A Worthy Pursuit by Karen Witemeyer Page B

you?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” The boy set the writing desk on the bunk then plopped himself on the stool she had just vacated.
    “But don’t talk his ear off if he wants to work on his letter, all right?” A fond smile curved her lips as she instructed the boy. Stephen returned the smile and nodded his promise, eager to please. And why shouldn’t he be? If Charlotte Atherton smiled at Stone like that, he’d be hard pressed not to agree to whatevershe asked of him, too. Yet when her gaze brushed his as she left, the affection so evident only a moment ago disappeared behind wary concern. She might be tenderhearted and kind, but she still recognized the danger he posed.
    Something hard tapped against Stone’s knee, bringing his attention back to the boy in front of him. “Here. This is yours.”
    Stone looked down. Stephen held his boot knife, hilt out, waiting for him to take it. Stone’s palm itched to claim his property, but something held him back. It seemed disloyal somehow, a betrayal to the woman who had just tended his wounds.
    “Thanks, but I think your teacher intended to lock that one up with the rest of my things. You should probably go give it back to her.”
    The boy shook his head. “Miss Lottie was the one who told me to fetch it. Said if you’d had it when you went after that cat, you might not have been hurt so bad.” He lifted his arm and offered the blade again. “You probably shouldn’t let Mr. Dobson know you got it, though. He might not like it.”
    Stone took the knife from the boy’s hand and slipped it into the small sheath-like pocket at the back of his right boot.
    She’d given him a weapon. And maybe a touch of trust as well. It was a start.

9
    Stone found himself trapped in the bunkhouse. The doc had stitched him up yesterday and then warned him not to attempt any strenuous chores for the next several days. Not even saddling his own horse. Which made him insufferably dependent on Dobson. Thankfully, the grizzled fellow hadn’t hung around to prod his pride. This morning, he’d dropped off a load of harnesses that needed oiling and left Stone to complete the task on his own. The harness straps filled a few hours, but he’d finished them by noon.
    Miss Atherton brought him a heaping plate of skillet-fried potatoes with bacon and sweet onions for lunch. Tasty grub. The woman knew her way around a stove. She also knew how to sidestep a question. When he’d suggested that Lily pay him a visit that afternoon so he could talk to her, Miss Atherton had her excuses ready. The child had lessons to complete. And chores. And Stone needed to rest after his ordeal. All of which was true, but he recognized a dodge when he heard one. The teacher didn’t want Lily anywhere near him. So when the girlsnuck into the bunkhouse a couple hours later, Stone had to look twice to make sure his head injury wasn’t playing tricks on him.
    The girl didn’t knock, just cracked the door, slipped inside, and closed it behind her. He’d awoken from his doze the moment her tiny feet hit the steps and rolled over to grab the knife from his boot where it sat on the floor. As soon as he recognized her, though, he released his grip on the weapon and moved to sit the rest of the way up. Lily barely spared him a glance. Instead, she pressed her back against the closed door and splayed her arms beside her. Slowly, she turned her face toward him, lifted a hand to her mouth, and set her pointer finger atop her lips.
    “Shhh.” She glanced both ways, as if searching out threats lurking behind the wool socks Dobson had hung to dry over the rafters or the blanket draped over the side of Stone’s cot. “You have to be quiet, Mr. Hammond. I’m playing hide-and-seek with Stephen, and I don’t want him to find me.”
    Stone raised a brow but kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t about to risk running the girl off when she’d just given him the perfect opportunity to start his investigation.
    She tiptoed with exaggerated