Forgotten Honeymoon. Marie Ferrarella

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СКАЧАТЬ man and would have shown him a friendlier disposition if they weren’t in such tense circumstances.

      “I’m sure these fine gentlemen mean me no harm at all,” cooed his sister, flashing the cowboys a smile and fanning her face. “Please, take your time, Mrs. Trumbo.”

      Ollie’s hands started to shake just from the sheer weight of the gun. Daisy faced the lineup of cowhands, deciding it best to get on with her daughter’s ploy so this could be ended as quickly as possible. Though one or two cowboys focused intently on Ollie, none appeared too worried about their safety. A red-haired cowhand in the front of the line was actually grinning.

      “How about me?” the banker asked. “Can I move now that your mother’s here, Ollie?” Sweat stained his thinning hairline and darkened his shirt near the armpits.

      Daisy didn’t give Ollie time to answer. “You go about your business, Sam. We apologize for this and promise it won’t happen again, will it, Olivia?”

      Ollie’s twin braids swung back and forth as she shook her head. “I better not promise, Mama, ’cause I might be lying. Sometimes I do that ’fore I know what comes over me. Old Miz Jenkins says that’s ’cause I’m young and still got a bunch’a sins to sow. I don’t know what that means, but when she says it everybody around her pew gives her an ‘Amen, sister.’ You don’t want me breaking one of them commandments if I can help it, do ya?”

      “I most certainly do not.” Daisy frowned, though several of the cowhands laughed and she noticed a grin flash across the brother’s face.

      She should have been happy most were taking this with such good humor, but Daisy couldn’t until she had control of the gun.

      Ollie took a deep breath and finished her discussion with Banker Cardwell. “Besides, you don’t have to worry no more anyway, Sam. Mama said all your whiskers would give her burns if you was a kissing kind of man. And you know that’s one of them things on my list. A new daddy’s got to be good at kissin’ Mama, and I don’t want it hurtin’ her none when he does it.”

      She seemed to remember where she should be targeting and adjusted her aim. The tiny crooked last finger she’d inherited from her daddy’s side of the family stuck out as if she were balancing a teacup. “Just gonna see if any of these fellas over here will do.”

      “First time I’ve ever been held at gunpoint to prove I’m a good kisser,” one of the cowboys joked.

      Heat blazed in Daisy’s cheeks as she dismissed him and her daughter’s demand, instantly moving on to the three men who had been hanging around High Plains on weekends the past month. She had heard they were helping out at the old Rafford place during branding season. The others were probably looking for work. Dressed in work shirts, bandannas, vests and chaps to cover their denims, they didn’t appear any different than most cowboys who rode the circuit of ranches come spring.

      Despite Ollie’s earlier comments about the more finely dressed man, most of the cowboys had shaved and cleaned up before riding into town. That showed respect, one of the requirements Daisy had added to her daughter’s list. She appreciated a respectful man of clean ways who traveled a good path. As she tried to do herself, though she failed at times.

      If she ever did choose to remarry, not that she thought she actually would, the man must honor all of God’s ways and love her and Ollie as his own. He must put no one else but God before them. She would offer her heart to no one less. She would give Ollie no less than the best of fathers this time. Until that ever came about, she intended to be and provide everything her daughter needed. No matter how hard the struggle.

      Daisy moved on to the cowboys’ faces and whether or not they could stare her straight in the eyes. Every one of them looked away before she finished, a couple of them edging their hats down low as if not wanting to be seen too closely. That made no points with her. Anyone she allowed to enter her and Ollie’s lives she needed to trust, and eyes spoke volumes about a person.

      The rest of the men’s features ranged from passably pleasing to make-you-look-twice, but she put little value in appearances these days. Each of them would be a suitable match to some woman in the world somewhere, just not her.

      Daisy supposed she should have never told Ollie that Knox had been the handsomest man in the county when she’d married him. Her daughter now believed having uncommon good looks was an important requirement for a would-be daddy. As Daisy had learned the hard way, a man needed something more than pleasant features to be a good husband or a father. He needed a heart filled with sincere love and kindness and a soul full of truth. She’d discovered too late that Knox had fallen short of that expectation and she hadn’t known how to help him improve.

      Ollie knew only that her father had the reputation of a hero. What purpose would it serve to let her or others believe any different of him? It would only hurt Ollie in the end. Daisy decided it was better to keep the sad truth hidden away in her own heart than to crush Ollie’s.

      Though she allowed Ollie to have her fun with the future-daddy list, Daisy doubted any man could ever really measure up and be able to heal the depth of that hurt in Knox and disappointment in herself. Instead, she set about proving to herself and every other member of the Trumbo clan in this community that she could make a decent living for her and Ollie and didn’t need anyone else to make them happy or earn their keep.

      “Let these men go, Olivia,” Daisy said quietly, her tone filled with the pain of memories. “We’ve delayed them long enough.”

      Ollie shrugged. “I wasn’t much stuck on none of ’em, either, Mama. Not a one knows a thing about threading your machine or making a shoe, so they won’t be no help with the biz’ness. They just shoo cows and keep ’em rounded up. How ’bout their eyes? Any of them got that special look you want?”

      The cowboy in front thumbed back his hat and winked at Daisy. He had one of the priorities Ollie had written on the list. Taller than Mama. A lot of men fell short of matching Daisy’s height. Six feet in widow-black daunted more men than it didn’t.

      “You got a real rooter-tooter on your hands there, Widow.” The winker’s grin broadened. “I might be willing to stick around to change your opinion.” His voice lowered into a husky tone that implied more than Daisy needed or wanted to know about the kind of man he was.

      The lady with the fan tapped Daisy with it and gave a low throaty laugh. “I wouldn’t turn that one down, ma’am. He looks like quite a charmer.”

      “Leave the dear widow to her business, Petula,” warned her brother, his gaze locking with his sister’s. “I’ve already told you, we won’t be here long enough to make any proper acquaintances.”

      Petula’s lower lip pouted. Daisy took note of the undercurrent of emotion layering his tone and his stoic expression. His features were similar to but more angular than his flirting sister’s. His eyes, though, were incomparable to any others she’d ever seen. The blue-violet of the lake water in her back pasture after a spring thaw, they were layered with fathoms so clear nothing could be hidden in their depths. The kind of eyes that one might trust, she wondered, unsettled that they had stirred such a curiosity within her.

      Daisy quickly pushed the question aside. He was someone just passing through. She’d had enough of trying to trust a man to settle down. To make herself important enough in his life he would prefer to stay.

      The expression that now thinned the stranger’s lips and chiseled his jaw held no softness, no gentleness, only command for his sister’s obedience. He didn’t appear a man to СКАЧАТЬ