The Teacher Who Brought Christmas to His Ranch (Preview)

Chapter One

Van Horn, Texas, 1886

“Is that it?” Gerry asked, squirming with excitement in his seat as he pointed ahead at the small town     .

“Looks like it,” Ethan replied. “It’s awful…busy.”

They rolled on, the wagon jostling over ruts as they neared the edge of town. Folks moved up and down the wooden sidewalks of Van Horn, busy with their errands, and their voices carrying on a puff of cold air.

“Is that a saloon?” Gerry said excitedly. “Can we go in the saloon?”

Ethan shook his head. He wasn’t going into any saloon. In fact, he felt a strong pull to turn the team around and head back the other way. He might’ve done it, too—if he’d had any notion where to go. But he didn’t. And he was a long way from anything familiar.

“We’re not going to the saloon,” Ethan informed him. “I just need to get some directions and pick up a few things. Then, we’re going home.”

Home. Ethan rolled the word around on his tongue and it felt strange. It didn’t taste right. He wondered if it would ever feel like home or if he’d just made another mistake in a long line of big mistakes. Only this time, it wasn’t just him who’d pay the price. Gerry, his eleven-year-old ward, would      too.

The horses were tired, their heads drooping and flanks streaked with dirt and dried sweat, despite the cold weather. Ethan sat on the driver’s bench, boots planted on the footboard and shoulders stiff.

Beside him, Gerry shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot on the hard wooden plank that served as a seat. He didn’t complain, but Ethan could see the boy was exhausted, just like he was.

No sense dwelling on the stressful journey now, as it was soon coming to an end. Their destination was Cole Ranch in Van Horn, and it couldn’t be far now.

He’d heard Van Horn wasn’t much to look at, but it was more than Ethan expected. A row of buildings lined the main street. On one side was a general store, saloon, barber, and a post office. On the other side was the sheriff’s office, a livery, a tailor, and a couple of other buildings he didn’t immediately recognize.

It looked like every inch of the town was dressed up for Christmas, and that was the first thing that caught Ethan’s eye. Garlands were looped between lampposts, red bows hung from porch rails, and a huge cedar had been decorated in the middle of town.

A schoolhouse stood at the far end of the town. It was also decorated with red and green garland and had a manger scene carefully displayed in the yard.

Everywhere he looked, there was a reminder of Christmas. Even the post office had a wooden Santa leaned against the building, one eye painted higher than the other.

Ethan’s stomach turned. Christmas. He hated it.

“We never saw anything like this at the orphanage,” Gerry said, his gaze bouncing from one scene to the next.

Ethan grunted. “It’s a waste of time and money, if you ask me.”

Ethan had grown up with the holiday, sure, but it had never meant joy to him. It was the day his parents died, on their way to church to donate toys to the orphans. Little did they know at the time, but their own son would be one, too, very soon.

It had rained for two days straight—so he’d been told. The bridge washed out, taking his ma and pa’s carriage with it. Taking his future with it.

Christmas never got any better after that. At the orphanage in San Antonio, Christmas meant a slice of fruitcake—sometimes edible, sometimes not—and a Bible with someone else’s name scratched out on the inside cover.

He could recall a couple of times when the matrons took them into town to see the decorations. That was even worse. Watching other kids laugh with their parents, arms full of wrapped boxes and peppermint sticks. It just reminded Ethan what he was missing.

Now, years later, the sight of wreaths and blinking lanterns still made his chest tighten. He didn’t see celebration. He saw what     he and Gerry never had. Family. Love. Warmth.

“Look at that!” Gerry pointed, bouncing in his seat.

A young lady—probably in her early twenties—was busy trying to hold some scaffolding steady while a man worked to place an enormous silver star on top of the town’s Christmas tree.

Ethan had to admit, the girl was striking. About medium height, with her hair twisted in a knot on top of her head, she wasn’t big as a minute. As they approached, she turned her sparkling hazel eyes toward him and Gerry.

“Oh, hello,” she said, smiling and waving at Gerry.

Ethan looked away quickly. The last thing he wanted was her trying to weasel her way into their business.

     Ethan pulled the horses to a stop in front of the general store and climbed down. His legs ached from the long ride. Actually, his entire body felt like someone had taken a switch to him.

Gerry looked at him, waiting.

