A Love of Her Own by Maggie Brendan Page A

barely caught the edge of the porch and your trunk, so it might not be too stinky inside.” Leon held out his palm as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. “Your key, ma’am.”
    April took a couple of steps closer, handing him the key. Leon walked to the trunk. “It could be worse. Just be glad that Will smoked the entire area, or you wouldn’t be standing this close.” With a serious glance at her, he bent over, inserted the key, and flipped the lid back, exposing not only her outerwear but also lacy cotton underwear.
    Leon’s eyes slid discreetly away from the trunk’s contents. “Aw . . . not too bad. You lucked out, but you need something else to put your clothes in. Then we can burn the trunk.” He stood back up to face her.
    “What do you mean, burn my trunk?” April exclaimed.
    Leon scratched the scruffy stubble on his jaw. “You heard me right.”
    “But I have nothing to put my clothes in! Those are all the possessions I brought with me. Now what do I do?” April looked around in desperation.
    “Excuse me, Miss April,” a voice said behind them. April and Leon wheeled around simultaneously to see young Billy walking over to them. “I can help you with that.”
    “Now how do you figure that, young man?” Leon squinted at the kid.
    “I have a burlap sack here that she can put all her things in. I just told Mr. Kincaid that I’d carry them over to the creek to be washed for you.”
    “Washed? I think that’s a hopeless thing to do, Billy. Thanks all the same. I’m afraid my clothes are ruined!” April tossed her head in the direction of the depot. “The stagecoach manager is at fault. They should have put my belongings inside the depot for safekeeping overnight!”
    “Now see here, you can’t go blaming our operations for what happened,” Leon said sharply.
    April lifted her torn skirt, walking toward the depot. “Who’s in charge of the stagecoach, Leon? I need to talk to him.”
    “You just did,” Leon replied, indicating the depot’s office with a nod of his head.
    April stopped short and looked from Leon to Billy. “ Mr. Kincaid? How can that be—why, he never said a word.”
    “Why should he? He owns the franchise for Overland Stage here in Lewistown.”
    Billy added, “That’s right, Miss April. I just talked to him about working here. And he’s gonna let me lend a hand at the depot. He told me that my first assignment was to get your belongings to you.”
    April laughed. “Is that so?”
    Leon turned to the boy. “Let’s put everything in that sack, but before you go a’washin’ your clothes in the creek, Miss McBride, you need to soak them in a tub of tomatoes. It’ll get most of the smell out, and you’ll be all set.”
    April rolled her eyes, finally comprehending what he was telling her to do. She hadn’t washed an article of clothing in her life and didn’t want to start now. “All right. I’ll put them in the sack myself, but where are we going to find a tub filled with tomatoes and a creek, pray tell?”
    Billy handed her the sack, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m glad you asked that question.”
    April took the sack and marched back to her trunk, then looked helplessly at Billy.
    “I’m gonna leave you two to take care of that. I’m off in search of a bath and a nap. Billy, welcome aboard, as we say on the stage.” Leon smiled and winked, then extended his hand to Billy’s smaller one in a firm handshake.
    April saw Billy’s eyes shine like the rhinestones on her favorite concha belt while he stood watching Leon mosey off. Poor little guy, bet he’s never had a real father. Behind her, she could hear Morgan singing in a rich baritone voice, “’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus . . .”

7
    Wes pulled back on Dakota’s reins, listening. Off to his right, he thought he heard the sound of a woman’s laughter. Couldn’t be. Not way out here. Still, since he was in no hurry today to return home after spending the