Free A Big Sky Christmas by William W. Johnstone, J. A. Johnstone Page A

work.
    â€œGood Lord!” Bradford exclaimed. “MacCallister, no! Those are my children.”
    Jamie straightened, took his hands away from his revolvers, and willed the snarl off his face. He drew in a deep breath and smiled as he nodded to the children. “Sorry, younkers. I didn’t mean to spook you. It’s not a good idea to come running up behind an old-timer like me, though. We spook easy.”
    The boy swallowed. “That’s all right, mister. We didn’t mean to scare you.”
    That brought a genuine chuckle from Jamie. “That’s all right. Just don’t do it again.”
    â€œThis is a perfect example of why we don’t need some gunman accompanying this wagon train,” Bradford said from behind him. “Guns never bring anything but trouble.”
    Jamie glanced over his shoulder at the reverend. “If you ever get set upon by Indians or road agents, you’ll be mighty happy to have somebody around who knows how to handle a shooting iron. Now, why don’t you introduce me to these young’uns of yours?”
    Grudgingly, Bradford performed the introductions. “This is my son Alexander and my daughter Abigail.”
    â€œWe’re twins,” Alexander told Jamie.
    Jamie nodded. “I can see that. How old are you?”
    â€œWe’re ten,” Alexander replied.
    â€œAnd our mama’s dead,” Abigail added.
    Jamie looked at Bradford again. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    â€œIt’s true that I’m a widower,” the preacher said. “My dear wife, rest her soul, went to be with our Lord more than a year ago.”
    â€œSo you’ve been raising these little ones by yourself since then?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Bradford said. “Bringing them up in the way they should be raised.”
    Alexander said, “We’re not so little.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Abigail said. “We’re just the right size for our age.”
    Jamie grinned down at her. “I reckon that’s true, missy. I didn’t mean any offense.”
    â€œThat’s all right,” Abigail said graciously. “You’re pretty big for your age, aren’t you?”
    â€œI reckon you could say that.”
    Bradford asked, “What do you children want? I thought you were going to play with the Harper youngsters today.”
    â€œWe were,” Alexander said, “but we saw you talking to Mr. MacCallister. Billy Harper says that he’s a famous gunman and Indian fighter. We wanted to get a look at him close up.”
    â€œDo you think the Indians will scalp us, Mr. MacCallister?” Abigail asked.
    â€œDon’t you worry about that,” Jamie told her. “It’s my job to see to it that nobody hurts you, Indians or anybody else.”
    â€œYou’ll take care of us, then?”
    â€œWell . . . that’s really your pa’s job. But I’ll help him any way I can.”
    â€œAll right,” Alexander said, evidently satisfied by Jamie’s answer. “Let’s go, Abby. Billy said he knew where there was a dead frog we can look at.”
    The two children turned and ran off. Jamie watched them go, then looked at Bradford. “That’s a couple of fine youngsters you got there. I’ve got quite a few children myself, and a passel of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.”
    â€œYou and your wife must be proud of them,” Bradford said stiffly.
    â€œMy wife’s dead, too,” Jamie said, his voice hard and flat. “So I reckon we got that in common, Reverend. Because of that I won’t take any offense about what you had to say about my friend Moses . . . this time.”
    Bradford glared, but he didn’t say anything else. He just turned and stalked off.
    Jamie shook his head as he watched Bradford walk away. He hadn’t known many Jewish fellas in his life, but Moses Danzig seemed like a decent hombre and