The Cowboy's Unexpected Family. Linda Ford
too happy to see him gone so maybe he’d accomplished one of his goals.
A dark shape on the trail ahead caught his eye and he blinked. He pulled the horse to a halt and stared. Rubbed his eyes and stared some more.
He’d seen mirages of trees and water but he’d never seen a mirage of kids. He squinted hard. Three kids. Four, if that squirming armload was another.
He called to them as he edged the wagon forward.
The huddle of young ’uns left the trail and ran toward the trees a distance away.
“Now hold up there.”
The kids picked up speed.
Roper quickly secured the reins and jumped to the ground, breaking into an awkward trot. His bowed legs weren’t made for running but he didn’t let that slow him much.
One of the kids hollered, “Hurry.”
Another started to cry.
He couldn’t bear to hear a kid crying and he slowed. But just for a moment. Kids didn’t belong out in the middle of nowhere all alone. It wasn’t a bit safe. He forced his legs to pump harder and closed the distance.
The biggest one turned and faced him, a scowl on her pretty little face. “Leave us alone!”
He skidded to a halt and took their measure. The girl looked about twelve, maybe a little older. She held a trembling younger girl maybe two years old. Roper couldn’t see anything of the little one but the fine golden hair and impossibly tiny shoulders. Then there was a boy a year or two younger than the older girl. And between them, face full of fear and defiance, a young lad of maybe six or seven. The look on each face held a familiar expression...one he had seen time and again in the orphanage that had been his only home. It spelled fear. And trouble.
He held up his hands knowing the bunch wasn’t ready to see the folly of their attitude. “I mean you no harm but I can’t help wondering what four young ’uns are doing out here halfway between nowhere and nothin’.”
The eldest two exchanged glances, and a silent message passed between them. The boy answered. “None of yer business.”
Roper backed off a step but rocked on the balls of his feet, ready to grab them if they tried to escape. “Long way from here to someplace.” They’d been headed away from Edendale so he guessed that wasn’t their destination of choice. “You might get a little hungry and thirsty.”
The girl glared at him. “We don’t need no help.”
He sighed. Where had he heard that before? And he didn’t like it any better from the lips of a young gal with nothing more than the company of three younger kids and a gut full of determination than he had hearing it from Cassie. “How about you let me give you a ride at least?”
Again that silent communication. The young lad signaled to the older girl and they lowered their heads to hold a confab.
He waited, letting them think they were in control but he had no intention of turning around and leaving them there.
They straightened, and the oldest answered, “We’ll accept a ride. For a little ways.”
“Best we introduce ourselves,” Roper said, and gave his name. “I work on a ranch over in the hills there.”
Three pairs of eyes followed the direction he indicated and he could see their interest. He turned to the kids. “Now tell me who you are.”
The big girl nodded. “I’m Daisy. This is Neil.” She indicated the older boy, then nudged the younger one. “Billy, and Pansy.”
“Suppose you got a last name.”
“Locke.”
“Well, howdy.” He held out a hand but they shrank back. He waited, wanting them to know he meant them nothing but kindness. Finally Neil grabbed his hand and gave a good-size squeeze. The boy had grit for sure. Guess they all did to be out here alone.
He led them to the wagon. They insisted on sitting together in the back. He climbed to the seat but didn’t move.
“Mister?” Daisy sounded scared.
He shifted to face them. “It might help if I had some idea where you want to go.”
Again a silent discussion then Daisy nodded. “We’re looking for our pa. He set out to get himself some land close to the mountains. Maybe you heard of him. Thaddeus Locke.”
He’d heard of the man. One of the only settlers in the area. Last time he’d been mentioned in Roper’s hearing was last fall. “Where’s your mother?”
“She died. Before she did, she made us promise to find our pa.” Daisy’s voice quivered but she held her head high.
“Well, let’s find him, then. Mr. Macpherson will know where his farm is.” Macpherson knew everything about everyone within a hundred miles. ’Course that didn’t mean more than a couple hundred people, not counting Indians. Roper turned the wagon about.
“You don’t know where our papa lives?” Neil asked.
“Can’t say as I do.” The kids murmured behind him and he glanced over his shoulder. Little Pansy rested her head against Daisy’s shoulder, big blue eyes regarding him solemnly, unblinkingly. The kid had been aptly named with eyes as wide as the flower. “We’ll soon be at Macpherson’s store.” The collection of low buildings clung to the trail ahead, trees of various kinds clustered behind the buildings. His gaze sought the little area behind the store. As they drew closer he saw Cassie had almost managed to get the tent standing, but it swayed like a broken-down old mare. He chuckled. Wouldn’t take more than a cupful of rain to bring it down and soak everything inside, including her if it happened while she slept. The canvas flapped in the wind. Fact was she might not have to wait for rain to topple the tent. A breeze made by bird wings would do the trick.
“Whoa.” He jumped down and went to the back of the wagon.
Already Neil was on his feet with Pansy and he helped Daisy to the ground as Billy scampered down to join them. All four regarded him with wary eyes.
He pushed his hat farther back on his head and returned their study. “Your ma would be proud of you.” Where had that come from? The words must have been dropped to his tongue by the good Lord because the three older kids beamed, and Pansy gave him a shy smile that turned around in his heart and nestled there. “Now let’s find your pa.”
They trooped into the store. Macpherson leaned across the counter talking with another man. Roper recognized the North-West Mounted Police officer, Kipp Allen. “Howdy, Constable. Didn’t see your horse outside.”
The man nodded a greeting. Even though he lounged against the counter, he had a way of holding himself that let you know he saw clear through you. “He threw a shoe. He’s down at the smithy.” His eyes shifted to the young ’uns and he straightened, his gaze watchful.
Roper paid him no mind. “Macpherson, these here are the Locke kids looking for their pa, Thaddeus Locke. I’ll give them transport if you tell me where I can find him.”
Macpherson blinked. Just once but enough for Roper to wonder what secret the man had. “Best you be asking the constable.”
Roper shifted to meet Allen’s study. “I’m asking.”
The Mountie’s eyes softened and he faced the children. “I’m sorry to inform you that your pa passed away last winter. I buried him on his property.”
Neil and Daisy drew in a gasp.
Orphans. Just like him. Roger remembered well the loneliness, the discouragement of it. How many times had he held his breath and watched a man and woman come to the orphanage for a child? Waiting. Wanting. Hoping. Never chosen. The matron tried to comfort him. “People want to know your background.” But he had no background. No name. Only what someone had given him after he was discovered as a squalling infant on the doorstep.