Mckinley's Miracle. Mary Kate Holder

if we woke you, Lisa.”

      She stifled a yawn. “No. I’ve been awake on and off since you left,” she said, sparing Clayton a glance.

      “Coffee’s hot.”

      Lisa looked over at the pot as if it were booby-trapped. “Did you make it?”

      Lucy sighed. “Yes, I did.”

      “I’ll pass. One medical emergency a day is all you can handle.” She sat down beside Lucy, casting a wary glance at Clayton before looking at her. “You should have taken me with you.”

      Lucy smiled and shook her head. “I needed you here to keep Max calm. You’re the only one who can sweet-talk him.”

      “I just let her think she can,” said the boy in question, coming into the kitchen, his curly blond hair tousled, his eyes sleepy. “I ache all over, Lucy. I hope you knocked him on his fat old butt.”

      Clayton grinned at the sentiment as Lucy fussed over Max, but one look at the boy when he turned around, wearing nothing but bright red shorts, and he was tempted to go find Gerry Anderson and administer a dose of the man’s own medicine. A bruise covered one side of Max’s face. His thin body bore the evidence of his fall. Ugly purple cuts, painful-looking scratches and skin scraped raw. Behind Max two more kids ambled in. The oldest, a dark-haired boy, teetered on the brink of manhood and adopted the stance of a warrior. He was a born survivor. It was in his eyes. The girl standing beside him was younger than Lisa—about fourteen. Her hair was long and red, her smile infectious.

      “This is Clayton McKinley. He’s our neighbour from Cable Downs,” Lucy said by way of introduction.

      Thomas narrowed his intense glare on Clayton.

      “We didn’t mean to wake everyone. Coffee’s hot, Thomas.”

      He looked suspicious. “Who made it?”

      Lucy made an aggrieved sound. “I made the darn coffee. Besides, McKinley’s drinking it and he hasn’t keeled over yet.”

      Thomas shrugged. “It don’t mean he won’t.”

      Actually Clayton had yet to taste the coffee she’d made him. He’d tasted bad coffee before. He’d tasted coffee so strong it could anaesthetize a bull at fifty paces. Now he eyed the cup wondering just how bad Lucy’s brew was.

      “You’re quite safe, McKinley,” she said, interpreting his look. “I haven’t killed anybody yet.”

      Thomas scoffed. “The way you make coffee it’s just a matter of time.”

      The redhead swatted him playfully on the arm. “Leave Lucy alone.” Then she smiled at Clayton. “I’m Katie.” She gave Lucy a pointed look. “He’s cute. How about you tie him to your bed and keep him?”

      Clayton nearly choked on the mouthful of cake he’d just eaten, and Lucy felt a perverse sense of satisfaction. After having him throw her off balance more than once tonight, turnabout was proving highly entertaining.

      “I don’t collect men like stray animals, Katie. We met tonight. The car ran out of petrol on the highway and McKinley was kind enough to help me out.”

      Thomas pulled out a chair beside Clayton and plonked into it. “Did you find the guy?” he asked Lucy.

      “I found him,” she said. “I handled the whole situation rationally and calmly just the way it needed to be.”

      Clayton chuckled and Lucy shot him a warning look to keep his mouth shut, which he promptly ignored.

      “I’ve seen rational,” he told her. “And I’ve seen calm. But walking into a bar and challenging a guy twice your size in front of all his friends doesn’t qualify as either, Lucy.” He looked her straight in the eye. “You showed more guts than a lot of men I know.”

      Thomas straightened as if he’d been shot and glared at Clayton. “She did that? You were there?”

      Clayton nodded. “You would have been proud of her.” He glanced across at Lucy, who looked fit to strangle him. “She might be small, but there’s nothing tiny about her temper.”

      Katie hoisted herself onto the waist-high breakfast bar. “Did you at least punch him out or kick him you-know-where?” At the look Clayton gave her, she added, “Lucy knows self-defence.”

      Clayton could have sworn there was a thinly veiled warning in there. He smiled. “I know. She took lessons a while back.”

      Thomas glared at her. “You walked in there with no one at your back? That’s the quickest way there is to wind up dead.”

      Lucy knew she’d allowed her anger to cloud her judgement and she’d put herself in a dangerous position. She had to be more careful. Her family needed her.

      “You’re right, Thomas. I shouldn’t have gone alone.”

      Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

      “Yeah, well,” he said, looking embarrassed at his display of concern. “Don’t go doing it again, okay? Any creep who’d hurt a kid as small as Max wouldn’t be afraid of taking on a woman.”

      “Hey, I’m not small,” Max grumbled, wiping his eyes while avoiding the bruises. Clayton noticed now that his lip was cut too. “I’ll get bigger…but I don’t want to ride anymore.”

      Clayton cautiously sipped the coffee while Lucy was fussing over Max. After the first taste, he placed the mug back on the table, forcing the liquid down his throat. Lucy’s coffee wasn’t bad. It was toxic. He heaped four sugars into it hoping it might at least make the stuff palatable.

      “Where did you get the horse?”

      “Col Peterson sold me three.” Lucy stroked Max’s head. “Give it a few days until the soreness goes away, sweetie, and then you can take her out again.”

      The boy shook his head emphatically. Clayton had been around horses since before he could talk and had been riding them—albeit in his father’s arms—since before he’d taken his first steps.

      “School doesn’t start back for another week,” Clayton said, “so anytime you want to come over to the Downs we could use another hand.” And maybe he could coax this kid not to give up on horse riding just yet. He’d let the fear recede first and then see what happened.

      “Do you have jillaroos?” asked Katie, her excitement barely contained. “Everything is equal opportunity now, you know.”

      Clayton hid a smile. “I don’t have a problem with that. You’ll find as many women doing farm labouring as there are men. In fact, we have three regular shed hands who hire on each year for shearing and they’re female.”

      Katie’s eyes widened. “How about it, Lucy?”

      Lucy didn’t really have a choice. Clayton McKinley had put the idea out there guessing she would never deny the kids the opportunity. If she had to have the kids learning from anyone, it might as well be him.

      “All right, you can do it.”

      “Sounds like I just hired myself two more hands.” He looked to Thomas and then to Lisa. “The invitation to visit is extended to all of you.” Thomas nodded slowly. Lisa shrugged.

      “When you said hired, did you mean as in paid?”

      “Max!” Lucy cast an apologetic look at her guest.

      Clayton smiled. “All our hands get paid, even our part-timers.”

      “No, McKinley, you’ve done—”

      “Nothing more than hire extra hands to help around the farm. We’ve got fences to mend, stock to move and crops to finish harvesting, if they don’t get washed away first. I’ve got three orphaned lambs and no doubt we’ll have more before lambing season is over. Then there’s always the stables to muck out.”

      Clayton