Read Online Debra Holland - [Montana Sky 02] by Starry Montana Sky - Free Book Online Page B

cinnamon cookies.”
    Mrs. Toffels beamed. “They sure are her favorite.”
    Standing on tiptoe, Christine lifted a blue salt-glazed jar off one of the shelves. She pulled off the top and brought it to Samantha. “Here, Mrs. Rodriguez, try one.”
    “Thank you, my dear.”
    Christine offered the jar to Maria, who took one with a shy duck of her head.
    Mrs. Toffels handed a plate to Samantha. “I sure was hopeful when Wyatt told me a widow was taking over Ezra’s ranch.”
    “Hopeful?”
    “That you’d be young and pretty.” Her face crinkled into a smile. “And you are. I’m always partial to red hair. Stir up someinterest in the neighborhood, that’s what I say. Some people around here need to pull their heart out of a grave.”
    Samantha gulped, her relaxed feelings flying out the window.
Surely Mrs. Toffels wasn’t matchmaking between her and Wyatt.
    “I understand about burying your heart with your spouse.”
    The woman sent a shrewd look. “I’m sure you do. But life’s for the livin’. That’s what I say. And I should know. I’ve buried two husbands, myself.”
    Christine hovered near the housekeeper, oblivious to the undercurrent of their conversation. “May I please have some cookies too?”
    “Just one or you’ll spoil your supper.”
    Supper. With a start, Samantha realized Mrs. Toffels needed to know there were more unexpected guests. Feeling a little embarrassed for having descended on the unsuspecting woman with her rapidly growing band of dependents, she hesitantly spoke up. “Mrs. Toffels, I should warn you that I’ve brought two other adults and three growing boys with me.”
    The housekeeper looked surprised. “I thought Wyatt mentioned you had one child.”
    “I do. However, I’ve just acquired two more.”
    Christine piped up. “Reverend Norton brought Jack and Tim Cassidy. They’re going to live with her.”
    Mrs. Toffels picked up her spoon and resumed stirring. “You’re a saint to take them on, Mrs. Rodriguez. A saint, indeed. I’ve been worried about them. Those boys need a proper home.”
    A proper home. A proper home.
The words echoed in her thoughts. The image of her run-down ranch sprang to mind, seeding momentary doubts. Would she be able to provide a proper home for all of them?

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Jack Cassidy watched the womenfolk head up the brick pathway to the big white house. Instead of following them, the man Thompson turned toward the bunkhouse and motioned for the boys to come with him.
    Jack slowed his steps, lagging behind. He took quick sideways glances, studying the house and barn. Neat outfit. Fresh paint, no weeds, or horse droppings, or discarded rusty bits and pieces of metal scattered around. The orderliness made him uncomfortable—like he didn’t fit inside his skin. He looked down, trying to avoid the shame. But seeing his open-toed boots only made it worse.
    So he studied Thompson’s broad back, not trusting him. Jack wasn’t sure where the man was taking them, and he wanted to be able to run if necessary.
    Flowers.
Jack caught sight of the little green buds on the lilac bushes and flinched, trying to escape a memory. But the remembrance plumb sunk its teeth into him, worse than a dog’s bite. He couldn’t shake it off. His ma had always loved lilacs, but in a drunken rage, his pa had torn out the bushes she’d planted. She never tried again. But every spring, Jack had cut blooming branches from other people’s yards and brought them to her. Since her death, the fragrant flowers always twisted an ache inside him.
    Thompson walked them around the corner of the long white bunkhouse past the porch. On the side, set away from the bighouse and the barn, and facing the mountains, a high fence screened a horse trough with a pump set at one end. Jack tried to puzzle out why there was a horse trough here, when Thompson already had one in front of the barn.
    Thompson waved to the pump. “You”—he pointed at Tim—“how about filling it