Lacy Williams Read online

  But now that Emily had started putting ideas about homesteading in his head, now that he was starting to imagine what it might be like to partner with someone like her... Sam was in an awful conundrum.

  “You got your end?” he asked Oscar, hefting one side of the heavy board. Sam stuck several nails between his lips—both to secure them until he needed them and to keep from having to answer any more of his friend’s questions.

  He’d braced one hand against the board and was taking his first swing when the heavy plank slipped from his grasp.

  “Gotcha!” A pair of hands braced it before it could fall.

  Sam looked up to find himself shoulder-to-shoulder with the man Emily had pointed out when they’d first arrived.

  “Jim Bradford,” he introduced himself, before turning to greet Oscar at the other end of the board. “Morning, Oscar.”

  “Jim.”

  Sam pounded the nails with ease this time, the extra pair of hands helping enormously.

  “You riding in the Calvin Round-Up next month?” Jim asked Oscar. Sam had forgotten about the cowboy event that would feature men from all over Wyoming, Montana and Colorado. Maybe even draw some from Texas. Oscar was one of the best bronc riders around and supplemented his income with winnings from traveling to different competitions when he wasn’t helping Jonas on the spread.

  “Yep, that’s the plan,” Oscar said before Jim moved down to support his end of the plank.

  “Wanted to thank you boys for coming out today—it means a lot to me.”

  Oscar mumbled something around the nails in his teeth.

  “And a special thanks to you,” Jim said, nodding to Sam, “for helping Miss Emily with delivering that first load of lumber. It was a kind thing to do when you don’t even know us.”

  Heat burned Sam’s ears beneath his hat. He’d wrestled that wagon out to this homestead for Emily—hadn’t even spared the homeowner a thought. He cleared his throat. “Sure.”

  After Oscar had hung his end of the board, the three men worked together to do another, then moved aside when another pair of men brought several more planks and began hammering them up.

  “It’s shaping up,” Oscar said.

  Sam let his eyes roam the partially complete building. The frame had been completed earlier, and men braver than Sam scaled the skeleton roof, securing the boards overhead. With two walls to go and some work on the interior, the house should be mostly finished by the end of the day.

  “Yep. Alice and I are blessed, indeed.”

  Sam glanced askance at the man beside him. Jim couldn’t be much more than Sam’s twenty years, if any. And they were surrounded by a burned-out homestead. The devastation had been enough to make Sam gasp when he and Emily had pulled the wagon into the yard just after daybreak. Fields of blackened stubble, the house and barn burned out down to the very foundations. A pen of chickens had been the only sign of life until townspeople had begun to arrive, although Emily had said most of the livestock had run off ahead of the fires and survived.

  The other man seemed to sense Sam’s disbelief. “We got out,” he explained further. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I would’ve lost Alice or little Annie.”

  Without work to keep him occupied, Sam’s eyes wandered back to Emily, who now had her arm wrapped around her younger sister, bringing her into conversation with another young woman near the food tables. He could understand the fierceness in Jim’s voice—if anything bad were to happen to Emily, Sam would never be the same.

  Oscar slapped the other man on the shoulder. “Little Annie’s getting so big. Couldn’t believe it when I saw her toddling around this morning.”

  “I know it. And, well... we haven’t told many folks yet, but there’s gonna be another little one come winter.” Now Jim’s voice took on a slight undertone of worry.

  Sam glanced around the homestead, trying to imagine how the man would support his family. His thoughts also flicked to the notation in the bank manager’s ledger—Jim and his wife had mortgaged their place when times had been tough last year. Sam had planned to talk to the man about it today, but found he couldn’t broach the subject now.

  “Congratulations!” Oscar seemed to recognize the other man’s anxiety and his levity faded to seriousness. Sam’s friend could be serious when he tried. “You know the church will help out. My family as well.”

  “Thanks. Alice and I have been talking a lot—trying to figure out a way to keep from having to sell out and move back East, where her parents are.” Jim shifted his booted feet. “Her pa never approved of me. I’m afraid if we had to move back and live off their charity, it would just get worse.” He seemed to shake off his thoughts, and rolled his shoulders. “But that’s probably more than y’all wanted to know. Looks like they need help unloading that second lumber wagon.”

  He started to walk away, before turning back to Sam. “I know we’re behind on our loan. But we’ve got every intention to pay what we owe. I just wanted you to know that.”

  Sam reached out and Jim shook his hand. He liked the other man, couldn’t help it. It was obvious he was a hard worker and cared about his family but had just fallen on hard times.

  Those thoughts were dangerous to Sam’s mission. Could he afford to feel this compassion for those who had taken out the loans he needed to collect on?

  “C’mon. Let’s grab another couple of planks and get to it.” Oscar’s thud on Sam’s shoulder broke him out of his thoughts, and he followed his friend back to work.

  Chapter Four

  “Oh!” Emily’s startled cry wasn’t quick enough to stop the toppled glass or the spilled water that splashed onto Sam’s trousers and the picnic blanket they shared with her sister Winnie.

  “Winnie!” Emily’s distress was tangible. “Oh, Sam, I’m sorry.”

