The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances by Lynn Hubbard Page B

white. People see what they want to see.”
    She nodded at that; she knew all about people making assumptions. It is what she’d counted on to keep her secret safe for the last couple of years. “You’ll like the McAllister place much better. It’s closer to town and has a barn that’s big enough to house several horses.” She picked up her pace, now eager to show him the place.  Brock stared after her, a thoughtful expression on his face.
    The McAllister place was on the way back to town.  Set in a clearing, it consisted of a small frame house with a pitched roof, barn, corral and water pump. Brock fell in love with it immediately. Tethering Troy to the Bannister outside, he dismounted, surprised to see Will do the same since he had no interest in the previous place. He opened the wooden door and stepped inside.
    The house was about 12x12 with a wood burning stove and a bed that was hunkered down in the corner.  It had a small loft allowed by the extra room from the high roof and Brock climbed up the rickety ladder to take a closer look. Satisfied with the sturdiness of the planks he climbed down.  There was a shallow root cellar dug out near the stove, covered with a piece of siding. 
    Someone had cleaned the place out after Sheriff McAllister passed and he was grateful. He didn’t have the drive to do anymore cleaning. 
    “Looks well kept.”
    Sabrina looked around, feeling melancholy. “It was. I don’t know what you’ve heard around town but Sheriff McAllister was a good man. Sometimes I would come by and help pick the high-bush blackberries for Mrs. McAllister.  They grow on the edge of the woods..  Sarah was her name; she was always baking pies sending them into town for us to eat. She made the best blackberry pie I ever tasted. He kinda fell apart after she passed on.”
    “What happened to her?” Brock asked curiously; he didn’t recall ever hearing Will talk so much at one time before and wanted to learn more.
    “The fever took her.  She put up a battle but wasn’t able to pull through. That’s when McAllister took to drinking. He was lonely.  I think he died of a broken heart.” There was sadness in her voice as she remembered the loving couple. She had never met any of her grandparents but that was how she envisioned them to be.
    Brock was silent as he moved around the small room, grateful for the high-pitched ceiling. Everything seemed to be in good stead.
    “There’s a vegetable garden out back,” Sabrina said, gesturing to the rear door, which almost blended into the wall. Most houses didn’t have a rear entrance but Mr. McAllister was always extra cautious. She opened the back door, which revealed a tangle of vines and weeds.
    It saddened Sabrina to see it in such disarray.  Sarah had worked so hard on it, fighting weeds and critters alike. A few of the hardier plants still were producing vegetables. She would stop by from time to time to check up on the empty place and grab a vegetable or two if she was hungry. Mac wasn’t big on vegetables unless it was a potato.
    “I’m not much into gardening,” Brock said taking in the mess. He turned to walk over to the barn and corral and Sabrina followed.
    The barn was a little worse for wear. It had some rotten boards that needed fixing but the roof was good and the walls were sturdy. A small corral was attached where the McAllisters kept their milking cow.
    Plans flashed through Brock’s mind as he looked around and thought of improvements he could make to the place. He nodded to himself; this was it. This was home. He turned around to head back outside. Not realizing that Will was so close behind him, he almost knocked him on his rump. Instinctively he grabbed Will by the arms to prevent him from toppling over backwards. Brock looked down into the boy’s startled green eyes. He had grabbed onto Brock’s shoulders to steady himself. Brock stood entranced and watched unmoving as Will moved his hand up and gently brushed his