Ben lowered his gaze and stirred his beans. “That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.” His voice cut sharper than he intended. “Should we say grace?”
A whimper and a flurry of scratching and scraping, like tiny twigs brushing against wood, sounded against the outside door down the hall.
“Jack.” Charlie jumped from his seat.
One look from Cora sat him back down again. She bowed her head, her voice not quite steady. “Let’s say the Lord’s Prayer.”
Stupid of him to give Cora such details about the camp. She didn’t need to know her brother had suffered so.
He mouthed the words of the prayer along with Cora and Charlie. “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…”
Did Cora believe in such forgiveness, or were they just words to her? Goodness knew he had committed more than his share of trespasses. His need for laudanum was a cardinal sin in Cora’s judgment. But that would be nothing compared to what would happen if she discovered he’d failed Jeb.
Prayer finished, Charlie hopped up and opened the door.
Jack scampered in, ran to Charlie’s chair, and then bounded back to paw Charlie’s legs. The boy laughed and scooped the puppy up.
“Not at the table. He stays on the floor.”
“Ahhh,” Charlie mumbled, set the puppy down, and hurried to plop into his seat. “You could tell us about one of your battles, Ben. Did you ride a horse and have a saber?” He palmed a small piece of ham, eyeing his sister to see if she’d noticed.
“Charlie, we’re done bothering Ben with our questions.” She tapped her fork on her tin plate. Wisps of chestnut hair fluttered about the sides of her face. A crinkle extended from the outside corner of each eye. Had the sun or worry etched the first lines on her smooth, youthful face?
Ben stabbed a chunk of ham. “I was in the cavalry and had a fine-looking horse and saber, but your sister’s right. Enough war talk tonight.” He shot Cora a glance and cleared his throat. “I have some questions about the ranch, but if you prefer, they can wait until after dinner.”
She gnawed her lip. “What about the ranch?”
He finished chewing his ham. “I’m wondering what happened to your family’s cattle. Jeb used to talk about the herd, and the round-ups, and accompanying his father to sell cattle in Louisiana.”
“The war is what happened. No men around to do the ranching. Not enough help to take care of the cattle. Ranchers all along the frontier lost their herds.”
He pressed his palms together and touched his fingers to his lips. Her father had been around. Best not to mention it.
“The raids got so bad, family after family moved into Weatherford or farther east to Dallas. The folks north of here in Elm Creek built themselves a fort. Texas formed the Frontier Regiment, but the men were spread so thin, it wasn’t anything a body could count on.”
“So the beeves died or were stolen?”
“Some of them. The rest wandered across the grasslands and woods living wild. Ranchers from the larger spreads have been scouring the prairie for their brands and rounding them up.”
“At least they branded their animals.”
“Sure. The ones that wandered off during the war, but not the calves. There’s three- and four-year-old mavericks out therewith no brand. Who’s to say who sired them? There have been disputes.”
“I bet. The kind that could leave a man dead.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not asking you to get involved in any of that.”
He exhaled and laid his forearms on the table. “And if I don’t, who will round up your cattle?” Never mind that his knowledge of the animals didn’t extend much beyond barns and stockades. But the war had taught him plenty about riding hard, living rough, and rounding up men. Could cattle be that much different?
Cora’s shoulders rose toward her ears. “I hadn’t planned that far ahead yet. I figured the garden combined with hunting would be enough since we owned our land free and clear, or at least I thought we did until Mr. Coffin showed up with the promissory note.”
This girl needed all the help she could get. “Your courage is admirable. Most women would have clung to the safety of town.”
She waved her hand at him like some plantation mistress dismissing a servant. “I had enough of town life and working all day for a pittance. I was done waiting. The war was over. It was time for action.”
Cora lifted her chin. Her gaze fell into his. Unguarded for once. Full of spirit. Lamplight glistened in her blue irises.
His pulse quickened. She was quite a woman. A smile erupted across his lips.
