Nate was lounging on the settee, reading aloud to Ma and Elizabeth, when Pa walked through the door. He slammed the book closed. Then Jesse stepped inside behind Pa.
Nate’s smile quickly faded. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have a home to go to?” This would be night number three that he had to share his family. That was enough.
“Jesse’s gonna be staying with us till spring, so be nice.” Pa hung up his hat and coat.
Nate jumped to his feet, biting his tongue to keep from cracking off a few dirty words. A spanking wasn’t what he wanted from Pa nor his mouth washed out with soap.
“You sure?” Jesse asked, eyes wide. “I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.”
Maybe he thought he was only staying for a few days or a couple of weeks. So this had been news to Jesse.
“I’m absolutely sure.” Pa patted his shoulder.
Jesse’s smile was so fat. Good news did that to a body.
Why was he getting this special treatment from Pa? They always seemed to be out somewhere together. Jesse had all of Pa’s attention.
Nate scowled.
“Kate, come quick. Gotta show ya something,” Pa called.
Ma hurried out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, Elizabeth tucked on her hip. Jesse held up a plump turkey, at least twenty-five pounds. Pa boasted about how wonderful a shot Jesse was and blah, blah, blah! Nate didn’t much care to hear any of that.
Ma smiled. “That’ll make a fine meal.” She brushed back the feathers and looked the big thing over.
Why hadn’t Pa taken Nate hunting? They were supposed to have gone days ago—before this Jesse fella showed up and ruined it all. Nate stomped his feet. No one looked or seemed to care. All eyes were on Jesse, and that included Nate’s pissy glare.
Jesse was not even out of his coat, and Ma handed over Elizabeth while she took the turkey. Surely Nate’s eyes were lying to him, had to be. The only way he was allowed to hold his baby sister was when he sat on the settee or a chair. He was never given permission to carry her around. Jesse tickled Elizabeth’s chubby cheeks with a turkey feather, and a deep belly laugh erupted. Nate didn’t want his baby sister to like Jesse. She was too young, but she should be on her brother’s side. After all, Jesse was robbing them of hours with Pa.
“Put my sister down!”
Jesse didn’t flinch, just kept on playing with Elizabeth. Nate stomped his feet harder.
Jesse flicked the feather on Nate, tickling his nose. He began to laugh, then bit down on his lip. He should’ve put more on Jesse’s wanted poster that he’d hung up today. He’d had a mean mind to make a fool of Jesse to teach him a lesson. Now Nate was wishing he’d been more honest. That Jesse was a no-good, rotten, family-stealing thief!
Nate spun away and smacked straight into Pa, and Nate stumbled back. With a quick hand, Jesse caught him, keeping him from hitting the floor. He jerked away without saying thanks and hurried into the kitchen. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Jesse. Nate slumped into a chair next to the butcher-block table where Ma was pulling feathers.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Ma kissed his head, then went back to plucking.
Nate shrugged. He wasn’t dumb. His folks liked Jesse. Why had Pa invited him to stay all winter? This wasn’t fair. Nobody had discussed any of this with him. He was just stuck with Jesse for the next how many months? Nate’s long pout almost touched the floor.
Ma hunkered down in front of him and patted his knee. “Help me pull these feathers.” She smoothed his hair down over his ears and cupped his face in her hands. “I love you.”
Tears welled up in his eyes. Ma’s gentle touch and soft words always made him feel better.
As she yanked out the last feathers, Nate had the rest heaped in a big pile, playing with them.
“Why don’t you ask your pa to saddle Buck? You can take some of these feathers to Johnny and Phillip in town. I bet they would like some. Better yet, we could make the three of you boys each a fancy headdress like the Indian chiefs wear.”
Ma’s face suddenly sobered. She lifted Nate’s chin, her focus intense, and it scared him. “Either your pa or Jesse has to go with you.” She gripped his arm. “I mean it, Nathanial.”
Why was she acting so strange? He hadn’t argued. Something had to be wrong. He had ridden to town plenty of times without Pa, and she’d never taken hold of him like that. What was this sudden concern?
“Okay.” He didn’t really understand.
When Ma let go of him, he rubbed his arm. It seemed she just wanted to keep him there and never let go. That hold hadn’t been mean, but visiting was her idea. Why suggest it if she’d do nothing but worry?
“Why don’t you give Jesse a chance? I think you’d like him.”
Besides being a worrier, Ma was a fixer. She’d put her version of a bandage on any problem anyone was having. If two people were at odds, she was in the middle, pulling them together, smoothing things out. Not butting in where she didn’t belong or being nosy. Ma was a most genuine person, giving neighborly advice when asked. And when it came to family, there was no asking. Ma was just there, which was good most of the time, but Nate wasn’t sure about Jesse. It seemed he was taking Pa away.