“Just stay here,” Ethan said. “I won’t be long.”

Gerry sighed and nodded. Ethan had expected more of a fight from him, but he just turned around on the seat and started staring at the girl again.

Ethan shook his head but left the boy to gawk.

Inside, the store smelled like every other mercantile he’d ever been to. It was a unique smell, like someone had bottled the frontier and let it loose in one room. All those scents didn’t belong together but had somehow learned to exist side by side.

Shelves lined the walls, stacked with sacks of flour, tins of coffee, and bolts of cloth, to name a few. Behind the counter stood a man who looked like he’d just stepped off the mountain.

He had long dark hair, a thick, bushy beard, and arms like tree trunks. He wore a leather vest over a faded, cotton-flannel shirt and a smile as bright as a new penny.

“Hello there,” the man said before Ethan could speak. “Can I help you find something?”

Ethan hesitated. “Yeah. I think maybe you can. Name’s Ethan Cole.”

The man nodded and grinned. “I’m Jack Freemont. This here’s my store. If you need something you don’t see, just let me know and I can order it for you.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, looking around at the available merchandise. “I may take you up on that.”

“You’ll probably need to,” Jack laughed. “I heard you were coming. Henry lived alone out at the ranch for a long time. He didn’t exactly keep it stocked up on supplies, unless you count whiskey and dried beans.”

“You knew my uncle?” Ethan asked surprised, though he really shouldn’t be. Everyone knew everybody in a small town—knew everyone’s business.

“I guess you know he left me the ranch, then,” Ethan said.

“Everyone knows that,” Jack said, leaning on the counter. “The place has been sitting empty for a year or more. Are you married? You bringing anyone with you?”

“I’m not married,” Jack admitted. “But I brought my ward with me. His name’s Gerry Heinrich and he’s eleven.”

Jack’s eyebrows lifted. “I see. You got him signed up for school yet?”

“We just rolled into town, right this minute,” Ethan explained.

“Well, you’ll want to talk to Eliza Dawson, then. She’s our schoolteacher—sweet as sugar and loves these kids. You might want to get with her soon, too. School will be letting out for the Christmas holiday soon and you won’t get another chance till after the new year.”

Ethan nodded. “Eliza Dawson. I have it.     ”

“Good. The schoolhouse is at the end of Main Street. Red building with a bell. Can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” Ethan said, looking around at Jack’s wares. “I reckon I’m going to need a few staples—coffee, flour, sugar, salt. You got any matches?”

After filling a large crate with food and supplies, Jack paused to take a total.

“You know     how to get to the ranch from here, right?” Jack asked.

“Not really,” Ethan admitted. “     Just keep going east, I reckon.”

“Yep. Just keep following that road east,” Jack told him. “In a couple of miles, you’ll run into the Cole ranch. There’s a sign by the road.”

Jack nodded his appreciation as he pulled the crate toward him. But Jack wasn’t finished.

“Where ‘bouts did y’all come from? I heard all kinds of places from Houston to El Paso.”

“San Antonio,” Ethan replied, picking up the crate and trying to escape.

“Woo-wee!” Jack whistled. “That’s a good little haul. What’d that take you? About a month?”

“Close,” Ethan said, stepping back toward the door. “Thanks for your help.”

Ethan finally escaped outside, sighing a breath of relief. Jack apparently was one of those fellas who liked knowing everything about everyone.

Ethan turned and walked back toward the wagon.

Gerry was still sitting where Ethan had left him, watching as the pretty girl finished the Christmas tree.

“There’s the schoolhouse right over there,” Ethan told him as he loaded the crate in the back of the wagon. “Your teacher’s name is Mrs. Dawson. We’ll go tomorrow and get you signed up so you can start right after the break.”

Gerry didn’t answer.

“It’s going to be different here,” Ethan told him. “I promise.”

“I don’t want to go,” Gerry said, his voice low.

“I know. But there’s nothing to be scared of here. Jack said the schoolteacher was a real nice woman who loves kids.”

Gerry shook his head. “I can’t. I need to stay with you.”

Ethan sighed. “You’ll be fine. It’s just school. You’ll come home every evening.”

Gerry’s face twisted. “You said we’d stick together.”

“We are. But you can’t just do chores all day. You need book-learning if you’re ever going to make something of yourself.”

