Free A Restless Wind by Siara Brandt

“I hope you made enough food.  We’ll have a hungry crowd for breakfast this morning.”
         “I’ve made enough for an army, Zeb,”  his sister informed him as she deftly flipped hotcakes on the large iron griddle.  “You can call them in.”
         Pierce Champlin held a chair out for Hetty.  Pierce had worked at the Circle I since he was nine years old.  He was different from the other cowboys.  He had come to the ranch, an orphan like her and Uncle Zeb had given him first a home and then a job.  At first Pierce did chores around the ranch house.  And then, being around the other men all the time, he quickly learned to rope and ride and was now the best hand they had.
         But Pierce was more than just a ranch hand.  Aunt Isabel had taken Pierce under her wing from the beginning.  She had never had children of her own but she was a generous woman with a warm and loving disposition.  She had come from Boston before she had met Zebadiah.  She had been a well-educated woman and believed so strongly in the importance of an education that when Pierce had shown an interest in books, she had schooled him along with Hetty.
         Many cold winter days and nights, when the ranch work slowed down, Pierce and Hetty would sit here at the kitchen table, with the pleasant warmth of the stove and the irresistible smells of Aunt Isabel’s baking filling the room as she listened to them read.
         The men stood, waiting while Hetty and Lieta seated themselves and then everyone took their places at the table.  Zebadiah, sitting at the head of the table, scowled as he shook his head.  “Things have gone from bad to worse.  Women and children disappearing from their homes.  G ood men shot down and beaten-  ”  He gave them all a meaningful look and said grimly,  “You saw John Forbes’ face.”
         Delia turned from the stove and brought a towering stack of steaming hotcakes to the table.  She wiped her hands on her apron, then sat down beside her brother and joined the conversation.
         “The cowards,”  Delia remarked in a low voice as she unfolded her napkin.  “I suppose they feel they have done a very brave thing frightening women and children in the middle of the night.  Zeb, isn’t there any local law out here that you can turn to?”
         “Law!”  Zeb exclaimed derisively as he passed a plate heaped high with biscuits to his right.  “Hell, no!”
         “Zeb,”  his sister gently remonstrated, reminding him not to use profanity at the table.
         “Pardon me, ladies,”  Zeb apologized.  “Our local sheriff,”  he went on as he generously buttered his stack of hotcakes.  “Doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.  How he got into office in the first place remains a mystery to me.  A lot of the ranchers around here have had run-ins with him.  Including me.  No,”  he declared as he reached for the tin of maple syrup.  “The law failed John Forbes.  Just like it failed Sara Cade and her daughter.”
         “Well, I think it’s just dreadful,”  Delia said with a shake of her head.
         “I hope this isn’t spoiling your visit,”  Zeb said with a glance at his sister.  He shifted his gaze to Lieta.  “We sure couldn’t anticipate any of this happening.”
         “Goodness, no, Zeb,”  Delia replied.  “We’re glad to be of help.  Besides, we can honestly say that there hasn’t been a dull moment since we arrived.”
         Across the table, Lieta touched her napkin to her lips and agreed.  “That’s true.  It is a decided change from Boston.
         “What a frightening experience for you, Hetty,”  Lieta said, turning her head with a little toss of her curls.  “Imagine riding out alone in the dark of night and out there, too, are men who intended-  why, heaven knows what might have happened.  I know I should have been terrified.”
         At Hetty’s side, Pierce said with a