Free Little Sam's Angel by Larion Wills

looking into the empty front room, he started to wonder again about the house. He'd found what little there was boxed up in the barn, no doubt done by Smith before he moved out, some beat up pans and dishes, a rickety table and two chairs. Made him wonder why it'd been moved out. Why had she gone to the trouble and expense of building so nice a house? She already had one, so why waste the money building a second one before she even had possession of the land it set on? Hedges had started to say something about her having it built, and she'd cut him off. He was going to ask Hedges about that the next time he saw him, and he was going to ask him about that garden. She sure enough knew about it. A garden that size hadn't been planted to provide for one man, and she'd come asking to pick the vegetables out of it.
    Even if he couldn't remember anything after Pierce pulled him off that wagon, he was so embarrassed over what he'd said to her in that rage, he couldn't get his tongue untied when she was around. When he did, everything he said seemed to sound wrong, even his clumsy apology. He hadn't said anything right since, either.
    Well, maybe he did say one thing right. He hadn't thought she would believe it, but he had enough pride left to tell her Danny wasn't his and to his surprise she’d believed him. Seemed she had anyway 'cause she hadn't shunned him.
    One thing about Hedges, he was dead right in a lot of the things he said. Miss Mentrol didn't belong with the same brand as other women just because she was a woman. Gabe had never met a woman like her. She had quite a wallop for such a little thing and smacked him a good one that set him back on his heels when he'd called Danny a bastard after Brenda left. At the same time she was as gentle as a mouse with Danny. No, mouse wasn't quite right. Maybe cat was better. Cats could be almighty vicious when they got riled, but one of the gentlest creatures alive when that was their mood, and they were good mamas. No, cat wasn't right either. Sammy—Miss Mentrol—wasn't a vicious person. She'd been mad clear through over what he'd said, and she had shown it. Plenty of spirit and guts in that little package.
    He pondered about that for a bit, wondering just how to describe her. Then he decided he couldn't compare her to something or someone else, because like Hedges said, there wasn't another one like her.
    Too damn bad he'd started off so wrong with her. Then he shut that thought down in a hurry. What was too bad was that she was rich. She might be short of cash, nothing new to a cattle ranch, but she had the land and cattle, horses, too, if she had enough to be auctioning some off. That wasn't all, either. She was spoiled, used to having her own way, bossing her own outfit and a crew of men, and too independent to make a good wife.
    That thought startled him. Who was he to be thinking of her as a wife? Who was he to be thinking of any woman as a wife? For that matter, who was he to be thinking of any woman as his wife. He'd made a mess of his own life and had enough to take care of, making some kind of living for himself and Danny. He sure didn't need any more to worry about.
    He shook the water off his hands impatiently and went to bed. Yet, lying on the straw pallet, he continued to think of her, of how pretty she was, mad or somber. He wondered how she looked laughing, and then remembered he'd seen her almost laugh; only he had cut her humor short by being rude.
    He was willing to bet it'd be easy to make her laugh full out and a pleasant sight to see. Then he chided himself again and shifted his mind to think of the work he had ahead of him. That helped him to fall asleep, but the next morning she was right back in his thoughts.
    Danny cried, wanting his breakfast. The first thing Gabe saw when he walked into the small bedroom was the bars of the crib Danny had his little face pressed up against. She'd thought of the baby needing a safe place to sleep and seen to it that he