Debra Holland - [Montana Sky 02] (27 page)

First Samantha enclosed shy Tim in an embrace. Then she reached out with her other arm and included Jack. The three of them paused for a moment, the boys as still as statues. But she sensed them absorbing her maternal loving like a parched desert soaked up rain.

Spontaneous tears sprang to her eyes. This was the moment she’d been waiting for—the time when they’d finally start allowing her to be their mother. Just like she had with Daniel, she placed a kiss on Jack’s head, then on Tim’s. “Thank you, boys, for being brothers to Daniel.”

They straightened, sullen looks gone, green eyes bright and a slight flush to their freckled cheeks. As if they’d had as much mothering as they could take, they wiggled away. Not meeting her eyes, Jack sidled toward the steps. “Best put the horses up.”

Call me Mama.

She grabbed the words back before she uttered them. One step at a time. She just needed to have patience.

Patting Daniel’s shoulder, she scooted him toward the twins. “Go help your brothers. And hurry. Supper’s almost ready.”

She watched them lead the horses toward the barn, scuffling with each other, as if to shed themselves of their emotion. A tumult of feelings twisted in her stomach. While she was grateful Ben and Arlie’s bullying had bonded the three boys into brothers, there were still going to be upset people to placate and an outhouse to rebuild. Another expense. She sighed in frustration. More incidents like this would jeopardize her ability to make the ranch financially solvent.

“Pa.” Blonde braids flying behind her, Christine barreled into the livery stable.

Wyatt halted his inspection of Bill’s hoof, hastily setting it down, and stepped out of the stall.

Christine ran down the dirt aisle of the livery stable; the horses peeking over their stall doors flung up their heads. “Pa, the twins and Arlie and Ben were fighting. They wrecked the privy. Miss Stanton is sooo mad at them.” She launched herself into his arms.

Not those twins again.
He caught his daughter with one arm, hugging her to him, then set her down. Studying her face, he checked for any signs of her recent illness. But her cheeks glowed
pink with health. He released a relieved breath. “Slowly now, tell me the whole story.”

“Pa.” She scrunched a face at him, huffing her shoulders in exasperation. “That
is
the whole story. They were fighting, and the privy is flat as a flapjack.” Her expression turned worried. Blue eyes appealed. “What are we going to use tomorrow if we don’t have an outhouse?”

“The one at the church or the one here at the livery.” He tapped a finger on her nose. “But don’t worry, sunshine. I’ll build your school a new one tomorrow. I’m sure some of the other men will help and it will be up before your first recess.”

Reassured, she smiled at him.

After the events of last week, it was a downright pleasure to make Christine smile. Her simple trust in him tickled paternal tenderness right down to his toes. He held out his hand to her. “Let’s go see the damage.”

As they strolled out into the sunny afternoon, Wyatt blinked and took a brief survey around. A few people strolled the dirt street of the town. Several horses were tied up at the saloon, and Cobbs’ Mercantile had a one-horse surrey parked in front. But no mass stampede of indignant people headed toward the schoolhouse. Maybe word hadn’t gotten out yet.

Wyatt used the brief walk to the school to collect his thoughts. He had stayed busy in the last three days so he could keep one redheaded woman out of his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of Samantha shadowed him. Now this new problem had brought her to the forefront of his mind. Although exasperated by the actions of her “boys,” right now a secret part of him welcomed the excuse to interact with her.

As soon as he recognized the direction his thoughts were wandering, he swatted the feeling away. He didn’t want to think
about the beautiful widow, no matter how attracted he was to her. Samantha Rodriguez came with too many complications attached, and like a magnet collecting nails and other scraps of metal, she drew more problems to herself. He shook his head to dismiss images of her.

The porch of the school looked deserted. The children must have gone home already. He squeezed Christine’s hand. “How did you hear about this?”

“Most everyone left, but I was waiting for Daniel. I wanted to tell him you said I could go see the Falabellas tomorrow.”

“Is Daniel mixed up in this too?”

“Yep.”

A twist of concern wound into his thoughts. If Samantha’s son trailed the twins into trouble, she was going to be mighty upset. He clamped down on the protective urge that fired up. She wouldn’t thank him for getting involved. She’d already made that clear.

He glanced down at Christine, skipping at his side.
He was already involved.

They rounded the corner of the building, heading for the lilac bushes screening the outhouse, treading over a path beaten into the dirt by children’s feet. He heard voices and smelled the sewage odors before he rounded the bushes.

Looking more animated than Wyatt had ever seen her, petite Miss Stanton fluttered in front of Nick Sanders, her hands gesturing in the air. There was something about the look of entreaty in her gray eyes that exposed her heartfelt yearning for the man. Nick had hitched his weight onto his back leg, as if trying to put some distance between them without actually moving away. Even his black hat tipped toward the back of his head.

As Wyatt approached, the two turned in unison. Beyond them, and apparently the reason they had gathered here, lay the jutting boards of the collapsed outhouse. The area reeked of ammonia and excrement.

Sanders, a flush underneath his tan, stepped toward them.

Wyatt almost smiled at the look of relief on the man’s face. But he stilled his reaction. The teacher’s infatuation for Nick Sanders was open knowledge. Given that Sanders was happily roped and tied to another woman, Miss Stanton’s unrequited feelings could only cause her pain.

A tug of sympathy stopped Wyatt from walking forward. He didn’t know what was worse, loving someone who’d passed, or loving someone who didn’t return your affections. At least he had his memories. Miss Stanton had nothing.

