Part 13 (1/2)
Cynthie took his arm and led him onto the ferry and to the wagon. He sat down at the back and Greg straddled his lap, the little arms securely wrappedaround his neck. Cynthie made sure they were comfortable and moved away.
Winn took a deep breath as the ferry lurched away from the bank. This was safer than standing, he told himself. He didn't have to worry about falling.No, all he had to worry about was the wagon rolling off the ferry and intothe river! He tried to brush the thought away.
Sitting down, he didn't experience the dizzy feeling he had felt before. The rocking was more gentle this way.
He didn't care that it was more comfortable or even that it was safer.
The question was not the strength of the wagon as opposed to the strength ofhis knees. The difference between this trip and the last was Cynthie. He had been worried enough on the first crossing to overlook the fact that heactually enjoyed her touch on his arm.
Cynthie, with the flower-scented hair and narrow shoulders, had made him feelsafe. Cynthie, with the cool manners and warm voice, had even called him byhis given name.
Louie was inspecting the corral fence when he heard thewagon coming. It was no thing urgent, but the fence could use someattention. He hated to see anything fall into disrepair, and Mrs. Franklindeserved to have the place loo king nice.
He left the fence to meet the wagon.
”Betts and Emery got back from Abilene,” he said, offering Cynthie a hand.
”Good,” she said and wondered why she didn't feel like it was good. She had to keep her mind on business.
”Send Betts up to see me in a few minutes.” She started toward the house.
Winn, walking a few steps behind her, gave words to her thoughts.
”My friends should be returning, as well.”
She stopped and turned to let him catch up with her. He was walking slowly,aware of the small strides of the child beside him. Greg wore a somberexpression as if he realized that something serious had happened even if hedidn't know what it was. She looked at the little hand held securely in thebig one and wondered what Greg would feel if Winn left.
No, when he left. They had never meant for it to be any other way.
”What will you do?” she asked when Greg stopped him near her.
”I don't know. I had a job on the Double M, a year-round job, not justroundup help. I might be able to go back there and stay until my sightreturns. I just don't know.” He paused for a moment, s.h.i.+fting his weight tothe other foot.
”I should have written them sooner, I suppose, but I thought I'd see by now.”
The little boy looked from his friend to his mother. ”He'll stay here with
us, won't he, Mama?”
Cynthie wasn't sure how to answer him. Finally she said, ”Winn will have to decide what is best.”
”But he's our cousin,” the child insisted.
”This is his home.”
Winn went down on one knee and let Greg climb onto the other.
”Sometimes cousins aren't exactly close relatives, and this isn't really my
home.
Your mama took me in to look after me. Don't you remember how sick I waswhen I first came? ”Greg looked seriously into the big man's face. ”Will you see sooner if you go away?”
It was a question only a child would ask, but it made Winn realize something.
He would be no more use at the Double M than he was here.
At least here he knew his way around and had Greg to help him. He would only
be in the way back in Texas, and possibly not even welcome.
But he didn't belong here, either.
The child waited patiently for an answer.
”No, Greg, I won't,” he said softly.
”But I may have to go anyway.” He wondered why he had added the qualifier,
to make it easier on the boy, perhaps?
Cynthie watched the exchange with a growing sense of alarm. Talk him out ofit! her mind screamed. Find an acceptable reason for him to stay!She knelt beside the two of them and watched Greg's face pucker up to cry.”Greg,” she whispered softly.The boy jumped from Winn's knee and made a mad dash for the barn. Winn lost his balance for a second and Cynthie's hand was there to catch him.
They both came slowly to their feet. She kept her hand on his arm a momentlonger than was necessary.
”I'm sorry, ma'am. I never meant to hurt the boy. I shouldn't have spent somuch time with him, I guess.”
”Don't be silly, Mr. Sutton. You can't avoid friends.h.i.+p because you know itmay have to end someday.” She wondered if that applied to love, as well.They were talking about Greg, she reminded herself.
”You've been very good for him.”
Winn nodded. So he was Mr. Sutton again. Well, apparently she wouldn't besorry to see him go, and he shouldn't be sorry to leave her, either.
Except the thought of never again hearing her voice or smelling herlilac-scented hair seemed somehow unthinkable. As unthinkable as never seeing again.