murmured.
“Then it’ll be behind you.” Wanting quiet, she sent Sarah a warning glance. Her own eyes were damp. Slowly Sarah descended the ladder.
“Alice called for you,” Liza explained, still holding the kettle. “Ma went up to see what she needed.” Liza set the sputtering kettle aside. Tea was the last thing on her mind. “Sarah, what’s going on?”
“I’m not sure I know.”
Liza cast another look toward the loft and said in a low voice. “Was she…that girl…really beaten?” “Yes.” The memory of it had Sarah touching a fingertip to the bruise under her own eye. “Horribly. Liza, I’ve never known one person was capable of hurting another so viciously.” She needed to be busy, Sarah decided. There was too much to think about.
Her father, the mine, Jake, Alice. After running a distracted hand over her hair, she began to slice honey cake.
“Did she really work for Carlotta?”
“Yes. Liza, she’s just a girl, younger than you and I.”
“Really?” Torn between sympathy and fascination, Liza edged closer to Sarah. “But she… Well, I mean, at the Silver Star she must have…”
“She didn’t know anything else.” Sarah looked down at her hands. Honey cake and tea. There had been a time when she had thought life was as ordered and simple as that “Her father sold her. Sold her to a man for twenty dollars.”
“But that’s-” The curiosity in Liza’s eyes heated to fury. “Why, he’s the one who should be beat. Her own pa. Somebody ought to-” “Hush, Liza.” Anne slipped quietly down the ladder. “No one deserves to be beat.”
“Ma. Sarah says that girl’s pa sold her. Sold her off for money, like a horse.”
Anne paused in the act of brushing down her skirts.
“Is that true, Sarah?”
“Yes. She ran away and ended up at the Silver Star.”
Anne’s lips tightened as she fought back words that even her husband had never heard her utter. “I’d dearly love that tea now.”