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“If he isn’t, you’re still welcome to stay here while deciding if you want to go home.”
“Thanks.” The offer was a kind one. “Now, show me the rest of the place and then put me to work.”
Spring showed her the henhouse, the hogs she kept for butchering and sale, the barns, and her large vegetable garden.
“We have a short growing season, but I try and grow as much as I can. I’m pretty self-sufficient.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Be twelve years in July. I’d just turned nineteen when my grandfather demanded I leave his household. I was more than happy to oblige.”
Regan regarded Spring’s frank eyes and wanted to know more, but didn’t know the woman well enough to ask.
As if having read Regan’s mind, Spring said, “I’ll share that tale another time. Now your turn. Tell me why you shot my brother.”
“Livy got a pony yesterday.”
Colt glanced up from his breakfast and met his daughter’s brown eyes. “Did she?” Livy was a classmate and the closest person Anna had to a friend.
Her gaze dropped. “Yes.”
Colt wasn’t sure what to ask next. He felt so inept around his child most of the time. He wondered if this was her way of saying she wanted a pony. He and Spring had had their first mounts around Anna’s age. “Do you think you might like one, too?”
She shook her head. “Aunt Minnie said I’d just fall off and break my neck.”
“Oh.” His late wife, Adele, having been raised in the city didn’t ride, but he wanted his daughter to learn. He tried a different tact. “I think I could teach you so you wouldn’t fall off.”
She shook her head again. “Aunt Minnie wouldn’t like it.”
“I see.” He needed to get her out from under Minnie’s suffocating thumb. Because of her, his Anna lacked the joy and curiosity he and his sister had as children. They’d had a strict upbringing, too, but learned to hunt and fish and ride. Anna did none of those things. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
“I won’t,” she replied with soft finality. “I’ve finished eating. May I be excused?”
“Yes. Get your things for school and Ben will drive us in the wagon.”
“Is your shoulder still hurt?”
“It is, but it should be better in a few days.” He’d explained the injury as an accident, which on the surface was the truth. He didn’t tell her he’d been shot.
“Do you have to be a doctor today?” she asked.
“I’m going to my office, but I should be here to have supper with you.” The question was her way of asking if he’d be leaving town. His duties were such that sometimes he didn’t return home until after she was asleep.
“Okay. I’ll get my books.” She scooted off her chair and left the table.
He watched her go and wondered if a new wife could transform the now wooden Anna into the vibrant laughing child she deserved to be.
After dropping Anna off at the schoolhouse, Colt gingerly mounted his stallion that he’d trailered to the back of the wagon. Ben would be going home, but Colt planned to ride over to see his sister and her guest.
Ben was still convinced that the Carmichael woman should be sent home. “You sure this is a good idea?”
“If she and I don’t suit, we’ll part ways and I’ll place more advertisements in the newspapers.” Even though he wasn’t optimistic about receiving favorable responses. “When I leave Spring’s, I’ll head to my office in town.”
Ben gave him a nod and set out. Colt turned his stallion and rode west.
He found his sister shoveling feed into the troughs for her hogs. She paused as he dismounted. “Morning. How’s the shoulder?”
He fought to keep the discomfort from showing on his face. He guessed she’d learned about the shooting from either Whit or Regan, or both. “I’ll live.” He was glad Miss Winchester hadn’t aimed lower or he might be as dead as Jeb Bailey and laid out at Lyman Beck’s undertaker’s place.