“I don’t care about book-learning or making something of myself,” Gerry sobbed.

Ethan stepped closer. “But you will. Later. Trust me.”

“No!”

Gerry jumped down from the wagon before Ethan could grab him and took off running down the street. His initial reaction was to run after him, but he knew he’d never catch him. Jerry was a good runner. He’d had to be. It was a matter of survival for him.

“Gerry!” Ethan shouted. “Come back!”

The boy didn’t stop.

Ethan cursed under his breath and started after him but stopped at the end of the sidewalk. He couldn’t leave the wagon and horses unattended. He stood there, fists clenched, wondering how he was ever going to find the kid.

The town’s Christmas décor sparkled and glistened all around him, bright and cheerful. But Ethan felt none of it. He didn’t want to have to get the sheriff involved in a family squabble on their very first day in Van Horn. He wasn’t sure what else he could do.

He turned back to the wagon, his teeth clenched and his heart thudding. He’d come here for a fresh start. But fresh didn’t mean easy, he reckoned. And it apparently didn’t mean peaceful, either.

He looked down the street again, hoping Gerry would turn around. He didn’t. There was nowhere for him to go. Not really.

Ethan climbed back onto the wagon seat, hands gripping the reins. He’d give Gerry a few minutes. Let him burn off his fit. Hopefully, he’d come back. Then Ethan could talk sense into him.

The horses shifted, restless and nearly spent. Ethan stared straight ahead, past the garland and the crooked Santa, past the manger scenes and the bows.

It was obvious that he didn’t belong in a town like this, never had. But he was here. And so was Gerry. There was no turning back now. They were going to have to make this work.

Chapter Two

“Miss Dawson!” a voice called.

Eliza turned to see three of her students running toward her—Sarah, Ben, and little Ruthie. They stopped short of the lamppost, eyes wide at the decorations.

“These are beautiful!” Sarah gasped.

“Did you put up all of these by yourself?” Ben asked.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Eliza said. “And I expect you three to help tomorrow when we decorate the schoolhouse.”

Ben grinned. “Ma says you’re trying to turn Van Horn into a Christmas card.”

“She’s not wrong,” Eliza said. “I like things to look cheerful.”

Ruthie tugged on her sleeve. “Can we have cookies?”

Eliza chuckled. “There will be cookies if you help hang the stars straight.”

The children laughed and started pointing out which decorations they liked best. Eliza smiled, listening to their chatter, until a shrill voice cut through the air.

“You hung that wrong,” Mary said.

Eliza turned to see her fourteen-year-old sister standing behind her, arms crossed, face pinched. Mary was holding one of the garlands Eliza had just finished tying.

“It’s crooked,” Mary said. “And the bow’s too low.”

“It’s fine,” Eliza said. “Just leave it.”

Mary didn’t. She yanked the garland down and started redoing it, muttering under her breath. Eliza sighed. Mary had always been difficult. She couldn’t remember a time when her sister wasn’t moody and sharp-tongued, always looking for     an argument. Eliza tried to be patient, but it wore thin.

While Mary fussed with the decorations, Eliza glanced back toward the general store.     A man had come out and was speaking to     a boy who was sitting in a wagon. A moment later, the boy jumped down from the wagon and took off running.

“Are you listening to me?” Mary demanded.

Eliza rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not.”

Mary gasped, then scowled. “You never listen to me. Wait! Where are you going?”

     Eliza took off after the boy.

The man had followed him to the end of the sidewalk      before giving up and turning around     to head back toward the wagon.

But she didn’t follow them. Instead, she cut through the alley behind the saloon, and soon spotted the boy near the schoolhouse, climbing up a tree like he meant to live in it. He was fast, but Eliza was faster. She reached the tree and stood beneath it, hands on her hips.

“My goodness,” Eliza huffed, cupping her hands over her eyes and looking up at the boy. “I don’t think a squirrel could have shimmied up there any faster.”

She smiled at him, taking the opportunity to assess his appearance. He was small, skinny even, with red hair and freckles. He was dressed in a pair of old overalls and his boots looked as though they’ seen better days.

“I ain’t no squirrel,” the boy said sullenly.

“Yes, I see that now. How long you planning to stay up there?” she asked.

The boy didn’t answer.

“I’m Eliza Dawson,” she said. “I live around here. What’s your name?”

