LITMIR.BIZ

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down. Seth turned to help Rebecca down but Jacob assisted her, his gentleness evident in the way he held her hand until she got her balance. Clayton had climbed out of the wagon and helped Joy down, as well. Benjamin scrambled over the side.

      “Whoa! Where do you think you’re going?” Seth asked, moving to block the boy’s descent.

      Benjamin jerked away from him. “To help Ma.”

      “Not today. I need every man’s help to load lumber and nails.”

      Benjamin’s little chest puffed out. “I get to help?”

      “You’re one of the men,” Seth said, walking back to the front of the wagon.

      He grinned as Benjamin whispered, “Did ya hear that, Ma? I’m one of the men.”

      At least he’d made good points with one of the Young men.

      * * *

      Rebecca took Joy’s small hand within hers and entered the general store. A bell rang out announcing their arrival. She inhaled the onslaught of scents that greeted her. Spices and leather fought the strongest for her attention. Colorful burlap flour bags lined the middle shelf, right at eye level, and she ran a hand over them, her mind zipping along with plans for Joy’s next dress. The material proved soft to the touch and Joy loved to spin around, showing off the big flower design.

      Joy’s hand tightened on hers as if giving a warning and she looked up. The owner of the general store, a mountain of a man, approached them. She glanced down at her daughter, wondering if Joy felt the same sense of unease she herself did around him.

      “Hello, Mrs. Young. What can I help you find today?” He kneeled down in front of Joy. “How are you today, Miss Joy.”

      As was her custom, Joy hid her face in Rebecca’s skirt. She mumbled, “Good.”

      He held out his large hand. On top of his palm rested a lemon drop. “I’m glad to hear that.” His big brown eyes looked up at Rebecca. “Cat got your tongue today?”

      Rebecca felt her ire rising. The man never did or said anything out of place; but he constantly made her feel uneasy. She handed him her list. “Hello, Mr. Edwards.” She patted Joy’s back. “Go ahead and take the candy, Joy.”

      Joy tentatively took the candy and popped it into her mouth. Around the sweet she said, “Thank you.”

      Mr. Edwards laughed loudly and stood. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” His gaze moved to the list and he whistled. “I see the men running the Pony Express pay you well.”

      The list was longer than usual but Rebecca didn’t really understand why he assumed that Mr. Russell gave her the money for the items. Still, she didn’t correct him. She’d let him think what he wanted.

      John had left his family in good financial stability. Thanks to his wisdom with money matters and his inheritance, she and Joy would never have to work a day of their lives. But it wasn’t enough to give the boys money to start their lives. John had said the Pony Express would give them the money they needed and open doors for each of them. She prayed it would be so.

      Once more Rebecca felt the store owner’s brown eyes focused on her. “The church picnic is this Sunday. Would you like me to come out to the farm and escort you and the children to it?”

      He’d never been so bold before. Rebecca’s hand fluttered to her chest. What would her older boys think of Mr. Edwards calling them children? She focused on the best way to reject him. “Thank you, Mr. Edwards, but that won’t be necessary.”

      Something flashed in his eyes before he turned away from her. “You might reconsider—I hear the road bandits are becoming bolder. I’m sure they wouldn’t have a problem taking a single woman’s wagon and any cash she carried from her and a passel of kids.”

      Did he think she and the boys were helpless? Heat filled her face and boiled through her blood. If so, was he threatening her?

      She took a deep breath to calm herself. Experience had taught her to carefully consider her words before speaking. Her father-in-law, on the other hand, had often said plain talk was easily understood and that was just what the man in front of her would get.

      “I don’t need a man to take care of me, Mr. Edwards. The good Lord has protected us through many dangerous situations and I have no doubt He will continue to do so. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my boys are no longer little boys, but men.” As an afterthought she added, “But thanks so very much for your concern and for the invite.”

      Joy poked her head out. Her sweet young voice broke the awkward silence between the adults. Worry lined her words. “Mr. Armstrong and Jacob will be with us, won’t they, Ma?”

      She stroked her daughter’s silky hair, wishing Joy hadn’t broken her silence. “Yes, sweetie. There is nothing to fear.”

      The bell over the door jingled again. Rebecca turned to see Mrs. Little and her eldest daughter enter the store. She wondered if all the women in the area brought someone with them when they came to visit the general store.

      Mr. Edwards paid no heed to the other two women. “Mr. Armstrong?” His eyes bore into Joy’s as he waited for an answer. “Who is this Mr. Armstrong?”

      Joy tucked her head behind Rebecca’s skirt again. Rebecca stepped in front of her daughter, protecting her from questions she had no knowledge how to answer. “I’d like to get our supplies as soon as possible, Mr. Edwards. The men will be back shortly to pick us up.”

      Mrs. Little waited until the storekeeper went to retrieve the items on Rebecca’s list. “So you have a new man working for you?” she asked.

      Well, it sure hadn’t taken long for that little tidbit to make its way around the gossip mill. She had learned one thing living in Dove Creek and that was people had very little to occupy their minds, so interest in the people around them bordered on harassment. However, Rebecca couldn’t dismiss the older woman as easily as she had Mr. Edwards. She’d been raised to respect her elders, and Mrs. Little could easily have been her mother. “He doesn’t exactly work for me.”

      Mr. Edwards moved closer to them. He continued to add items to the box he’d begun to fill, but seemed to linger ever so near.

      “I see.” The condemning sound in Mrs. Little’s voice had Rebecca quickly explaining.

      “Mr. Armstrong works for the Pony Express. He’s been hired to be the station keeper by Mr. Bromley.” Rebecca moved to the fabric, where she knew Mr. Edwards couldn’t pretend to be gathering her supplies, since she hadn’t added any sewing notions to her list.

      Mrs. Little followed. “Is this a young man, dear?”

      Joy followed her mother about the fabric table. She picked up an edge to a pink print and said, “This is pretty.”

      Rebecca touched the material. “I’m not sure his age, Mrs. Little. I only just met him this morning.”

      The daughter snorted, drawing a frown from her mother’s face. “Catherine, that is very rude.”

      Catherine was a newly married woman, but still had enough respect for her parent to look contrite and say “Sorry, Ma.”

      Mrs. Little patted her daughter’s hand and turned her attention back to Rebecca. “Is he older than your pa?”

      Rebecca hated this line of questioning. She knew where the older woman was going and didn’t like it. “No, but I don’t know how much younger than Pa he is.”

      “Is he married?” Catherine asked, admiring a blue print.

      Rebecca frowned. “I don’t know that, either.”

      “Then what do you know?” Mr. Edwards asked.

      “I know he showed up this morning, helped us put the fire out that burned our barn and announced that he is the new station keeper. That’s all I know.” Rebecca waved at

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