The Cowboy Tutor. Linda Ford

He says within a few days it’s easy to tell those who want to learn from those who only want to have fun. Or freedom from parental control.” She drew in a rough breath. “I can’t imagine wasting such an opportunity.” Her sigh was long and shaky.

       Madge stuffed back any remnants of resentment. She’d always been able to do what she wanted—work, run, play, ride—whereas Louisa’s activities had been shaped by her weak lungs. She must not resent any scraps of happiness her sister found.

       Not even if they involved a man like Justin—a man about whom she held suspicions and a lurking sense of something else, which would remain nameless and denied.

       Mother took on the job of telling Justin about the family. “We moved here from the city of Edmonton six years ago. My husband wanted to farm. We bought this place and built a new house.” She sighed. “In hindsight, perhaps we should have been satisfied with something much smaller, but at the time the economy was so bright. My husband died unexpectedly three years ago—just before the crash. At least he was spared that.”

       Somehow Madge didn’t think Father would be as glad as Mother seemed to think. He’d surely have wanted to shepherd them through this crisis, see they were safe and sheltered. They needed him now like never before. But obviously the Lord thought otherwise.

       “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure it’s been tough to manage.”

       Justin sounded as if Mother’s loss really mattered to him. Did he understand how hard life was? Truly, without assurance that God would take care of them, there were times Madge wondered how they would make it through another month.

       “The situation is difficult for everyone. We are perhaps more fortunate than some,” Mother said.

       “How’s that?”

       Madge continued to study him, drawn inexorably by the gentle concern in his voice. Their gazes touched, and he held the look for a moment before sliding away, leaving her feeling washed and exposed. She must guard her thoughts better, lest he guess at her confusion of interest and caution.

       Mother spoke her name, and Madge shifted her attention to hear her words. “Madge has kept us all afloat.”

       Madge revealed nothing in her expression. None of the agony some of her decisions had caused as Mother explained how she’d negotiated a deal to give the bulk of their land to the bank in exchange for keeping the house and a mortgage they could manage. She might soon be forced to admit it was too much if God didn’t provide an answer to her prayer for another job, another source of income.

       After a few minutes she interrupted the discussion. “It’s your turn. Tell us about your family and where you’re from.”

       Judd hauled his thoughts to a halt. He didn’t want the conversation focused on him. He’d tried to plan what he could reveal and what he must hide. Figured he had it worked out satisfactorily, but still he didn’t like the thought of having to tell half-truths in order to keep his identity a secret. Besides, he’d enjoyed hearing how Madge managed to save their home. And not just save the home to live like paupers. These people ate decently and were together. Not everyone could claim such success.

       His jaw tightened. His own mother could testify to that, but it wasn’t her fault things had turned out as they had.

       Four pairs of eyes silently urged him to share. One pair, especially, challenged him. He’d tried to divide his attention equally among those at the table, but again and again, his gaze left the others to watch Madge. She wore a practical brown dress. Her glistening brown hair tumbled about as if it had a mind of its own.

       Aware they waited for his answer, he pulled his thoughts back from concentrating on Madge. “My mother is a widow, too. She’s had a difficult time because of the reversal of her fortunes.”

       Mrs. Morgan sighed. “The crash hit so many people. Now the drought is touching even those who had no money to lose in the first place. On top of that, the low prices for our products…why, wheat is down to twenty-eight cents a bushel. How can farmers hope to survive?”

       They all shook their heads. He let them think his mother had lost everything in the collapse of the financial markets. Only in her case, it was a scoundrel who’d brought about her personal crash.

       Mrs. Morgan continued. “At least she has you to help.”

       “And three more sons.”

       “Four boys?” Mrs. Morgan perked up.

       He wondered if she regretted having only daughters.

       “I expect your mother is well taken care of.”

       “She is now.” Shoot. He shouldn’t have said “now.” Four pairs of eyebrows shot upwards, and four pairs of eyes demanded an explanation. Aware of an especially intense gaze from across the table, he turned to Mrs. Morgan, afraid his emotions might reveal themselves despite his best intentions. Could he explain without giving away more than was safe? “We didn’t realize how badly she needed help. She had too much pride to confess it. Somehow she managed to hide it even from Levi, who is still living at home.”

       “Tell us about your brothers. Is Levi the youngest?”

       “Yes. He’s seventeen. Redford is the next one. He’s teaching. Has been for…well, he’s twenty-three, so I guess he’s been teaching four years now. Then Carson is a lawyer. He’s a year younger than I am.”

       “How old would that make him?” Madge demanded.

       Judd tucked away a smile. Curious about him, was she? Even though she watched him with as much concentration as did Louisa’s small dog. “Carson is twenty-five.”

       They studied each other across the table, measuring, assessing. He wished he didn’t have to conceal the truth about who he was. But he did. Determination stiffened his muscles, making his mouth tighten.

       Her eyes narrowed. “How did you hurt your leg?”

       “Madge!” Mrs. Morgan sounded as if she couldn’t believe her daughter, though whether because her question was so bold or because of the hint of mockery in her voice.

       “I got thrown from a wild horse.” At least that part was true.

       Louisa gasped. “A wild horse? Why would you be riding such a creature?”

       “My job was to break him. I decided to do it the fast way. Only it proved to be the slow way for me. Someone else had to finish the job while I lay around recuperating.” Again, that part was true.

       Madge squinted at him. “I thought you were a teacher. Isn’t that why you went to university?”

       He chuckled, pleased he confounded her with the truth. “After a year of teaching I realized I didn’t really like the job, so I let Redford apply for the position and I headed to the foothills. That’s where I was when my mother lost her home.” If he’d been around, he might have seen what was happening. Perhaps been able to stop it.

       Instead, he’d been away, unaware of events, but he aimed to right things as best he could now. The man responsible for his mother’s loss would not escape without somehow paying. Judd didn’t much care how, so long as he paid. He’d watch the man, see what he planned, who he picked for his next victim, then confront him, expose him to one and all, make him own the truth and then turn him over to the law. He wondered if the courts would make him repay his victims. Sometimes he considered taking the law into his own hands but so far had listened to the voice of reason—or moderation, perhaps—drilled into him by his mother.

       “Where is your mother living now?”

       Mrs. Morgan’s question pulled him back to the watchful interest of Madge and the quiet curiosity of her sisters. “Mother and Levi found a good home with Carson in Regina, Saskatchewan.”

       “I’m glad. It must be a relief for her.”

       “And me.”

       Mrs. Morgan’s gaze