Montana Cowboy Family

He shook his head hard, sending his overgrown dirty blond hair from side to side. “There’s nothing to say and I don’t need nothing.” He scurried outdoors. It was plain as the nose on his face that he didn’t want to talk to her.

She stared after him. Oh, Father, this child is in need of help. I know it as clearly as I know someone should have helped me. Show me what to do.

At noon, he hurried out to join Logan before Sadie reached the door.

By the time school let out, she knew what she must do. Her only regret was having given her promise to Logan to tell him before she did anything.

As soon as the children departed, she hurried across the street and confronted him. “Look at this.” She handed him the note. “I thought you said Mrs. Weiss had passed away.”

He read the few words. Logan shook his head, as puzzled by the message as she. “I’ve never known Uncle George to be wrong.”

“Something isn’t right and I’m going out there to find out what it is.”

“But she asks you not to.”

“I told you I would not hesitate to visit a family if I felt the need and, in this case, I do. I said I’d let you know and I’m doing that. I fear Sammy is in some sort of danger.” She told him about the bruises she’d observed on Sammy’s arms and the way Sammy had flinched at having his back touched. “I’m certain he’s been whipped hard enough to leave him hurting.”

“You’re sure?”

“Not completely, but I won’t let it go until I know the truth.” Uncertainty filled his eyes as he studied her.

“Very well. If you’re determined to do this, I’ll take you.”

“While I appreciate your offer of help...” Which it had not been. “I prefer to go alone.”

“Why?”

She considered her reply. She could hardly say it was because she didn’t want him hovering at her side making her aware of things she’d sooner not think of. Like the strength of him physically and in other ways. Not to mention that he made her think of how the Marshall family was a model of all the things she thought family should be, but was only a dream for many people. “If the woman is ill, she might not want a strange man showing up.”

“Or the teacher, either, yet you are set on going.”

Challenge upon challenge passed between them.

“Fine,” she said finally, only because she knew he wouldn’t give in.

“Very well. Let me get a buggy from the livery barn and I’ll come back for you.” He was on his way before she got her agreement out. While he did that, she hurried to her quarters and bundled up the cake she’d baked Saturday. At least she wouldn’t arrive empty-handed.

She stood in front of her living quarters, ready and waiting, when Logan drove up with the rented buggy.

Logan jumped down and came around to help her up. He retained her hand even after she was safely seated.

She brought her gaze to his, knew hers revealed her determination and hopefully none of her quaking fear at what they might discover. She couldn’t say what he thought, but his look gave her a jolt of courage...much-needed courage.

He released her hand and she took a deep breath, only to have it rush from her as he climbed into the buggy and sat beside her. They were on their way.

She tried to pretend Logan wasn’t at her side and tried to pretend she didn’t draw some strength from his presence. He wouldn’t be there if he knew the sort of woman she was. Soiled, dirty, ruined.

She shivered at the thought he might somehow learn the truth about her.

* * *

Logan was silent as they made their way down the streets of Bella Creek. Was it just a few days ago he had thought the schoolmarm shy and retiring? Today she was a determined, headstrong woman, ready to walk into an unknown situation in order to protect a child. Was she truly so noble, or was there more to it than that? Or less? Grandfather had warned Logan to be careful not to judge every woman based on his experience with two of them, but how was he to know what lay hidden beneath the prim appearance of Miss Sadie Young? He would not believe anything but his own heart, which wore a permanent warning—a stay-away sign.

Nor would he let the teacher go alone to confront Mr. or Mrs. Weiss or whomever they’d discovered. After all, the family had come from Wolf Hollow, and that alone was reason to be cautious, though he couldn’t help wondering at the mixed information he’d learned. There was something not right.

They drove past the tidy houses of Bella Creek and reached a slightly wooded area where squatters often used the ramshackle house standing there. “I believe this is the place.” He pointed to the right. He hadn’t been past in over a year and it had not improved one bit. The yard was littered with debris. Once it warmed up, the flies would be thick as syrup.

He pulled to a stop in front of the house. A window had been repaired with scraps of wood.

Logan helped Sadie down, “Careful where you step.” Poverty always bothered him. Being careless about taking care of one’s property bothered him even more, because the first couldn’t be helped but the latter could. However, if they’d only recently moved they likely hadn’t had time to clean up. Or if the parents were ill...or worse...there would be no one to do it apart from Sammy and, though the boy was a good little worker, he needed guidance and instruction.

Sadie grimaced. “I understand that some people are content to live like this. I’m not here to judge how Sammy lives, only to see if he’s safe.”

Logan nodded. “Let’s go find out.”

Someone must have surely heard their approach, but no one came to the door to welcome them.

Logan took Sadie’s hand and guided her across the littered yard. She clung to him. He told himself it was only to keep her footing and there was no need to feel all protective toward her. After all, she’d been prepared to come here on her own and would surely have managed fine without his help.

He was grateful she didn’t have to. They reached the door and he rapped his knuckles against the worn wood. From inside came a rustling and a muted voice, but no one came to the door or called out an invitation to enter.

Sadie gave him a questioning look and he shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t hear.” He knocked again, harder this time, and again they waited, knowing someone was inside. “We need to speak to you,” Logan called. “May we come in?”

Silence and then a shuffle of feet, and the door opened enough to allow Sammy to peek through. “Teacher? Mr. Marshall? What’re you doing here?”

Sadie squatted down to eye level with the boy. “I was worried about you and came to make sure you are okay.”

Logan leaned closer to peer through the narrow opening of the door. The interior showed little sign of life—a bare table and an equally bare cupboard. He’d never seen a kitchen with nothing to indicate food preparation. “Can we come in?” he asked when it became apparent Sammy didn’t mean to extend an invitation.

Sammy glanced behind him, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Sadie straightened and turned to Logan. “This isn’t right,” she whispered.

He nodded.

“I’m okay,” Sammy said. “You don’t need to worry none about me.”

“But, Sammy, we are worried.” He knew he spoke for both of them. As he studied the boy, a pair of small feet entered his field of vision. “You have a little brother or sister? And a sick mother?”

Sadie gave him a look full of appeal, seeking his help, perhaps even his opinion. He tried not to let the notion make him feel that she might see him as a man worthy of her respect. Which, he thought with a degree of irony, he was. What he meant was he no longer cared if a woman thought so.

Nevertheless, he listened to her silent call for help and shouldered the door open, the squawk of its rusted hinges rending the silence.

Sammy stepped back. An older girl pulled him close while, in her other arm, she held a smaller girl. The older girl wore shoes with the toes cut out to accommodate her feet. Her dress had a tear in the skirt and was almost colorless from frequent washings. The little one was barefoot and her faded pink dress was equally worn, yet they were both surprisingly clean.

In a glance Logan took in the room—a bed with no mattress and only a scattering of blankets. A narrow wooden table sagged to one side, and nearby was a single chair with rungs missing in the back. Again he was struck by how empty the place was of belongings. Or any sign of domesticity. Not a curtain. Not a dish. Nothing.

“Where’s your mother? Your father?” Sadie’s words were surprisingly gentle considering the state of the place and the children.