"I can't say as I do, either," Winn said.

"No, me, neither," Jeremiah said quickly.

"But the difference, see, is when I'm eatin' I can tell if it was cooked

good or not. But Peter there, he just got no taste for nothin' but eggs."Winn wasn't sure how he should respond. He couldn't tell how Peter felt about it. He thought it was probably a well-worn argument, if anything soone- sided could be called an argument.In a moment Jeremiah went on."Makes you wonder what the boy grew up eatin', don't it?" He leaned across the table and said in a lower voice, "He's just grinnin' at us.

He knows I don't mean nothin'. "

Winn tried to grin, too, but he felt very uncomfortable. He hadn't been

around Peter much without Greg, and Jeremiah was new to him.Dropping in for breakfast hardly seemed right anyway. The silence was filledwith coo king sounds. Finally Winn asked, "You were up at the house a day or so ago, weren't you?"

"Yes, sir, I was," Jeremiah said.

"I went up to report on the drive. You was up there then, was you?""I heard your voice. Mrs. Franklin lets me use a room off the front roomthere."

"Then you heard about the drive, I guess."Winn didn't see the hopeful look on the man's face. "No," he said."Iheard your voice when you first came in. I didn't mean to be listening anyway. "

Peter brought Winn's plate to the table and Jeremiah got up to get his own.

"Need help?" Peter asked quietly.

"Tell me where everything is."

Peter did and placed a fork in his hand before going back to the stove for

his own plate. Jeremiah brought the coffee and Winn heard the sound of thetin cups being filled. The sense of relief he experienced at not having toworry about breaking a china cup was replaced with a pang almost like regret.It came as a surprise but he didn't have time to wonder about it.

"I'd like to ride Lullaby," Peter said.

Winn was quiet for a moment. He found the young man's tone interesting. He

was stating a desire and asking permission but there was no fear or excitement in his voice, just calm a.s.surance.

"Be my guest," he said after some consideration. "But be careful."

"Before you go risking your hide tryin' to break a horse, you best recollect

Louie told us to get that corral fence mended. It looked to me like that would take most all day even without us star tin' so late."

"Winn could help."

The statement hung in the air and Winn's fork hovered halfway to his mouth.

He was afraid his hand was star ting to shake so he set the fork down verycarefully.

After what seemed like several minutes, Jeremiah spoke softly.

"Mr. Louie give that job to us to do and we don't need to go asking Mrs.Franklin's guest to be doin' none of it."

For some reason that was as embarra.s.sing as being called useless. He was eating a meal from their table; he ought to do something in return.

Before he stopped to think, he found himself answering, "I'll be glad to helpany way I can."

He didn't see the glances exchanged by his two companions. Jeremiah looked doubtfully at Peter, who smiled back before resuming his breakfast as if nothing had interrupted it. After a few minutes of thought, Jeremiah said, "Well, a strong back and an extra pair of hands would sh.o.r.e 'enough make thejob easier. You real certain you don't mind, now?"

Winn answered truthfully, "If I can be of any help at all, I'll be happy totry."

Try is what he did for the next several hours. He was kept busy but he nevergot over the feeling that he was more in the way than anything else.

While Peter and Jeremiah carried the lumber from the barn that would be used to replace the ruined rails, Winn was loaned a pair of gloves and trustedwith a sawhorse.

Peter found the first rail that would need to be replaced and put Winn towork on it with a crowbar. He added a couple of nails to a loose board andfound the next rail for Winn to work on. Jeremiah sawed the boards to replace the ones Winn removed, and Peter stacked the ruined ones to chop forkindling.

Greg joined them shortly after they started.

"Are we fixin' the fence?" he asked.

Jeremiah was the first to answer.

"We's fixin' it but you better be careful you don't get hit with nothin'."

"I'm gonna help Winn."

Winn had quit working as soon as he heard the boy's voice, afraid that he

would misjudge the child's location."I don't think you can help with this," he said."Nope," said Greg, trying to sound like the men. "Don't got no gloves.""Hold my nails," Peter called and Greg scampered away.Winn wondered if his own job was any different from Greg's. Surely it would be easier for Peter to pull off the boards himself than it was to get him

started and wait until he finished. When Winn had torn the ruined rails off one side of the fence, Peter led himback to where they had started. Winn and Jeremiah held the new boards in place and Peter nailed them securely. Winn felt the pull of muscles that hadbeen unused for too long. The feeling wasn't altogether unpleasant.

Despite Jeremiah's predictions, they were more than halfway around the corralwhen they decided to quit for lunch. Greg ran to the house to tell hismother he was going to eat with the men.

"We're fixin' the fence," he reported when he found her in the garden.

"Where's Winn?" Cynthie came to her feet and brushed the dirt from herskirt.

