Free A Hopeful Heart by Kim Vogel Sawyer

reflected dismay. She shook her head. “I never heard o’ such a thing ’cept in Texas. Don’t like to even think of it.” Her frown deepened. “You talk to the sheriff?”
    Abel blew out a snide breath. “Naw. Lazy ol’ coot. He’d want proof of somethin’ before he’d sling himself on a horse an’ look into things. An’ I don’t got proof. All I got is my instincts.”
    “Well, instincts is sometimes wrong, Abel.”
    She sounded hopeful, and Abel couldn’t blame her. He didn’t like to think someone was deliberately stealing his animals. Especially considering it seemed his ranch was the only one bothered. Why would somebody target his ranch? He didn’t know of anyone with a grudge against him.
    He sighed. “Aunt Hattie, I don’t think I’m wrong.”
    “So what’re you gonna do?”
    “Put up some of that barbed wire fence. Keep my herd closer in. Make it harder for the thief.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “ ’Course, makes it harder on me an’ my hands, too, ’cause we’ll be hauling in hay rather’n lettin’ the cows graze. But what else can I do?”
    Aunt Hattie clasped his wrist. “You can pray that the thief ’ll get an attack o’ conscience, repent, an’ stop his wicked ways.”
    Abel bit down on his tongue to hold back words of protest. Oh, he went to church regular just like his ma had taught him, and he prayed over his meals—especially when Cole did the cooking. But the last times he’d prayed— really prayed—God hadn’t paid him any mind. Pa still died of that infection. Amanda still returned to the East. Abel didn’t see much sense in giving God another opportunity to let him down.
    Aunt Hattie nibbled her lower lip. “Could you use an extra hand to keep an eye out? I could spare one o’ my men since the pupils’re doin’ a lot o’ the chores around my ranch.”
    Abel considered her suggestion, but in the end he shook his head.
    “Naw. I appreciate the offer, but the fewer people who know about this, the better. I don’t want the thief gettin’ wind that I’m on to him.
    I’m hopin’ he’ll get lazy . . . be easier for me to catch him.”
    “I hope you’re right.”
    A flurry of movement in the barn’s opening caught his attention. The girls spilled into the yard with Vince in the middle of their throng. They headed toward the wagon, still jabbering and laughing. Except for the one called Tressa. She trailed behind, her unsmiling lips pressed shut.
    Abel caught Aunt Hattie’s arm. “Remember—it’s our secret.”
    “ ’Course it is. Ours an’ God’s.”
    As Abel ambled away, he muttered, “Let’s just keep it between you an’ me.”

    Facing a corner of the bedroom, Tressa slipped her nightgown over her head, buttoned it, then turned away from the corner. Sallie stood in front of the bureau in her chemise, pawing through the bottom drawer. Tressa spun to face the corner again, her cheeks hot. The drawer banged shut and still she waited, giving Sallie adequate time to slip into her nightclothes. Finally she directed a cautious glance over her shoulder to find her roommate, attired in her simple cotton gown, grinning at her.
    “You’re a strange one, Tressa. Never met anybody so shy about herself.” Sallie laughed lightly, shaking her head. Her spiraling red curls bounced on her shoulders. “Luella asked me to move into her room now that she’s all alone, but I told her no. Now I’m thinkin’ maybe you’d be happier without someone else in your room?”
    Tressa’s heart gave a little leap. If Sallie had refused to move in with Luella, perhaps she was still interested in pursuing her fledgling friendship with Tressa. Clasping her gown closed at the neck, she sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. “You told Luella no?”
    Sallie flumped into her bed, making the springs squeak. “You heard Aunt Hattie the day we moved in. No room changin’.” She offered a pensive look. “But if you’d be happier without me underfoot, I’ll ask