Matty woke from where he’d dozed off, rolled in a quilt just inside the barn’s outer wall.
What was that?
The smell of cow was pungent, the soft coos of the chickens the only sound.
And then more noise came, a loud banging. From the cabin.
Matty took off at a dead run, ignoring the protesting pain across his chest. He’d spent the past two nights in the barn instead of closer to the house, not wanting anyone watching them to figure out where he was watching from.
Had someone gone into the soddy and attacked Catherine and Pop? He reached for the gun belted at his side even as he burst into the cabin.
Catherine was tangled in a quilt on the floor, caught between the cot and a table leg.
But the man who pinned her down wasn’t a stranger. It was Pop. His hair was disheveled, but from the back Matty couldn’t get a look at his face or see Catherine, other than her feet that kicked from beneath Pop. Then Pop raised his hand as if he would strike Catherine.
“Stop!” Matty cried. He couldn’t pull his gun on the older man, not knowing what he did about Pop’s mental state.
Pop looked over his shoulder. His eyes were wild.
“You don’t wanna hit Catherine, Pop.”
Matty eased in the door. Another step or two and he could get his arms around Pop and pull the man off Catherine.
“Don’t know no Catherine,” Pop spat. “This here yella-bellied Grayback snuck up on me, tried to smother me in my sleep. And you—”
Matty stepped forward in time to take Pop’s wildly swung fist on his chin. His head knocked back, but he got his hand on Pop’s shoulder.
“Catherine—”
Another fist to his midsection cut off Matty’s words, but Catherine was already struggling out from beneath the blanket, pushing up against the cot. “Pop!”
Pop reached for Matty’s gun, but Matty twisted to the side and got both his arms around Pop’s shoulders.
“Stop struggling,” Matty said in the older man’s ear. “You’re safe in your dugout. On the homestead where you’ve lived for thirty years.”
Pop still fought.
“Calm down!”
“Geoffrey,” Catherine said sharply.
She stood directly in front of him, and Pop went still in Matty’s arms. Matty could see only the side of Pop’s face, but it had gone pale and Pop went limp, leaving Matty to catch him.
His collarbone twinged as he took the unexpected weight. Burned from the unaccustomed movements while grabbing Pop that couldn’t be helped.
“Cath?” His voice emerged weak.
“Is he—” Matty asked.
“Pop!” The alarm in Catherine’s voice changed. She took the older man’s arm.
Pop took a panting breath, and Matty helped wrangle him over to the cot, where he perched gingerly on the edge.
“You back with us?” Matty asked.
Catherine knelt before the older man. “Take it easy, Pop.”
Matty went for the coffeepot, but it looked as if Catherine hadn’t gotten the day started at all. Had Pop woken in a terror and surprised her?
He poured water from a pitcher into the coffeepot and put it on the stove to warm. Then thought again and knelt to open the stove door and stirred the coals, then added some wood chunks.
“I’m sorry, Catherine.” Pop’s voice was hoarse and low.
“I’m all right. Are you okay?”
From behind, Matty could see how Catherine’s hands were shaking. She was putting off a calm demeanor, but she must be shaken up.
“Yep.” But even as he answered, Pop looked frail and shaken himself.
Matty poured the now-steaming coffee into a tin mug and brought it to the older man.
“Thank ya.”
* * *
“I think we’ll all feel better when we’ve had some breakfast.” Catherine couldn’t stop shaking. She turned away so Pop wouldn’t see the sheen of tears in her eyes, but the cowboy was right there and she completed a circle as she attempted to stay her composure.
She pressed a shaking hand beneath her chin and drew in what was supposed to be a steadying breath. “Let me milk Elsie and gather some eggs and I’ll whip up something. Pop, you should lie back down...”
She pushed out the door without waiting for permission, letting her voice trail off over her shoulder.
Outside, the sun glowed just over the horizon. How had things gone so wrong so early in the day?
“Catherine, wait—”
Matty’s voice rang out behind her, but she sped her steps toward the barn. If she could just make it inside, she could huddle up next to Elsie and hide her tears and shaky hands.
It was not to be. His hand clasped her elbow and he halted her with a tug.
“I just need to—” A sob hiccuped out, interrupting what she would’ve said. Be alone?
How had that helped her this morning?
Without her permission, Matty hauled her in close.
And for once, she couldn’t resist the comfort of his embrace. Her arms came around his neck. His hands rested lightly at her waist as she couldn’t stem the tears. She cried against his chest, taking comfort from not being alone. From breathing in the faint scent of horses and stronger smell of man. From his steady breaths, his chest rising against her cheek.
“He w-was calling out in his s-sleep,” she said, voice wobbling.
The cowboy’s hands squeezed her waist gently. He was listening.
“And I th-thought to wake him before it got w-worse.”
His chin rested on the crown of her head for a brief moment, and she allowed herself to feel safe and protected.
And then he ruined it all by saying, “It’s all right.”
She pushed away from him. His hold loosened, but he didn’t let her go all the way.
“How is it going to be all right?”
His gaze didn’t waver. She feared seeing pity there, but in his eyes there was only compassion. A brisk breeze whipped her hair into her eyes, and she pushed it away even as she glared at the cowboy.
“Then maybe it should be, it’s all right to lean on someone every once in a while.”
His words hung in the space between them. A statement that seemed impossible, but almost an...invitation. To lean on him. To depend on him.
But how could she, when he was going to leave again? And when he didn’t know the truth about her parentage?
She couldn’t hold his gaze and let her eyes fall to the grass at their feet.
He nudged her chin higher with his knuckle, his eyes flickering to the bruise she knew must be forming on her jaw. It still throbbed.
“He hit you?” This time his gaze went dark.
Now she pulled completely away from the cowboy with his too-knowing gaze. Of its own volition, her hand came up to cover the tender place on her jaw. “He didn’t mean it.”
“He might not have meant to hit you, but he didn’t know the difference, did he?”
His words were like hurled rocks, even though his voice was gentle.
“You can’t keep staying in that soddy with him.”
She shook her head against his words—maybe against the reality that loomed.
“I have to—” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, toward the barn. She didn’t wait for the cowboy’s acknowledgment but stalked away.
On the milking stool next to Elsie, she let more tears fall with her face pressed against the cow’s side.
Pop had been her only support after Mama had died. He’d worked hard to keep the homestead running. With his mind going and the paranoia getting worse, how could she ask him to move closer to town? Even if she ignored her own discomfort with the idea and worries that she would be ostracized, what if Pop attacked someone, thinking they were his enemy from a war that had been over for decades? He could be jailed, or even sent to a sanatorium.
And he didn’t deserve that, not after everything he’d done for her.
And besides that, how could she ask him to leave behind the land he’d worked since before she was born? They’d cultivated this property. She had the blackberry bushes they shared with the mockingbird down near the creek. The maple that provided sap for syrup for the season. How could they leave behind those years of memories spent with her mama?
But...there was a small part of her that wanted what the cowboy offered. The chance not to have to be alone. Not to have to bear this burden by herself as Pop aged.
Maybe to have...a friend.
Doubts crushed the small seed of desire. If she hadn’t been able to make friends as a schoolgirl, why should she think she would fit in now as an adult? Especially with the secret she carried?
The cowboy seemed friendly enough, but he was stuck here and needed her help. She couldn’t ignore what had happened in the past.
She would have to figure out a way to prevent what had happened this morning from happening again. Some way to ensure Pop couldn’t surprise her.