Lucy sat on the deck just below the sill, each holding a puppy. She grabbed a handful of crimson hair and gave it a tug.
“You come inside this minute, young man. I can think of better things to fill your mind than making little wrongs into big ones.”
“Aw, Emma…” Red grunted, but he set his pup in Lucy’s lap and got up, stretching his young lanky body as he rose. “Matt never should have let him get away with it.”
“Matt’s had a lot more years of learning what to let folks get away with than you have.” Red didn’t walk around to the kitchen door—he curled his gangly body up and squeezed through the window. “Since you’ve got so much idle time, we’ll just put that mind of yours to work on something useful. Follow me around while I get supper ready. Recite your times tables.”
“I finished with school last year!”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t have plenty to learn.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He followed her about like a paddling duckling while she did her chores. “Four times four is twenty-five. Six times six is thirty…four, or six.”
Emma sent up a silent prayer that the boy would learn self-control better than sums.
* * *
She’d had a week and a half to get Matt’s shirt back on him, but her mind had turned tail on her. Tonight and every night since, when she closed her eyes there he was, gleaming, bare chested and calling to her.
It didn’t help that she had now moved into her new house and was spending the first night in her new bed. This piece of furniture seemed to be haunted by the ghost of one not even departed. Indeed, the living man slept in sight of her bedroom window in the dugout with Billy and Red.
The curtains weren’t up yet, so she had a clear view of her old dirt home. The place hadn’t been as bad as one might have imagined, as long as one wasn’t fainthearted about bugs.
Nights in the soddie had been cozy with Lucy curled up against her heart, knowing that Matt was just on the other side of the door.
The new house was cleaner and larger, with a kitchen, parlor and two bedrooms. There was another room between the kitchen and her bedroom. She’d asked Matt what it was for, but he told her it was a surprise. She would find out when the time was right.
The time would have to be right soon. The house was finished. After the big celebration they had planned, he would have no reason to stay and every reason to leave. Each time they went to town someone had some speculation as to where Hawker might be. Some folks figured he was still as far away as Tombstone; others suspected he was here already, hiding out and biding his time.
If Matt was nervous about that possibility he didn’t show it. His smile rarely faltered and his song as he went about his daily chores was seldom blue.
Lying on her side, Emma gazed at the vast prairie beyond her window. She saw well beyond Pearl and Thunder’s corral and red barn all the way to her new trees. Matt had been right about the first ones—they hadn’t survived.
But these would. With the moonlight bright upon the land she might be able to see if Pendragon’s men cut her fences in the night. They’d done it once or twice already, but Billy and Matt had tied them up again before the cattle had had a chance to do any damage.
A figure stepped out of the dugout. Moonshine struck him with bright planes and deep shadows.
Matt went into the outhouse and came out a moment later. Instead of heading back toward the dugout, he sauntered toward the corral. He glanced back at the house once or twice before he climbed up on the fence rail to sit.
Because of the moon, the land was as light as if it had been lit by a lamp, but speckled with cold shadows that might be hiding secrets.
Did he imagine Hawker concealed in them, as she did?
Emma pushed herself up on her elbow. She ought to go to him, to hold him so that he knew…
Knew what? That she would stand by him through it? That he didn’t need to face his fears alone? She could imagine herself out there now, telling him to come to bed. What wife wouldn’t comfort her man with her body?