Debra Holland - [Montana Sky 02] (10 page)

Except for requests for refills, they ate the meal in silence, everyone too hungry to talk. Then, with the edge off his hunger, Daniel began to rattle on about the boys’ doings and asking plenty of questions of Wyatt.

Samantha felt pleased to see how patiently the man responded. Her father-in-law had always brushed Daniel’s questions aside or ordered him to be quiet—a cruel thing to do. Silence had never come naturally to her son.

Samantha waited until the boys were well into their apple pie. “School tomorrow for you three.”

Resigned to the inevitable, Daniel shrugged his shoulders.

Jack kept his eyes on his plate. “Ain’t goin’ to no school.”

Tim mumbled around a mouthful of pie. “Me either.”

Samantha strove for a light tone. “Of course you are. School’s important.”

Ducking his head, Jack answered, “Our pa had no use for book-learnin’. Said would just make us ’uns lazy cusses.”

Across the table, Wyatt’s gaze met hers. She looked away, wishing he wasn’t witnessing her first power struggle with the twins. She didn’t want him to think he’d been right about her taking the boys in. Nor did she want him to intercede. She had to handle this herself. “Have you two ever been to school?”

“When us ’uns was little, when Ma was alive,” Tim said.

“Sounds like getting an education was important to your ma. Don’t you think she’d want you to attend school, now that you have a chance?”

Jack shook his head. “Ain’t goin’ to no school.”

“Me either,” Tim agreed.

She remembered her earlier attempts to get them to wash up. She needed a bribe. Though she didn’t like to resort to that kind of mothering, sometimes it was necessary. “Before I take you to school,” she said to Jack, “we’re going to stop at the mercantile and get you some new clothes and school supplies.”

“Don’t need no new clothes. Ain’t goin’ to school.”

“But wouldn’t you
like
new clothes? New shoes?”

Across the table, Tim swallowed, obviously wavering.

As if sensing that his brother was weakening, Jack pressed his lips into an obstinate line. “Us ’uns ain’t goin’ to no damn school!” He shoved his empty plate across the table, knocking it against the vase of tulips. Several spilled out.

Samantha gasped.

As the vase teetered, Wyatt’s arm snaked out, his hand clutching the glass before it tipped over.

With slow precision, Wyatt righted the vase. Then he threw down his napkin, scraping back his chair. He strode over to Jack, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and swiveling him around in his seat. “That’s enough of that language and behavior. There are ladies present.”

Maria jumped up and leaned over the table to pick up the scattered blooms.

Wyatt dragged the chair away from the table so Maria could have more room. “You two are going to school if I have to ride over, hogtie you, and drag you to town. Is that clear?”

Jack nodded, the previous day’s sullenness returning to his face.

Wyatt looked over at Tim for his agreement.

Tim nodded, misery on his face.

As soon as Wyatt had gotten up, Samantha’s stomach had started churning. Although relieved at the twins’ acquiescence, she felt annoyed with Wyatt for interfering. With more persuasion, surely the boys would have agreed to go to school.

But what if they hadn’t?

Samantha pushed the thought away. She needed to have a firm talk with Wyatt.

Wyatt sank the last nail into the porch. With a weary sigh, he wiped his face with his sleeve and sat back against the reinforced railing. In a few minutes he’d need to leave to fetch Christine from school, but for now he savored the peacefulness, although life on a ranch was never entirely quiet.

He could hear the rush of the river as it sped away from the nearby mountainside. At the goat corral, bleating testified to the presence of the animals herded over that morning. In the house, the women conversed in Spanish, the soft words rolling around each other.

He wondered how things were faring on his ranch. He had plenty to do there, yet here he was fixin’ up someone else’s property. Your future property, he reminded himself.

Through the open door, he heard footsteps.
Samantha.
He climbed to his feet.

She came outside. “Mr. Thompson, would you like some lemonade?”

He turned to face her.

