Little Sam's Angel (10 page)

"I don't much feel like a rancher, but I don't want you to think that I think bad of you." His handshake was nothing more than a quick touch of fingertips. That was all he would allow himself, since all he really wanted to do was drag her up against him and kiss her.

* * *

Gabe couldn't and wouldn't forget her position. The fact that he also was a rancher didn't cut any ice with him. He'd come by that ranch through a fluke of luck, and a ranch wasn't much more than pretty land without cattle and horses. The land was nothing he'd worked for or earned, and there was little chance he'd ever make more out of it, even if he was to keep it.

Sticking by his resolve to stay away from Miss Samantha Mentrol, it was easy to avoid her if she stopped by the ranch, simply by making sure she wasn't there before he went up to the house when he went in from cutting. It was even easier not to make any trips to her house. He didn't have any business there.

Two months went by with the range quiet and peaceful. Sammy's crew was well down the trail, taking her cattle to the northern rail head. The few times Gabe had been in town, nothing snide had been said about him or Sammy being involved to cause any quarrels, fights, or hard feelings, and nothing about the lies Brenda had told.

The women in the town fussed over Danny something fierce. Gabe never went in to town that someone didn't give some little gift to the boy. Danny stayed quiet and somber, only he was fast growing into the little boy stage. He never seemed to mind where he went or how, as long as he was with Gabe.

The first few times Gabe took him on the horse, Danny rode in front, facing him, clinging to his shirt and pressed as tight as he could get to Gabe's chest. Gradually Gabe was able to coax him around to face the horse's head. If he hadn't been such a subdued child, he'd have grabbed for the reins, anxious to imitate Gabe instead of clinging to the saddle horn. He'd have kicked and squealed in glee or even fear, but Danny never did any of those things.

Sally never commented on the child's somberness or that he never talked. She probably figured since Gabe knew so little about children, he hadn't noticed that it was strange and didn't want to add to his worries for the child. He surprised her one night by bringing it up.

He came in, tired and weary from pushing himself another day to get as much wood cut as possible before it was time for Sally to leave for the evening. He ruffled Danny's hair in greeting the way he did every night, and Danny reached out to be taken up in his arms.

"You leave your Papa be," Sally scolded. "He's tired, and you don't need holding."

Hearing himself called Papa gave Gabe a start. "I ain't really his papa, Sally," he said, grateful to be able to sit down. Even after nearly three months, he didn't seem to have the strength he'd had before he'd been shot.

"You're all he's going to know as such. You do all the things a papa should for him, so it's time he started calling you that."

"He don't never call me anything," Gabe said, staring at the child.

Danny stared back, blue eyes shimmering, begging to be picked up. He'd dropped his hands, but his eyes did all the pleading that was necessary.

"Why don't he talk, Sally? I heard him make noises, so it ain't 'cause he cain't. He ain't deaf, I tested him on that. So why don't he talk?"

"He will when he's ready," she said.

"He don't never smile, either," Gabe went on glumly. "I tried everything, even tickling him. He just won't smile. Think maybe it's 'cause he really don't like me much?"

"That boy loves you more than anything in the world. Don't you ever go thinking any different. He's just got some things to get over. He'll laugh and talk in time."

"Been over two months."

"May be that many again and more. You just let time do its healing and be patient."

Sally set hot food in front of Gabe, then watched as he picked at it. He'd been doing that for several days, just not having much of an appetite.

"You're going to have to stay home tomorrow," Sally told him. "I got some things I got to do."

"I'll take him with me."

"Gabe, you listen to me. You stay home and rest some. You ain't let up a day since you started. Your eating has fallen off, and you don't look much more rested when you get up than when you went to bed. You're pushing yourself too hard."

"I got to. The summer's going by fast. I got things we got to have when time comes to clear out."

"Money ain't that important, Gabe Taylor. You're losing weight now, not gaining like you should."

He smiled at that. "I'm heavier now than I ever been, thanks to your cooking. I'm all right, Sally, really."

"You know, you don't smile much more than that boy does. Could be if you slowed down enough to enjoy life, he'd learn from watching you."

Gabe looked over at Danny thoughtfully. Something Sammy’d said came back to him, something about a child needing love more than anything else. He hadn't taken much time, except in the evenings, to be with the boy. "Maybe one day won't hurt that much," he said.

"Do both of you good," Sally said with satisfaction. "Looks like some rain coming in anyway."

"And you got something to do," he teased.

"Keep you out of the rain," she said with a sage nod. "You sure cain't take him out in it."

"I'd get tarred and feathered if I did. You can go on home now and stop worrying."

The house was always eerily quiet after Sally left. There was never any sound but the sound of his own voice and an occasional grunt from Danny. He kept eating because he knew he should, not because he wanted it much. Then because he was going to be there tomorrow, he left the dishes he didn't feel like doing. Since it was too early yet for Danny to fall asleep, he took the boy out of his chair and carried him into the empty living room.

Sitting Danny down on the floor with several of the toys people had given him, Gabe stretched out beside him to watch and talk to him. Soon Gabe nodded off. When he woke, Danny was curled up in a ball against his chest, fast asleep.

"Dang fool thing to do," he muttered, cuddling the tiny body to his chest to carry Danny to his bed.

* * *

Just as Sally had said, Gabe didn't feel as if he had rested much when Danny's whining woke him up the next morning. Getting breakfast was a chore for him once he had admitted to his fatigue and quit pushing himself so hard. He wouldn't have bothered with fixing anything at all if not for Danny, and then Danny refused to eat.

"Come on, now. I know it ain't as good as Sally's, but it ain't that bad." He pushed the bowl towards the boy, and Danny pushed it away, whining again.

