you couldn’t hit the ball.” She again turned to the bucket of seeds. “Now I must get this garden planted. And I’ve kept you from your work long enough.”
Her words hung in his ears. She seemed to care so much what her father thought. But then, didn’t everyone? His father made it clear he thought Linc didn’t measure up to Harris. Although he didn’t want to be the sort of man his brother had been—rowdy and hard living, caring little for laws or who got hurt in his schemes—Linc did wish his father viewed him as more than a mother’s boy. Too soft for real life. Of course, his father’s version of real life hadn’t exactly worked out well for either him or Harris.
But Sally was right. Work called. He’d promised a day’s work for a day’s pay, and he intended to provide it. He went into the shed, found a ladder and saw and carried them out. Sally bent over a row, dropping seeds into a little trench. He paused, thoughts buzzing in his head like flies disturbed from a sunny windowsill. Noisy but nameless. His heart strained with wanting to say something to her that would—what? He could offer nothing. She came from a good family, and he? He was a McCoy.
Until today it hadn’t mattered so much.
He hurried across to the struggling crab apple trees. Every step emphasized the truth. He was here to take care of his injured father. She had aspirations to marry Abe Finley.
But as he tackled his job, he stole glances at her. She worked steadily, seeming unmindful of the searing sun and the endless wind whipping dirt into her face as she bent over the soil. At that moment the wind caught the branch he had cut off and practically tore him from his perch on the ladder. He struggled to keep his balance, and had to drop the branch. It lodged in the heart of the tree. He jerked to free it, and managed to kick the ladder out from under him. He clung to a solid branch with his feet dangling. The branch cracked ominously, and he stopped trying to pull himself upward.
How inglorious. Hanging like a kitten gone too far out on a limb. “Sally. Could you give me a hand?”
He couldn’t turn to see her, but he knew the second she realized his predicament.
She gasped. “Oh, my word. Hang on. I’m on my way.”
“Hang on?” he sputtered. “I fully intend to.”
She giggled a little as she trotted across the yard. The ladder was heavy and awkward and she struggled to place it in a spot that would enable him to use it. “Try that.”
He swung his feet, found the rungs and eased his weight to them. His body angled awkwardly between his hands and his feet. The limb cracked as he shifted. “Step back in case this breaks.”
“Hurry up and get down.”
He had to let go of the relative safety of the branch and fling himself toward the ladder. He sucked in air, tensed his muscle and made his move. The ladder shuddered but stayed in place. He looked down. Sally steadied it. His heart clawed up his throat. If the branch had broken … if he’d fallen … “I told you to step back.” He sounded angry.
She blinked and looked confused, as if trying to decide if she should obey, then her eyes cleared. “I will once your feet are on the ground.”
He caught two rungs on the ladder on his descent. His feet barely touched the ground before he swung around to face her and planted his hands on her shoulders. He wanted to shake her hard but resisted and gave her only a little twitch. “You could have been hurt if that branch gave way or if I fell. Next time listen to me when I tell you to get out of the way.”
Suddenly, as if obeying his words, she retreated a step, leaving him to let his hands fall to his side.
“If you had fallen and hurt yourself, how would I explain to Abe—Mr. Finley? He gave me instructions to see you had what you needed and offer you coffee. You do drink coffee, don’t you?” Her eyes alternated between worry and interest in his reply.
“Yes, I like coffee just fine.” His anger fled, replaced by something he had no name for. The dark churning feeling in the pit of his stomach made coffee sound bitter.
Her only concern was pleasing Abe, meeting his expectations.
“Fine.” She turned toward the house, called over her shoulder. “I’ll holler when coffee is ready.”
“Fine. I’ll get this tree done.”
Her steps slowed to a crawl and she slowly turned. “Make sure the ladder is secure before you go back up.”
“I don’t aim to break any limbs, except the damaged ones on the tree.” He didn’t even try to keep the tightness from his voice. After all, how could he care for his father and earn enough money for pain medication if he broke an arm or leg?
No sir. He had his priorities straight.
Chapter Four
Sally ground the coffee beans with a great deal of vigor. She had helped him and ended up getting scolded. She should have let the man fall on his head. Might teach him a lesson.
The coffee grinding forgotten, she stared at the far wall of the kitchen. He might have killed himself. Or done serious physical harm. The stupid man. Did he think himself invincible? She shivered as her mind filled with a vision of his battered body beneath the tree.
She sprang to the window to make sure he wasn’t sprawled motionless on the ground. Her breath thundered from her lungs as she saw him astraddle a branch.
She sucked in air, finding her ribs strangely stiff, then turned back to the task of making coffee. She didn’t want him hurt on her watch. Abe would surely think she’d neglected her duties if he was. There was no other reason. But her lungs stiffened again as she thought of looking up in anticipation as he called her name and how her heart jolted when she saw him dangling in midair. The remnant of a panicked feeling lingered behind her breastbone, and she forced it away with determined deep breaths.
She poured the ground coffee into the pot and set it to boil. Carol would soon return from school, and Sally always prepared a snack for the child. Carol was way too thin and barely ate enough to keep a mouse alive. Sally ached for the child, understanding that she mourned her mother’s death. Much as Sally had done for her father.
Linc would have to wait for coffee until Carol got home. She ignored the reason for her decision—there was safety in having both children to hide behind.
How ridiculous. He was only here to do odd jobs for Abe. And she was here to establish how well she could cope. Having focused her goal clearly in her mind, she gave herself a good study. Her skirt carried a liberal amount of dust from working in the garden, and her shoes needed cleaning. Moving toward the plate glass mirror over the couch in the front room, she saw blotches of dust on her face, her unruly curls frosted with the ever invasive brown soil filling the air. “Sally, you look like a homeless tramp. Go clean up,” she said.
A few minutes later, shoes cleaned, skirts dusted, face washed and hair brushed until it gleamed, she paused again in front of the mirror and smiled at herself. Now she’d pass inspection. And just in time, as Carol slipped through the back door. Only because Sally knew enough to listen for her did she even notice her entrance. “Hi, Carol. How was your day?”
“Okay.” She sank into her customary chair at the kitchen table and let her head droop.
“Anything
