Montana Cowboy Family. Linda Ford

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СКАЧАТЬ nodded. He pushed his mouthful of food to one cheek. “Been here more’n a week.”

      “Where’d you come from afore that?”

      “Wolf Hollow.”

      That explained his grubby clothes and hunger. The rough mining town to the west had its share of men and women whose dreams of making it rich had been shattered by reality.

      “Where are you living?”

      Sammy jerked his thumb over his shoulder as if that provided all the information needed.

      They ate in silence, Sammy’s full attention on his food while Logan contemplated what to do about the boy.

      Sammy finished before Logan, so Logan stuffed what was left back in the sack to eat later and pushed to his feet. “I expect the teacher will have noticed your absence by now.”

      They could hear someone approaching. A woman called, “Sammy? Where are you?” The schoolmarm must have realized she was missing one of her students.

      Sammy jerked to his feet and flung about, seeking escape.

      Logan caught him by the collar, a little disconcerted when the boy shrank back, his eyes blinking at a galloping rate. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to face up to your sins like a man.”

      Sammy straightened but his jaw quivered.

      Miss Young held up her skirts as she ran around the school building in search of Sammy. She wore a dark gray skirt as plain as unbuttered bread and a white shirtwaist fitted so tightly around her neck it must surely choke her.

      At the sight of Sammy in Logan’s grasp, she dropped her skirt and ran her hands over her head to make sure every hair was in place. Logan was pretty sure not one single strand would dare escape.

      She spared Logan the briefest of glances and turned her attention to Sammy. “I was concerned about you.”

      “I’s okay.”

      “Except you’re supposed to be at school with the others.”

      “I don’t like school.” Sammy sighed mightily. “But I promised my ma I would go.”

      She held a hand out to him. “Then let’s return.”

      Sammy ducked away from her offered hand and sauntered across the yard in the general direction of the store.

      Miss Young paused to speak to Logan. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She was too shy to even meet his gaze.

      “I know you have students to look after at the moment, but when classes are over, you and I need to talk about this.” Like he’d said to Sammy, the boy must take responsibility for his actions. If left unchecked, stealing lunches might escalate into stealing bigger things. Things that would get him jailed or hanged. Best to nip the tendency in the bud.

      Miss Young’s gaze jolted to his at those words. “I’ll deal with the boy in school.”

      “He stole from me. That makes it my business.”

      Her demanding look had likely been perfected with her wayward students, but he’d lived with Pa and Grandfather long enough to endure the most challenging of looks without flinching. Not to mention two older brothers, Dawson and Conner. They were only four and two years older respectively, but not above bossing Logan around. Even his little sister, Annie, who at nineteen ran the house ever since Ma died four years ago, felt she had the right to expect Logan to do as she asked.

      Nope. No mousy little schoolmarm had a hope of making him quake in his shoes. He touched the brim of his hat. “Until school is out,” he said, and sauntered away.

      * * *

      Sadie would have welcomed more time crossing the street and rejoining the classroom. Something about Logan Marshall left her heart fluttering and her breathing so rapid she might have run around the block three times. But she’d left one of the older girls in charge long enough. She’d have to deal with her turmoil of emotions later. She rang the bell and called the children in from their play behind the store. The area was little more than the back alley, but until they moved into the schoolhouse, it sufficed. Lunch time had precipitated Sammy running away. For the fourth day in a row he had forgotten his lunch. She began to think no one prepared one for him. The children made the same conclusion and teased Sammy. Before she could intervene, the boy had gone outside saying he wasn’t hungry. When she’d checked on him, he was gone. The same thing had happened yesterday but, before she could search for him, he had returned, swaggering a little, looking slightly smug. Her warning bells had sounded. This little boy of seven brought out all the protective instincts she possessed, but she wasn’t lulled into believing he wasn’t capable of mischief.

      And she was right. He’d stolen from Logan Marshall! What had he taken? And why had he stolen from a Marshall? They ruled the town with unwavering firmness. Sammy’s family had recently moved to Bella Creek, so Sammy might not know that yet. She spared a tight smile, wondering if knowing would make any difference to the boy. He had a certain brashness to him that made her think he often did things he shouldn’t.

      The children filed in. She read to them. She assigned lessons and checked answers. She replied when spoken to though, from the questioning looks on several faces, she guessed they had asked their questions more than once. Finally the afternoon classes ended and she dismissed the children with a wave and a wooden smile. Only then did she sink to her chair, plant her elbows on the desktop and bury her face in her hands. She made certain to have a book open in front of her, should anyone step in unannounced. Hopefully, they would think she pored over lesson preparation.

      Shudder after shudder raced up and down her spine. She was no longer a naive sixteen-year-old but a wiser, stronger, more careful woman. Still, the thought of facing one of the Marshall men with their broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes filled her with dread.

      Big or little, powerful or weak, she simply did not trust men. Not after her father’s business partner had cornered her in her bedroom, tossed her on her bed and done unspeakable things to her.

      After he was done, he smiled at her. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

      To this day she didn’t know if he’d meant the words seriously or simply mocked her pain. After he’d left she’d curled into a little ball, her pillow clutched to her chest and cried. Her tears were spent, her insides hollow, when her mother came in some time later. She’d confessed it all, hoping for, longing for, comfort. But she’d been instructed to wash her face and come down to dinner even though that man—Walter—would be at the same table.

      She’d been told to never mention what had happened. It would ruin her father, would put the family out of business and lastly, as if it mattered least, it would ruin Sadie.

      Every time she had to face the man brought a repeat of her pain and fear. After a few weeks she had persuaded Mother to let her go stay with Aunt Sarah, her mother’s younger sister. Sadie had found a degree of comfort there, but her insides remained raw that her family—the very people who should protect her—had turned their backs on her pain and fear.

      Time was supposed to heal all wounds and she tried to believe it. She had even allowed herself to be courted by shy, gentle Ronald Wilson. She’d gone so far as to agree to marry him, but as the time for the wedding approached she couldn’t СКАЧАТЬ