The Cowboy Father. Linda Ford

businesses. “Sharp’s General Store. I remember them. There was a girl many grades below me…can’t remember her name.”

       “Joanie?”

       “That’s the one. I don’t suppose she’s still around? She’d be what? About nineteen or twenty.”

       “She’s still around. I’m guessing you used to live here.”

       Emmet explained how Auntie May was his guardian growing up. “I moved away nine years ago. Got married and have a little girl.”

       “Welcome back home.”

       Home. It had been once, but now? Truth be told, he didn’t know where home was anymore. Rather than try to answer the comment, he asked the man about himself. “Gather you’re a newcomer.”

       “Recent. I’ve been here about a year. Judd Kirk. I married a pretty young gal from this area, and we bought a farm near town. It’s also near her home. Perhaps you know it—the Cotton place.”

       “Sure, I know it. There were a couple kids in school with me. They’re gone, you say?” They’d arrived at the general store and trod indoors.

       “Yup. Left the place lock, stock and barrel, which was handy for me.” Judd glanced around. “Why, here are my two sisters-in-law. Come and meet them.” Already Judd strode toward the young women.

       Emmet stared. Louisa. He didn’t want to see her outside the hours she tutored Ellie. Anything more felt as if he’d crossed a mental barrier he erected around his life. But of course, in a town the size of Golden Prairie, they would naturally run into each other, unless he stayed within the boundaries of Auntie May’s house and yard. He’d done that for four days and found it stifling. Still, perhaps he could excuse himself on the pretext of urgent business. But too late. Judd led the young women toward Emmet. “My sisters-in-law, Louisa and Sally Morgan.”

       “Louisa and I have already met. She’s tutoring my daughter.” Did he see the same flicker of regret over this meeting as he’d felt? The idea stung. Why should she want to avoid him? He shifted his gaze to the other girl, Sally, and greeted her.

       Judd laughed. “It’s a small world. Or should I say it’s a small town.”

       Louisa gave Judd a quick smile.

       “Sally and I are preparing to make cookies to take to the orphanage. We needed raisins.”

       “A tea party?” No mistaking the curious tone of Judd’s voice.

       “Why don’t you pick up Madge and join us?” Sally offered.

       This was obviously a family event. Emmet edged away.

       Judd stopped him. “Why don’t you come along too?”

       “I can’t.”

       “Bring your daughter. She’ll enjoy it.”

       Sally groaned. “Judd, the reason Louisa is tutoring his daughter is because Ellie is bedridden in a body cast. She can’t join us.”

       Judd grabbed Emmet’s shoulder. “Right. That would be who I made the tripod for. Oh, man, I am so sorry. That’s tough on a little girl.”

       “Thanks.”

       “Good thing you have Louisa to tutor her. Couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

       “Judd.” Louisa tried to stop her brother-in-law, but he ignored her.

       “She knows what it’s like to have to stay in bed. I admire how she’s handled her illnesses so well. I think I’d want to moan and groan and feel sorry for myself. But not Louisa—”

       Judd leaned close to Emmet and chuckled. “Don’t be fooled by her looks. She’s a fighter.”

       Emmet watched the pair of sisters gather up their small parcel and head for the door.

       Sally whispered something to Louisa and hung back. Louisa grabbed her arm and pushed her forward. Louisa paused before they exited and gave Judd a demanding look. “You’ll let Madge know right away so she can get ready?”

       Judd laughed. “I’ll get on it immediately.” The look he gave Emmet burgeoned with amusement, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I better say goodbye or face the wrath of three sisters, because if one is offended they’re all offended. Sure you can’t come along? You know—to give me a little moral support?”

       “Judd, are you coming?” Louisa’s voice was sweet and inviting, but Emmet saw the way Judd jerked to attention and guessed that beneath the gentleness lay solid, unyielding bedrock.

       “Sorry, I can’t leave my daughter.” He liked the man and wished they could spend more time together. He missed company beyond Auntie May and Ellie. “Why don’t you drop by when you get a chance?”

       Judd gave him a considering look. “I just might do that. Right now I better go find my wife and tell her of her sisters’ plans.” He hurried after Sally and Louisa.

       The store felt empty when the trio left. Emmet gave himself a mental kick. He was used to being alone, out in the open, riding the range, working with cows. Company—and companionship—was sporadic and fleeting. So why should it bother him to be left behind? He must be getting befuddled.

       He crossed to the candy selection, chose a red-and-white peppermint stick, paid for it and left the store. Ellie would be awake soon, and the candy would brighten her afternoon.

       But later, as he sat beside his daughter, watching her suck the peppermint stick, the rest of the day stretched before him, as endless as the vast horizon. The only break in sight was Louisa’s return in the morning.

       For Ellie’s sake only. The hours must be even longer for her.

      Chapter Four

      Louisa stopped at the last corner before the Hamilton home. She wasn’t eager to start the session with Ellie.

       Rather than dwell on her doubts and fears, she thought of the few hours she and her sisters had spent at the orphanage. Louisa had dreaded the event but was determined not to let her sisters know. However, from the first rowdy greeting to the last goodbye, she’d enjoyed every minute. The children were happy to see them. Several acted as if they especially liked Louisa, which was heartwarming. One of the older girls brought her some drawings she’d done and listened eagerly as Louisa showed her how to add shading and correct perspective to her rather appealing work. Another child, a girl close to Ellie’s age, brought a book and begged Louisa to read it to her.

       “What grade are you in, Leila?” she’d asked.

       “Grade one. I’m six.”

       Louisa asked her to read aloud from her reader. The child read eagerly and clearly. Ellie was in second grade and should read even better.

       Perhaps today, Louisa would discover Ellie’s reading level. She turned the corner and headed toward the house. At the front gate, she parked, gathered up determination and courage and shoved them into place, then stepped forth to face the battle. God, guide me, bless me with Your wisdom. She took the awkward parcel from the backseat.

       Emmet opened the door as she approached. He sent a questioning look at the bundle in her arms but didn’t ask about it.

       At the way he seemed to assess her, Louisa’s cheeks burned. Judd should not have told him about Louisa’s illnesses. Three bouts of pneumonia. Influenza that hit her so hard. She’d asked Madge to remind him no one outside the family must hear of Louisa’s barrenness. She didn’t want to be the recipient of pitying looks.

       “Good morning.” She kept her voice cool. Professional. She wasn’t a teacher, but she would act like one. Emmet was a parent of a student. Nothing more. “How is Ellie this morning?”

       “Okay. And you?”

       She faltered the slightest. Why did he ask? Did