hug, then handed her the plates. The least she could do was prove to these children that not everyone would treat them poorly.
“Breakfast is ready.” The words were barely out of her mouth before Little Joe flung himself from Colt’s lap and grabbed his hand, tugging at him to hurry.
“Eat. Me hungry.”
Colt laughed. “So I see.”
Becca’s eyes widened. She’d never heard the man laugh before, though he had a shy smile and quiet chuckle that seemed to escape often, and likely without his permission. But his laugh did funny things to her insides—making them smile in secret. She jerked her fanciful thoughts back into order as Pa settled at one end of the table and waited for her to sit so he could say the blessing. Guilt stung her cheeks at the way Pa studied her. She sat and bowed her head.
As Pa asked God to bless the food, she asked Him to guard her thoughts. She knew what she must do—honor her promise to her mother. There was no room for wishing for something else.
The food was well received. After several helpings, Little Joe finally slowed down with a sigh.
“All done.”
Becca shook her head. “I can’t believe you ate all that.”
He nodded, flashed a wide grin and patted his tummy. “Full now.”
Colt snorted. “Better plug your ears.” He addressed Little Joe.
“Why?” Marie asked.
“I know there isn’t room for all that food in a little-boy stomach. It has to go somewhere, so I figure it will start coming out his ears.”
Little Joe clamped his hands over his ears and scrunched his face in deep concentration.
Becca laughed. “He’s joshing you.” She sent Colt a scolding look and almost choked as he laughed—his mouth open, his eyes flashing.
He reached over and tapped Little Joe on the shoulder, gaining his attention. “It won’t really come out your ears.”
Little Joe slowly removed his hands, checked his palms. “No food.”
Colt chuckled. “It’s all in your tummy.”
Little Joe looked relieved.
Pa cleared his throat and reached for the Bible he kept on a shelf near the table.
“If everyone is done, we always read a chapter every morning. As my father often said, it’s a good way to start the day.”
Becca settled back to listen. She would miss Pa’s morning reading when she left. Yes, she read her own copy of the Bible, but hearing Pa’s slow, strong voice was part and parcel of her faith.
He read a chapter from Matthew, then closed the Bible. “We always pray for the day ahead of us.”
As Becca bowed her head, she allowed herself a glance at Colt. He watched Pa with an expression combining surprise and what she could only guess was admiration.
“God in heaven, bless us this day. Protect any travelers in the storm. Please see fit to bring an end to this storm so Becca can begin her journey. Take Colt and the children on whatever journey You have for them. Amen.”
Pa drained his cup of coffee and suddenly tipped his head to one side. “Listen to that. The wind has stopped blowing. I do believe the storm has ended.”
For the first time in her life, Becca resented the sun that broke through the clouds and turned the frost on the window to a thousand sparkling diamonds.
Pa rubbed his hands together and looked pleased as he went to the store, hoping for customers.
Colt pushed away from the table to follow her pa from the room. Little Joe scrambled from his chair and raced after him. “Me go, too. Me go with you.”
Marie followed her brother, her eyes echoing his words.
Colt turned slowly to contemplate the children, then faced Becca. “I have to go.”
“Go? As in leave?”
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, as if anxious to be on his way.
“Don’t go,” Marie begged, clinging to his hand.
Little Joe puckered up, ready to set his ear-splitting cry on them again.
Colt swept the boy into his arms. “Don’t cry. Please.”
“You not go?”
The poor man looked torn between a desire to flee and the demands of two little children.
“They’ve lost so much already,” she murmured. “You could at least stay until the stage comes.”
His expression could have been set in stone for all he revealed. Then he nodded. “Very well. I’ll see them safely on their way first.”
“You stay?” Little Joe demanded.
Colt nodded, and Little Joe patted his cheeks lovingly. “You good boy.”
Laughter filled her throat at the child’s innocent approval, and she knew her eyes brimmed with amusement.
Colt looked her way, saw her barely contained laughter and grinned crookedly.
“Must be nice to be appreciated,” she managed, though her words seemed a little garbled by the welling laughter.
“Guess there’s a first time for everything.” Suddenly he turned away and strode into the store, Little Joe clutched in his arms.
“Anything I can do to help?” she heard him ask Pa before the door closed between them.
If she didn’t miss her guess, he sounded desperate.
“I’ll help with dishes,” Marie offered, pulling Becca’s attention from the activity in the store.
But it did not stop her from trying to guess what sent Colt skittering away so fast.
* * *
First time for everything.
As if he felt neglected because only a two-year-old child saw fit to show appreciation. A self-pitying statement if he’d ever heard one. Dare he hope she’d think he was only joshing? But he feared he’d seen a flicker of something in her eyes before he ducked from the room. Whether it was pity or something else, he would not consider.
The storm was over. He should be on his way, but the kids would soon be off to the fort with Becca where they’d be treated kindly...as kindly as mixed-race children could expect, and he knew from experience it was hit or miss—mostly hit of the physical sort, as it turned out.
The outer door blew open and a weathered, bewhiskered man entered the store.
“Seems we survived the first big blow of the season.”
