“Me, too, Papa,” Amelia said, holding out her slate. “’Course, mine is harder, ’cause Amelia has more letters than Abby.”
“Well, yours will be shorter when she can spell out Abigail,” he told her. “Then you’ll have the advantage, Punkin.”
“Well, hello, Jack,” said her mother, returning to the kitchen. She took the lid off a pot and began stirring. Immediately, a savory aroma filled the kitchen, and Caroline saw him lift his head to sniff.
“Mmm, something smells good.”
“It’s just beef stew,” her mother said, but Caroline could see she was pleased by the compliment.
Her father came in from the post office. “Were you able to go out and see the Waters place?”
Jack straightened and nodded. “Yessir. We can stay for free if we build a dwelling. My men were agreeable—all but a couple, anyway.”
Abby looked up with a pleased smile curving her lips. “So you’re staying the winter, Papa?”
He nodded.
“Hoorah!” the twins yelled in unison, beaming.
Caroline had been watching him as he spoke to her parents, since she could do so without his noticing. When he finished speaking to her father, however, he looked at Caroline, not her father, as if seeking her reaction. She looked down quickly, pretending great interest in the long tail on the y Abby had just scrawled.
“That’s good news, Jack,” her father said, clapping him on the back. “It’s a fine piece of land.”
“Yes…shame what happened there,” Jack murmured.
Caroline winced inwardly. The stories of Comanches attacking William Waters and outlaws murdering his nephew were not tales fit for little ears.
“What happened there, Papa?” Amelia asked, wrinkling her nose in curiosity.
Realizing his mistake, Jack shot a dismayed look at Caroline.
You’d think the man would have learned by now how little pitchers have big ears. “Oh, the house burned down,” she said quickly, “but wait till you see the fine cabin your papa’s going to build there to take its place.”
The girls’ mouths were twin Os. “Why did the—” Abby began.
Before Abby could complete her question, Caroline said, “Girls, why don’t you take this pitcher of cream out to the mama cat in the shed? There’s a bowl out there for you to pour it in.” She handed the little pitcher to Abby. “It’s curdled a little, but she won’t mind.”
The girls scampered for the door, and it banged shut behind them.
“Thanks,” Jack said, his eyes grateful. “Sometimes I forget they’re listening.”
His gaze held hers a moment longer than she was comfortable with, but she couldn’t seem to look away.
“So your plan is to let the children live here while you stay on the ranch land this winter, and then leave them with us when you take off with the herd in the spring?” her mother said, then seemed to hold her breath until he nodded.
“When are you going to start building?” her father asked, also looking relieved.
“Tomorrow, after I stop at the bank and tell Mr. Avery. I didn’t make it back before the bank closed today. I imagine I’ll have to sign some sort of paper,” Jack said.
Her father chuckled. “You won’t find Mr. Avery at the bank. Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
Jack’s eyes crinkled in the corners just as Pete’s had, Caroline thought, as he raked a hand through his hair.
“Guess I’ve purely lost track while we were traveling.”
“I’ll be seeing him tomorrow, though,” her father said, “so I can let him know for you. I’m sure he won’t mind if you go ahead and start working since it’s already so late in the year.”
“I’ll come into town often to see my girls—at least every Sunday, and each time I come into town for supplies. And when the weather isn’t too cold, they could come out and spend some time at the ranch,” Jack assured them.
“Sounds fine,” her mother said. “Why don’t you spend another night here and explain the plan to your girls before you start building tomorrow?”
Caroline saw Jack hesitate. Though he hadn’t been speaking to her, Caroline sensed he was waiting for her reaction—why? It wasn’t up to her to approve or disapprove of what he did.
“As Papa said, we’ll see the bank president tomorrow,” Caroline told him. “The mayor’s daughter, Prissy Gilmore, is getting married, and the whole town will be going to the wedding. I thought the girls would enjoy going with us. Did you happen to bring the rest of their clothing with you?”
Jack nodded, a little uneasily. “I left it in my saddlebags on the step,” he said.
“Would you go get it, please?” Caroline asked. “I’m thinking we might need to launder what they’ll wear to the wedding.”
He arose and went to the door, his steps those of a condemned man walking to the gallows. Brushing off the saddlebags as he entered, he crossed the kitchen and laid them on the table.
“Now, you have to remember,” he began, his tone apologetic, “they didn’t get off the ranch much, and they’ve been traveling with us drovers and the herd…I—I’m afraid there’s not much you’d consider suitable… .”
Caroline opened one saddlebag and dumped its contents on the table, then the other. The saddlebags contained boys’ shirts and pants—and nothing else.
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