Wait For The Sunrise Part 8

just acted polite, you know, and went on to the next person or business orwhatever.

"Finally he got to me. He asked if I worked on a farm or ranch and if I knew of anyone hirin'. By then, I couldn't resist. I just said, " Why, sh.o.r.e,"and brung him on home with me."

"You brought him here without finding out where he belonged?"

Louie laughed.

"Well, I always figure it's first things first in this world. I meant to feed him, give him a place to sleep and then go about trying to figure why hewas out on his own."

Louie shoveled a forkful of hash into his mouth and Winn waited for him to finish the story. After a few minutes of silence he asked, "Did you findout?"

"Yep."

Winn waited again. In spite of his determination to mind his own business,he was interested in this young boy's story. It gave him a chance to forgethis own problems. At the same time, it didn't seem right to ask questions.Louie would finish the story sooner or later.

When Louie finally spoke it was to offer him more hash, which he spooned ontoWinn's plate without waiting for an answer.

Louie spoke again as he set the pot on the stove and returned to the table.

"I used to do some trail driving, myself. Fact is, last couple of years Iled ." I Franklin's herd to Abilene.

"Course this ain't no thing j like bringing a herd all the way up from Texas.

I done that a few times, too. Always got tired of the food.

I expect we could have hired the best cowboys if we'd had an inventive

cook. "

Winn grinned but offered no comment. He found himself relaxing. The food

was good. The coffee was good. The big tin cup was easy to find and didn'tclatter dangerously like Mrs. Franklin's china. He mentioned it to Louie.' "She came and got a couple of tin cups from me. I figured she was usin'

'em."

"Well, sometimes, but it's not something I can count on. It's almost like she's trying to wean me away from them."

Louie laughed and Winn spoke again.

"Can I ask you a question, Louie?"

"Fire away."

"Since your coo king didn't kill me, are you waiting for me to die of

curiosity?"

Louie pretended surprise.

"You're wondering about Peter? Well, there's not that much to tell, after

all. His folks had come out from Kentucky. Didn't have much.

His ma died of a fever and then his pa was killed, some kind of hunting accident, I guess. Peter was kind of vague on that.

"Anyway, he figured there wasn't no thing to keep him there so he buried his

pa, packed up what was useful and rode the old mule to town.

He'd been working since he could walk so he figured he could look after himself.

Funny thing. People got upset with us givin' him a job here even though kids

his age would be doin' the same work on their pa's place. "

"Did you try to find any family back in Kentucky Winn asked. He admired Louie for taking in the child but it seemed like Peter should have been withhis own kin. Twelve was too young to be alone.

"Seems his pa left because of family and didn't none of them want the boy.

We're his family now. Franklin wasn't too happy with the boy but he diedbefore he got around to doing anything about it. "

Winn noticed a certain lack of sorrow at the mention of his late employer'sdeath. He caught himself getting curious again. He had already pried intoother people's lives more than he intended.

Louie watched Winn as he finished his dinner. He did surprisingly well for ablind man, but he was painfully careful about every move he made.

After he led Winn to the house, Louie continued to think about him.

What would the man do if his sight didn't return? Did he even think about it?

If he did see again, Louie decided, he would sure like to hire him. If Mrs. Franklin was serious about staying out here, they could use another hand.

Of course, this had been a tough year and she might decide to give it up.

She could go back to New York to her pa's shipping business and live like shewas meant to.

Louie chuckled to himself. That was a possibility he didn't much like tothink about. He was too old to go loo king for another job. He decided he couldn't blame Winn if he didn't spend much time thin king about the future.

He went to the bunkhouse to clean up the dishes. As he went about his afternoon ch.o.r.es, he kept an eye out for Mrs. Franklin's wagon. When it pulled into the yard in the middle of the afternoon, he went to meet it infront of the barn. He helped Cynthie down from the wagon seat as Peterjumped from the other side. Greg was slowly pulling himself out of a doze inthe back.

"Your Mr. Sutton had a little accident," Louie told her.

"No thing serious.

Just a broken dish and a cut hand. "

"Things like that are to be expected," Cynthie said with a sigh.

"How badly was he cut?"

Greg had shaken off his sleepiness to hear part of the adults' conversation.

"Is Winn hurt?"

"Just a scratch," Louie a.s.sured them both.

Greg jumped from the wagon.

"I told you not to leave him alone! Now he's hurt and it's your fault!"

Cynthie reached out a hand to stop the child as he made a dash for the house

but she was too late. She let her hand drop slowly to her side."This isn't anything to worry about, ma'am," Louie told her."I just wanted you to know before you went inside.""It's no thing to worry about unless he agrees with Greg." Cynthie turned and walked away, leaving Louie to wonder if he had missed something. He sent a questioning look at Peter, who shrugged and continued to unhitch the horsesas if the ways of adults were always somewhat mystifying.

As Cynthie walked toward the house, she tried to think of what to say toWinn. He needed encouragement. The worst thing for him right now would beto start to think, like Greg, that he should never be alone.

Greg, however, had taught her that there were also dangers in pushing toohard.

She was dealing with an adult, an adult she hardly knew. How honest couldshe be with him? He had openly rejected her advice already, even though shesuspected he was applying some of it anyway.

And what if he blamed her the way Greg did? She tried to tell herself that it only worried her because it would effect how he listened to her advice.

What he thought of her personally made no difference otherwise.She stepped resolutely into the house and entered Winn's room. One look atthe handsome face told her she was lying to herself. She cared very muchwhat he thought of her.

He was seated in the chair, listening intently as Greg recounted the trip to town. The boy was swinging his legs over the side of Winn's bed but stopped abruptly when his mother came in.

She smiled at the little boy to cover her agitation. "Go change out of your good clothes."

"I'll be right back," he said to Winn and ran out of the room.

Winn waited for Cynthie to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I hear you hurt yourself," she said softly.

"I don't think it's much," he said. It was odd how nervous she made him."I'm sorry about the dish." It seemed like a lame apology but it was all hecould think of to say.

"Can I take a look?" Her gentle hands were already touching his but shehesitated for a moment. Hearing no objection she began unwrapping Louie'shandkerchief.

She was kneeling on the floor beside his chair and

he could smell the soft flowery scent that drifted up from her hair. He leaned his head back in the chair in an effort to resist the attraction the smell always induced.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, ma'am," he answered, sit ting up again. He tried not to wince as her fingers probed the edges of the cut.

"Is there any chance there's still gla.s.s in there?" she asked, coming to herfeet.

"No, ma'am."

"The bandages are in the kitchen. Come on in. I'll make us some coffee."

Winn listened in amazement to her footsteps as she left the room. Greg hadbeen right. He couldn't hear it in her voice, but she was angry about thedish.

He touched a finger to the cut. It was slightly sticky. He was bleedingagain, thanks to her tender care. If he wanted a bandage, he had to followorders.

As he rose from the chair, he heard Greg's bare feet running down the stairs.A confused picture of shattered goblets and the child's bare feet broughthim to the doorway in a second.

"Greg!" he called.

Greg charged across the room. Winn went down on one knee and let the boyperch on the other. "Don't go near the front door and the table where Ibroke that bowl unless you're wearing shoes," he warned.

"I don't see no gla.s.s," Greg said.

"Any gla.s.s. Your mama's got to wipe the floor with a wet cloth to get thetiny pieces you can't see. Until she's had a chance to do that, you gothrough the kitchen door."

As he spoke he heard the soft tap of Cynthie's footsteps coming from the kitchen.