Real Cowboys. Roz Fox Denny
meeting with her.”
“What’s her con-dition?” Clover slid out of her saddle and squinted up at her dad, all the while edging toward the chuck wagon.
Danny had ridden into sight and it was obvious Clover would rather join him than make time for this conversation.
“I’m referring to her not being able to walk and having to use a wheelchair to get around.”
“Oh. I guess I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It sure does. We…the school board, well, I probably wouldn’t have donated our line shack as a place for her to live if I’d known she couldn’t walk.”
“Why? Danny said his mom loves the cabin.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Can I go? Justin assigned Danny and me this lunchtime, and we’re both hungry as bears and thirsty. We’ve been running washes and it’s hot.”
It was hot at the forge, too. Ben wiped sweat off his forehead with his shirtsleeve. “Go on. It’s not you I should be talking to about the liability that woman could turn out to be for our town.”
“You’re using big words. What’s a li…lib’l…that word you said?”
“Liability is a big problem, Clover.”
Having started to mount her horse, the girl dropped back to the ground and glared at Ben. “Take that back! Ms. Kate’s not a problem. She’s the smartest, most beautiful woman in the whole world.”
Removing his hat, Ben slapped it against his hip until dust flew. He knew some of the crew heard Clover’s raised voice. Zach quit what he was doing to listen. Lately Ben had butted heads with Clover in private, which suited him because he was a private man. Marge Goetz would say he shouldn’t let Clover talk back. But kids were entitled to an opinion. It just took him by surprise that she’d developed such strong sentiments for the woman in only a week.
Too far away to hear the heated exchange, Danny hailed Clover from the chuck wagon. She acknowledged his wave, but before she joined him, she lowered her stubborn chin and idly dug her boot toe in a pile of cinders someone had dumped out of the forge. Almost shyly, it seemed to Ben, she said, “My teacher smells better than anybody and she wears pretty blouses and long skirts. I wish I looked like her.”
Surprised at such a thought coming from his little tomboy, Ben could only stand slack jawed as she mounted her horse in a flying leap and galloped the short distance to where the teacher’s son waited.
Ben wished he could say he hadn’t noticed how good Clover’s teacher smelled. The other day as he’d entered the schoolhouse for his meeting, he’d picked up on the usual wood oil, chalk and disinfectant—until he’d walked up to Ms. Steele’s desk and had been rocked by the seductive scent of cedar and cinnamon. It had hit him like a one-two punch.
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