smiled up at his sister. “You always need to mind the pail—cows have a penchant for knocking it over.”
Dianne swallowed the lump in her throat as Morgan moved aside and motioned for her to take his place. She went closer to the beast and gently touched her rump. The cow hardly seemed to notice. Dianne waited for a moment, just petting the animal with long smooth strokes.
“Work won’t get done that way,” Zane teased.
Dianne lowered herself to the stool and moved the bucket under the udder as she’d seen Morgan do. “Now what?”
“Take hold of her and squeeze and pull at the same time,” Morgan told her. “You’ll get the hang of it after a few tries.”
At first nothing happened. Dianne squeezed as hard as she could but only a dribble of white liquid showed. She looked up to Morgan and Zane, feeling stupid and helpless. Morgan leaned down and took hold of her hand.
“Like this.” He squeezed her hand and pulled down at the same time. The action caused a stream of milk to squirt out against the pail.
Dianne gave a tiny squeal, causing the cow to shift nervously.
Morgan laughed and admonished her, “You need to stay calm.” He stood back up. “Now try again.”
Dianne did and found complete success. “I see,” she murmured. She milked the cow for several minutes, enjoying the rhythmic sound of the liquid as it hit the pail. Glancing up to smile at her brothers, Dianne caught sight of someone rummaging around one of their wagons. “What’s he doing?” she questioned, forgetting the cow, the pail, and the milking. She jumped to her feet abruptly, causing the cow to skitter away, knocking the pail of milk over as she did.
“Oh, bother,” Dianne said, noting the mess. Her brothers had both turned to see what had caused Dianne’s alarm.
“You stay here,” Morgan said softly. “He might be a thief.”
Dianne felt her heart skip a beat as Morgan and Zane moved toward the wagons.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Morgan called out in a gruff voice that sounded much deeper than his usual.
The man, who was crouching to inspect the undercarriage of the wagon, turned with an annoyed look on his face. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Looks like you’re messing around where you have no business. Those are our wagons,” Zane announced.
Dianne disregarded Morgan’s instruction and came up beside Zane. She watched, somewhat amazed, as the man rose to his full height. He had to be at least six foot four, maybe even taller. But his height wasn’t nearly as intimidating as his dark-eyed stare. She cowered and pulled behind Zane, wishing she’d heeded Morgan.
“I’m Cole Selby. I’m working with Daniel Keefer, your wagon master. I have to inspect the wagons to make certain they’re in good working order and that the loads aren’t too heavy or packed too loosely. Now, if you’ll leave me to do my business …” He let the words trail off as he crouched down again.
“Anybody could say they were with the wagon master. We have no way of knowing the truth of it, mister. At least not until we talk to someone who knows you.”
Mr. Selby didn’t even look up at this. “Go ask the Smith brothers if you have any doubt. They can vouch for me.”
Dianne saw Morgan and Zane exchange a glance as if questioning whether they should do this. They were saved having to make a decision, however, when Jeb Smith came walking toward them.
“Mr. Smith,” Morgan greeted, stepping toward the older man. “This man claims to be working with our wagon master. He says he’s supposed to inspect the wagons—is that true?”
Dianne watched the white-haired man for any expression that might suggest Mr. Cole Selby was a liar. Instead, he smiled. “Sure it’s the truth. That’s Cole Selby. He’ll be looking your animals over too.”
They all looked back at Selby, who seemed completely undaunted by their concerns. “I told ’em that, Jeb, but you know children. They’ll fuss and
Dianne swallowed the lump in her throat as Morgan moved aside and motioned for her to take his place. She went closer to the beast and gently touched her rump. The cow hardly seemed to notice. Dianne waited for a moment, just petting the animal with long smooth strokes.
“Work won’t get done that way,” Zane teased.
Dianne lowered herself to the stool and moved the bucket under the udder as she’d seen Morgan do. “Now what?”
“Take hold of her and squeeze and pull at the same time,” Morgan told her. “You’ll get the hang of it after a few tries.”
At first nothing happened. Dianne squeezed as hard as she could but only a dribble of white liquid showed. She looked up to Morgan and Zane, feeling stupid and helpless. Morgan leaned down and took hold of her hand.
“Like this.” He squeezed her hand and pulled down at the same time. The action caused a stream of milk to squirt out against the pail.
Dianne gave a tiny squeal, causing the cow to shift nervously.
Morgan laughed and admonished her, “You need to stay calm.” He stood back up. “Now try again.”
Dianne did and found complete success. “I see,” she murmured. She milked the cow for several minutes, enjoying the rhythmic sound of the liquid as it hit the pail. Glancing up to smile at her brothers, Dianne caught sight of someone rummaging around one of their wagons. “What’s he doing?” she questioned, forgetting the cow, the pail, and the milking. She jumped to her feet abruptly, causing the cow to skitter away, knocking the pail of milk over as she did.
“Oh, bother,” Dianne said, noting the mess. Her brothers had both turned to see what had caused Dianne’s alarm.
“You stay here,” Morgan said softly. “He might be a thief.”
Dianne felt her heart skip a beat as Morgan and Zane moved toward the wagons.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Morgan called out in a gruff voice that sounded much deeper than his usual.
The man, who was crouching to inspect the undercarriage of the wagon, turned with an annoyed look on his face. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Looks like you’re messing around where you have no business. Those are our wagons,” Zane announced.
Dianne disregarded Morgan’s instruction and came up beside Zane. She watched, somewhat amazed, as the man rose to his full height. He had to be at least six foot four, maybe even taller. But his height wasn’t nearly as intimidating as his dark-eyed stare. She cowered and pulled behind Zane, wishing she’d heeded Morgan.
“I’m Cole Selby. I’m working with Daniel Keefer, your wagon master. I have to inspect the wagons to make certain they’re in good working order and that the loads aren’t too heavy or packed too loosely. Now, if you’ll leave me to do my business …” He let the words trail off as he crouched down again.
“Anybody could say they were with the wagon master. We have no way of knowing the truth of it, mister. At least not until we talk to someone who knows you.”
Mr. Selby didn’t even look up at this. “Go ask the Smith brothers if you have any doubt. They can vouch for me.”
Dianne saw Morgan and Zane exchange a glance as if questioning whether they should do this. They were saved having to make a decision, however, when Jeb Smith came walking toward them.
“Mr. Smith,” Morgan greeted, stepping toward the older man. “This man claims to be working with our wagon master. He says he’s supposed to inspect the wagons—is that true?”
Dianne watched the white-haired man for any expression that might suggest Mr. Cole Selby was a liar. Instead, he smiled. “Sure it’s the truth. That’s Cole Selby. He’ll be looking your animals over too.”
They all looked back at Selby, who seemed completely undaunted by their concerns. “I told ’em that, Jeb, but you know children. They’ll fuss and
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