he murmured.
She shook her head and turned to stare ahead. “I would never abandon my sisters.”
“Sometimes you don’t have any alternative.” Misery edged each word, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps she didn’t care.
“I can’t imagine any reason strong enough except death.” The look she gave him seemed to point out that he was very much alive, so he couldn’t claim that excuse.
His eyebrows went up. She had laid down a challenge—give me a good reason or face my censure.
He could not give her a good reason. That secret remained locked up for Lonnie’s protection as well as his own.
She jumped to her feet. “I’d better get back before Pa comes looking for me.”
He rose more slowly, aching with disappointment, though why it should be so he would have to reason out at a later date. He only knew he wished their time together could have ended differently. He touched the spot on the back of his hand where her fingers had rubbed.
Then he flung his hands apart. Bad enough to be condemned for supposedly abandoning his brother. Think how much worse it would be if she learned he’d been in jail.
No woman would ever touch him in a gentle, accepting way once the truth was discovered. It hadn’t taken many days of freedom to learn this truth. People crossed the street to avoid him. Fathers and mothers dragged their daughters away as if a mere glance at him would ruin them for life. And discovery was always a possibility no matter how far he and Lonnie went. Nor had he forgotten the threat of one Jimmy Stone. Jimmy knew where they lived. He’d made a point of reminding Wyatt of the fact when Wyatt had got out of prison. Wyatt didn’t doubt the man’s intention to get revenge. He wasn’t even that surprised when he heard a man fitting Jimmy’s description had been asking about him. If Jimmy meant to find him, he would, unless they could outrun him. They had to move on as soon as possible to escape their past.
Wyatt had even considered changing their names but drew a line there. He was Wyatt Williams and he’d live and die with that name.
* * *
Cora steamed away. How could Wyatt have left Lonnie, knowing full well the abuse he would suffer? Had he done it to escape his father’s wrath? He claimed he’d had no choice. She snorted. A person always had a choice. Some chose to fulfill their responsibilities. Some chose to abandon them.
All her life she’d lived with not knowing why their papa, as she always referred to the man who had been their father, had walked away from them. She couldn’t even remember their last name. Not that it mattered at all.
What mattered to Cora was that a man had shirked his role as a father. For whatever reason. No doubt he would also say he didn’t have a choice, but she couldn’t believe there was any good reason to abandon three little girls in the middle of the prairie. They would surely have perished if Ma hadn’t been out looking for her medicinal plants and found them.
The twins had quickly responded to her hugs and kisses and the food she’d shared with them from her satchel. Cora had been more guarded. Her papa’s promise to return had sustained her the two days and a night of fear.
Ma had asked a few questions—enough to know Cora’s papa wasn’t coming back.
Agitated by the memories, Cora spun to confront Wyatt, who had followed her. “There is no good reason for abandoning family. Ever.”
“You certainly have very strong opinions about it. But how can you possibly understand? You enjoy your parents’ love and have two sisters to share it with. You simply couldn’t begin to understand.”
“Oh, I understand far better than you think.” She stomped three more paces. She would not blurt out the words on the tip of her tongue, but she knew exactly how it felt to be left behind, and no excuse in this world or the next would be enough. She might just tell him that. She turned again. A hornet flew in her face and she brushed it away. It didn’t leave but stung her on the cheek.
“Ouch.”
Others buzzed around her, a swarm of angry hornets bent on attack. She swatted at them, shook her skirts to discourage them and stepped backward. Her heel caught on a clod of dirt and she fell down hard, smacking her head on the ground.
The hornets buzzed about her, stinging her hands and face.
Wyatt scooped her up and raced for the river. “What are you doing?” She hung on as he jostled her.
They reached the edge of the water and he set her down. “You were standing on their underground nest.” He pushed aside her hair to examine her stings, pulled up her hands to look at the exposed skin. “You were fortunate. Only six stings. Sit here.” He scooped up some river mud and returned to her side. “This is the best way to stop the pain. Close your eyes.”
She did so. There was no denying the stings hurt. He held her chin as he plastered mud on the three on her face.
Her face grew warm. Surely he would put it down to the aftereffects of the stings, not to the sharp awareness of how gently he spread the mud, how firm his cool fingers were on her chin. Yet she felt no fear. He would not hurt her. How could she possibly know that? Hadn’t she learned not to trust so easily? But none of her lessons applied to Wyatt. Or was she blindly ignoring what her head told her?
He released her chin and picked up her hand.
She quietly drew in a calming breath and watched him apply mud to the backs of her hands. “You must have had a good mother.” The words came out of their own accord.
She waited, wondering how he’d respond.
He shook the rest of the mud from his hands and wiped them on the grass, then he raised his gaze to hers.
“I did. But how do you know?” His eyes were almost black as she looked at him, silhouetted against the bright sky behind his head.
“Because you have a gentle touch.” Again, she spoke the truth from her heart without any thought to how he would react.
His gaze held hers, unblinking and as dark as a starless midnight.
She held her breath, waiting for him to speak or shrug or somehow indicate he’d heard and maybe even show what he thought about her words.
He laughed.
She stared. Of all the reactions he might have had, this was the most unexpected. “Why is that funny?”
He stood to his full height and grinned down at her. “Here I was thinking you would find me rough. After all, you have a mother and sisters who would normally tend your needs. I kept expecting you to tell me I was a big oaf.” He laughed again. “A gentle touch, you say. I will never forget that.”
He squatted in front of her. “How is your head? You took quite a fall.”
Her head buzzed from the swirling confusion of her thoughts. Not from hitting the ground.
“I’m fine.” She pushed to her feet. “What about you? Didn’t you get stung?”
He shifted his gaze to a spot over her shoulder. “Nothing to be concerned about.”
