Callie, who had yet to meet a stranger, was halfway out of Faith’s arms and into Rawley’s before Faith could react, suspended between the two of them, joining them, reestablishing a bond she’d feared had snapped with his leaving. With a self-conscious chortle, she quickly released her daughter’s legs, confident he had a firm grip on the precious child, wouldn’t let her fall. She didn’t want to consider how right it looked for Callie to be balanced on his lean hip, one of her thin arms slung around his neck, her brown eyes sparkling with glee, and her smile large enough to reveal nearly every tooth, including the gap where she’d recently lost her first one.
“How old are you?” Rawley asked.
“Five.” With her fingers and thumb splayed out, she fairly pressed her palm to his nose, so he could easily count the years.
“Well, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh.” She bobbed her head with enough force that her brown braids bounced against her shoulders. “How old are you?”
“Don’t rightly know for sure. Somewhere north of thirty, I reckon.”
She laughed, the sweet, innocent tinkling of a child who had never known hurt. “You’re funny.”
With a grin, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sarsaparilla stick. “Want some?”
Callie nodded enthusiastically. Even while holding her daughter, he managed to snap it in two and hand her a piece. Faith’s heart tightened so painfully with the memories of all the times he’d shared his candy with her that she was afraid tears were going to flood her eyes.
“Rawley Cooper, you know better than to go about spoiling your supper,” Ma chided, the affection in her voice belying any scolding she may have meant to give.
“I’ll still be hungry enough to eat a horse. What about you, Callie?”
She shook her head, taking the stick out of her mouth. “We don’t eat horses. We eat cows. ‘N chickens, ‘n pigs, ‘n rabbits.”
“Do you now?” he asked, as though truly interested in her eating habits.
She nodded. “Grampa once ate a snake.” She scrunched up her face. “Yuck. I don’t like snakes.”
“Me either.”
“Well, no one will be eating snakes tonight,” Ma said. “Come on. I’m sure the cook has dinner waiting on us by now.”
“I need to see to the buggy and horses,” Rawley said.
“Pete’s handling that chore,” Pa told him before raising his arm toward the ranch hand who had already taken hold of the lead horse and was starting to move everything toward the barn.
Rawley turned, the smile he bestowed on the aging man genuine, and Faith wished he’d greeted her with the same glad-to-see-you grin. “Hey, Pete.”
“Hey, Rawley. Glad to have you back.”
“Glad to be back.”
Although Faith heard the truth in his tone, she couldn’t help but believe he might be feeling a bit disoriented discovering how very little remained the same since he’d left.
Ma slipped her arm around his waist. “You’ve gotten skinny.”
Not that skinny, Faith thought. She could see evidence of his muscles filling out the sleeve of his jacket as he held her daughter.
“You probably want to wash up after your trip,” her mother continued. “Your old room upstairs is all ready for you.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, no doubt because he’d moved out of the residence years before he left.
“Callie and I are living in your cabin,” Faith said quickly, drawing his attention. With her, he shuttered his emotions, so she couldn’t tell what he was thinking—and that unsettled her. “If you’re staying we can pack up and come back to the house.”
“No, that’s fine. Stay where you are.”
She wondered if his answer meant he was only going to be here temporarily. Fearing he might question her regarding the details of her life if she questioned him, she hadn’t bothered to ask him what he’d been up to since he left. She knew he’d been herding cattle, but maybe he’d also met someone. However, if he had, wouldn’t he have brought her with him? “I’ll take Callie. She’s all sticky now. Her face and hands could use a good scrubbing.”
“Nooo!” her daughter cried, burying her face in the curve of his neck. “Save me, Uncle Rawley.”
