She motioned to the wagon not far from them. “That is your father’s wagon. You can put your trunk in the back, and I’ll take you to the shop.”
Colt lifted the trunk again and proceeded to follow her to the wagon. A large middle-aged woman rushed past Blaze, bumping into her on her way past. She stumbled and fell against Colt. His arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, holding her steady.
Blaze’s wide eyes met his stare, and she sucked in a quick breath. She definitely wasn’t a young girl any longer. An odd sensation filled him, warming him quickly. The feeling unnerved him, so he dropped his hold and stepped back.
Blaze grumbled as she turned and glared at the woman who’d been so rude. “The least Mrs. Hubbard could do was apologize.”
Her voice had lifted in irritation, loud enough for the older woman to hear, but the woman continued marching up the boardwalk.
“Yeah,” Colt chuckled, “you’d think she owned the town or something.”
She glanced at him and gave him a smile. “Or something.”
When they reached the wagon, he set his trunk in the back. He turned to help her up, but she was already climbing up to the seat and taking the reins. Holding back a grin, he climbed up beside her on the seat.
“So,” he cleared his throat, “why are you here to get me? Why didn’t my father come?”
Blaze turned her face up to look at him, but her smile was slowly disappearing. “Your father has been very ill lately. Between your stepmother and me, we have been the ones working in the shop.”
Colt frowned. “Father is too sick to work?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugged before whipping the reins to urge the team of horses forward. “Today he has been trying to do something, but usually, he just sits in his chair and oversees our work.”
Unease settled in the pit of Colt’s stomach. He didn’t want to hear this. He wanted his father healthy enough to run the shop by himself so that Colt could do other things he enjoyed more. He hadn’t gotten along with his father for ten years – since his father married Lisa.
He touched Blaze’s arm. “Be honest with me. How bad is he?”
She sighed and frowned, keeping her focus on the road ahead. “He caught pneumonia two months ago, and he hasn’t fully recovered. I’m worried about his health. On days he feels good, he’s working, but then that wears him out, and he’s home in bed for a few days just to recover.”
Colt nodded. “That’s my pop. I pray he pulls through.”
“As do I.”
“Are you and my stepmother the only ones working in the shop?”
“No. Teddy and Leroy help us quite a bit.”
Colt gasped. “Are they old enough?”
Blaze chuckled. “Teddy is fourteen, and Leroy is twelve.”
“The years just flew by.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine them that age. To me, they are still ragamuffins.”
“Oh, they will be fine men one day.”
“What about Emma and Dakota?” Colt recalled Blaze had two younger cousins, even though they were turning out to be pristine and didn’t have the time of day for getting dirty – which is what made Blaze so much fun to be with when Colt was younger.
“They are also working at the shop.”
“What?” Colt barked a laugh. “And getting dirt under their fingernails? That’s horrible.”
She grinned. “Well, they still complain about that, but not as much.”
“Is that all who helps out?”
“Yes, that’s all.”
He studied her profile and arched an eyebrow. “And the shop is still thriving withwomenfixing wagons?”
