Evelyn knew the minute that Cole rounded the bend because Blue Boy gave a short yelp in greeting and started wagging his tail. The sheep dog had never taken to anybody as quickly as he had to Cole.
Heart beating out a happy dance, she kept stirring the pot of stew over the open fire. Why was she so happy to see him? She needed to get her emotions under control. As soon as the cattle showed up, he’d herd them through the pass and would forget all about her. She’d likely never see him again unless he just decided to drop in at church on Sundays, about the only day she was in town herself.
Blue Boy’s tail wagged faster and faster as Cole and the pack train drew closer. Unable to help herself, Evelyn glanced up. As expected, Cole rode into view, leading Billy’s pack animals loaded down with the weekly supplies needed for the herders scattered throughout the mountain meadows.
But she didn’t expect the jolt that seeing him gave her stomach.
And she didn’t expect to see the two boys riding alongside him, grinning from ear to ear.
“James? John?” Evelyn straightened, shading her eyes against the sunlight. “What are you boys doing here?”
The boys slid off their mounts and ran toward her. John, the spokesman of the two, blurted out, “We’re here to learn how to herd sheep.”
Evelyn glanced at Cole. “Herd sheep?”
He shrugged then dismounted. “Your grandfather and Reverend Weaver thought they’d enjoy it.” Cole dismounted. “Billy could use the help, and these two might stay out of trouble for the summer.”
“I see.”
“Sheepherders, huh?” Billy joined them, a stout walking stick in his hand, Skittles close to his side. He leaned down and scowled at the boys. “What do you know about sheep?”
James and John faced Billy, mute.
“I see.” Billy slapped his hands on his knees. “Well, nothing like the present to find out. Come on.”
At Cole’s nod of encouragement, the boys followed Billy as he walked toward the flock of sheep. “You boys mind Mr. Billy, now, you hear?”
“Did you see my grandparents?”
“Yes. We stopped by on our way out of town. Your grandmother was disappointed that you didn’t make it home but said she understood.”
“And Grandpa?”
“He’s getting around much better. I think he would have headed this way himself, but when he saw the boys with me, he simmered down. Said they’d be a big help, much like you used to be in the summers.”
“I used to love to spend the summers with Grandpa up here. Not that I got to spend the entire summer with him, but I’d beg and beg, and finally Granny would relent.” She smiled, stirring the stew. “I looked on it as a big adventure, but looking back, I remember Grandpa napping under the wagon in the afternoons. He’d tell me that I was on guard, and that if anything happened, I was to wake him immediately. I felt so important. I’d take the dogs, walk among the sheep, making sure none wandered off. Rarely did anything happen. It was years before I realized that Grandpa was up and about all during the night while I slept.”
“Was it the sheep, your grandfather, or the mountains you loved being around?”
Evelyn looked around at the wide-open valley stretched before her. She smiled. “All of it. I just love being up here away from people. And I love the sheep.”
Cole grabbed one of the packs and brought it over to the fire. “I have to say the constant bleating of the sheep would drive me crazy.”
“Don’t cows bellow a lot?”
He glanced at her, a funny look on his face. “I can’t say I’ve ever noticed it, but yeah, I guess they do when they’re hungry or thirsty or when we’re on a cattle drive. But other than that, they’re pretty quiet.”
“It’s the same with the sheep. Like now. They’re quiet because they’re napping. Just like Grandpa used to do.”
“I reckon you get used to their routine just like you do with cattle.” Cole cleared his throat and moved to her side. “Evelyn, I know you said you didn’t want to go to the picnic, but will you reconsider now that the boys are here to help Billy? Everybody’s expecting you to be there.”
“Everybody? Or just Mrs. Michum and Mrs. Vincent?”
His blue eyes searched hers. “Why can’t you just go to the picnic and enjoy it without worrying what they might think?”
She shrugged, unable to tell him the truth.
He reached for her and turned her to face him, a deep V pulling his brows down in a frown. “Evelyn, it occurs to me that I might have overstepped in assuming you didn’t want to go to the picnic with Hiram Danvers.”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t overstep.”
“Then, I’m asking you again.” His gaze searched hers, and she couldn’t look away. “Will you go to the picnic with me?”
“Why?” Her breath caught in her throat.
“Because I want to see you in that pretty red dress your grandmother is making.”
“You do?”
“I do.” He tipped her chin up then lowered his mouth to hers. Evelyn sighed as his lips closed over hers in a kiss as sweet as the clear mountain air surrounding them.
