his movements were more of a crawl than a run.
She closed her eyes against the fear that claimed her every time she thought of Pa falling.
“Is he hurt bad?” Wyatt’s quiet voice made it possible to talk again.
“He says it’s nothing, but I see the pain in his face when he moves too fast or turns too suddenly. It could have been so much worse.” Her voice broke and she paused to take in two calming breaths. “I saw him fall and thought—” Her throat clogged with tears and she couldn’t go on.
Wyatt unwound from his casual position and closed the distance between them. “God protected him.”
She nodded, grateful for his kind words. “And gifted us with more time with him.” She shook the depressing thoughts from her mind. “Do you have experience with construction?”
“I’ve helped put up a few buildings. Guess I know enough to put the right board in the right place and nail it solid.” His face wreathed in a grin. “If not, I hope you’ll correct me.”
She chuckled. “All I know is what I’ve learned from Pa. But I was only twelve when he built these other buildings, and mostly I handed him nails.” Her amusement grew as she thought of those days. “He let me hammer in a few nails and praised my efforts, but I believe he pulled out the bent nails and hammered them in straight when I wasn’t looking.”
“Sounds like he’s a good father.”
“The best.” A movement caught her eye and she saw Lonnie hiding in the shadows. “Are you going to help, too?” she asked him.
Lonnie ducked his head, as if he didn’t plan to answer, then lifted it and faced her squarely. “I mean to do my share.”
“That’s all anyone can expect, isn’t it?”
Even though he remained in the shadows, she saw a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. The boy seemed hungry for approval. Too bad Pa wasn’t going to be supervising. He was the expert on giving encouragement and approval but she’d be second best if she could.
“The tools are in the shed.”
“I already got them,” Wyatt said, pointing toward the saws and hammers next to the stack of lumber.
“Then let’s get at it.” She headed for the lumber pile. “Stu Maples, who owns the lumber yard, said we’d never be able to build the barn on our own—a bunch of women and a man getting up in years.” She chuckled. “But he didn’t mind selling us the lumber.”
Wyatt grabbed a board, laid it across the sawhorses, measured and cut it. “Lonnie, help me put it in place.”
Lonnie raced forward and grabbed an end.
Cora followed them. As soon as the board was in place, she started nailing.
Wyatt left her and Lonnie to do that while he cut another piece. They soon worked in a smooth rhythm.
“How long have you been here?” Wyatt asked.
“Eight years. Before that we lived in town. But Pa wanted us to be able to grow and produce more so we’d be self-sufficient.”
“Seems you got a little bit of everything.”
“Chickens, sheep, pigs, milk cows, the garden. I guess we have most everything. We make cheese, spin the wool and can the produce.” She knew her voice rang with pride.
Wyatt chuckled. “And you’re very proud of all your family has achieved.”
She straightened and grinned at him. “Guess I make it pretty obvious.”
Wyatt handed her the next board. “I’d say you have good reason to feel that way.”
“It’s my family I’m most proud of. We’re strong and...survivors, I guess you’d say.”
“Huh?” He paused from sawing a board to look at her. “Survivors? Oh, I suppose you mean the Caldwells.”
“That and other things.” Their gazes connected across the distance as he seemed to contemplate asking her for further explanation.
She didn’t mind providing the answer, whether or not he asked the question. “Not all fathers are like my pa.”
Lonnie dropped a board and jerked back, a look of such abject fear on his face that she automatically reached for him. She meant to comfort him, but he threw up his arms as if he expected her to—
Hit him?
She looked to Wyatt for explanation.
He focused on Lonnie. “It’s okay, Lon. No harm done. Just pick up your end again.”
Lonnie shuddered. His wide dark eyes slowly returned to normal and he bent to retrieve the board.
Cora continued to stare at him, then shifted her study to Wyatt. There was something seriously wrong with Lonnie, and if Wyatt planned to stay on the place, she needed an explanation.
Wyatt met her look and shook his head.
She nodded. Now was not the time or the place, but she would be sure to find an opportunity very soon. If whatever caused Lonnie’s fear threatened the safety and security of her family in any way, she would insist they move on.
But would he tell her the truth?
Her experience with men didn’t give her much confidence that he would.
Cora returned to the task of building the barn for another half hour, then straightened. “I’m thirsty. Let’s get a drink.”
Wyatt dropped everything and followed her toward the pump. Even Lonnie didn’t hesitate.
She pumped and Wyatt filled the dipper.
“Thanks. I’m about parched.” He drank three full dippers, then took off his hat and poured some over his head. He shook the water from his face and planted his hat back on his wet head. “That’s better. Thanks.”
Her eyes followed the trails streaking from his wavy, dark brown hair down his sun-bronzed face and dripping off his chiseled chin. Chiseled chin! She snorted. What kind of observation was that? Right up there with her mental description of his chocolate-colored eyes with flashes of evening shadows in them and a certain sadness that she’d noticed before and put down to something in his past that he hid.
She drank from the dipper and considered pouring the rest of the water over her head. It might cool her face, but it would do nothing to cool her thoughts.
She splashed cold water on her face and handed the dipper to Lonnie, who drank his fill. Then, with a grin teasing his lips, he lifted his hat and poured water over his head.
Wyatt stared at him.
Cora
