completely by surprise, Joe threw back his head and laughed. It was a rusty sound and just for a heartbeat, Deborah’s expression mirrored his own shock.
A moment later, with Worthless trailing along behind, Hattie joined them. She was smiling at Joe in a way she hadn’t in a long while.
“I heard you laugh all the way across the yard. It’s been a long time since you’ve laughed like that.”
Joe turned away, taking his time tying his reins to the fence post as Hattie fawned over her charge.
“Can you believe it? She knew exactly what to do when I told her to run out and open the gate.”
Joe had a hard time forgetting the scare they’d given him, the panic he’d experienced when he saw Deborah run out of the house on her own.
“Where were you?” Joe demanded. His mother looked flushed and tired, and the idea that something might be wrong with her scared him. “I thought she might have hurt you.”
“I’ll forgive your tone, seeing as how I know that your impatience stems from worry and not orneriness. I was up to my elbows in flour. What was so funny, anyway?”
“She thinks your name is Hattee-Hattee.”
“She spoke? Why, Joe, that’s wonderful. Isn’t it?”
Hattie touched Deborah on the arm, then pointed to herself and waited for the girl to say her name.
Deborah looked from Hattie to Joe and back.
Hattie smiled and nodded encouragement. Joe crossed his arms and figured the girl was out to prove him wrong—or crazy.
“Hattee-Hattee,” the girl whispered.
The years seem to drop away when Hattie laughed and clapped as if it were the greatest feat ever accomplished.
“I’m so proud of you, child!”
“Don’t you think just one Hattie would do?” Joe leaned against the fence post, watching the exchange, afraid his mother’s joy might actually seep into him—if he let it.
“Hattee-Hattee is close enough for now,” she said. “Close enough, that’s for certain.” She reached for Deborah, wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
Deborah slipped out of her grasp and gathered the hem of her dress up to her knees again.
Joe couldn’t help but look down. It was a moment before he caught himself.
“You’d better teach her not to do that,” he advised Hattie before turning around to focus on the cattle milling in the corral, trying to forget the sight of the girl’s well-turned calves and ankles.
“She’s making progress, though. Isn’t she, Joe?”
“Except for the fact that she keeps lifting up her dress. She’s doing better than I expected,” he admitted grudgingly.
“But…?”
“I’m taking a wait-and-see attitude, Ma.”
“Uh-oh,” Hattie muttered.
Joe followed her gaze. Deborah was on her way back to the house on her own.
“If I don’t stop her, she’ll track mud right into the house.” Hattie hurried across the yard, then paused to call out, “I have a feeling she’s going to surprise you.”
As he watched Deborah walk away holding her skirt above the mud like a barefoot queen, he couldn’t help muttering to himself.
“That’s what I’m afraid of, Ma. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
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