     The boy said nothing.

“Okay. You don’t have to talk,” she said. “But I’d like to know why you ran away. Was that man being mean to you? Do I need to fetch the sheriff?”

No way was she really going to fetch the sheriff. But the boy didn’t know that.

He looked down at her from his perch in the tree, his face tight. “I’m not going to school.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to get beat anymore. Or ganged up on.”

Eliza’s stomach turned. “Who beat you?”

“Teachers.”

Teachers? Eliza was horrified.

“They let the other kids beat me up.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she said sincerely.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it matters to me,” she said, her pity quickly turning to ire. “Because I’m the schoolteacher here. And I would never harm you. I wouldn’t let anyone else harm you, either.”

He stared at her, unsure.

“You wouldn’t?” he finally asked.

She shook her head slowly. “No, I wouldn’t. Because I’ve been teaching here for years. And I care about my students. All of them.”

He didn’t speak again, but after a moment, he started climbing down.

Eliza smiled and held out her hand. “What’s your name?”

“Gerry,” he said, his voice low.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Gerry. I want you to come to school Monday morning and just see what it’s like. Try it out. We work hard, but we have a lot of fun, too. And no one will ever hurt you.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

He was a nice-looking boy when he smiled, with his bright red hair and freckles. She saw that his front tooth was chipped and wondered how it happened. But she was too afraid to ask. She might get so angry, she’d have to punch someone in the nose. And she didn’t believe in violence.

How could any teacher mistreat a child like that?

They walked back to the wagon together, where the man stood waiting, his arms crossed. He looked at her like he didn’t trust her, but he didn’t say anything when she introduced herself.

“Hello! I’m Eliza Dawson,” she said. “Schoolteacher.”

The man looked surprised for a moment, then recovered. “Ethan Cole.”

“And this is Gerry?”

Ethan nodded again.

“Well, Gerry has agreed to join us at school Monday,” she said, giving Gerry a bright smile. “Just to try it out. He’ll be well looked after. I promise.”

Ethan didn’t answer.     Instead, he turned around and climbed into the wagon, took the reins, and signaled for Gerry to get in.

“Bye, Gerry!” She waved as they left.

Eliza watched them go, wondering what kind of place they’d come from where a teacher would hurt a child. She’d heard stories, but they always felt made-up. After meeting Gerry, they didn’t feel made-up anymore.     

She stood there for a moment, watching the wagon roll down the street. It wasn’t often that Van Horn saw newcomers. And when they did, it was usually drifters, rail workers, and cattlemen. And they only stayed for a short time.

This man, Ethan, hadn’t seemed like a drifter to her. Or a rail worker or a cattle baron. The back of their wagon looked full of their belongings. Trunks and boxes were piled high and tied down with care. It wasn’t the kind of load that someone toted around for a long weekend.

She wondered if Ethan was Gerry’s father. He certainly didn’t seem old enough. But then, appearances could be deceiving. Their looks weren’t that similar, either. Gerry had red hair and Ethan’s was dark. Or, at least, what she could see of it that escaped from beneath his hat.

And then, there were the eyes. Gerry’s eyes were green. Ethan’s eyes were a bright blue color that seemed to have jumped right off a painter’s brush. She’d never seen any like them. Ethan’s clothes were clean and practical, but he also had the look of someone who had missed a few meals. He had a large frame, but his clothes seemed to hang off him in places. It wasn’t too noticeable. But she saw it. Maybe they’d just had a hard journey getting here.

Once the wagon had disappeared, she      walked into the general store, where Jack Freemont stood behind the counter.

“Good morning, Mr. Freemont!” she chirped.

“Eliza! How many times do I need to tell you to call me Jack now? You’re all grown-up.”

It was hard for her to do. He’d been ‘Mr. Freemont’ all her life and the man had helped to raise her. His daughter, Abigail, was Eliza’s best friend. The two of them had been thick as thieves most of their lives and growing up, Eliza had probably spent as much time at their house as she had her own.

“I’ll try,” she sighed. “I just wanted to ask who that gentleman was that was just in here? The stranger, I mean.”

Jack wrinkled his brow for a moment, thinking. “Oh, that was Ethan Cole,” Jack said. “Henry Cole’s nephew.”

