Whit looked over. “Do you have any though?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Jeb and Dun were pretty mad when you couldn’t save Ethan.”
“They were, but he was all but dead by the time they brought him to me.” He remembered the pain in Jeb’s voice as he’d screamed at him to save his pa’s life, but the damage had been too extensive, not to mention the blood loss he’d suffered on the long trek from Casper back to Paradise. “Because of Jeb’s death, until proven otherwise, I still say it was Dun shooting at Regan and Anna.”
“We’ll see.”
When he returned home, Regan gave him a look of inquiry as she set the table for dinner, but he didn’t want to discuss the visit to Dun with Anna about. “How about we talk after Anna goes to bed?”
“That’s fine.”
“Did you get everything from the store put away?”
“I did.”
Anna entered and her attire grabbed his attention. Dressed in a pair of denims and a blue cotton shirt, she resembled a miniature version of Regan. Seeing her, Regan smiled and asked, “Are the denims stiff?”
She nodded. “They make my legs feel heavy.”
“They’ll soften up after they’re washed a few times. If they’re uncomfortable you don’t have to wear them.”
“But I want to.”
Colt thought his daughter would wear a saddle if it was somehow tied to Regan. Her desire to emulate her new mother pleased him. The further she took herself out of Minnie’s sphere the happier she’d be.
After Anna went to bed, he and Regan went out to the back porch to discuss the visit to Dun Bailey.
“He denied being involved.” He went on to describe the encounter and finished by saying, “I know it was him.”
“But there has to be proof.”
“We’ll find it.”
She nodded and continued to hold his gaze as if waiting for him to say more. And he had more but no idea how to express it. He remembered how irritated and disappointed she’d been that morning when he hadn’t returned her smile. After what they’d shared last night, greeting her kindly had been warranted, but he hadn’t. He’d never been one to express his feelings, and even though what he felt for her seemed to be growing and expanding, he was more comfortable remaining the man he’d always been. It was a poor excuse, which left him no happier with himself than she apparently was. She was changing him and he wasn’t sure where to stand. “I’ve some journals to look over.”
She replied softly, “Enjoy your reading.”
Chapter Nine
In the days that followed, Colt’s quiet well-ordered life was obliterated by the comings and goings of Porter James and his crew of carpenters with their accompanying racket of sawing and hammering as they worked on his mother’s old bedroom. True to her word, Regan pitched in to help by sanding the floors, applying plaster, and offering to assist with anything else Porter needed doing. The old carpenter was skeptical at first but was soon impressed by her skills, and Colt was glad he wasn’t the only one dazzled by all that she was. She even got Anna involved. He came home late one afternoon to find his denim-clad daughter on her knees in the washroom applying a new coat of white paint to the claw feet of the now sparkling clean tub. “Anna?” he said, voice filled with surprise.
She looked up and smiled. “Miss Regan is letting me help.”
“I see.” There were spots of paint on her nose and left cheek. “Are you having fun?”
“I am. She said we’re going to make my room pretty next.” She paused and asked hopefully, “Is that all right?”
“Of course. I can’t wait to see it.”
Another smile lit up her small face.
“Where’s Miss Regan?”
“She’s outside cutting screens to put on the windows until the glass comes.”
“Ah. How was school?”