To Love an Outlaw (Into the West #1) (A Wattpad Reading List Choice)

Chapter 8

Immediately gaining the porch, both children began running across the boards, an angry game of Keep Away that would most likely end in injury for one or both parties involved.

Irritated with her children and their behavior in the summer heat, as well as with herself for being caught admiring the outlaw, Samantha grabbed her daughter’s arm and hauled her up against her chair, snapping, “Stop teasing your brother this instant! And never take something that isn’t yours! Now, apologize to your Aunt Callie, and maybe she’ll still let you eat it. William, come here, too!”

Rosemary’s face instantly crumbled, tears bubbling out of her eyes as she began to cry, pulling against her mama’s grip even as she sputtered between sobbing hiccups, “S-sorry, Auntie!”

As usual, Callie melted at the sight of the childish tears, and immediately caved by accepting the apology with alacrity.

“Of course, sweetheart! I’m sure Noah didn’t mind.” At her sister’s narrow-eyed look, Callie continued hurriedly, “But next time, ask him to make sure.”

Having done her duty to both the child and her mother, Callie watched Samantha nod in satisfaction, smooth her daughter’s hair, and then let go of her. Willie stood to the side, all elbows and bare feet, waiting for his punishment for tattling.

He was spared his mother’s wrath by Sonny McQuade, who chose that moment to appear at the foot of the porch steps, the newly split wood under one arm. Resting one boot on the bottom step, the man touched his hat brim at Samantha, and then turned his silver gaze onto Callie. It warmed.

“Good afternoon, ladies. Ma’am, I cut the wood for your stove. If you don’t mind me carrying it in, seein’ as young Lawson is busy already, I’ll ready it for your supper.”

Callie found herself slipping once more into the twin pools of his eyes, their steady regard covering her face palpably, like fingers gliding over a map. She knew she needed to answer, but felt hypnotized, riveted, until, blinking rapidly, the widow broke their indefinable connection, sucking in a breath like a swimmer breaking the surface.

Studiously avoiding her sister’s gaze, knowing full well it was fastened on her, Callie concentrated on the gunfighter’s throat above his open collar while replying, “That would be fine, Mr. McQuade. If you could go through the kitchen I’d much appreciate it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He turned to head around to the back of the house, and then faced the women and children once more. No one else had moved a muscle.

 Looking directly at Callie West once more, Sonny said, “Ma’am, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to spruce up these steps some. A few of them are looking mighty rickety, and I’d hate for you, or one of your guests, to fall through some time. I could go into town in the morning for the fixin’s if you’d like.”

Careful not to hold his gaze too long this time, Callie met Sonny’s eyes briefly, then looked at that tanned throat once more while replying.

“I did notice they had some give to them, Mr. McQuade. I would like your help indeed, if you could first see what we have available in the shape of supplies around here.”

“Certainly, Ma’am.” And to Samantha, “Good day, Ma’am.” The gunslinger then moved on with his purposeful stride, while the occupants of the porch watched his exit silently.

Feeling the silence weigh upon the group like an itchy cloak, and feeling off-balance from her reaction to McQuade’s nearness, Callie stood abruptly, thus signaling to her sister it was time for them to go. With the children running back down the steps toward Noah, who was returning from the orchard with his empty water bucket, Sam turned to her younger sister in hopes of pleading her case one more time.