Eliza blinked. “Nephew? I didn’t think Henry had any family.”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t think he even knew it till right before he passed. He hired some private eye out of El Paso to find him. Said he wanted his ranch to stay in the family. Turns out Jack was his sister’s boy.”

“I thought his sister had been dead for years?”

“She was. But apparently, she had a child before she passed. Might be that’s how she passed. He never found out for sure.”

“So, he’s moving in next door to me?” she confirmed, smiling.

“Looks that way. But I’m not sure your pa will be as happy about it.” Jack chuckled.

Her pa was never happy about anything. So, why would this be any different?

“He’s not a real friendly lad,” Jack mused. “I had to pry his name out of him.”

Now, it was Eliza’s turn to chuckle. “Yeah. He’s not much for shooting the breeze. Do we know anything about the boy that was with him?”

“Oh. I almost forgot about that. Ethan’s not married. He said the boy was his ward. He was going to come see you about signing him up for school.”

“So, he’s raising an orphan?”

Jack frowned, then nodded. “Sounds that way to me.”

“Where are they moving here from?”

Jack sighed. “I would have paid closer attention if I know’d you were going to test me on all this.”

Eliza chuckled. “I was just curious.”

“I think he said San Antonio,” he replied, stroking his beard. “Yeah. He said it took them near a month to get here.”

Eliza nodded. “Those poor souls. That’s a long, hard journey.”

“Well, he bought plenty of supplies and paid in cash. Looks like they’ll be fine now.”

Eliza thanked him and left the store, returning to the square, where the children were playing a game of chase. Mary stood off to the side, pouting with her arms crossed.

Then, without a word, Mary grabbed one of Eliza’s favorite ornaments hanging from the lamppost—a carved wooden star—and snapped it in half.

Eliza gasped. “Mary!”

Mary tossed the pieces on the ground and walked off laughing.

Eliza bent to pick them up, her heart sinking. “Pa made that,” she called after Mary.

“She’s awful,” Abigail said, appearing from nowhere. She stepped up beside her and put her arm around Eliza’s shoulders.

Eliza sighed. “She’s just… difficult sometimes.”

“She’s spoiled,” Abigail said flatly. “And she needs discipline. Your pa lets her get away with murder.”

“She lost her mother at birth, Abigail,” Eliza said.

“So did you.”

“I know. But I was older. At least I had a mother for the first eleven years of my life. It’s been hard on Mary.”

“Eliza, don’t forget I lost my mother at birth, too,” Abigail said. “And I didn’t grow up to be a holy terror.”

Eliza had forgotten for a moment. “I’m sorry, Abigail. That was a thoughtless thing to say to you.”

“It’s fine,” Abigail said, squeezing her shoulders. “I shouldn’t be complaining to you about your sister.”

Eliza didn’t say anything. She just held the broken star in her hand and looked down the road, where Ethan and Gerry had disappeared. She knew two more people who’d grown up without a mother. At least she and Abigail had good fathers who stepped in when it counted.

Life on the frontier was hard. People needed good friends and neighbors to get by sometimes. And she was committed to being that for Ethan and Gerry.

Chapter Three

“Whoa. Just let me look at it. I know it hurts.”

Ethan crouched beside the stallion as he traced the swollen edge of his hoof with his fingers. The horse twitched, uneasy.

And when Ethan pressed further back near the shoe, the horse tried to pull away. That confirmed it. Steve had an abscess, no doubt about it.

Ethan grumbled under his breath. This was all he needed.

He stood and wiped his hands on his pants. Steve had started favoring the foot the day before, and now it seemed worse. Ethan had seen abscesses before—at the orphanage stable and on a couple of cattle drives—but he’d never had to treat one himself.

He didn’t have the money for a vet. But he knew what needed doing. The shoe had to come off, and the abscess drained. If left alone, it’d get worse. Might even lame the horse for good.

He walked into the barn and started digging through his uncle’s tool chest. It was full of useful tools—rasp, clincher, hammer. But no hoof nipper. He checked the shelves, the nooks, even the old tack box in the corner. Nothing.

Ethan leaned against the stall door, his jaw tight. Without a nipper, he couldn’t pull the shoe clean. He could try with the clincher, but it’d be rough and might do more harm than good. He needed the right tool.

Which meant going back to town.

