lumber or driving home a nail, her pulse quickened. She’d always known she’d love her new home.
Five men labored in the early-morning heat. Cousin Billy and Jesse worked on the house, Red on the barn. Except that just now Red was watching Lucy by the creek. Matt stood by the well in the shade of the roof he had built over it. He spoke with a man he had hired, Rusty Cohen, an experienced home builder in Dodge.
Matt and Rusty looked up from their conversation when they spotted her coming toward the well. Rusty tipped his hat. A grin that made her insides weak slid across Matt’s face.
Sometime before summer’s end she would have to learn not to enjoy it so much.
“I left some lunch in the dugout.” Emma took the canteen from the basket. When she reached for the ladle in the bucket Matt took it from her and filled the canteen.
“Are you wearing those new boots?” he asked.
Since Rusty had glanced down at her feet, she raised the hem of her gown only enough for the toe of one leather boot to peek out. When Matt had presented them to her she had yanked her skirt up past her knee, aglow with the impropriety of it.
“I wouldn’t want to meet the snake that could sink its fangs through this leather,” she said.
“All the same,” Matt said and tucked the filled canteen into the basket. “I had Red look the area over when he dropped off your trees. It seemed clear at the time, but you’d better keep an eye out.”
“There’s no need to worry about Lucy and me. We’re on Parker land.”
Rusty arched his heavy brows and tipped his head. Matt took the revolver from his holster and tucked it in with the canteen.
“Don’t shoot at anything unless you have to. Just point the gun out toward the horizon and I’ll come running.”
Emma didn’t like the feel of a loaded weapon in her picnic basket. Wouldn’t a scream get attention as easily as gunfire?
She rose on her toes to kiss Matt’s cheek. She’d only just realized her slip of the tongue in calling her homestead Parker land instead of Suede land. This casual display of wifely affection toward her husband should smooth that over.
“Good day, Mr. Cohen,” Emma said, then headed toward the corral where Pearl nuzzled noses with Thunder.
“Come on, Pearl, we’re going for a walk.”
The horse whinnied and trotted toward the corral gate. Emma didn’t bother with tack equipment, since she wouldn’t be riding the horse. Pearl followed behind Emma swishing her tail while they walked toward the creek to fetch Lucy.
After a moment of disagreement over wearing the bonnet, Lucy allowed Emma to tie up the ribbons under her chin in exchange for riding to the site of the tree-planting on Pearl’s bare back.
Surely too soon for Lucy, Emma lifted her from the horse.
“Here we are. Which tree do you want to plant first?” Lucy raced toward the row of thirty trees that Red had set in a line. “This one!”
“That’s a fine choice. It’s an apple.” Emma picked up the sapling. “Let’s plant it right here in front so we can see it from the house.”
Emma set the picnic basket with the loaded gun well away from the area where they would be working. From what she had learned of youngsters, they seemed to be attracted to the very thing that would cause them grief.
She found a shovel in the pile of tools that Red had left behind with the trees.
“Put it here, Mama.” Lucy jumped up and down on the spot of prairie she had picked for her tree. “I want it right here where Mr. Hoppety can come and get an apple.”
There might not be enough apples for all the Mr. Hoppetys in the creek, but the place looked as good as any to begin.
Emma expected the sod to be hard digging. She’d heard the tales of sodbusters truly being busted over it. To her amazement, the shovel went in as if it was cutting into cake.
She’d have to bake something special for whichever one of Matt’s gang had thought to prepare the ground.
With the hole dug, she knelt beside it and set the tree in. Matt’s big gloves nearly slipped off her hands while she pressed the dirt around the roots, filling the hole.
“What do you say we give your tree a name?”
Lucy plopped down on her knees. She pressed her hands on top of Emma’s firming the dirt. “I want