A Home for His Family

The door opened behind him.

“Oh, Mr. Colby. I didn’t realize you were out here.”

Nate moved aside to make room for Sarah on the step. The only dry spot in sight. She had already dressed with care, her black hair caught up in a soft bun. Her cheeks were dewy fresh and she smelled of violets. He resisted the urge to lean closer to her.

“I’m an early riser, I guess.” He chanced a glance at her. “I heard water moving and thought I’d check on the state of things. Our wagon is still on the trail back there, mired in the mud by now.”

“I had to see what the weather was like, too.” She smiled at him, and his breath caught. “After yesterday’s storm, this morning seems like a different world. I’ve never seen weather change so quickly.”

“That’s the Northern Plains for you. It can be balmy spring one day, and then below zero the next.”

“I suppose we’ll have to get used to it.” Sarah pushed at a pile of slush with one toe. She wore stylish kid-leather boots with jet buttons in a row up the side. They would be ruined with her first step off the porch. “Your children are so sweet. I’ve enjoyed getting to know them.”

Nate rubbed at his whiskers. “They seem to like you, too. You have a way with children. I’ve never seen Lucy take to anyone so quickly.”

“I hope you’ll reconsider sending them to school when I open the academy next week.”

He shot another glance at her, wary. “They won’t have time to attend any school. They’ll be with me all day. I’ll see they get the learning they need.”

She leveled her gaze at him, tilting her chin up slightly. Nate straightened to his full height, forcing her chin up farther. “Mr. Colby, I’m sure you know children do best when learning in a safe, secure environment. Can you provide that for them while you work to find your ranch?”

“I can provide the best environment they need, and that’s with me.” Nate felt the familiar bile rising in his throat. The busybodies back in Michigan had used the same arguments.

“But what about school?”

“President Lincoln learned at night after a day’s work. Charley and Olivia can do the same.”

“But surely you don’t think—”

“Surely I do think I know what’s best for these children. They’re my responsibility, and I’m going to take care of them.”

She stared at him, her eyes growing bluer as the sun rose higher over the distant hills. And here he’d thought he’d escape these do-gooders when he came west. No one was going to take his children away from him. He slammed his hat on his head.

“I’ll be waking the children up now. We need to work on getting the wagon repaired and head on into town.”

“You can leave the girls here, if you like, while you and Charley take care of the wagon.” She reached out one slim hand and laid it on his sleeve. “You are right, that the children are your responsibility, but that doesn’t mean you can’t let others help you now and then.”

Nate considered her words. She was right, of course. With all the mud and the slogging to town and back to get that axle repaired, it would be best for the girls to stay here and enjoy a day in the company of women, in a clean, safe house. But it galled him to admit it.

He nodded his agreement to her plan. “I’ll take Charley with me. But only for today.” He lifted a warning finger, shielding him from those gentle eyes. “The children stay with me. They’re my responsibility and I aim to do my best by them.”

“Of course you want the best for them. So do I.”

She turned to look down into the mining camp as it stirred to life in the early-morning light. Somehow, he didn’t think her version of what was best for the children would be the same as his.

Chapter Three (#ulink_3d505e26-8ae2-5767-92e4-fa8e894c37b6)

“I can help. Let me help.” Charley hopped on one foot, a flutter of movement in Nate’s peripheral vision.

Shifting his left foot closer to the wagon, Nate shoved again, sliding the wagon box onto the makeshift jack. He ran a shaking hand across the back of his neck.

“Charley, some jobs are just too big for an eight-year-old.” Who was he trying to kid? This job was too big for a thirty-year-old. If Andrew was here...

Nate looked into Charley’s disappointed face. If Andrew was here, they’d still be living in Michigan, and Charley would still have his pa. But a man couldn’t bring back the past, and he couldn’t always fix the mistakes he’d made, no matter how much he wanted to.

He squeezed Charley’s shoulder. “I’ll need your help with the next part, though.” Charley’s face brightened. “We need to get that broken axle off there and find a new one.”

“Loretta can help, too, can’t she?”

Nate looked at the mule, tied to the back of the crippled wagon. It flipped its ears back and stomped its front foot in response.

“I suppose she could carry the axle to town.”

“Sure she could. Loretta can do anything.”

Nate glanced at Charley as he knocked the wheel off the broken axle. Where did the boy get such an attachment to a mule? The animals were outright dangerous when they took it into their heads to go their own way.

He knew the answer to his own question. Andrew had given Loretta to the boy years ago, when Charley was barely old enough to ride. Andrew held that mules had more sense than horses and that she’d keep Charley safe wherever he wanted to take her. Nate had argued, tried to change Andrew’s mind, but Loretta became one of the family.

And now? Charley had already lost so much. He wasn’t going to be the one to take the mule away from the boy. No matter how much he hated it.

Nate fumbled with the ironing that held the axle to the bolster above it. Sometimes he could use a third hand.

“What can I do? I want to help.”

Nate glanced at the boy again.

“Here you go, Charley. Hold the axle up against the bolster while I get it unfastened.”

With Charley’s help, Nate released the ironings with a quick twist, and the axle was free. He glanced at the mule again. It was wearing the pack harness that Charley used for a saddle. It had come in handy on the trail when Nate needed to bring some game back to camp or haul water. Would the thing carry the axle for him?

Nate approached the mule, hefting one part of the heavy axle in his hands. “Whoa there, stupid animal, whoa there.”

The mule rolled its eyes and aimed a vicious bite at his shoulder.

“She knows you don’t like her.” Charley stood off to the side, watching.

“Of course I don’t like her. Help me get these axle pieces on her harness, will you?”

When Charley climbed up onto the animal, Nate was sure the mule winked at him. But it let him load the axle on the harness, and Charley fastened the straps, balancing with his weight on the other side of the mule. Nate looked at Charley’s grin as he perched on the pack saddle. In spite of the work still ahead to get the wagon back on its wheels, Nate had to grin back at him. What he wouldn’t give to be a boy again.

He fixed his eyes on the trail ahead. Those days were long gone.

* * *

Sarah scrubbed the hem of her traveling dress on the washboard. Mud seemed to be everywhere in this place.

“Here’s some more hot water for you.” Aunt Margaret came out the back door of the cabin to the sheltered porch where Sarah and Olivia bent over tubs of soapy water.