She held out a glass. Their hands touched as he took the glass, and she blushed.

He nodded his thanks and drank, grateful for the bite of the tart liquid. After he’d drained the glass halfway, he paused, surveying Samantha. The stained and dirty apron she wore over her black dress a testament to her hard work. Dust feathered the line of her jaw just below her cheek.

Before he could stop himself, he reached over. With one finger, he brushed her face, tracing the smudge. An unexpected shock of energy raced up his fingers. He cupped her chin, wishing he could coax her forward and kiss her.

As if Samantha felt it also, her eyes widened and her soft pink lips parted. Then she stepped back, distancing herself.

“You have dust on your face. I was just wiping it off.”

“Oh.” She picked up the edge of her apron and scrubbed her skin. Was she trying to wipe away his touch?

Red cheeked, she let her apron fall. “Better?”

“Yes.” Better that he not let a smudge of dirt entice him.

Samantha took a deep breath.

He watched her bosom rise and fall. She would look lovely in a low-cut dress. Pale-blue silk. Like Alicia’s favorite. But the memory of his wife cooled his thoughts. He lifted his glass, gulped down the remainder of the lemonade, then handed the glass back to her. “Thank you. I’d best be goin’. Need to fetch Christine.”

“Mr. Thompson.” Samantha clasped both hands in front of her.

“Call me Wyatt.”

“Wyatt. I want to thank you for all you’ve done for us. You’ve been a good neighbor, and I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“Out here we all look out for each other.”

“Still, I’m very grateful.”

He looked around, seeing all the work to be done. “You might have bit off more than you can chew.”

She stiffened. A flash of annoyance replaced the gratitude he’d seen in her eyes. “I have iron teeth.” She bared them at him.

He couldn’t help the laugh rising from his belly. She had a temper, this one. “It isn’t your ability to bite that I’m doubtin’.”

She lifted her chin.

“Those twins are a handful. It’s only goin’ to get worse since you don’t have a man around to keep them in line.”

“You’ve made your opinion known.”

Her tone froze his laughter. “But you haven’t listened.”

“I don’t need your advice, nor your interference with the twins.”

“Interference?” Anger coiled around his chest. Didn’t the woman realize she’d taken on too much? She’d never be able to handle those boys.

“I would have gotten them to change their minds about school. I just needed a little more time. Then
you
stepped in.”

“Good thing too. ‘I ain’t goin’ to no school’,” Wyatt mimicked Jack. “He’d dug his heels in like a stubborn calf. When that happens you just have to rope ’em in.”

“The boys aren’t animals.”

“Sometimes they act like it.”

“They can be taught civilized manners.”

“I’m not sayin’ they can’t be tamed a bit.” In the midst of his annoyance with her, he still admired how anger flared Samantha’s prettiness into beauty. Her blue eyes sparked, peach animated her pale skin, and her fiery hair almost crackled around her head in a corona. Her bosom heaved with indignation. It was almost worth arguing with her just to see her response. “Just that you’ve taken on a lot of responsibilities.”

“I can handle them.”

Stubborn woman.

“The boys must learn to mind
me
,” she said. “And they won’t do that if you keep stepping in.”

He raised both hands in surrender. “Fine. You deal with them. Just don’t come to me when they’re runnin’ wild, and they’ve taken your boy with them.”

“You need not worry about that.”

He swiped his hat off the rail and set it on his head. “Good day, Mrs. Rodriguez.” He turned and strode away without a backward glance.

Fine. Let her stand or fall on her own. If she falls, I’ll buy her ranch.

Yet for some reason that thought no longer gave him the same sense of satisfaction it once might have.

Daniel’s fidgeting increased the closer they came to town. When his elbow stabbed into her side, Samantha released an impatient breath. Transferring the reins of the buggy into one hand, she patted his knee. “Daniel, why are you so wiggly?”

He shrugged, but his eyebrows winged upward, a sure sign of distress.

