The Cowboy by Joan Johnston

Author:Joan Johnston [Johnston, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Creed Family (Fictitious Characters), Contemporary, General, Romance, Blackthorne Family (Fictitious Characters), Texas, Cowboys, Large Type Books, Fiction, Domestic Fiction, Ranch Life
ISBN: 9780440223801
Google: wpdKPgAACAAJ
Publisher: Wheeler Publishing
Published: 1999-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Trace was aware of the knot in his stomach but wasn’t sure precisely what had put it there. He went to work tightening the bolts that held the stall door to the door frame, doing his best to ignore Callie, who made a point of holding the heavy stall door perpendicular to the ground while he worked.

“What can I do?” Hannah asked, peering up at him with serious, gray-green eyes.

“See if you can tighten those screws, Hannah,” Trace said, pointing to the lowest screws on the door. He made a space for Hannah between his widespread legs as the little girl squatted on her haunches trying to fit the screwdriver into a screw at the bottom of the stall door.

He saw the anxiety on Callie’s face and said, “She’ll be safe there. Don’t worry.”

Some of the worry left her face, but her overall look of exhaustion remained. Her golden hair was lank, as though it needed washing, and her blue eyes looked like cold water at the bottom of a deep well. He sought words to describe her and didn’t like the ones that came to mind. Haggard. Gaunt. Wasted.

He might have been too generous comparing Callie to a horse that had been ridden hard and put away wet. That horse at least had a chance of recuperating. Callie looked more like a horse down with colic—that might or might not survive the night.

You ’re not making her life any easier.

Trace wished he’d never offered to loan Callie the tax money she needed. And it had been pure folly to put conditions on the loan, making Callie sell her services like some two-bit whore. Well, not a two-bit whore. He was paying a great deal more than two bits for her services.

Trace chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

There was no way he could explain, so he asked, “How much help do you have around here?”

“Henry does most of the heavy work, now that Daddy—” Her voice cracked.

When she didn’t speak again, he said, “Who else works for you besides Henry?”

“We have a few cowboys we call on when there’s extra work to be done.”

“So why didn’t you call one of them to do this?” Trace asked, as he finished tightening the bolts.

She stared at him, her lips pressed flat.

No money, he surmised. “Where’s Luke?” he asked, thinking her teenage brother ought to be some help.

“He spent the night with a friend.”

Trace frowned. “With all the work that needs to be done around here?”

“He’s entitled to some fun,” Callie said defensively. “He’s just a boy.”

“Seems to me you had plenty of responsibility growing up. Maybe too much.”

“My family needed me. I was happy to do my part.”

“Like I said. Ridden hard and—”

“There isn’t anybody else,” she said sharply. “Not right now. I’m doing the best I can, and if you—”

“Whoa, there, sweetheart.”

She glanced up sharply at his use of the endearment. “I’m not your sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” Hannah echoed.

Trace looked down at the tiny mite peering back up at him. He reached down, picked up Hannah, and settled her on his arm.

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