  Winnie hummed and flapped her hands above her half-empty plate, oblivious to her mistake. For a moment, Sam worried that her shifting feet would dislodge the picnic food laid out on the blanket between them, but everything remained in place as Emily tried to calm her.

  Sam was disappointed for Emily’s sake that their father didn’t take more charge of the girl, but the times he’d seen Emily’s father interact with Winnie, it seemed the man didn’t know how to relate to his youngest daughter. And that left Emily with the majority of the burden of Winnie’s care. But Emily didn’t seem to regret her situation in the least. He’d never witnessed her lose her temper with Winnie, no matter how difficult the girl could be.

  “Oh, Winnie, you’ve soaked your skirt.” Emily used the towel that had been wrapped around a loaf of bread to dab at her sister’s skirt and then the blanket. “Sam, you all right?”

  Sam brushed at the small wet patch above his knee. It really wasn’t bad. “It’s fine, ladies.” He winked at Winnie, who blinked at him with an owlish gaze. “A little water is the least of what these trousers have come across during my travels. Besides, it’s warm enough out here—I’ll be dry in no time. Maybe Miss Winnie just thought I didn’t do a good enough job washing off down at the creek before we sat down to eat.”

  “Sam!” Emily exclaimed, but her voice sounded more like a laugh and less like the tight squeak it had been a moment ago. “Well, I’m sorry, anyway. Winnie, can you say ‘sorry?’”

  A faint blush brightened Emily’s cheeks, and Sam wondered if she was embarrassed or expected him to be angry. He probably shouldn’t have, but he closed his hand over hers, stilling her frantic blotting of the blanket. “It was an accident.”

  Her hazel eyes held his for a long moment, questioning. He let her look, enjoying the moment to study her beautiful face, hoping she saw whatever answer she was looking for in him. He liked her sister. The fact that she was a little different didn’t bother him.

  “Bird!” Winnie clucked, waving her hands again and breaking the connection between them.

  Emily turned to murmur softly to her sister, calming the girl. Sam watched her unabashedly, fascinated by the pink stain still clinging
to her cheeks. Her gentle way with a sister that many would find difficult to deal with spoke of her love for Winnie. And reminded him a little of his sister’s patience with a difficult sibling—namely him when he’d been a teenager and drifting along without a purpose. Because of Penny, he’d met Jonas and because of the both of them he’d found God and found peace with himself. Emily’s soothing presence was a reminder of the family he wanted—a wife and children who could love him unconditionally. Was there any way he could be sure of Maxwell’s feelings?

  He cleared his throat. “Worked with Jim for a bit earlier. He’s... not what I thought he would be.” He’d expected the man to avoid talking about the overdue loan, but he’d admitted it, and shared his concerns about his family and livelihood. Sam had liked the man.

  “Before the wildfires, he spent time almost weekly helping some of the other homesteaders who had suffered with the winter freezes. Since then, he’s been working night and day to try and salvage what he can on his own place.”

  Emily’s gaze wandered to the pair, who played with their baby on a blanket not far away. Did she know how wistful she looked? Before Sam could comment, his four-year-old nephew Walt rushed onto the blanket, toppling Sam’s empty plate from his knee and rattling the silverware. Two-year-old Ida toddled behind him, shrieking and reaching for Sam.

  “Sorry—” Sam mumbled over an armful of toddler. “My niece and nephew.”

  “I know.” Emily waved at Walt, who had gone shy and ducked behind Sam’s shoulder. “Your sister brings them into the store occasionally.” She pointed to a piece of chocolate cake on her plate, crooking her finger, and Ida sprang from Sam’s lap to settle in Emily’s.

  Walt crept from behind Sam to perch on his knee, one finger stuck in his mouth. “Unca Sam, you gots cake?”

  Emily made quick work of juggling both the toddler in her lap and the plateful of cake while dishing out Sam a chunk of cake from the platter at her side.

  She was a natural, talking to Ida softly and holding the toddler’s attention raptly, and even bringing Winnie into the interaction, so that the two sisters’ honey-colored heads bent together.

  Penny came and collected the kids after a few moments, staying only long enough to greet Emily warmly before she attempted to get them to nap in the shade of the Whites’s wagon. When Emily turned back to Sam, he couldn’t help his grin at the small chocolate handprint on her jaw.

  He held up his kerchief, nodding to her cheek. “You’ve got a little...”

  She bent toward him and he wiped the chocolate smear, but his efforts only made it worse.

  “Here, scoot over—”

  She moved slightly closer, until her knee pressed against his thigh. He dipped the kerchief in his mason jar of water and this time captured her chin in his fingers, holding her steady so he could get the cake off.

  With the last remnants gone, he looked up, right into her eyes. He couldn’t make his fingers release her chin. What he really wanted to do was lean forward and kiss her. He even inched toward her, his Stetson brushing the wisps above her forehead.

  Then Winnie squealed, breaking the moment, and he remembered where they really were. Surrounded by people. Although no one seemed to be paying them any attention, he would never shame Emily by kissing her in public.

  Especially when he shouldn’t even be considering kissing her at all.

  * * *

  Had Sam almost kissed her?

