the area above the kitchen and was surprised there was nothing in it but the battered old trunk he’d mentioned. She couldn’t imagine a house with so much space that there would be an empty room. It also amazed her that he seemed to think it should be her room to do whatever she liked with. She moved around the attic, touching each wall, each window—silently saying hello to her new world.
“Aggie?” Hank called from below. “Come down and meet Blue.”
She hurried to the kitchen and nearly collided with a gray-haired man almost as tall as Hank and twice as wide.
The man shuffled out of her way. “Pardon me,” he mumbled, then laughed and added, “I didn’t know you’d be flying down from above. Truth is I’d forgotten that room was up there.”
Even with his slicker covering most of his body, she could tell his right shoulder was twisted, but there was nothing weak or soft about him. His frown seemed tattooed across his face and mistrust danced in his eyes. The big man looked as afraid of her as she was of him.
She fought to keep from running to Hank.
As if he sensed her fear, her husband moved to her side and looped his arm around her shoulder. “Aggie, I’d like you to meet my friend, Blue Thompson.”
She knew Hank wouldn’t use the word friend lightly, but Thompson looked like a man who hadn’t trusted anyone since birth.
The big man stiffly offered his left hand while Hank continued. “Blue was shot up pretty bad at Williamsburg. When they found him in the cold, he was so near dead he looked blue.” Hank offered him coffee.
“I’ve been called Blue ever since,” the big man said. “I kinda like the name too, since I lived.”
Aggie’s fingers disappeared in his as they shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Thompson.” She didn’t miss the way he glanced down at Hank’s gun around her waist and nodded once, as if he understood that Hank wouldn’t have given his Colt to any woman unless she mattered to him.
“Just Blue,” he corrected. This time when he returned her gaze she saw acceptance and maybe a little respect.
“Just Blue.” She smiled. “And I’m just Aggie.”
The old soldier relaxed. “Hank said your daddy taught you about guns.”
“That’s right,” Aggie said.
“I got a French LeMat I carried in the war. Haven’t been able to fire it since that day I was shot, but I keep it anyway. Do you think you could have a look at it for me?”
“I’d be glad to,” she answered, realizing Blue was accepting her a few inches at a time. “I’ve worked on one of them before. Bring it by when you have time.”
Blue frowned. “I’d go get it now. Our place isn’t that far away, but there’s a fence down.” He looked at Hank. “We gotta get to it, boss, or there will be hell to pay by morning.”
Hank agreed. “Help me get the tack in the barn, then saddle the paint.”
Blue tipped his hat to Aggie and followed orders.
“You’ll be all right here?” Hank sounded like he hated leaving her.
For a moment she thought of arguing. This was their first day together. All her life her father never minded postponing work. He’d even stop working to enjoy his pipe, or a conversation. Aggie knew ranching wouldn’t be like gunsmithing. Problems couldn’t wait. “Go,” she said. “I’d hate to pay hell in the morning.”
Hank smiled. “I might need to talk to Blue about his mouth.” Hesitantly, he leaned and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you run into trouble, just fire three shots. If I’m not close enough to hear, Lizzy, Blue’s wife, will come running.”
Aggie moved to the window and watched the two men disappear into a curtain of rain. It occurred to her that she should feel lonely and abandoned, but even with the storm raging, she felt protected in Hank’s house. She needed the time here to settle in.
The walls glowed honey-colored with each lightning flash as she ran from room to room loving the open feel to it. Space was a luxury she’d never known.
A hundred yards from the house, Hank realized he’d almost run out of the kitchen. He’d known that if he looked at her a moment longer he wouldn’t be able to leave. As he lowered his hat and rode into the rain, he wondered at what point his mind had turned to oatmeal. How could a