led Pansy from the tiny abode. As soon as the little one saw Roper, she lifted her hands to her sister and insisted on being carried.
What would it take to get the littlest one to warm up to him? At that moment, Cassie stepped out, head down as she fingered her hair into submission in a ragged bun. Her distraction allowed him plenty of time to study her. Her black hair glistened like sun off water. She had a leanness to her that once made him think her frail. She’d soon disabused him of that notion. She was about as frail as a sapling clinging tenaciously to the side of a mountain in the midst of winter storms and summer heat. His heart sunk to the bottom of his chest. He’d had little success getting her to warm up to him.
Cassie grew still and sniffed, catching the scent of his offering. She lifted her gaze—full of interest until she saw him. Then the interest faded to resistance.
Must she always be so prickly?
“Brought breakfast,” he murmured before she could say anything.
She opened her mouth, glanced around at the expectant children and closed it again as if she needed to reconsider her reaction. “I expect the children are hungry. I’ve got a few more biscuits, as well.” She ducked back inside and reemerged with a pan to put the birds in and tin plates for everyone. “I dug out the dishes from my supplies.” She passed around plates for each.
“Guess I’ll need to build us a table and benches.” He slipped the birds from the spit as he talked and wiped his knife on his pant leg before he set to carving them.
The children watched in total fascination. Even little Pansy, although she kept her face pressed to Daisy’s shoulder, watched his knife slice off portions, drool wetting her sister’s dress. Seems it had been a few days since this bunch had had a good feed. He put a piece on each plate and Cassie added a biscuit. The youngsters perched on logs but no one took a bite.
Roper sent Cassie a questioning look. She shrugged. Then her mouth pursed as if she realized something. “I expect you’re all waiting for someone to say grace.”
Four heads nodded.
“Ma said we should never forget to thank the good Lord for His mercies,” Daisy said.
“I sure am thankful for breakfast,” Billy said. “It smells awfully good.” He swallowed hard.
Roper blinked as every pair of eyes turned to him. “Me?”
“You’re the man,” Neil pointed out. “Ma said it was a man’s job to lead the family. I said grace when Pa was away.” His chest swelled with pride then sank again. “But I’m just a kid.”
The expectation of these youngsters made Roper want to stand tall. Yes, he was a man. One who seldom thought to say grace when he was out on the trail and this wasn’t much different. Not that he couldn’t. But at the cook shack, Cookie or her husband, Bertie, said grace. It had been a long time since he’d spoken a prayer aloud. In fact—
“I could do it if you want I should,” Neil offered in an uncertain voice.
“No, I’ll do it.”
The children reached for each other’s hands. Billy reached for his hand on one side. That left Roper with one hand to extend toward Cassie. He hesitated. Would she refuse this gesture?
Daisy gave them both a look that was half scolding and half confused.
He reached for Cassie’s hand and she slipped hers into his as she darted a look at him from under black eyelashes. One eyebrow quirked as if daring him to read more into this than he should.
A grin threatened to split his face.
She sighed, and nodded toward the cooling food.
Still smiling, he bowed his head. Suddenly his mind went blank. What did Bertie or Cookie say? He should be able to remember. Cookie, especially, bellowed the words loud enough to brand them on his brain. “Dear God. Thanks for the food. Thanks for health and strength.” Cookie normally said more. Sometimes a whole lot more but he must have paid more attention to the aroma of the food waiting his attention than the words because they had disappeared. “Amen.”
The children attacked their food.
He didn’t realize he held Cassie’s hand in a deadly grip until she jerked his arm to get his attention. With an unrepentant grin, he freed her. He held her gaze for several seconds before she huffed and turned to her food. He got a kick out of teasing her.
A few minutes later the children finished and stared at the slower adults.
He felt their unasked question. “What?”
Neil and Daisy exchanged a silent look that spoke volumes.
“Spit it out.” He swallowed the last bit of biscuit and put his plate on the ground before him. “You might as well say what’s on your mind. After all, we’re going to be together for a time.” He figured it would a few days for the Mountie to take care of his business. He hoped he could then persuade the man to leave the children with them while he contacted the uncle. Daisy nodded. “Ma made us promise we’d make sure the little ones are raised right and that we continue some of our practices that both Ma and Pa held as important.”
He guessed Daisy was going someplace with this information but he had no idea where and turned his questioning gaze to Cassie, wondering if she got the drift, but she merely shrugged.
“What practice did you have in mind, Daisy?”
Daisy glanced at Neil who nodded encouragement.
She took a deep breath. “Ma, and Pa before he left, always read to us from the Bible after breakfast. And they prayed for us to have a good day and be safe. You could be like Pa.”
Roper stared. He guessed he looked as surprised as he felt. Being raised in an orphanage, he had no knowledge of this kind of thing. Of course, he knew families had traditions but he thought that meant trimming the Christmas tree or going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for Sunday dinner.
He swallowed hard and clamped his lips together. The idea of playing pa to these youngsters...
It sounded mighty appealing but he had no idea how it was done.
He managed to find his voice. “I got no Bible.”
Daisy turned to Cassie. “Do you?”
She nodded. “I’ll get it.” She hustled to the shelter, and disappeared from sight. They all stared after her.
Roper had to wonder if the children felt as awkward as he. But likely not. This was familiar to them.
Cassie returned and handed him a Bible bound in brown leather. He trailed his fingers over the soft cover.
“It was my husband’s.”
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. He knew she’d been married before. Their first introduction referred to her as a widow. Yet holding this solid proof of a lost love did something unsettling to his insides. “You sure you don’t mind us using it?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t do much good tucked in the bottom of a bag, now does it? Besides,