That was enough to make a novice father worry, and Danny got worse as the day wore on. He whined, refused to play, and lay limply wherever Gabe put him, but followed and cried if Gabe went into a different room. About noon, Gabe thought maybe a nap would help. He put Danny in the crib, and Danny cried hard until he was flushed in the face and seemed to have trouble catching his breath.

"I shouldn't be picking you up," Gabe said, doing just that and carrying him to his own straw bed. "You're going to get spoiled something fierce. We'll just lay down here, and you can sleep."

Beside him on the pallet, Gabe listened to Danny hiccup until he fell asleep, then Gabe drifted off into sleep, too. The first thing he noticed when he woke up was how hot and sweaty Danny felt, clear through his shirt.

Gabe thought maybe it was just because they were lying so close together, but when he tried again to get Danny to eat, he still refused, crying to get out of the chair and reaching for Gabe.

"I cain't be holding you all the time," Gabe told him in frustration and worry. "Here, you drink this milk."

He held the cup up to Danny's lips, but Danny turned his head away. "Hold," the boy sobbed.

"Well, guess you can talk well enough when you want something," Gabe said in astonishment and delight. "Here, you drink this, then I'll hold you."

"Hold," Danny sobbed, pushing the cup away.

Gabe was sure then there was something bad wrong with Danny. Since he'd been so careless the previous night, allowing Danny to sleep half the night on the floor without a blanket, he figured it was his fault, too. He was suffering all the trauma of any parent with a sick child, blaming himself and feeling helpless.

He was sure if Sally was there she'd know what to do, but she wasn't, and like she'd told him last night, it was going to rain. It started in the afternoon with thunder and lightning, and it didn't look to be letting up any time soon.

By five o'clock, Gabe was frantic. He was in no doubt that Danny was feverish. The child seemed to get limper by the minute, wouldn't eat, and wouldn't even drink water. Gabe sponged him, but it didn't seem to help, so at six, Gabe put Danny in his bed, cringed at the wailing it caused, and hurried out to saddle his horse.

The buckskin didn't want to go out in the rain and pitched more than usual, adding to Gabe's anxiety. What if he bucked when he mounted with Danny? If he threw them off… maybe he just better stay there with him. Sally would be back in the morning. But would Danny be all right through the night?

"Buck, you give me a bad time, I'll kick your head in," he promised the horse before hurrying back into the house.

He wrapped Danny in a blanket first, then his slicker. There was no doctor in Crossings, and the nearest he knew of someone to help was Sally. He headed for the Rocking M at a gallop.

Gabe skidded to a stop at the front door, too worried to think of what was or wasn't proper. Sammy opened the door.

"Danny's sick," Gabe yelled, running up the steps. "Where's Sally?"

"Sally!" Sammy called, taking the bundle out of Gabe's arms without hesitation.

He followed her, too overwrought with worry to think beyond Danny's needs. He talked rapidly while Sammy laid Danny on the couch and unwrapped him. "He's all feverish, and he won't eat or drink nothing. See how red he is? All he does is cry and sleep."

Sally joined them, her instant apprehension hidden behind briskness. "We'll take care of him. You go get out of those wet things," she told Gabe.

"It's my fault, Sally. I put him down to play, then like a fool I fell asleep. It was the middle of the night before I woke up. He was lying beside me on that floor without a blanket."

"The nights are too warm for that to make him sick," she said, dismissing it without consideration.

"Then what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know yet," she said, using a tone that sounded as if she were placating an idiot. "You just go on now and get into something dry. Sammy and I will take care of him."

"I'm all right," he said, reluctant to leave Danny even for a minute.

A hand on his elbow surprised him. Morey stood there. "Better come along, young fella. Sally gave an order, and she expects you to follow it."

Already unhappy about someone other than Gabe holding him, Danny saw Gabe was leaving and began to fight. He pushed at Sammy's arm with both of his little hands, arched his back, and made a pitiful sound, not quite a cry, yet more than a whine.

The further Morey pulled the reluctant Gabe away from him, the louder Danny's protests got.

"You hurry up, so's he don't make himself sicker," Sally ordered.

"Maybe I'd just better stay," Gabe said, moving to go back to the boy.

"You get out of them wet things, now!" Sally ordered curtly. "You'll be sick next, and he needs you dry and healthy."

"I ain't gonna get sick from a wetting down, I ain't got no other clothes, and I ain't gonna have him cry like that the whole time it'd take these things to dry," he shot back, jerking away from Morey's guiding hand.

"For a man fool enough not to cover himself against the rain, I didn't figure you'd think to bring a change," Sally said, her voice the closest Gabe had ever heard to a yell from her. "Morey will get you something, then you hustle back here."

"You may as well send up a white flag, boy," Morey said, firmly taking Gabe's arm and pulling him away again. "Once them women make up their minds to something…" He hesitated with a wince as Danny began to scream. "You go in there and skin down. I'll fetch you some dry clothes."

"Don't you forget to dry off, too. There's towels in the dresser drawer," Sally yelled before turning to help Sammy restrain the child.

Morey shoved him through a door, and Gabe, spurred to haste by the sound of Danny's frantic screaming, jerked buttons open without the benefit of working them free of the holes that held them in place. He was vaguely aware of one flying through the air, but before it hit the wall, the shirt hit the floor. He hopped around awkwardly, trying to get the wet boots off with one hand while the other jerked at the buttons on his pants. That was when Morey came back.

"Sit down," Morey ordered, throwing the clothes on the bed.

"I can man—" Gabe began then broke off in shock when Morey pushed him. He landed sprawled in a chair, and before he could shove back up, a towel hit him in the face.

"Get that hair dried," Morey ordered, jerking Gabe's foot up.