had seen better days. That observation coming from a cowboy who spent weeks in the same clothes indicated a large degree of wear and tear. Good thing he could count on Linette to help him on that score.
“You stay here. Maybe she’ll come back when I leave.”
Red’s gaze jerked from staring at the flames to look at him. “You’re going?”
“Just to get supplies.”
He dashed across the road to the cookhouse. “Cookie, quick, lend me a bottle of that meat you put up.”
Cookie crossed her arms and looked at him like he’d suddenly sprung a second head. “What for? My cooking not good enough for you?”
He jerked to a halt and swallowed hard. He had no desire to offend Cookie. “I’ve got two hungry females over there.” He gave a wave in the general direction of the cabin.
“Didn’t the boss send you out to bring back his horse and saddle? Instead, you come back with two women?” She sniffed her disdain.
“The horse and saddle are in the barn. Red and her sister are going to stay in the cabin.”
“A horse thief! Whose idea was that?”
“Linette’s.”
Cookie’s scowl disappeared in a wreath of confusion.
“They understand why she had to do it.” As quickly as he could, Ward explained how Red had to rescue her little sister. “And now she’s out in the trees, hiding in fear.” Before he finished, Cookie started filling a basket with jars of meat, bottles of preserved vegetables, fresh produce and some biscuits.
“You tell her to come over in the morning and I’ll have freshly baked cinnamon rolls.”
“I’ll tell her.” He grabbed the supplies and hurried back to the cabin. He dumped meat and vegetables into a cast-iron pot. As he worked, he thought of how Red looked and sounded scared when he said he was going. She’d unwittingly allowed him to see that she liked having him there, though she would deny it with every breath she had. Not that he intended to mention it. He would simply accept it as a step forward. Balancing the lamp in one hand and the makings of a meal in the other, he made his way back to the fire. No one sat beside Red or anywhere around the fire. “She hasn’t come back yet?”
Red shook her head. “Belle?” she called. “Come on, honey. It’s nice and warm here.”
“She do this often?” Ward asked as he fashioned a spit over the fire and hung the pot. He dug a hole nearby and dropped in several hot stones, put a pan of potatoes still in their jackets on top and left them to bake.
“Do what often?” He doubted Red tried to keep the challenge out of her voice.
“Run away.”
“Did you see the little room in the saloon? Well, that’s where she’s spent the last four months. Apart from when Thorton thought to take us out for a walk, and he made plenty sure to hold tight to her hand. So, no, she doesn’t do this often.”
“I’m sorry. I never realized, though I suppose I should have.” He’d seen the little room, even noticed how the window was barred, allowing only slits of light to enter. “She’ll have lots of chance to roam free out here.”
“Hope she doesn’t get lost.”
Ward thought it best to not echo his worry along the same line. After a bit the stew bubbled, and he moved it down the spit to simmer while the potatoes cooked. The smell of food was enough to flood his mouth with saliva. He’d eaten a fair-sized breakfast but nothing since. He guessed Red hadn’t eaten since the day before, and who could guess when Belle had last eaten. He hoped the aromas floating from the pot should soon bring her in. “How’s your leg feeling?”
“It’s fine.”
“I suppose your head is fine, too?”
“Yup.”
“Would you admit if it hurt like fury and your leg pained clear to your eyeballs?”
She laughed, a sound that startled him, expecting, as he was, another fierce argument. “I’ll admit it hurts some, but seeing as there’s nothing for it but to endure, doesn’t seem much point in bemoaning the fact.”
He’d told himself the same thing many times so couldn’t argue. Somehow hearing her say it made him like her just a little. “You will keep an eye on your leg and make sure it doesn’t get infected? If you see any sign of it, let me know. Linette will have ways of treating it.”
“I can manage on my own.”
“I was only being helpful.” He felt her wariness and recalled her earlier words. “And I don’t expect any form of repayment in return.”
“I would pay cash for the use of the cabin if I had any. I don’t. Nor do I aim to repay favors with favors.”
He sighed loud and long. “I would not take either.” He tested the potatoes with a fork. They were cooked. He trotted back to the cabin for dishes, paused to fill a bucket of water at the well. Back at the fire, he handed her two plates, forks and cups.
“Thank you,” she said.
He chomped down on his teeth to keep from saying it was good to see she had a measure of manners. “Call out and tell Belle the food is ready.”
“Belle. There’s food. It smells mighty good. Can you smell it?”
They both waited silently for a sound of the little girl. To his right, the grass rustled.
“She’s coming,” he whispered.
“Ward made lots of stew and there’s baked potatoes. When was the last time you had a whole potato?”
The grass rustled some more, then Belle hovered at the edge of the darkness.
“Come on, honey,” Red urged.
Belle darted glances at Ward as she made her way to Red’s side, going the long way around the fire to avoid having to pass him.
He tried not to let it bother him and failed miserably. Instead, he had to be content with handing them a heaping plate of food. He handed Red a potato. She took it. But when he held out one toward Belle, she shrank back. Red reached for it but Ward withdrew. He wanted Belle to trust him enough to take it from him. After all, he had provided the food. Besides, he was getting tired of being treated like one of the bad guys.
Belle’s fear was palpable, but so was her hunger. He offered her a towel. “It’s hot. Hold it with this.”
She snatched the towel, took another moment to consider the potato carefully, then, doing her best not to touch his hand, took it.
It was a start. Satisfied, he sat down with his own food. “I’ll say grace.”
He didn’t need to look at Red to feel her resistance. But Belle met his eyes steadily a moment before she bowed her head.
He prayed,
