The Cowboy Comes Home

She knew he warred with a desire to dismiss her and frustration over dealing with the piles of dirt.

“How?” He made certain to sound as if he was doing her a favor.

“I saw some scraps of lumber in the shed. I think you could use them to provide support. Come. I’ll show you.”

He followed her to the shed and allowed her to fill his arms with bits of lumber.

Back in the garden, she drove the thinner pieces into the ground as uprights and showed him how to place the wider pieces against them and hold them in place with the dirt. As they worked, she told him about the place she’d made in the loft.

She heard a horse trot down the alley and kept her gaze averted to the count of five before she glanced up. Linc on Big Red rode toward the center of town.

He nodded at them, grinning. “Playing in the dirt, I see.”

She tossed her hair out of her eyes. “We’re building.”

“What are you building?”

“I’m not sure. Robbie, what are we building?”

“A fort.” He didn’t pause from scooping dirt against the walls.

Linc looked from Robbie to Sally, paused a moment then returned to Robbie. “What sort of fort?”

“To keep out the bad guys.”

For a moment Linc didn’t move, didn’t say anything and his grin seemed narrower. “Guess we all need a safe place.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Perhaps I’ll see you later.”

Sally waited until he rode out of sight then pushed to her feet. “I have to check on dinner. Call me if you need any help.”

Robbie kept shoveling dirt.

We all need a safe place. Exactly her sentiments. She paused outside the door and studied the house. A good solid house. A safe place? She glanced over her shoulder. Safer than a man on horseback who dropped in from who-knows-where and would likely drop back out as quickly and silently.

She hurried indoors and put the biscuits in the oven to bake.

The meal was ready when Abe stepped into the house. The table was set neatly. She’d put the soup in a pretty tureen in the middle of the table and arranged the biscuits on a nice platter. She’d even found a glass dish for the butter.

Robbie had come in without arguing. He’d dusted his clothes and washed his face and hands. Hardly any evidence remained of his morning spent playing in the dirt.

Sally was satisfied the meal looked as good as it smelled. Everything was done to perfection. As she’d taken care of the many details of creating this meal, she’d taken care of one other thing—sorting out her thoughts. She needed a safe place and this was it. Nothing could be allowed to take that away from her. Especially not a man on a horse.

They all took their places and without any warning, Abe bowed and said grace.

It still startled Sally the way he did it. Father had always said, “Let us pray.” And waited for them all to fold their hands and bow their heads.

Abe did things differently. Nothing wrong with that.

He ate in silence for a few minutes, then, as he broke open another biscuit and drenched it in butter and jam, he said, “I hired a man to work on the barn. I want it converted to a proper garage. The yard could do with some cleaning up, too, so I gave him instructions to fix the fence out back, prune the apple trees and generally take care of the chores.”

“I see.” Abe was one of a handful of people who could afford to pay someone to do repair work for them.

“I don’t have time to show him around so perhaps you would do so. Give him access to the tools in the shed. Make him feel welcome. Perhaps offer him coffee in the middle of the afternoon. That sort of thing.”

“Will he be taking meals with us?”

“I shouldn’t think so. He lives close by.”

She quickly did a mental inventory on the neighbors, wondering which one had been so favored by Abe.

“I think he’s down on his luck. As a Christian man I feel it my duty to give him a helping hand.”

That tidbit didn’t help her. Most of the families in town were having trouble making ends meet.

He pushed back and reached for his hat. “He said he’d come over after lunch. It would please me if you helped him in any way you can.”

Sally waited, expecting a name, but Abe headed for the door. “Wait. You didn’t say who was coming.”

“Oh, didn’t I? Sorry. It’s Linc McCoy. He’s staying at his grandmother’s just next door.” He pointed toward the farm.

Sally’s heart quivered. Linc was coming here to work? Abe expected her to help him? The man did strange things to her equilibrium. Things she didn’t like or welcome.

Abe must have read her hesitation. “There have been cruel rumors about him in the past. This morning I saw Linc in the store asking after a job and overheard some not-so-kind-hearted women saying no one in town would hire the likes of him. Not a very Christian attitude in my opinion. I believe our church should do what it can to dispel such unkindness. As a deacon I intend to take the lead. I hope I have your support.”

“Of course.” Thankfully her voice didn’t reveal her confusion. “It’s very noble of you to give this man a chance.”

Her praise brought a pleased smile to Abe’s lips.

Sally vowed she would do what she could to help Abe’s cause.

Linc considered this job an answer to prayer—an opportunity to earn money to buy more medicine for Pa, but even more, the chance to prove a McCoy could be trusted. Grandmama seemed troubled by the job offer and warned Linc that Sally’s association with him, even indirectly, could harm her reputation. He understood her warning and was prepared to stay as far away from Sally as the large yard allowed. But Abe had told him to go to the house for instructions on where to find tools.

He first toured the yard, noting all the things needing attention. Abe wanted the barn converted to a garage for his car. Linc went inside to study what it needed.

“What are you doing here?” Robbie asked from the dark interior.

“Looking.”

“At what?”

“The barn.”

“You never seen a barn before?”

“Oh, yeah. Lots of them. I could tell you all sorts of stories about barns.”

“Nothing special about barns.”

“Nope. Guess not. Seems a shame to take the stalls out though.”