He didn’t like the idea. Not just because of the ride, but because he’d have to put the tool on credit. His uncle had left him the ranch and little else. Ethan had spent most of the money he had saved from his last cattle drive to purchase a few heads of cattle, three milk cows, half a dozen chickens, and four young pigs.

With what little he had left, added to the little bit he’d inherited from his uncle, he needed to make repairs to the barn, fix the roof, and put up new fencing. By itself, the money Henry had left behind wouldn’t stretch far, at all.

Ethan had hoped to enter into an arrangement with Jack to trade milk and eggs for food and supplies. He could pay off his livestock feed with his beef sales in the spring. Much of his plan depended on Jack and whether he’d be willing to extend Ethan any credit.

He reckoned this was as good a time as any to discuss it with him.

Either way, Steve needed help. And Ethan wasn’t about to let the animal suffer just because money was tight.

He saddled his other horse, a frisky, three-year-old mare named Fiona who was expecting her first     foal and rode the short distance into town. It was midday now and the sun had done its job, warming the chill in the air.

The town was quiet, save for a few wagons and folks running in and out of the various shops. He tied off his horse near the general store and stepped inside.

Jack Freemont looked up from the counter. “Afternoon, Cole.”

Ethan nodded. “I need a hoof nipper.”

Jack raised a brow. “Okay. Got a horse in trouble?”

“The stallion. He’s got an abscess and I can’t pull the shoe without nippers.”

“I think I have some. Give me a just a minute to look.” Jack walked to the back and returned a minute later with a new pair of nippers. “Here we are. Brand new and made from good steel.”

Ethan looked at the price tag and exhaled through his nose. “I don’t suppose—”

“You want to start a credit account?” Jack asked, reaching beneath the counter and fishing out a sheet of paper. “I just need you to fill this out. Would you like me to read it to you?”

“No. I can read,” Ethan confirmed, pulling the paper in front of him.

It took him several minutes to complete the form, not because he couldn’t read it. But it had a lot of questions on it—some of which, he wasn’t sure about the answers.

When he finished, he pushed the paper across the counter to Jack.

Jack picked it up and began reading through it. He didn’t flinch. “You reckon your beef sales in the spring will pull in this much?”

Ethan wasn’t even going to try lying to the man. “I honestly don’t know. I took a guess. I’m hoping to slowly build up my herd over the next year. I reckon I’ll get there eventually.”

Jack nodded and continued reading. “Says here you want to barter for food and supplies.”

“Yeah,” Ethan cleared his throat, ready to lay out a proposal. “I meant to talk to you about that.”

“I’ll take deliveries on Mondays and Fridays,” Jack said. “I’m afraid I can’t do more than that.”

“No, that’s good. Very generous,” Ethan said, wondering why he’d been dreading this talk so much. “I have half a dozen hens and three Jersey cows. So, I can bring about three dozen eggs a week and around eight or nine gallons of milk.”

Jack scribbled in his ledger. “Alright. I’ve marked it down. I’ll provide you with a voucher each time you come in, and you can exchange them for food and supplies.”

“Thank you, Jack.” Ethan was trying not to get emotional, but he felt like a hundred pounds had been lifted from his shoulders.

Jack put away the ledgers and pushed the nippers toward Ethan. “Don’t forget that you’ll need to soak the hoof after you drain it. Got Epsom salts?”

“No. I don’t. Thanks for the reminder,” Ethan said. If Jack continued on like this, Ethan was going to be forced to hug the man.

“Grab some on your way out. Bottom shelf over there,” he said, waving his pencil at the front of the store, then scribbling in his ledger again. “Just try to keep the hoof clean for a few days.”

Ethan nodded. “I’ll do that,” he said, then turned to leave.

He stopped short when     voice behind him said, “I have your salts.”

He turned to see a young woman walking toward him, a bolt of cloth in one arm and a box of Epsom Salts in the other. She was tall with light brown hair, pulled back in a long braid. She must have been in her early twenties and     had a smile that made him wary.

He took the salts from her hand and nodded. “Thank you.”

“You must be Ethan Cole,” she said, ignoring his comment. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He frowned. He’d only been in town for two days and had only met two people.

“I’m Abigail,” she said. “Jack’s daughter.”

She turned and smiled at her pa, and he all but rolled his eyes. “You’ll get used to her. She’s like a cowlick. Pops up one day and never     goes away, no matter what you do to try and get rid of her.”

