Dakota Cowboy. Linda Ford

Dakota Cowboy - Linda Ford


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of Roy brought her thoughts round to Wade. No doubt after her rude dismissal he’d ridden out for wherever it was he headed. Made no difference to her. He was like a hundred other cowboys she saw.

      Only—she regretfully admitted—no other cowboy had insisted on accompanying her to a recitation, nor admitted bold-faced how he missed his ma and her favorite poem.

      She would doubtless never see him again and that, she told herself, was a good thing.

      The next day was Sunday and Lucy headed out to church. Hettie and Harry had never asked her to work on Sunday. They had another gal come in to handle the Sunday crowd.

      As she sat enjoying the organ music before the service began, someone slipped into the pew beside her. Wade!

      She couldn’t tell him to move along—not in church. Not that she didn’t want to. But she feared she would incur the wrath of God if she acted on her unkind thoughts, so she gave him a smile that went no further than the corners of her mouth. Indeed, her lips said, “Good morning.” But her eyes said something entirely different.

      “Nice to see you at church,” he whispered.

      “You thought me a heathen, did you?”

      He quirked an eyebrow. “Now why would you think such a thing?”

      Why, indeed? But her conscience smote her. She’d been rude and dismissive. And him being a stranger in town. Hadn’t the Lord commanded them to be careful to entertain strangers? A grin filled her mouth as she thought of the rest of the verse—entertaining angels unawares. She had her doubts about Wade being any sort of an angel.

      “Care to share the cause of your amusement?” he whispered as the pews filled up around them.

      She couldn’t restrain herself and told him about the verse. She then added, “It doesn’t say what those who aren’t angels turn out to be.”

      He managed to look sad even though his eyes shone with amusement. “I would not expect anyone to consider me an angel. But I guess that means you’re obligated to entertain me this afternoon.”

      Obligated?

      Her mind said no—she wanted nothing to do with a cowboy who knew her father and expected she would be glad to pay him a visit.

      Her heart said otherwise. Obligation, cowboy, father—none of it mattered. The idea of an afternoon in this man’s company sounded fine.

      Her mouth said, “I guess I’m obligated.”

      He grinned. “I guess I am, too. No cowboy in his right mind would turn down such a generous invitation.”

      Knowing he realized as much as she that it had not been one bit generous, they both laughed. Seems he didn’t mind the obligation any more than she, which was somehow all wrong. This man had made his intention perfectly clear—he only cared about spending time with her in order to persuade her to visit her father.

      Just as she’d made it clear as a spring morning she wouldn’t be persuaded. So, what harm was there in spending a sunny afternoon with him? It wasn’t as if she was about to let this man, or any man, share anything but fragments of time. She had no need nor desire to give a man the right to twist her life into disarray as her father had done to her mother.

      And herself.

      She managed to postpone how she would deal with the afternoon until the service was over and she turned to see Wade grinning at her, his eyes dancing with amusement. She got the feeling he knew she’d boxed herself into a tight corner and he was enjoying her discomfort far too much for her liking.

      She lifted her head. This was nothing she couldn’t handle. “Let’s get some lunch from the dining room.” Hettie would willingly give them a portable lunch. Lucy thought she’d take him to the park where the young people tended to congregate on Sunday afternoons. Safety in numbers.

      When they arrived at the dining room and she told Hettie what she wanted, the woman practically crowed. “Off to courting corner, are you?”

      Lucy gave her a look of devout distaste, grateful Wade had waited outside, out of hearing distance. “I’m not interested in courting, only in having lots of people around so I don’t have to personally amuse him.”

      Hettie chortled. “I suppose that’s why all the other young people go there, too?”

      “I wouldn’t know.”

      “Now, don’t get all prickly with me, Lucy gal. I recall a time or two you’ve been there with some anxious young man.”

      “I don’t need a man.”

      “So you say. You’ll change your mind soon enough when the right one comes along.” She handed Lucy a basket full of food. “Now, off you go. Have fun. Who knows? This might be the right one.”

      Lucy thanked Hettie and waited until she was almost out the door to add, “Not in a million years.” She’d never trust her happiness and future to any man.

      Thanks to Hettie’s comments, she felt conspicuous as she led Wade to the park where she was certain everyone she met had the same sly look in their eyes, and similar thoughts in their heads.

      At least Wade had no idea how people viewed a harmless little jaunt to the park.

      She saw a spot under a sprawling group of trees where several others she knew gathered. Mr. and Mrs. Nolan sat by themselves on a nearby bench. With three daughters of courting age, they usually spent the afternoon at the park, providing proper supervision.

      “Over there.” Lucy pointed toward the group.

      “They your friends?” Wade looked toward a more secluded spot where an umbrella of branches provided an alarming amount of privacy. “It’s quieter over there.”

      “They’ll be glad to let us join them.” She didn’t give him a chance to say yea or nay. She had no intention of being shepherded to a place where they would be alone, knowing he would likely consider it an opportunity to tell her how she ought to visit her father. She led him to her choice of location and introduced him to the group—most of whom had been at church earlier. After a round of greetings, she found a roomy spot and allowed Wade to spread the blanket Hettie had put in the basket.

      The afternoon heat made everyone mellow. Lucy was glad no one prodded her with questions about Wade. She didn’t want to talk about him. She didn’t want to explain who he was, what he was doing here.

      Hettie had packed fried chicken and fresh buns for Lucy, which they’d both enjoyed. Lucy took out a plate of cookies and offered it to Wade.

      He took one. “I see there are certain advantages to working in a dining room.” He slanted an amused look toward the next couple who’d had only syrup sandwiches.

      “I don’t think they noticed.” It was the youngest Nolan girl and a farm boy.

      “If they did, they didn’t seem to care.” Wade leaned close. “I think they’re more interested in their sparking.”

      His breath warmed her cheeks, filling her with a curious sense of longing.

      She pushed away the idea. Only thing she longed for was her self-sufficiency. Life was meant to be lived, enjoyed, embraced, not spent clasping hopeless dreams based on empty promises from a man.

      She would not be like her mother.

      Wade still leaned close, his gaze warm as sun flashing on a quiet lake, his expression curiously watchful, as if wanting something from her.

      She shifted away, turned to gather the remnants of their lunch into the basket. She knew what he wanted—for her to visit her father. But she wouldn’t do it. She’d already given her father too many chances, wasted too many hopes and dreams on him.

      Lawrence, a young man who seemed to escort a different gal to the park every week, picked up his guitar and began to pluck out a tune. He had a liking for popular ballads, which made


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