Cole couldn’t wait to get back to Evelyn’s camp. He tried to convince himself that he needed to see how the boys had gotten along, but the truth was that he wanted to see Evelyn. He’d thought of little else in the five days he’d been gone.
When he rode in, the camp was neat and tidy. The rain had moved out, and the mountainside had bloomed with flowers and fresh green grass. The boys regaled him with tales of what all they’d learned since he’d been gone, and Evelyn smiled shyly at him when she served up beans and corn bread.
The next morning, Cole and Evelyn rode down the mountain, and he left her at her grandparents with a promise to see her the next day at the picnic.
After dropping off Billy’s pack mules at the livery stable, he headed to his Aunt Lily’s. He rapped on the door, and she let him in.
“Cole, so good to have you back. How are the boys?”
“They seemed to be enjoying themselves. I imagine they’ll be tired of sheepherding in another week, though.”
She eyed him up and down, wrinkling her nose. “You could use a shave and haircut as well as a shower if you’re going to attend the picnic tomorrow.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Well, come on in to the kitchen, and I’ll heat some water.”
The aroma of cinnamon, sugar, and butter made his mouth water. He reached for the door on the pie safe. “It smells good in here. Is that apple pie?”
“Don’t you touch it. That pie is for the picnic tomorrow. I’ve got some leftover ham and biscuits in the pantry. But”—she pointed to the enclosed back porch, one eyebrow raised—“get cleaned up first.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Two hours later, he was clean and shaved, and his aunt had plopped him in a chair in the backyard right off the kitchen, snipping at his hair. He closed his eyes and let her do her magic, glad not to have to pay a barber for the service.
“There you go. All done.” Aunt Lily whipped the bedsheet off him. “You’re all ready for your big day tomorrow.”
“My big day?” Cole stood, lifted a hand to his neck, his fingers touching the bristly strands in the back.
“Well, of course.” She flapped the sheet and tufts of his hair fell to the ground. “You’ll have the prettiest girl in Burnt Sage, Wyoming, on your arm, and, well—”
“And well, what?”
“Nothing.” His aunt shrugged. “I was just woolgathering. It’s nothing. Really.”
“Aunt Lily…”
“Oh, all right.” His aunt folded the sheet, looking uncomfortable with the conversation. “Did you know Ollie was engaged to Evelyn when we moved here?”
“I heard about it.” Cole wasn’t sure how much his aunt knew about what had transpired, and he didn’t feel at liberty to share what Ollie and Angie had told him, so he didn’t add more.
“Well, there’s something strange about Evelyn calling off the wedding like she did. Just up and left Ollie standing at the altar and all. I’ve always wondered….” Aunt Lily pursed her lips. “Well, that’s neither here nor there. What’s done is done, and it worked out for the best, I suppose. But Evelyn is a sweet girl, and I’m so happy that you see what I see in her. She deserves a special day and a day to show those—”
“Cole!” Ollie rode into the yard. “I’m glad to see you here. Mr. Mangrum arrived in town earlier today. He wants to see you first thing in the morning.”
“This is wonderful. Where’s he staying?”
“At Mrs. Michum’s boardinghouse.”
Bright and early the next morning, Cole knocked on Mrs. Michum’s front door.
“Mr. Rawlins.”
“Ma’am.” Cole whipped off his hat. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” She swung the door wide. “You’re here to see Mr. Mangrum?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She led the way into the parlor. “I’m afraid he isn’t feeling well, but—”
“Cole?”
Cole turned at the familiar voice. “Helen! I didn’t know you were coming with your father.” Quickly, he crossed the room, and Helen lifted her cheek for a kiss. Cole obliged. “How is he? Mrs. Michum said he’s not feeling well.”
Helen patted his arm. “Oh, he’ll be fine. Just too much of Mrs. Michum’s fine cooking last night, if I don’t miss my guess.”
Mrs. Michum preened at the compliment. “Speaking of cooking, I’d better get back to the kitchen. I’ve got a cobbler in the oven.”
Cole turned back to Helen. “Maybe I should come back later after Mr. Mangrum is feeling better.”
“That might be best.” Helen arched a delicate brow. “But in the meantime, Mrs. Michum tells me that Burnt Sage is having a delightful picnic today to celebrate Independence Day.”
“Would you like to attend? I’m heading that way soon myself.”
Helen beamed. “Oh, Cole, I’d love to. Will you wait while I get ready?”
“Of course. Take your time.”