“Why are you hiding under the sheet?”
This was ridiculous. As much as she hated her son to see the results of the attack, she certainly couldn’t avoid him until her face healed. She slowly lowered the sheet, watching as his eyes grew wide.
“What happened to your face?”
Rachel glanced at Rusty, hoping he would answer. Never good at lying, she was afraid her son would see right through her deception.
Rusty sat at the edge of the bed and drew Will closer. “Remember last night I had you and Amelia stay home and get ready for bed so I could escort your mama back?”
Will nodded, casting an anxious glance at Rachel’s face.
“When I found your ma, she had stopped the horses to rearrange her wagon, tripped on her dress getting out, and banged her face against the wagon wheel.”
“Oh.” He climbed up on the bed and studied her face. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes, a little bit.”
He continued to stare at her in wonder. “Maybe the next time you should wear pants.”
“I don’t have any pants. Ladies wear dresses.”
“Maybe Mr. McIntyre can lend you some pants the next time.” He turned to Rusty. “Right, Mr. McIntyre?”
Rusty’s lips twitched, apparently holding in a grin. “That is actually a good idea, son. We’ll have to see about getting your ma fixed up with pants for her next trip into town.”
“Where is everybody?” Amelia called from the front door.
“In here, Amelia,” Rusty said.
She hesitated as she entered the room, seeming unsure of herself as she took in Rusty, Will, and Rachel all sitting on the bed.
Rachel put out her hand. “Come join us.”
The girl shook her head and stayed where she was. “I just wanted to see if you were feeling better. That bruise looks painful.”
“Yeah, my ma fell getting out of the wagon and banged her face on the wagon wheel.” Will offered the information with a solemn nod of his head.
“All right, everyone. Will, your ma needs to rest for a couple of days. Amelia, can you find Mac and tell him he’ll need to take over the cooking until Mrs. Stevens is better?”
She drew herself up and looked him right in the eye. “I can take over the cooking.”
Rusty rubbed his index finger and thumb over his jaw. “I think you might be able to do it sometime soon, but for now we’ll have Mac take over and you help him.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” She bristled. “You might think you’re my father, but I don’t.”
“Whether you chose to acknowledge me as your father is not important to this conversation. I am the foreman of this ranch, and those decisions fall to me. You will help Mac with the cooking, but he will be in charge. Is that clear?”
Amelia crossed her arms under her breasts and glared at Rusty. Rachel reached out and touched him on the arm. “Let me talk to her.”
He stood. “Fine. Will, you come with me. We need to get Mac started on breakfast, or the men won’t get a lick of work done this morning.”
As he passed Amelia at the door, his expression softened, and he started to touch her on the shoulder, but the girl turned from him and walked over to the bed. He sighed and left the room, his little shadow two steps behind him.
Will waved. “Bye, Ma.”
***
How the hell was he supposed to be a father to a girl almost grown, and who wanted no part of him? Perhaps having her stay with Rachel had not been such a good idea, after all. He felt no closer to the girl now than he had when she arrived. But in the meantime, Rachel’s son followed him around like a puppy dog. Maybe they should switch kids.