Montana Cowboy Family. Linda Ford

floodwaters. She did not thank him for bringing those emotions to the surface.

      She must ignore those feelings, ignore the man who triggered them. She looked about her rooms for something with which to occupy herself. Her flowers. They always filled her with a sense of peace and beauty. Sitting at the little desk where she also prepared school lessons, she pulled out the thick book in which she pressed the flowers she gathered. Shortly after her arrival on the stagecoach a few weeks ago, Logan’s sister, Annie, had taken her for a buggy ride out to the open fields, and she’d picked wild crocuses to add to her collection. They were dried and she chose a piece of heavy paper. With her tweezers, she gently lifted the crocuses from their place of preparation to glue them in an arrangement. At some point, she’d add other flowers and create a picture to frame and hang on the wall.

      Her usual sense of peace eluded her as Logan hammered on the outside of the building.

      * * *

      All weekend, Sadie worried about Sammy. Was he getting fed? Did someone comfort him? Or did someone hurt him? She busied herself on Saturday by cleaning the classroom, preparing lessons and baking a cake. But Logan and another man worked on the schoolhouse, and their noise and—she allowed herself to admit—Logan’s presence made it difficult to concentrate. She slipped next door to visit Kate.

      “Did I see a small boy with Logan yesterday?” Kate asked.

      Sadie had met Kate on the stagecoach earlier in the spring as they traveled to Bella Creek. Kate was as ordinary as could be, often wearing a big white apron to protect her clothing from the things she encountered as her father’s assistant. Kate’s father was the new doctor. Kate had brought her friend Isabelle with her to Bella Creek. Sadie smiled thinking of Isabelle. Imagine, an heiress in their midst, and none of them had realized it at first. Kate and her father had come in response to a plea for help from the townspeople of Bella Creek, the request for a doctor and a teacher after a devastating fire.

      She turned her attention to Kate’s question. “Little Sammy Weiss.” She explained the situation. “Have you or your father had occasion to meet any of the Weisses?”

      Kate said they hadn’t and they turned the conversation to other matters.

      On Sunday, Sadie glanced about the congregation. Sammy wasn’t there. She told herself there might be a good reason the family didn’t attend. Perhaps they weren’t churchgoers, but she’d been hoping to see them.

      Instead, she ended up meeting Logan’s gaze across the aisle. The blue sky of outdoors echoed in his eyes, sending a jolt through her. She jerked her gaze away and stared hard at the preacher...another recent newcomer. She forced herself to listen carefully to each of Preacher Arness’s words and left the service strengthened and encouraged.

      She might not be acceptable in the eyes of many people, should they learn her secret, but she was wholly accepted by God through the cleansing blood of Christ. Humming a hymn under her breath, she smiled at each who greeted her. Grandfather Marshall took her hand and asked after her well-being. Although his kind words brought a sting of tears to the back of her eyes, she managed to answer calmly and moved on before Logan could do more than nod. She had no need to avoid him, and yet she couldn’t stand and make polite conversation with him, either.

      * * *

      Monday morning, Sammy handed her a note as he entered the classroom. “From my ma,” he said. He walked away before she could think what to say.

      Logan said Sammy’s ma had died. Was he mistaken? How was she to find out?

      She opened the note and read it: “I’m sick. Can you come some other time?”

      She studied the writing. Many of the older children wrote better than this, but perhaps the woman had not been properly schooled, which would explain the promise she’d elicited from her son to attend classes. But why would someone say the mother was dead?

      She set the children to work and checked on each of them. She paused at Sammy’s desk and bent close to speak privately to him. “I’m sorry your mother is ill. Can I do anything?”

      “No, ma’am,” he whispered.

      “If you think of something, don’t be afraid to ask.” She pressed her hand to his back.

      He flinched so sharply that she jerked her hand away.

      “Are you hurt?” Had this occurred over the weekend? It was the first time she’d touched him in that particular place but, in truth, he had shrunk back from every touch she offered. Pain and anger tore at her insides. There had been a time she’d thought family to be a place of shelter and protection. There were families who portrayed these ideals, and many others that did not.

      He sidled away as far as his desk allowed. “No.” His brown eyes were big and watchful.

      She didn’t need the details to know this child had been hurt and was afraid. She glanced about. Now was not the time or place to say anything.

      She waited until recess and called him to her desk as the others went out to play. “Sammy, if you need someone to talk to, or if you need help of any sort, please let me know.”

      He shook his head hard, sending his overgrown dirty blond hair from side to side. “There’s nothing to say and I don’t need nothing.” He scurried outdoors. It was plain as the nose on his face that he didn’t want to talk to her.

      She stared after him. Oh, Father, this child is in need of help. I know it as clearly as I know someone should have helped me. Show me what to do.

      At noon, he hurried out to join Logan before Sadie reached the door.

      By the time school let out, she knew what she must do. Her only regret was having given her promise to Logan to tell him before she did anything.

      As soon as the children departed, she hurried across the street and confronted him. “Look at this.” She handed him the note. “I thought you said Mrs. Weiss had passed away.”

      He read the few words. Logan shook his head, as puzzled by the message as she. “I’ve never known Uncle George to be wrong.”

      “Something isn’t right and I’m going out there to find out what it is.”

      “But she asks you not to.”

      “I told you I would not hesitate to visit a family if I felt the need and, in this case, I do. I said I’d let you know and I’m doing that. I fear Sammy is in some sort of danger.” She told him about the bruises she’d observed on Sammy’s arms and the way Sammy had flinched at having his back touched. “I’m certain he’s been whipped hard enough to leave him hurting.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “Not completely, but I won’t let it go until I know the truth.” Uncertainty filled his eyes as he studied her.

      “Very well. If you’re determined to do this, I’ll take you.”

      “While I appreciate your offer of help...” Which it had not been. “I prefer to go alone.”

      “Why?”

      She considered her reply. She could hardly say it was because she didn’t want him hovering at her side making her aware of things she’d sooner not think of. Like the strength of him physically and in other ways. Not to mention that he made her think of how the Marshall family was a model of all the things she thought family should be, but was only a dream for many people. “If the woman is ill, she might not want a strange man showing up.”

      “Or the teacher, either, yet you are set on going.”

      Challenge upon challenge passed between them.

      “Fine,” she said finally, only because she knew he wouldn’t give in.

      “Very well. Let me get a buggy from the livery barn and I’ll come back for you.” He was on his way before she got her agreement out. While he did that, she hurried to her quarters and bundled up the cake she’d baked Saturday. At least