Christine towed him forward a few reluctant paces. He nodded, touching a finger to his hat. “Miss Stanton. Sanders.”

Sanders returned his nod. “Thompson.”

Miss Stanton lost her look of vulnerability. She waved toward the collapsed remains of the outhouse, irritation edging her voice. “Mr. Thompson, you see the problem here?”

“What happened?”

“Ben and Arlie were teasing Daniel Rodriguez. The twins attacked them, pushing the boys into the outhouse.”

She shook her head, a rueful twist to her lips. “We were due for a new privy anyway. The old one had almost rotted away.” She wrinkled her nose. “And it desperately needed to be moved. A few weeks ago, I mentioned the topic to Mr. Cobb and Reverend Norton.”

Wyatt hid a grin. No wonder the job hadn’t gotten done. Neither Reverend Norton, with his flock and his religious studies, and cares-only-for-money-Cobb would put a new outhouse
for the school at the top of their priority list. “Next time mention any such problem to me. I’ll see the job gets done.”

“Or me,” Nick echoed.

“Thank you, gentlemen, I’ll remember that. But in the meantime, using the livery’s or the church’s is going to take the children longer. I’ll have to allow more time.”

Christine pushed her body against Wyatt’s hip. “My pa said he’d build it tomorrow and it would be done by recess,” she announced, a proud lilt in her voice.

Wyatt gently tugged one of her braids. “I said if I had some help it will be done by recess.”

Miss Stanton clasped her hands together. “That’s wonderful. I’m sure some of the other men would be willing to help.” Her gray eyes beseeched Nick Sanders.

Sanders shifted his weight back. “No problem, ma’am. Thompson and I should have it done by noon.”

Pink crept into Miss Stanton’s cheeks. “Oh, thank you, Nick. And you too, Mr. Thompson,” she added.

Sanders jerked his head in the direction of the railroad depot. “I sent Mark and Sara for the mail. I need to round them up and head home. Thompson, can you arrange for the wood?”

“Have some leftover pieces sitting in my barn. Should be enough. I’ll drive them in tomorrow.”

Sanders nodded. “I’ll meet you here when I drop off the children for school.” He glanced toward Miss Stanton, ducked his head toward the brim of his Stetson. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Stanton.”

The teacher smiled. A dimple showed in her right cheek. “Until tomorrow, Nick.” She followed him with her gaze until he passed the bushes.

Wyatt cleared his throat. “We’d best be going too.”

Miss Stanton turned to Wyatt. “Christine recited her spelling words perfectly today. She’s all caught up on the work she missed.”

Christine beamed.

Wyatt grinned at her and gave one of her braids another gentle pull. “She had plenty of time to study in bed.”

“Christine’s such a good student. She’s a joy to teach.”

Wyatt couldn’t help the grin of fatherly pride bursting across his face. “Takes after her ma that way.”

Miss Stanton arched one eyebrow. “I’m sure she takes after
both
parents.”

Wyatt’s neck burned. “Well, she sure has her ma’s good qualities.” He looked down at his daughter, who’d started to swing their linked hands. “Come on, sunshine. Let’s go.” He touched his hat. “Good-bye, Miss Stanton.”

Christine echoed. “Bye, Miss Stanton.”

“Good-bye, Christine. Mr. Thompson.”

Wyatt waited until they’d walked back to the street. Then he stopped. “I think,” he said, trying not to sound too eager, “we should head out and see how Mrs. Rodriguez is taking the news of the boys’ fight.”

In front of Samantha’s porch, Wyatt slowed Bill to a stop. He dismounted, taking both Bill’s reins. Striding over to Christine, he lifted her from her pony. He set her on the ground, handing her the reins. “Why don’t you go join the boys and play with the Falabellas while I talk to Mrs. Rodriguez.”

Christine beamed. He could tell how happy having his permission to play with her precious little horses made her. “Yes, Pa.”

Wyatt looped the reins of their mounts around the rail, then strode up the steps and across the porch. His heartbeat sped up with each stride. No one appeared to be outside. Should he greet her with a kiss?

Sudden doubt slowed him. What if her initial response to him was because of what they had been through with Christine? What if she’d only been feeling sorry for him? He’d better wait and see how things played out.

The door stood open. He tapped on the frame. “Samantha,” he called.

Quick footsteps sounded from the kitchen.

He smiled in anticipation.

She stepped into the hall and toward the door, her gaze flying to his face. Wisps of hair curled around her heat-flushed face. Although clad in a plain black dress covered by a gray apron, her amber-and-blue beauty brightened the dim hallway. It was all he could do to keep from embracing her.

A pleased smile lit up her features. “Wyatt.”

His heart kicked in response.

She smoothed her hands over her apron. “I was just getting supper.”

“We won’t keep you.” He jerked his head in the direction of the barn. “I brought Christine to see the Falabellas.”

“I’m so pleased she came with you.”

“And I wanted to see how you were feeling about what happened with the twins and the school outhouse.”

As if she’d stepped behind a glass window, the happiness faded from her blue eyes, leaving them distant. “If you’re here to complain about the twins—”

“No, no.” He held up a placating hand. “I just thought you’d like to know that Nick Sanders and I are going to rebuild the outhouse tomorrow.”

For a second, her shoulders sagged, then she straightened. “Please let me know how much I owe you.”

“How about dinner tomorrow night?” He made his voice light, not daring to show how important her response was.

“Wyatt, I insist on repaying you for the materials and for your labor.”

Stubborn woman
. “I have the lumber sitting around. The school needed a new outhouse anyway. I doubt Sanders will take money. I certainly won’t.”