"He's workin', too. Jerry's gonna see what he can rustle us up to eat."

Cynthie smiled. She wondered what Jeremiah Betts thought of Greg's nicknamefor him.

Having dutifully reported to his mother, Greg was eager to get back to thebunkhouse. He darted away as soon as she said, "Be sure to do what you'retold."

Cynthie looked after him and smiled. He loved to he with the men and theywere all protective of him. She knew they would send him back to the houseif he got in the way or if there was any danger. How long could she let himrun loose, though? In a few more years, she would have to start teaching himto read and write. There was more he needed to learn than horses and cattle.

If Victor were still alive, he would be taking the child with him whenever hecould. He had always been good about that. Of course, Victor hadn'tapproved of Greg spending so much time with the hired hands and Cynthie hadsuspected that was why he was willing to take such a small child along ontrips to town. He had told Cynthie once that he couldn't trust her to watchthe child closely enough. She worried sometimes that he had been right.

She looked over the garden with a critical eye and decided she had earned herlunch. As she went inside, she was still thin king about her late husband.Had it ever crossed Victor's mind that he might die and leave her alone? She doubted it. He had always been too self-confident. She wondered if he would approve of her staying here and trying to run the ranch. He would at least be surprised.

The thought made her smile as she brought bread and leftover pot roast to thetable for a quick lunch. She wasn't going to drive herself crazy trying tolive her life to please someone who was gone. In a way, now she had a chanceto prove what she could do, a chance to prove to herself and others she couldsurvive on her own.

She had to admit she loved the freedom. Maybe she wasn't competent to runthe ranch herself, but she would be the one to decide who would help her runit. Maybe she did spend too much time riding and not enough time cleaning,but it was her time. If she let her little boy run a little too free, well,this was the West; people came here to run free.

Thinking about her son in the bunkhouse made her think of Winn. Winn was never far from her thoughts anyway. Greg had said he was helping with thefence. She wondered what he was doing. She had to fight the urge to go downto the corral and watch them.

She sat down to her lunch, enjoying the quiet. Greg had a knack forinterrupting her thoughts and it was nice to sit quietly and think of Winn.There had to be lots of things that he could do, some things that he enjoyed,and she had to help him find them.

She had heard him correct Greg's speech a time or two but never in a way thatmade the child feel bad. He was obviously well educated and so good withGreg that he would make a wonderful teacher. He couldn't teach someone to read if he couldn't see, though.

Cynthie cleared away the remains of her light lunch and washed the few dishes. She had never gotten over the Eastern habit of dinner at night. A snack was enough for her at noon, but she knew the men were used to more.With Louie gone, they were forced to, as Greg put it, rustle something up.Victor would have expected her to cook the noon meal for the hands but thatwould have meant spending the entire morning coo king. They hadn't asked andshe hadn't offered, but she felt a little guilty about leaving them to theirown devices.

Maybe she could fix something tonight and invite Jeremiah and Peter fordinner. Was she hoping to placate Victor's ghost? He certainly seemed to behaunting her today. She grinned to herself. She knew how to get aroundthat. As soon as Greg got tired of fence mending, she'd take him fishing.

If they caught enough fish, she'd feed everybody.

Chapter Nine.

Q^yys^Q reter nailed the last board in place and simply said,

"Done." Jeremiah had already begun to put the tools away.Winn removed the borrowed gloves and returned them to Peter. He stood bylistening to the quiet activity that marked the end of the job and feltGreg's little hand slip into his.

"That was hard work," sighed the little boy.

"Let's get out of the sun," Winn suggested. "Want to help me get my gear up to the house?"

They walked into the relative cool of the barn and Greg helped Winn find the

knapsack and saddlebags. A rifle leaned against the wall nearby.' "What you gonna do with the rifle?" asked Greg, trying to lift it."You better leave it alone," Winn warned."Put this up in the bunkhouse where you keep your own," he said to Jeremiah, who was in the barn when they arrived there.

"Yes, sir," he said, taking the rifle away.

Greg was soon distracted by the saddlebags.

"What's in this thing?" asked the child, struggling with the bags.

Winn shouldered the knapsack and waited for Greg to take his hand and lead him out of the barn.

"Not much of anything, really, but just about everything I own."

Greg laughed.

"That sounds funny."

Winn laughed, too, seeing the child's point of view.

"Is there a gun in here?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Winn said.

"It was in my saddlebag when I was hurt."

"But I thought cowboys always weared their guns."

"Wore. And not all of us. Let's stop at the well before we go in the house.

I could use a drink of cold water."

"Me, too," the boy answered with an exaggerated sigh.

Cynthie met them at the well and lifted the saddlebags from Greg's shoulder.

"How about coming fishing with me?" she asked, ruffling the child's sweaty