“Don’t know if you realize it.” Zach’s voice was as dry as the dusty road they’d traversed. He brought Kathy as far as the wagon and set her on the ground, keeping a firm hold on one arm. “But you ain’t never going to be a cowboy.”
Kathy had eyes as dark as her brother’s. The two scowled at each other.
Amelia pressed her fingers to her mouth to stifle her amusement.
Kathy jerked toward her. “Who are you?”
Zach’s voice rumbled in his throat, a clear warning for his sister to mind her manners.
Amelia wasn’t offended. “I’m Amelia, and you’re Kathy. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m not Kathy. I’m Kat.”
“Hi, Kat.” A name most appropriate, indeed. The girl seemed all fangs and claws. “This is Poppy. Poppy, say hi.”
Poppy managed a quick greeting and then buried her face in Amelia’s skirts.
“She scared of me?” Kat demanded.
“She might be.” Amelia wasn’t going to point out that Kat’s yelling and fighting were reason enough for a child to experience a healthy dose of fear.
“’Course she’s scared of you. She thinks you’re some kind of wild animal.” Zach took in the scene. “Is Pa in the house?”
“Pa’s gone.”
“Gone?” He jerked her arm. “Where? When? Where’s Gil?”
“Gil’s behind the house. In the shade. With a bottle.” She broke from Zach’s grasp. “She planning to stay?”
“For a bit,” Zach said. “I have to find Pa. I’ll deal with Gil later.”
“Have fun.” Kathy started to flounce away, then stopped. “Whatcha gonna do with them?”
Them. Kathy meant her and Poppy. Her words were far from welcoming. Lack of hospitality must run in the family. Not an encouraging thought.
“Would you show her to a room? Help her take her things inside.”
“Why me?”
“Could you please just do it?”
The strain of holding his temper must do strange and frightening things to this man’s brain.
Zach didn’t wait for Kat to agree. He got halfway to the barn when a horse rode toward them.
“Here comes trouble.” Kat’s disgust filled her words.
Amelia picked up Poppy and held her tight. After Kat’s dire warning, she half expected the rider to pull a gun. The man might have purchased his clothes miles from the place. Not a speck of dust clung to him. His hat appeared equally new. He rode a fine-looking bay horse. She checked his boots. Yes, exactly as the letter writer had described—Boots that haven’t seen anything but a clean floor.
“It’s Mr. Sobel, your new neighbor, isn’t it?”
“Neighbor by closeness but not by any sort of kindness. The man is nothing more than a well-dressed crook.” Kat fairly spat out her words.
The man rode up to Zach, who waited with his arms akimbo and his brow furrowed deep enough to plant potatoes.
“Nice to find you home.” Mr. Sobel sounded pleasant enough. If one didn’t hear the mocking undertones. “Too bad you aren’t out looking after your cows.” He leaned over his saddle horn. His voice grew hard. “Boy, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. This isn’t a job for a youngster. Sell out while you have cows to sell. Move to town where you can tend to your sister and your addled father.”
Zach dropped his hands to his sides, and his fists curled and uncurled. “I ain’t sellin’, and especially not to the likes of you.”
