Montana Cowboy Family. Linda Ford

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       Chapter Three

      Sadie stood in the doorway and faced three forlorn children huddled together in the middle of the floor. Her quarters had seemed roomy until now. As Logan had said, they would be crowded here. But they would be safe.

      Without appearing to do so, she studied Beth. Was there a reason she’d chosen to come with Sadie? Was it because there were no men at the teacher’s house?

      With a shake of her head, she warned herself she too easily equated the children’s situation with her own and she had no reason to do so. They wouldn’t know the truth about things until they located the father. Perhaps he had been injured. But providing an excuse did not erase the way her nerves tingled with certainty there was more involved than a missing father and a deceased mother.

      “Children, I will get beds arranged after Logan comes back.” She’d ask him to help her bring cots she would purchase from his uncle’s store. “In the meantime, let’s put your things in the bedroom.”

      She led the way to the second room.

      Beth looked around. “Where are we going to sleep?”

      “We’ll figure out something. After all, I’m the teacher.” She wasn’t sure why that should make the children trust her, but she smiled as Beth relaxed enough to set her squirming little sister down.

      Jeannie hurried over to the bed and touched the bright quilt that Aunt Sarah had helped her make, insisting handwork was relaxing. If only her aunt knew how much pain had gone into every stitch as Sadie had made the quilt. She’d told herself that she would start a new life, she would be independent, she would help those in dire circumstances, she would be a teacher and find what she needed in that profession.

      Jeannie patted the quilt. “Pretty, pretty.”

      “Don’t touch,” Beth warned.

      “It’s okay. You can certainly touch it. This is your home now.” At least until the situation could be sorted out, though, if her intuition was correct, she’d make sure the children were never returned to a man who not only neglected the children but hurt them. “I made that quilt when I was eighteen. My aunt helped me.”

      “Where was your mother? Had she passed on?” Beth asked, her eyes full of sympathy.

      “No, both my parents are alive, but I lived with my aunt for a few years. That’s where I took my teacher’s training.”

      “Oh,” both Sammy and Beth said.

      She cleared out a drawer in her dresser. “Beth, you can put the girls’ things in here.”

      By shoving her books together on one shelf, she made room on another for Sammy’s things. They had so little, but soon she hoped she could provide them with clothes and jackets that fit properly.

      The enormity of the task she’d taken on weighed on her shoulders. A teacher’s salary would not extend to feeding and clothing three children. Dear Father God, please provide for us. “I’m sure you’re all hungry. Would you like a snack? Afterward you can help me prepare supper.”

      “Yes, please,” Jeannie said. “I hungry.”

      “Me, too,” Sammy said. “That cake was really good.”

      Beth hung back, not ready to admit she couldn’t manage on her own.

      “There’s some cake left. Let’s save it for dessert. But how does bread and jam sound?” Logan’s aunt Mary baked bread and sold it through the store.

      “Yes, please.” Jeannie hurried into the kitchen and parked herself at the table. Her brother and sister followed.

      Thankfully, those who had furnished Sadie’s rooms had provided four chairs, so there was room for all of them. And no more. She wouldn’t think that it meant she couldn’t invite Logan to share their meals. Or simply come for tea. It was not like she longed for his company. But he had offered to help. Insisted on it.

      She sliced bread, spread butter and jam, and placed some before each child. They thanked her and ate neatly. Almost too neatly, as if concerned she would scold them—or worse?—if they dropped a crumb.

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