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“Pa!” Armstrong strode in beside him and tugged the gun from his hands. “You don’t want to do that. He’s your flesh and blood. He can help us. This is more serious than you think.”
He waved away the thought. “He ain’t no son of mine. Don’t you set foot in a single building. Don’t you get off that horse. Turn around and don’t youevercome back.”
* * *
Kent hadn’t missed how,even the moment he’d loosened his grip on her to deal with the blow of what his father had said, Alice pressed into him. She wanted to give him her strength, support him, be with him in his time of need.
Even his own father hadn’t done that. Ma hadn’t come out to argue with Pa’s insults. She’d been somewhere inside the house. He hadn’t seen her much since he’d returned, since he didn’t go in the house to face what wouldn’t have been much better than he just had.
“He’s not right in the head,” Alice whispered. “He didn’t mean it.” He could feel her mouth moving against his shoulder and the heat of her breath, even through his shirt and vest, did things to his insides he couldn’t name, even as a man of science.
“He did mean it. Every word.” He tucked his chin to keep their conversation between them.
“You’ve got nothing. Nowhere to go. Where will you stay?” She gripped his vest tightly, her voice quivering.
Bodey Johlman cleared his throat. “You have a place to stay.”
She quietly gasped. Kent sat up straight, uncomfortable that they’d been overheard.
“We’ve got a bunkhouse with at least four empty bunks now that the spring sheering is done. I’d like to keep men on all year, but I can’t until the flock is back up to the size it was before all this flooding. But that means there’s space if you’d like to take advantage of it.”
“Thank you. I’ll head into town later and let Dr. Spight know where he can reach me for anyone who needs my services.” He clenched his jaw against the dark feelings welling up inside him.
He hadn’t done a thing to help Alice or her family. He hadn’t been able to help his own family. The sickness was taking over and the only explanation that matched what his books and knowledge said couldn’t be found. There was a weed, common in southwestern states, that made animals sick. But it wasn’t common in the north. He’d looked for it in his own pasture and even the bedding they bought for the barn, though its use was rare.
Animals generally avoided locoweed when possible unless they were given no other choice. But there were choices available. There was fresh grass, growing longer by the day in the spring heat. There was hay purchased from the feed and seed. He’d checked with the owner and even though it was scarce, he vowed he bought from a reputable man.
So, if the animals were being poisoned by locoweed, where could they get it? “I think we should set aside the report right now.”
Alice stiffened behind him and he clutched her hands to calm her. “I need all your help instead. The only thing I can think of that would give symptoms that match those we’re seeing is locoweed, but my pa was right. Whatever the source, it should affect the horses, too. So, I need someone to ride around and look for it. I have a book . . .” But the book was in the bunkhouse back at his home, where he couldn’t go.
“I’ll go on back and ask Armstrong to pack up your things when your pa calms down. He can’t steal what’s yours. There might be a saying about possession being nine-tenths of the law, but he’d have to raise a fuss for that to matter.”
“He’s good at raising a fuss and wasn’t that saying coined for the Hatfields and the McCoys?” Kent swallowed, unsure if history would repeat itself.
“It was, but we don’t have time for a history lesson. Get yourself settled at the Johlmans. I’m the only one of this bunch who can safely ride back. I’ll also talk to Louis while I’m there and see if I can reason with him alone. Might be he was just surprised.”
Kent couldn’t hold in a snort. Pa was never surprised. “I pray you have more success than we did.”
“I will.” Blake laughed. “Because I’ll at least get your belongings out of the deal.” He turned his horse around and trotted off.
“Thank you, Pa,” Alice said quietly from behind him. She sounded so defeated, he wanted to assure her everything would be all right. This was only a passing disturbance. He was a man and didn’t need his father.
Though he couldn’t deny his first thought had been to leave. If he went back to school, he could be a professor’s assistant. He could continuously learn and never face anyone. He could study, which had been a joy.
Looking at his life now, though, he could see the joy was empty. He’d avoided friendship, or relationships of any kind. Including the brief offerings he gave to his Father in heaven. The pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears, but why wouldn’t they? If he hid from God at every other moment except when he needed help, why would God listen for his pleas?
He stopped in front of the paddock and Kent slipped his foot from the stirrup, allowing Alice to dismount. She may have been safe on her own, but perhaps not. She’d been told to stay off the property and if she’d ridden up in the open as a budding daisy, Pa might have singled her out instead of her father.
He swung down from his horse and found himself in the midst of an embrace before his feet were solidly planted. Alice had never been one for tears. Even when he’d teased her mercilessly as a child, she’d never shown him weakness. She’d been the epitome of the one who could turn the other cheek. Her tears now stirred something inside him. Fiery. Protective.
He gently tried to calm her raging sobs with a tender touch, like his mother had given him as a small boy. He brushed his hands, fingertip light, over her. One hand offering comfort, the other the strength to hold her up.
When she leaned back to look in his eyes, the red puffiness around hers broke him.
“I’m sorry. I just . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“No need to say anything.” He wanted so much to kiss away her worry. To give her something to think about other than sick sheep and weeds and all manner of things other than him.
