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home tomorrow. He can’t leave his children alone longer
than that.”
    “I’ve got to find me a woman,” Fred
added.
    That was certainly blunt. Sarah could feel
the heat rush to her face.
    “Not like that,” John said, frowning at her.
“He needs someone to watch his children so he can get his spring
planting done. He had an old Indian woman helping out but she ran
out yesterday, leaving him high and dry.”
    “Isn’t there anyone else who can watch the
children?”
    “My father-in-law would,” Fred said, “but
he’s got his ministry and anyway, he doesn’t get around too fast
anymore. Not fast enough to keep up. Missy’s as ornery as a wild
goat.”
    “Missy?”
    “The deaf one,” he said, no doubt thinking
Sarah rude for not remembering his children.
    Deaf .
    Sarah’s heart constricted. She wondered how
much was known about deafness in 1888 Wyoming. Was the poor little
girl locked in her own quiet world, battling to be heard?
    “I better get going,” Fred said. “I’m going
to try old Mrs. Warner first. She’s a sour thing but she doesn’t
have any kin of her own to look after.”
    “Who is with your children now?” Sarah
asked.
    “Nobody. That’s why I can’t be dawdling here.
Helen will do the best she can but she’s only eight. Barely fair to
her to have to be responsible for both her brother and sister.”
    Eight. Just like Miguel. Both of them with
responsibilities no eight-year-old should bear. “Maybe I could help
out for a couple days,” Sarah said.
    “What?” Again, both men spoke at the same
time. They were starting to sound like a regular chorus.
    “I’m taking the next stage out of here,”
Sarah said, “but since that doesn’t go for another six days, I
might as well make myself useful. Then maybe you won’t have to
settle for sour Mrs. Warner.” She smiled at Fred, choosing to
ignore John.
    “I don’t know,” Fred said, shaking his head.
I guess I never expected you to…”
    “Volunteer to help.” John finished his
friend’s sentence. “What’s going on here, Sarah?”
    She realized her mistake. Mindful that she
needed to be careful, she said, “Of course, I’m assuming you paid
the Indian woman something. I’d expect the same. Maybe even a bit
more since I’m getting you out of a jam.”
    John stopped stroking his chin. “It always
comes down to the money, doesn’t it, Sarah?”
    Right. Like anybody interested in money
picked social work as a career. “A woman has needs,” she said,
thinking she sounded positively Victorian.
    He didn’t respond, choosing to turn toward
Fred. “You might want to take her up on it,” he said. “You don’t
have a lot of choices right now.”
    Gee thanks. Sarah wished he stood close
enough to kick.
    “I don’t know.” Fred shifted from foot to
foot, his big frame swaying dangerously from side to side.
    Great. Snubbed by a desperate man. What he
didn’t know was that she was pretty desperate herself. “Look, I
could ride back with you now. You could be in your fields by
mid-morning. I just need to be back to town by next Wednesday to
catch the stage.”
    “You can’t stay at his house at night,” John
said. “It wouldn’t be proper.”
    God save her from narrow-minded idiots. “I
need a place to stay. What’s the difference if I stay here or at
Fred’s house?”
    “I’m your brother-in-law,” John hissed. “Fred
is a widow. People might start to talk. Especially when they find
out it’s you. I wouldn’t want his children hurt by that.”
    Now she wouldn’t be content just to kick him.
She wanted to rub his snooty nose in the dirt. She looked at Fred
but he’d suddenly developed an interest in his worn boots.
    “I won’t compromise your friend,” she
said.
    “You’d have to put some clothes on,” Fred
said, looking up. His face was almost as red as his hair.
    “I’m a little short on clothes right now,”
Sarah tried to explain. “Maybe I could borrow a shirt, John?”
    He snorted. “About