Part 19 (2/2)

”We're fixin' the fence,” he reported when he found her in the garden.

”Where's Winn?” Cynthie came to her feet and brushed the dirt from herskirt.

”He's workin', too. Jerry's gonna see what he can rustle us up to eat.”

Cynthie smiled. She wondered what Jeremiah Betts thought of Greg's nicknamefor him.

Having dutifully reported to his mother, Greg was eager to get back to thebunkhouse. He darted away as soon as she said, ”Be sure to do what you'retold.”

Cynthie looked after him and smiled. He loved to he with the men and theywere all protective of him. She knew they would send him back to the houseif he got in the way or if there was any danger. How long could she let himrun loose, though? In a few more years, she would have to start teaching himto read and write. There was more he needed to learn than horses and cattle.

If Victor were still alive, he would be taking the child with him whenever hecould. He had always been good about that. Of course, Victor hadn'tapproved of Greg spending so much time with the hired hands and Cynthie hadsuspected that was why he was willing to take such a small child along ontrips to town. He had told Cynthie once that he couldn't trust her to watchthe child closely enough. She worried sometimes that he had been right.

She looked over the garden with a critical eye and decided she had earned herlunch. As she went inside, she was still thin king about her late husband.Had it ever crossed Victor's mind that he might die and leave her alone? She doubted it. He had always been too self-confident. She wondered if he would approve of her staying here and trying to run the ranch. He would at least be surprised.

The thought made her smile as she brought bread and leftover pot roast to thetable for a quick lunch. She wasn't going to drive herself crazy trying tolive her life to please someone who was gone. In a way, now she had a chanceto prove what she could do, a chance to prove to herself and others she couldsurvive on her own.

She had to admit she loved the freedom. Maybe she wasn't competent to runthe ranch herself, but she would be the one to decide who would help her runit. Maybe she did spend too much time riding and not enough time cleaning,but it was her time. If she let her little boy run a little too free, well,this was the West; people came here to run free.

Thinking about her son in the bunkhouse made her think of Winn. Winn was never far from her thoughts anyway. Greg had said he was helping with thefence. She wondered what he was doing. She had to fight the urge to go downto the corral and watch them.

She sat down to her lunch, enjoying the quiet. Greg had a knack forinterrupting her thoughts and it was nice to sit quietly and think of Winn.There had to be lots of things that he could do, some things that he enjoyed,and she had to help him find them.

She had heard him correct Greg's speech a time or two but never in a way thatmade the child feel bad. He was obviously well educated and so good withGreg that he would make a wonderful teacher. He couldn't teach someone to read if he couldn't see, though.

Cynthie cleared away the remains of her light lunch and washed the few dishes. She had never gotten over the Eastern habit of dinner at night. A snack was enough for her at noon, but she knew the men were used to more.With Louie gone, they were forced to, as Greg put it, rustle something up.Victor would have expected her to cook the noon meal for the hands but thatwould have meant spending the entire morning coo king. They hadn't asked andshe hadn't offered, but she felt a little guilty about leaving them to theirown devices.

Maybe she could fix something tonight and invite Jeremiah and Peter fordinner. Was she hoping to placate Victor's ghost? He certainly seemed to behaunting her today. She grinned to herself. She knew how to get aroundthat. As soon as Greg got tired of fence mending, she'd take him fis.h.i.+ng.

If they caught enough fish, she'd feed everybody.

Chapter Nine.

Q^yys^Q reter nailed the last board in place and simply said,

”Done.” Jeremiah had already begun to put the tools away.Winn removed the borrowed gloves and returned them to Peter. He stood bylistening to the quiet activity that marked the end of the job and feltGreg's little hand slip into his.

”That was hard work,” sighed the little boy.

”Let's get out of the sun,” Winn suggested. ”Want to help me get my gear up to the house?”

They walked into the relative cool of the barn and Greg helped Winn find the

knapsack and saddlebags. A rifle leaned against the wall nearby.' ”What you gonna do with the rifle?” asked Greg, trying to lift it.”You better leave it alone,” Winn warned.”Put this up in the bunkhouse where you keep your own,” he said to Jeremiah, who was in the barn when they arrived there.

”Yes, sir,” he said, taking the rifle away.

Greg was soon distracted by the saddlebags.

”What's in this thing?” asked the child, struggling with the bags.

Winn shouldered the knapsack and waited for Greg to take his hand and lead him out of the barn.

”Not much of anything, really, but just about everything I own.”

Greg laughed.

”That sounds funny.”

Winn laughed, too, seeing the child's point of view.

”Is there a gun in here?”

”As a matter of fact, there is,” Winn said.

”It was in my saddlebag when I was hurt.”

”But I thought cowboys always weared their guns.”

”Wore. And not all of us. Let's stop at the well before we go in the house.

I could use a drink of cold water.”

”Me, too,” the boy answered with an exaggerated sigh.

Cynthie met them at the well and lifted the saddlebags from Greg's shoulder.

”How about coming fis.h.i.+ng with me?” she asked, ruffling the child's sweaty

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