Trying to reassure him, she said, “I remember every time I had to attend a new school in a new country, I was nervous. It’s not easy…not knowing the routine, not having friends. At least you know the language.”

He glanced up at her, his blue eyes vulnerable. Her heart twisted. When they’d lived in town in Argentina, Daniel had enjoyed school. He’d had plenty of friends and a kind teacher. But on the estancia the tutor favored the other grandchildren. His cousins had been cruel or indifferent, and over the last two years, she’d watched her son’s cheerful cockiness steadily erode.

She squeezed his knee. “It will be different here. You’ve already made friends with Christine.”

“Aw, she’s a girl.”

Samantha’s lips twitched in an attempt to hold back her smile. “What about Jack and Tim?”

“They don’t like me.”

“They will. Just give them time.”

“What if they don’t?”

She understood his unspoken words. His cousins never had.

She looked over at the twins, each riding one of Ezra’s horses. Both rode with easy competence, slightly slumping in the saddle, bony wrists and hands protruding from too-short sleeves, split-open boots resting in the stirrups.

She leaned close. “Jack and Tim haven’t had much love in their lives. They haven’t attended school too often either. This is almost as new for them as for you.”

Sudden hope brightened his face.

“In fact”—her voice dropped to a confidential whisper—“I think they might be scared too. I’m sure the other children have made fun of them before…with a drunken father, outgrown clothes. They’ll probably need friends just as much as you do.”

“Think so?”

“I do.”

Daniel inhaled a slow, deep breath, settling back in the buggy seat. He didn’t say anything, but Samantha could see she’d given him something new to think about.

If only it were so easy for her to set aside her concerns. What if the other children made fun of him? Or of the twins? What if the teacher was prejudiced? The worrying occupied her mind until they reached the outskirts of town.

Several people going about their business stopped to stare at the Falabellas. Some children playing under the big oak next to the schoolhouse laughed and ran over to them. Samantha reined the horses in to a slow walk. By the time they’d reached the mercantile, a murmuring crowd surrounded them.

Chico, ever the showman, arched his neck and tossed his black mane. Gray Mariposa trotted more sedately at his side. Samantha pulled up before the store. “It’s all right,” she called out to the children. “You can pet them.”

She placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “This is Daniel. He’ll tell you all about them.” She stepped out of the buggy and handed the reins to the boy. “You stay here with the horses, please, son. The twins need to come inside with me.”

Daniel nodded. The other children immediately engulfed him in a storm of rapid questions. Daniel perked up, looking happy and pleased. Chico and Mariposa would smooth out her son’s path. But what about her other boys?

Looking up into Jack’s green eyes, she could see his reluctance to dismount. A quick glance at Tim’s face showed his emotions shuttered away from the world. She didn’t blame them for wanting to escape the curious stares and whispers. Nor for not wanting to brave Mrs. Cobb.
She
didn’t want to face the woman either. Stiffening her spine, Samantha nodded toward the mercantile, willing the boys to obey her. “Come along, boys.”

Slowly, both of them slid off their horses, looping the reins over the hitching rail. They fell into step behind her.

Now for Mrs. Cobb.

The interior of the store hadn’t changed over the past two days—jumbled goods, vinegary scent. This time Samantha felt different, wary instead of hopeful. She doubted Mrs. Cobb would welcome the twins’ presence. She braced herself in the same way she’d prepared to face her father-in-law—girded in mental protective armor. If only she could shield the twins.

Mrs. Cobb bustled out from a backroom, the false smile pasted on her face melting away when she saw the twins. “Get those hooligans out of here.” As if shooing a stray dog out the door, she flapped her hands.

Samantha dropped a hand on each boy’s shoulder. Their muscles tensed under her fingers.
How dare the woman treat them like animals
. Next the old witch might grab a broom and
start whacking away. Samantha iced her words. “These
customers
require a
complete
set of new clothes, right down to their shoes.”