“Oh, Pa,” she chuckled. “Be nice.”

Ethan was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Well, it nice to meet you,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. “Thanks again, Jack.”

Jack nodded once. “Take care, Ethan.”

He thought he was home-free when he made it out the door, but Abigail came racing out behind him.

“Say, Ethan. You’re the one who brought the little red-haired boy,” she said. “Gerry?”

“I did.” Ethan felt his muscles tighten up. Gerry was a good boy. If they’d just give him a chance.

“He’s sweet,” Abigail said with a smile. “And quiet. But Eliza says he’s sharp as a tack.”

Ethan blinked, then shifted the tool in his hand. He hadn’t expected a compliment. “Good. Glad to hear it.”

“You remember Eliza, right?” Abigail went on. “I think y’all met yesterday. She’s the schoolteacher here. And the nurse, and the Sunday school leader, and the town decorator. And I could probably go on.”

“No need,” Ethan said. “Yes, I remember her.”

Abigail nodded, smiling happily. “She’s my best friend and like a second daughter to my pa. She was really excited when Gerry showed up at school this morning. I bet he’s having a lot of fun.”

Ethan gave a polite smile and stepped around her. “Yes, I’m sure he is.”

“Well, come back and see us,” Abigail called after him. “Y’all take care.”

After dropping the supplies in his saddlebag, Ethan let out a breath. He didn’t mind conversation, but he preferred them to be short. Especially when he didn’t know the person or have anything in particular to talk about.

Abigail was like her father—friendly, outgoing, and very chatty. He respected it, but it wore him out.

He was just about to mount his horse when he spotted the sheriff walking down the boardwalk. The sheriff gave him a nod.

“Howdy,” the sheriff called.

“Sheriff,     ” Ethan replied with a tip of his hat.

The sheriff stopped beside him, sizing up Fiona. “Good looking animal,” he said.

“Thank you. This here’s Fiona.” Ethan patted Fiona’s neck.

“My     ma would skin me if she knew I’d introduced myself to your horse before you,” he chuckled. “I’m Tim Larkin, the sheriff for this lot. You can call me Tim. I heard you’re fixing up Henry’s old place.”

“Trying to.” Ethan reached out his hand to shake. “I’m Ethan Cole.”

“That’s a pretty good patch of land. It needs some work, for sure. But the ranch is promising,” Tim said.

Ethan nodded. “I like what I’ve seen so far. I think we’ll manage.”

Tim looked out toward the schoolhouse. “That’s right. I hear you have a young’un, too. Is he settling in?”

“That’d be my ward, Gerry. Today’s his first day of school. I was thinking of stopping by to check in on him on my way home.”

Tim smiled. “I’m sure Eliza would be fine with that. She’s an excellent teacher. All the kids love her. Parents, too, for that matter.”

“So, I’ve heard. From many sources now.” Ethan murmured.

“Well, you take care now. Holler if you need anything,” Tim said, clapping him on the arm and moving on down the sidewalk.

That was one of the things Ethan decided he liked about him. He didn’t stand around for an hour trying to fill the air with empty words. He said what needed saying and then went on his way.

Ethan mounted his horse and walked her toward the schoolhouse. He was still unsure whether wanted to go inside. He didn’t want to embarrass Gerry. He just wanted to see how he was getting along on his first day. Maybe get a sense of whether he was adjusting.

But as he approached the schoolhouse, he heard voices. The closer he got, he realized it was Eliza Dawson’s voice, clear and urgent, and Gerry’s, muffled whining. He glanced over and saw Eliza standing beneath a tree on the other side of the schoolhouse. She was looking up into the branches.

“Gerry, please come down, sweetheart,” she pleaded. “No one will laugh or tease you. I promise.”

Ethan stopped at the edge of the yard and surveyed the scene in front of him. Gerry was high up in the tree, perched on a thick limb with his skinny arms wrapped around the trunk. His face was red—redder than usual—and he looked like he’d been crying.

“I’m not singing,” Gerry cried. “I won’t.”

“That’s fine,” Eliza said. “You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to. It’s not mandatory. Just come down.”

Gerry didn’t move.

Ethan stepped closer but stayed quiet. Eliza hadn’t seen him yet.

“You’re not in trouble,” she told Gerry. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I really don’t have to sing?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she told him. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. Just come down so we can talk.”

