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His eyebrows lifted in silent question.
“To befriend him,” she added.
“Nothing. I just made camp and cooked a meal. Guess Dawg was hungry because he soon sidled toward me. Eventually he decided it was okay to be friends. Of a sort.”
Sybil studied the dog. “He’s not as ugly as I first judged him, but he certainly isn’t a thing of beauty, either.”
They sat in peaceful contentment for a moment. She’d learned much about him.
Cowboy understood how to approach wounded and frightened people and animals alike. He never pushed, never expected anything in return for the help he offered.
She realized the same patient technique that caused Dawg to judge Brand a safe friend had worked on Sybil, too. When had she ever talked so much about herself? About Suzette? But perhaps her openness would make it easier for him to speak honestly.
“Brand, tell me more about your mother.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I heard pride and affection in your voice when you spoke of her.”
“I was proud of her. Still am. She lived by high standards despite our circumstances. She did sewing to support us. I went to bed many nights with her sitting by the table, the lamp close as she sewed.”
“And your pa?”
“Nothing to say about my pa.”
Before she could ask the question on her lips, Brand added, “Or my brother.”
She didn’t press. She squeezed his hand gently and quickly withdrew before he could think her inappropriate. “I’m sorry. Whatever happened, it has hurt you deeply.”
He neither acknowledged nor denied it.
She sought for something to bring back the peace she’d felt talking to him about Suzette, something to offer the same understanding he’d offered her.
“Nothing can separate us from God’s love.” She waited, hoping he would acknowledge her words. When he didn’t, she added, “Unless we let it.”
“I guess that’s so.”
“You make it sound like it doesn’t matter. But it does.”
“My ma would agree.” He hung his hands over his knees and stared at them.
Sybil couldn’t bring herself to say anything more for fear of adding to his dejection. Besides, it was time she returned to the house. She rose to her feet. Dawg stood, too, as if expecting to go with her. She patted him on the head, then brushed her hand across Brand’s shoulder. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be removed and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.” She hadn’t meant to preach to him, but the words had come of their own accord. She would pray they would comfort him, whatever the cause of his discouragement.
* * *
Brand left his camp early the next day, and made his way toward the ranch. Why had Eddie bought so many wild horses? Could be he meant to sell them at a profit. But even putting in long hours, Brand wouldn’t be able to leave for several more days.
A fact that should make him nervous, but failed to do so. And why shouldn’t he enjoy a few days of visiting with Sybil? He’d succeeded in revealing nothing that put either of them at risk. She’d never know his pa and brother were wanted men.
Brand might not be a praying man, but his heart murmured one prayer over and over. Please don’t let Pa and Cyrus find me here. Let me get done and leave before that can happen.
The tree before him made him think of Sybil’s story of two little girls playing on a swing. It would be a perfect tree for a swing.
He reached the corrals and roped the first horse of the day. Of necessity, he must keep his mind on his task or end up facedown in the dirt. Ruining not only his clothes, but also his reputation as the bronc rider who never got thrown off. But he still found space in his thoughts to replay every word Sybil had spoken the night before. As the day progressed a plan evolved.
Partway through the morning, Sybil stepped to the fence and watched him. He nodded once in her direction, then forced himself to concentrate. Although he tried to ignore her, he knew the moment she stepped away. She and the other ladies went to the garden with baskets that they soon filled with vegetables. Then they returned to their various houses.
