A Rancher's Pride(53)

“After the fire, I went crazy,” he said bluntly. “My daddy had died and my mother was grieving and she was in no shape to ride herd on me. The judge tried. Gave me community service. But once I’d served the time, I started drinking, hanging out at the bar. Then I got bored and moved around some. That’s when I met Ronnie. Abilene, at a rodeo—as I might have told you. As I also might have said,” he added dryly, “that’s when I found myself hitched. It was a wild time and a wild ride, and I was a no-account fool.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely. It took me a while, but I finally settled down again.”

“Don’t you think you might have been grieving, too? For your father and—” she indicated the wooden carvings on the shelves around them “—for what happened that night in the barn?”

Without answering, he turned back to his workbench.

She waited awhile, then finally walked out.

He should have been glad she’d left him alone here in the only place he ever truly felt at peace. Yet at the sound of the workshop door closing, he had to stop himself from going after her. Where was his pride now?

He might have settled down again, but it seemed he’d gone right back to acting like a no-account fool.



SUNDAY MORNING. A PERFECT DAY for a barbecue.

Kayla wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Though the heat still hovered near the hundred mark, the recent wave of high humidity had broken. Once in a while, a cloud took it upon itself to scoot in front of the sun. She appreciated the occasional shady moments, but she had still made sure to slather herself and Becky with sunscreen over every exposed patch of skin.

She could have used something to protect the inside of her body, too. Namely, her heart. Sam’s story last night had just about broken it in two.

Thankfully, she had enough to do in the kitchen to keep her busy. If only the jobs could keep her far enough from the kitchen window to avoid her frequent sights of Sam. Out in the yard, he worked as hard as his cowboys did, setting up trestles and boards for tables, getting pits and spits and things she’d never heard of ready for the barbecue.

“Well,” Sharleen said, distracting her, “that’s it on the sweet tea and lemonade. We’ve made enough to fill a bathtub apiece.”

“Very true. Paper towels and utensils are done, too.” She’d layered them into the wicker baskets now ready on the kitchen table. Serving trays filled with condiments lined the counter. “I think we’ve crossed everything off the list.”

“Not a minute too soon, either.” Sharleen sighed. With the doctor’s okay, she had stopped using the crutches, but Kayla noticed she seemed in more pain without them.

“Let’s go outside,” she urged the older woman. “You can put your feet up, and we can see how things are going.”

She tapped the tabletop to get Becky’s attention, and the three of them moved out to the front porch.

Her niece reached between two slats of the porch railing and waved energetically at Sam and Jack, who now stood in conference near the barn. When Sam motioned for Becky to join them, she nearly flew across the yard.

Watching her, Kayla shook her head. “Those sneakers,” she said ruefully. Last night, Becky had decided to decorate her brand-new white sneakers, taking a purple marker and covering the pristine canvas with bright stars. “Well, at least she used a washable marker.”

Sharleen laughed. “Chances are, grass stains will cause more problems than the stars.”

Becky had reached Sam, who patted the top of the fence and made the sign Kayla had shown him for want.

Becky nodded eagerly, and he lifted her up to sit on the railing.

Again, Kayla shook her head.

Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Sam had said not so long ago. Now that he had given in, finally, about learning to talk to Becky, it turned out he had no trouble at all picking up the basic signs Kayla had taught him the night before. He’d even admitted how much easier he found it to learn from her, rather than trying to understand the dictionary he had bought. She also suspected that, for days now, he’d been paying closer attention to her signs at the dinner table than she had realized.

Everything seemed to be falling into place for him.

The thought was bittersweet.

“I’m going to start putting the trays out,” she told Sharleen.

Now that she’d succeeded in getting the other woman comfortable and off her feet, she needed to go back to work. She had made sure to get up early that morning to do her share. Not one person from Flagman’s Folly would be able to call her a slacker!