  As the men returned to the house that was taking shape beneath their many hands, Emily settled her sister for a rest on their picnic blanket in the shade.

  Her shaking hands and swirling thoughts were not so easily settled as she gathered their dishes to wash them out in the large tubs set up for just that purpose.

  The way he’d looked at her so intently—his fingers warm on her jaw—she really thought he was going to kiss her. And she would have let him.

  She pressed one hand against her stomach as butterflies threatened to displace the chocolate cake she’d enjoyed with Sam’s niece.

  Seeing him every day in the shop in the last week and a half had reaffirmed their friendship. And his gentleness and patience with Winnie had her wondering if she could be falling in love with the handsome cowboy-turned-banker.

  Today, he’d seemed so much at ease. More a cowboy, with his broad shoulders straining beneath a chambray shirt, working alongside the men of town. And a little scruffy, unshaven after being outside all night. She’d seen him talking with Jim Bradford and Oscar and hoped that he would begin to understand that money wasn’t everything—that the people were important.

  She’d hoped to bring up her family’s money situation on the wagon ride home. But with the emotions swirling through her at this very moment, Emily wasn’t sure she should. Would Sam think she was exploiting what was growing between them—whatever this all-encompassing, heart-pounding emotion was?

  Would she be manipulating what was between them?

  And why did that thought squeeze her insides into a tiny, painful ball?

  Chapter Five

  Sam listened to the steady, even cadence of Oscar’s voice as the other man worked an unbroken mare using a long line in the round corral.

  “Easy, boy.” He slung the saddle his friend had requested he bring from the lean-to over the corral railing and leaned on his elbows next to it, finding himself lulled by Oscar’s manner with the horse.

  Or maybe his sense of relaxation came from doing what he considered “real work” with his friend. Being out in the open, working the horses under the cloudless blue sky had a certain peace about it that he still couldn’t find in the office at his father’s bank. He’d felt the tension he’d carried for the last days start to fade the moment he’d decided to spend this beautiful Saturday working with Oscar instead of behind his desk.

  “You bored yet, Mr. Banker?” Oscar’s voice carried from inside the corral, even though he spoke in the same tone he’d been using to work the horse.

  It was just the two of them in the corral Oscar had built across the valley from Jonas’s place. Up the hill aways was the nearly finished cabin that Oscar planned to occupy. With the help of Jonas and his brothers, it had gone up the past spring, and Oscar planned to finish it this summer.

  “No.” Sam wasn’t bored at all. He was wondering how he could finish out the remaining two weeks he’d promised his father. He’d made small inroads on collecting some of the overdue loan payments, something the bank manager apparently hadn’t worked very hard on, but the bank was still a long way from making a profit.

  He was coming to discover the difficulty of collecting the loan payments wasn’t why he was chafing at the bank. He knew he could do a good job, given enough time. But Sam was beginning to think he wasn’t meant to be a banker. He missed being outdoors. Missed working with his hands, and seeing the fruits of his own labors, not just collecting on someone else’s labors.

  And he didn’t want to think about the bank today.

  “Your place is taking shape,” he commented, working to marshal his thoughts.

  Oscar nodded, mouth curling with pride. “Another couple of wins in the summer’s round-ups, and I’ll be able to afford the stallion I’ve really been wanting. And if that doesn’t play out, I’ve got a lead on a good-paying job for later this fall—a well-off rancher up north looking for a trainer for a fancy-pants colt he’s got.” Oscar sent a grin over his shoulder. “I’m anxious to get started with the breeding program I have in mind.”

  Sam let his eyes rove the herd of quality animals that grazed between Oscar’s place and Jonas’s. He’d heard about his friend’s plans to raise horses since they’d known each other as teens. Oscar’s dreams were all panning out, but Sam still didn’t know what he really wanted to do with his life.

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.” Sam tried to keep the slight envy he felt out of his voice. “You’d better watch out, though. Some gal’s going to find out you’ve got this beautiful place built, a livelihood all r
eady to go. One of these days, someone is going to lasso you and haul you to the altar.”

  Oscar released the horse from the pattern he’d been running it through and turned to spear his friend with a look as sharp as a whip crack.

  “After seein’ you with Emily at the house-raising, seems like getting hitched is what you really want.”

  And that was Sam’s real problem. There was no denying it—he was falling in love with Emily Sands. And if her welcoming smiles the last couple of days were any indication, she might have growing feelings for him as well.

  “So what’s stopping you?” Oscar asked. “How come you’re out here with me instead of courting your gal in town today?”

  Sam scuffed the toe of his boot in the soft dirt. “You said before you thought Maxwell was over her. But your brother is a real private person. What if he still has feelings for her?”

  Oscar’s eyes narrowed. “If you really love her, you won’t let a little problem like that stand in your way.”

  “But he’s my best friend.”

  “And you’re his. He would want you to be happy.”

  But how could Sam be sure?

  * * *

  With only one week left until the deadline his father had imposed, Sam should probably be spending the evening at the bank, trying to find a bit more profit for his formidable father. But when Emily had invited him to the housewarming party for the Bradfords, he hadn’t been able to say “no.”