items like clothing and diapers for the baby. Sarah had been grateful, but there was so much more she was going to need before young Blake was grown. She had to find a way to give her son a better life than this one.
The baby had fallen asleep in his drawer, which she’d left on the bed. Sarah used the free time to tidy the house and fix a simple breakfast of coffee and toasted bread. She was about to go out back to fill the wash boiler and make the fire underneath when she heard the sound of horses, followed by a knock at the front door.
She unlocked the door and opened it. Standing on the front porch was Rusty.
“What a surprise!” She hugged the old man, even though she hadn’t done it the last time he was here. “Come in, Rusty. Let me fix you some breakfast.”
“No need.” He looked older, but his smile was the same. “I ate this morning when I cooked for the crew. We’re camped with the herd, a few miles out of town. I had to come in for supplies.” His gaze narrowed below his grizzled eyebrows. “I didn’t expect to find you here, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check. I’m glad to see you, girl.”
“And I’m glad to see you. Here, have a seat.” She ushered him to the rocking chair, while she sat on the footstool, facing him. She could tell that he was studying her, noticing how she’d changed—her bosom straining the buttons of her dress, her face showing a few lines of worry and weariness.
“You say you’re with a cattle drive. Are you still working for the Calders?” she asked.
“Yup. But I told Benteen this would be my last time. I’m gettin’ old. Ready to park the chuckwagon and take it easy. And before you have to ask, no, Joe’s not with us. He’s workin’ for another outfit in Montana. Doin’ right well for himself.” Rusty frowned. “But last time I talked to him, he told me you were goin’ to doctor school in Chicago. What are you doing back here? Did you finish already?”
Sarah had known the question was coming. The only answer she could give was the truth. “I didn’t even start,” she said, remembering the day she’d crumpled the acceptance letter, stuffed it into the stove, and watched it burst into flame. “I . . . couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t? But why, Sarah? If you’d needed money—”
“No. I’d been working and saving. It wasn’t that.”
“Then what? What happened?”
“Rather than tell you, let me show you.” Rising, she walked into the bedroom and returned a moment later, carrying the drawer with her sleeping son in it. She set the drawer on the footstool where Rusty could see inside. “This happened,” she said.
As Rusty gazed down, in a mixture of wonder and shock, the baby opened his eyes, smiled, and gurgled at him. “Oh, Lordy,” the old man muttered. “If I’d known what that rascal was up to, I’d have horsewhipped him. How the hell could he do this to you, and then leave you here alone?”
Sarah gave him a fleeting smile. “You can’t put all the blame on Joe. What happened was as much my fault as his. And when he left, I was still planning to go to medical school.”
“So he doesn’t know about the baby?”
“How could he know? I had no way to reach him.”
“I could take him a message. Is that what you want?”
The baby had begun to fuss. Sarah lifted him into her arms. “I don’t know. Until you walked in, I thought I’d heard the last of Joe. Now . . .” Torn, she shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. He deserves to know he has a son, but it would complicate things for both of us. I need to think about it.”
Rusty rose from the rocker. His pale eyes, bloodshot from years of trail dust, seemed to hold a secret sadness.
“Before you make up your mind, there’s one thing you need to know—something I haven’t told you.”
“What’s that?” Worry seized her. “Is Joe all right?”
“Yes. But here’s the thing, and I’m sorry as hell to be the one to tell you.”
“Just say it.”
Rusty cleared his throat. “Joe is married, Sarah.”
Sarah clutched her baby as the words sank in, sharp and bitter, changing her forever. Something hardened inside her.
“Don’t tell him about my baby,” she said. “Don’t you tell anybody—ever.”