LITMIR.BIZ

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go see if your pa needs help. I heard him say something about shelves.” He headed for the door.

      Little Joe scrambled after him.

      Colt stopped and squatted to the boy’s level. “You stay here with Marie. I’ll be right there.” He pointed toward the door.

      Marie joined them and took Little Joe’s hand. “I’ll look after him.” Her voice trembled.

      Becca guessed Marie hated to let Colt out of her sight as much as her brother did, but intended to be brave for Little Joe’s sake.

      Colt straightened slowly, his gaze finding a place on the floor to study. Then he lifted his eyes to Becca, and she saw regret and resignation. He clearly understood the children’s fear. And no doubt knew better than most what their future held.

      He squatted before them and pulled them both to his chest. “I won’t ever leave without telling you first, so if I say I’m going to help Mr. Macpherson, you can count on me coming back. Okay?”

      “Okay.” Marie straightened and pulled Little Joe to her side. “You go help. We’ll help Becca.”

      Colt chuckled. “There you go. We all have something to do.”

      Becca’s throat tightened with emotion. If only she had the power to change what the future held for these children.

      * * *

      Colt had no trouble getting Macpherson to let him tackle making shelves in the storeroom. He concentrated on sawing lumber to the right length and affixing sturdy shelving to hold a dizzying array of goods.

      “The country is opening up,” Macpherson said as he moved crates and adjusted boxes. “The Gardiners have a lease and are establishing a large ranching operation. I expect I will get the most of their business.” He held the end of a board while Colt nailed it to the supports. When it was in place, Macpherson shook it hard.

      “Needs to be good and solid.” He nodded with satisfaction when the shelf didn’t budge. “The OK Ranch was here first, but they’ve had some problems with managers. The Gardiner place won’t be having any such problems. Not with Eddie Gardiner himself running it. Calls the place Eden Valley Ranch.”

      Colt measured and cut another board, but curiosity overtook his normal silence. “Why is Eddie Gardiner so important?”

      “He’s the son of some rich lord, or something fancy like that, back in England. I hear they’re rolling in money.”

      A fine rich man. The sort who would look down his nose at half-breeds, and likely kick them in passing.

      Macpherson continued talking. “I rode out that way during the summer. Impressive place, indeed. Those buildings will stand for a hundred years or more.” He looked about the storeroom. “They have a supply shed as big as this room. The whole place is laid out like a little town. Very impressive. You ought to go have a look.”

      Colt gave a noncommittal grunt.

      “Say.” Macpherson studied Colt as if seeing him for the first time. “You any good with horses?”

      Colt grinned. “Some think so.”

      Macpherson chuckled. “I expect that’s your way of saying you got a reputation to uphold.”

      “Could be.” He measured for the next shelf.

      “If you’re as good as you say, you might consider signing on with the Eden Valley Ranch.”

      Colt gave a snort of laughter. “Don’t recall saying I was good.”

      “That’s what made me figure you were.” Macpherson grinned at Colt.

      Colt kept his attention on his work. Seems Macpherson liked him a whole lot better when he wasn’t around his daughter. Nothing surprising about that. Colt didn’t suppose it would ever change. Yet the way Becca smiled at him, the way she spoke to him, her look and words so inviting...

      He realized he grinned foolishly at a length of board and stilled his silly thoughts. But it took more than the normal habit of pushing aside his feelings to quiet his heart.

      A customer came into the store, and Macpherson left to wait on him.

      Colt continued working steadily throughout the afternoon. But his disobedient thoughts kept harking back to Becca—the way she spoke so gently and kindly to the children, the way she smiled at him.

      He paused, a hammer dangling from his hand. His experience warned him that the children’s future would be unlike this visit here. How happy would they be? At least the teacher would give them a home. He could only hope—and perhaps, pray—they would find much more in her care.

      Marie stepped into the room and smiled up at him. “Miss Becca says to come for supper.”

      Colt hesitated. Was he only making things worse for her and Little Joe by accepting Becca and her pa’s kind invitation? But what could he do? He’d given his word.

      His choices were either stay and guard his heart, or leave and break his word—and likely two tiny hearts. Really no choice at all. He followed Marie into the store.

      Becca stood in the doorway, favoring them all with a shining smile. “It’s ready and waiting. Marie helped with the potatoes.”

      “Well, then.” Macpherson rubbed his hands together. “We’d best see if she did a good job or not.” He nodded at Colt. “Come along.”

      Colt’s feet felt like lead and his heart clenched with a well-developed caution, but how could he refuse with Marie looking pleased with herself and Becca smiling a welcome? It wasn’t as if her father seemed reluctant. Maybe he should accept this blessing for now. Then he would go back to being Colt Johnson, a loner half-breed.

      “Let’s taste those potatoes.”

      He scooped Little Joe into his arms and followed after Marie and Macpherson. The warmth of the room, full of savory smells, welcomed him as no other meal had. Only he knew it wasn’t the room or the scents. It was Becca’s smile.

      Simply the politeness of a well-bred woman, he reasoned. No need for him to think it meant anything else.

      They sat down and waited as Macpherson said grace, then Becca saw to passing the food around. A richly flavored pot roast, boiled potatoes in odd clunky shapes, gravy and turnips.

      Marie watched him carefully as he took a scoop of the potatoes and poured on gravy.

      “Yum. These are the best potatoes I’ve ever had.” And they were. He understood it had nothing to do with the flavor of the food, but everything to do with two pairs of eyes—Becca’s blue ones and Marie’s black—observing him. As if his opinion mattered a great deal.

      He tried in vain to bring his thoughts into rational order, but they tripped along their merry path, undeterred by his silent warnings.

      He pushed aside the mental warfare to address the eager-eyed child. “You did a fine job, Marie.”

      She wriggled with pleasure and turned to Macpherson for his opinion.

      “I do believe Colt is right. Best potatoes ever.”

      Marie practically glowed, and Becca looked as pleased as if she had received the praise herself.

      A most generous woman. A very unusual woman. He couldn’t see her fitting in back east, though his only way of judging that was through the people he’d met from that direction. Mostly stiff, judgmental individuals who saw Colt and those like him as oddities, or much worse.

      His skin tightened as he recalled the name a pair near the fort not so many days ago had applied to him. Dirty savage.

      The meal over, he sprang to his feet to walk to the window. Marie scampered from her chair and insisted on helping with the dishes.

      He listened to Becca instructing her, sweetly and patiently. Kindly.

      “It’s

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