Too Long a Stranger (Women of the West) by Janette Oke Page A

fine," he quickly informed her. "Jest didn't think it wise to come out."
    "But—but you need to—to get to work," Sarah managed.
    "Rebecca doesn't sleep late. Pa will mind the store until I get there. No one'll be stirrin' in this weather anyway."
    Sarah cast a glance out the window and nodded in mute agreement.
    "Fact is," Boyd went on, his tone casual, "I sorta figured that I might—that you might let me take the run this mornin'. I mean with Ma sorta down, maybe you should jest stay on home with Rebecca yerself."
    Sarah looked at him. Was Mrs. Galvan really sick?
    " 'Course Ma'll be fine," he added quickly at her concerned look. "Jest didn't think it wise to come out. So it would work fine for you to stay on home with the little one and I'll jest take—"
    "But your father will need you at the store," Sarah reminded him.
    "Well—like I said, not much chance anyone'll be stirrin' about today—in this weather."
    "Then you really don't mind staying until Rebecca wakens?"
    "Not a'tall. If thet's what you're wantin'."
    "It is," said Sarah simply and moved to get her coat. He seemed to know that he had lost.
    "Maybe you should show me Becky's clothes," he said to her retreating back. Sarah turned and looked at him in surprise. She had never heard her little girl called Becky before.
    "They are all laid out," she answered him. She always prepared the child's clothes for the next day before they retired at night.
    He watched as she shrugged into her heavy long coat.
    "Got anything better for your feet?" he asked solicitously, his gaze moving to her shoes.
    Sarah shook her head.
    "They're likely to freeze in those—those flimsy little things. At least pull some heavy socks over them."
    "I—I don't have any," Sarah responded.
    "Hasn't Michael—?" He stopped. It had been some months since anyone had spoken of Michael in Sarah's presence. It brought her up short. When she managed to breathe again she spoke, trying to keep her voice controlled, even. "There are likely some in his drawer."
    "Best use them," he responded, and she noted that his voice had a quiver.
    She turned to go for the heavy socks.
    "Be a good idea to pull on a heavy pair of pants, too," he added quietly so as not to awaken Rebecca.
    Sarah half turned to look at him to see if he was serious. A woman—in a man's pants. Hardly. But he was serious. She could tell it by the look on his face. "Never!" she muttered softly to herself.
    "I'll take a heavy robe," she said to the man, and he seemed to know that it would have to do.
    "Take two robes," he replied. "One to throw over the seat and hang down to protect the back of your legs and one to throw over you."
    It sounded sensible to Sarah. She determined to take two heavy robes from those stacked in the back closet.
    ***
    The wind was even more fierce than Sarah had thought. She struggled to make her way against it, fighting to secure her long coat about her and hold tightly to the heavy robes in her arms. She dreaded the thought of harnessing the team and hitching them to the wagon, but as she arrived at the barn, she was surprised to find them already hitched and tied to the hitching post.
    "Boyd shouldn't do that," she mumbled to herself. "He shouldn't pamper me. I can quite look after myself."
    But she quickly chided herself. "He is a good neighbor. His mother has brought him up to be mannerly. Proper. No—more than proper. Christian," she admitted. "I don't know how I ever would manage without her. She likely was the one who sent Boyd out to care for me."
    Tears overflowed onto Sarah's cheeks. She did not know if they had been caused by emotions or the biting wind.
    ***
    "Mornin', ma'am."
    The voice behind her caused Sarah to whirl around. She had not expected someone to be standing near her team, especially on such a cold, stormy morning. She drew in her breath sharply.
    "Didn't mean to startle you, ma'am," the low voice continued but there was really no apology in the tone.
    "What do you—?" began Sarah,