Blaze’s jaw tightened. “I don’t need to hear it.”
“She said Pa stole gold from the Riders,” Rachel said in a rush, like the words were heavy on her tongue.
Blaze froze, then gave the mare a firm slap on the hindquarters, sending her trotting into the corral. Dust rose around his boots.
“She don’t know what she’s talkin’ about,” he said.
“She sounded sure,” Rachel pressed.
“People sound sure about a lot of lies,” Blaze said. His voice had an edge now.
Rachel glanced at him, eyes searching. “So, he didn’t?”
Blaze stared past the corral, toward the hazy mountains in the distance.
“No,” he said flatly.
His sister didn’t ask again.
***
Their mother came down the porch steps, skirts brushing the dirt. Her dark hair was pinned tight, though strands had slipped loose. She carried a basket in one hand and wore a weary look in her eyes.
“You two near done?” she asked.
“Done,” Blaze said.
Rachel nodded quickly.
“Good,” their mother said. “Blaze, I need you here today. There’s wood to split and fences to mend. Rachel, you’ll come with me into town.”
Rachel’s face lit up. Blaze nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
His mother set the basket on the wagon bench. “And, Blaze, mind what folks say if you hear ’em. I know you’ve got a temper in you, same as your pa.”
“I won’t pick no fights,” Blaze said.
“Don’t matter if you start it or not. Folks want reason enough to think ill,” she said.
He nodded again, though heat prickled under his collar.
Rachel glanced between them. Their mother’s mouth tightened.
“Words are wind,” she added. “Let the wind blow on by.”
Rachel kicked at the dirt. “I hate it.”
“Me too,” Blaze muttered.
“Enough,” their mother said, climbing up onto the wagon. “Load that basket, Blaze.”
He hefted it up beside her, then stepped back as she took the reins. Rachel scrambled up, grinning like she’d won a prize.
“Don’t burn the place down while we’re gone,” Rachel teased.
“Don’t boss Ma around while you’re gone,” Blaze shot back.
Their mother flicked the reins. “Both of you hush.”