“Okay,” he huffed.

Gerry stood and wrapped one leg around the trunk, trying to shimmy down. But his foot slipped. Eliza screamed.

“Gerry!”

The boy fell hard, hitting the ground with a thud.

Ethan hopped off his horse and raced over, his heart pounding.

Eliza dropped to her knees beside Gerry, checking him over. “Gerry. Speak to me! Are you hurt?”

Gerry groaned, eyes squeezed shut.

Ethan knelt beside them. “Let me see.”

Gerry opened his eyes, blinking against the pain.

“I can’t move my arm,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Eliza looked up at Ethan. “I’ll run and fetch Doc Carter.”

She took off running toward town and Ethan focused all his attention on Gerry. He was scared that Gerry might have damaged his back or had some internal injury they couldn’t see. “Does it hurt anywhere else, Gerry?”

Gerry didn’t say anything for a minute, then informed him, “Everything hurts.”

“That might be a good thing. Miss Dawson will be right back with the doctor,” Ethan assured him. “Why were you in that tree?”

“I didn’t want to sing in front of the class,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

Ethan smiled. “It’s okay. But next time, just tell Miss Dawson if something makes you anxious or uncomfortable. Okay?”

“Okay. She told me I didn’t have to,” he admitted.

Ethan helped Gerry sit up. “You alright?”

Gerry nodded slowly.

“We’ll let the doctor take a look at that arm,” Ethan said. “Then, we’ll go home.”

Eliza came running back, Dr. Carter in tow. He crouched beside Gerry and began poking and prodding. “So, I hear you thought you could fly?” he said to Gerry as he examined his arm.

“I didn’t,” Ethan objected. “I just didn’t want to sing.”

“So, you sat up in a tree, acting like a bird?” Doc Carter teased. “Tell me, do you know what birds do when they’re sitting in trees?”

Gerry blushed. “Sing.”

Doc Carter laughed, then looked at Ethan. “He’s going to be fine. I think he’s broken his arm and maybe twisted his ankle, too. But he’ll live to climb more trees.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Eliza said, her shoulders wilting in relief.

Doc Carter patted her shoulder. “It’ll be okay, my dear. But I’m going to need you to carry him to my office so I can set the bone and put a splint on it,” he told Ethan.

Ethan nodded, standing up and lifting Gerry into his arms. The poor boy was so underweight that Ethan didn’t even break a sweat.

“Follow me,” Doc Carter said, turning to walk back toward his office.

“Would you take care of my horse,” Ethan asked Eliza.

“Of course,” she said, already walking over to grab Fiona’s reins.

Ethan looked down at Gerry and smiled. He’d brought the boy with him because he thought he could do a better job taking care of him than the orphanage.

Now, he wasn’t so sure. He’d already let the boy go off and get hurt. He was going to have to do better. Maybe set down some rules—the first one being no climbing any more trees.          

Ethan leaned back in the chair, watching Eliza pace near the entrance.

“This is my fault,” she kept murmuring.

“It’s not your fault,” Ethan told her. “Gerry likes to climb trees. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him fall, though. Maybe it will make him more careful in the future.”

She was still rattled, still pacing back and forth, blaming herself for Gerry’s accident. He wasn’t sure why she was taking it so hard. It really wasn’t her fault—kids climbed trees, especially Gerry—but she couldn’t accept that. Ethan didn’t have the energy to argue any further.

The boy was fine. No broken bones, no bruises. Just a mile-wide stubborn streak, and a need for sympathy and attention.

“How about I come out and tutor him for a while.” She got excited about that idea. She seemed to think that it was her path to redemption.

“It’s not necessary,” Ethan told her.

“I insist,” she argued. “It’s the least I can do. And the school holiday will begin next week. So, it’s not for long.”

Ethan sighed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having her around every day, sitting at the kitchen table, trying to converse with him in between Gerry’s lessons. It stirred something uneasy in him.

“I can get him caught up with the other kids in the class,” she offered.

“I reckon that’s fine. But just for a couple of weeks,” he said firmly.

She smiled, a relieved look on her face as she sat down across from him. The room was quiet and calm again. Ethan looked at her, then down at the floor. He didn’t know what this was turning into, but it was happening right under his nose.

And there was apparently nothing he could do about it.