The feather tickling had been kind of okay. Why did it seem important that he got to know Jesse?
Ma slipped out of the kitchen. Nate couldn’t help but focus on all the time Pa had spent with Jesse. How could Ma be right, that he and Jesse would get along when it looked as if they would be constantly fighting over Pa?
Ma walked back into the kitchen, carrying her sewing box. Nate was still wrestling with this rivalry business. Were he and Jesse in competition? Pa had said at breakfast that he was just helping Jesse. He didn’t say how long though. Him moving in for the winter felt uncomfortably permanent.
Ma’s fingers stitched masterfully, and Nate soon held three full-size headbands.
“Can I go now?” Nate couldn’t wait to show off the feathered crowns to his buddies. They were going to have great fun playing cowboys and Indians. “Tie this on me, please.”
Ma snugged the band tight around his head, then twisted the knot.
He touched at the high-standing feathers. “Do I look like Chief Sitting Bull?”
“Sure do.” Ma smiled, then checked the venison in the frying pan. “Supper is almost ready.” She was thinking about changing her mind; he just knew it.
“I ain’t that hungry.” His words were coated with lots of sugar. “I can eat when I get home. I promise I won’t be too long.” He put his right hand up and fluttered his long lashes.
“Okay. I’ll keep your supper warm.”
“You’re the best.” Nate shot out of the kitchen.
“Nathanial, remember what I said. Your pa or Jesse needs to go with you,” Ma called after him.
He slapped on his coat, thinking he knew better. He didn’t need babysitting, for pity’s sake. He was not afraid of the dark—unless he heard a scary noise.
“Put on your scarf,” Ma hollered from the kitchen.
“Injuns don’t wear scarves.” He ran out the door.
Nate skidded to a halt just inside the barn. Pa and Jesse were huddled as they worked a harness at the tall bench table, still talking over the fine shot Jesse had made killing the turkey. Nate rolled his eyes. How many times would he have to endure that story? Pa seemed to be too blasted busy to help saddle Buck. He wasn’t even going to bother to ask. Nate would have a go at it himself.
Pa laughed about something Jesse said. Nate touched his feathered head, then regarded the two feathered caps in his hand. He didn’t much like that Jesse had sort of given him the fun gift. Ma really had put together the feathered bands, so the fact that Jesse killed the stupid turkey didn’t count for much of anything. Nate didn’t owe Jesse a thank-you. Besides, he was getting enough gush from Pa. It wasn’t as if he’d shot a mean cougar. A defenseless bird, hardly able to fly, didn’t seem like much to brag about.
Nate pulled his saddle down from the stall rail with a thump on the barn floor. The saddle had been made small to fit him but was still heavy. Even with all the noise he was making dragging his tack, Pa didn’t look up from his work. When had harness work ever been more important than him? There was no guesswork in that answer. Nate hated Jesse more every minute.
“Here.” Jesse picked up the saddle. “I like your feathers, Chief.”
Nathanial snorted. “I don’t want your help!”
Jesse could hear the boy’s pissy little mood in his tone of voice. He still thought he should tell the kid. “It ain’t no good to drag a fine leather saddle across the ground. You could ruin the tree, and then your saddle won’t wear right. Comfort’s important. Do you want your behind to git sore?”
“Give me my saddle.” The little fight cat yanked on the stirrup with both hands.
Jesse dropped the tack. The kid fell on his rump with the saddle on top of him. Nathanial crawled out from under and then ran out of the barn. Jesse picked up the tack and followed. The boy slipped through the fence rails and whistled for the mustang.
The buckskin came running. Jesse’s heart pounded, and with no more than a split second of thought, he took off at a full stretching stride. “Git out of the way.”
The boy didn’t move. What the hell was that kid doing just standing there? The dummy was going to get trampled. Jesse couldn’t make it there in time, but the mustang skidded to a halt. It hadn’t looked to him as if the horse would have time to stop before plowing straight over Nathanial.
Jesse hadn’t dropped the boy’s saddle, even with all that heart-pounding fear. He opened the gate. This time he wasn’t amused as the boy crawled up the mustang’s tail and slid over the rump. Jesse sensed trouble. His gut knotted. He should have trusted his instincts and turned around, but he kept walking.
Nathanial twisted a fistful of black mane, kicked the buckskin, and ran the horse straight at him. Jesse dropped the saddle and hightailed it toward the gate, glancing over his shoulder. That hellion kicked harder, and the mustang charged. The horse was gaining ground quick. Jesse pitched himself into the dirt next to the fence, shielding his head with his arms. That damn brat jumped the mustang over Jesse and the corral railing.
Sheriff Crosson came running from the barn. “Nathanial!” he hollered, but the words got lost in the wind.