Free Sweetwater by Dorothy Garlock Page B

isn’t something I know a lot about. Thank goodness you spent time in the kitchen at home, or we’d starve.”
    “You need some hired help if you’re going to stay here.”
    “We’re staying. That disgusting man hopes to run us off, but we’re staying,” she said again. “As soon as I can get to town, I’ll hire a cook. The children need better meals than I’m capable of making.”
    “What makes you think Havelshell doesn’t want you here?”
    “It’s obvious. Oh, I don’t think it’s me … personally. For some reason, he doesn’t want a teacher to occupy this ranch. Why else would the school be torn up, the books and slates destroyed? Why else would he dam up the stream so the horses can’t get to water, or take the rope and pulley from the well? Why else would he tell us there were chickens when there never have been chickens here? He wanted us to think the Indians had stolen them.” Her eyes flared with indignation. “It’s clear to me that he’s trying to discourage and frighten me so I’ll back out of my contract with the Bureau.”
    “Has he succeeded?”
    “He’s only made me angry and more determined than ever to stay here.” Jenny’s face relaxed and she laughed. It was the loveliest sound Trell had ever heard. “I realize that I’m ill equipped for this life, but I will learn. The girls and I are going to stay and claim Stoney Creek Ranch when the terms of the will are met.”
    “You’ll need help.”
    “Yes, I know. Will you be our friend?” she asked on a sudden impulse.
    “You can bank on it.”
    “Jen … ny. I don’t like these old beans.” Beatrice put her spoon down hard on the table.
    “Are you married, Mr. McCall?” Cassandra moved the plate of cookies to within Beatrice’s reach. “Take one,” she ordered. The younger girl swallowed her mouthful of cookie and stuck her tongue out at her sister. Cassandra ignored her, and said to Trell, “Well, are you?”
    “No, Cass. I’ve not found a woman who’d have me.”
    “Well. Virginia isn’t married either and, of course, I’m too young. She may get desperate enough to take you.”
    “Cassandra! If you’re not the limit!”
    Trell observed Jenny’s rosy cheeks. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement, and he thought for a brief moment of how soft those cheeks would be if he stroked them.
    “I’d not be that lucky, Cass.”
    Jenny and Cass cleared the table. Trell watched. His mind was filled with impressions filed away to bring out and think about later. The past hour had been the most pleasant he could remember. He’d not even minded that he’d had to swallow a couple of times after every bite he took. He liked the way Jenny admitted her shortcomings. He admired her spunk for refusing to let Havelshell frighten her and for taking up for Whit Whitaker, the Indian boy. He liked the way she treated her sisters.
    With that reddish brown hair and green eyes, she was a sight to see. When she got off the stage, she had been all dressed up in fancy clothes and he’d thought her a beautiful haughty woman. She was prettier now with her face reddened by the heat from the fire, her dress dirty and wetly clinging to her slender, young figure. Uncomfortable at his observation, Trell averted his eyes.
    He was not sure that she realized how dangerous it was for her and the girls to be here alone. He fully intended, before he left, to bring up an idea that had begun floating around in his mind.
    With the dishes in the big pan, Jenny poured cups of tea for herself and Trell, then spoke to Cassandra.
    “Honey, would you take Beatrice outside while I talk with Mr. McCall?”
    “I’ll let her look at my picture book. Whatever you have to say to Mr. McCall will affect me and Beatrice, and I want to hear it.”
    Trell was surprised to hear Jenny say, “Very well. Would you like a cup of tea?”
    “No, thank you.”
    After getting Beatrice settled, Cassandra sat down at the table and waited for the conversation to