Emily frowned. “But he was only what? Sixteen at the time. And he’d just lost his brother.”

“’Round here, a boy is expected to act like a man by the time he’s ten.”

Emily shook her head. At ten, she was still playing with dolls. Would she ever get used to the ways of the west? She sipped her drink thoughtfully. “Why does Chase blame himself for his brother’s death? He’s not the one who started the race.”

“Guilt is like one of those fancy hats some women insist on wearin’.” Hands over his head, he mimicked the feathers that made up fashionable headgear. “They get worn even if they make no sense.”

Cookie’s comparison of hats to guilt made her laugh.

He reached for the pitcher. “More lemonade?”

“No, thank you.” She emptied her glass and carried it over to the sink. “About Ginny…” she said, changing the subject. “Why isn’t she in school?”

“Peggy Sue tried that, but it didn’t work out. The schoolmarm had no idea what to do with a blind child, and Ginny came home in tears more often than not.”

“It must be tough raising a child like that alone,” Emily said. “What about books?”

“Books?”

“I’d like to read to her, but the only books in the house are about cattle raising.”

“I’ve gotta couple of cookbooks you can read to her, if you like.”

Emily laughed. “I’m sure they all have thrilling plots.”

“They do,” Cookie said with a look of mischief. “You never know how one of them recipes is gonna turn out.”

“I’m not sure that a nine-year-old would appreciate the suspense. Is there a lending library in town?”

“’Fraid not. Can’t help you there.”

Emily chewed on that a moment before a smile curved her mouth. “That’s okay,” she said with a mysterious smile. “I think I know who can.”

* * *

Like a woman on a mission, Emily strode across the yard to the stables, anxious to get started. Daisy hung her head over the stall door in greeting, and Emily petted her velvet-soft muzzle.

She was just about to let herself into Daisy’s stall when she noticed Rusty standing motionless by the barn’s open window in back. Something in the way he held himself stoked her curiosity.

Moving closer, she stood on tiptoes and peered over his shoulder. From where he stood, he had a perfect view of the clothesline and Peggy Sue beating a rug.

“I’m taking—”

Rusty jumped at the sound of her voice, and she quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” he said, moving away from the window, his face red. Apparently thinking an explanation was in order, he added, “I was just…eh…getting some fresh air.”

Smiling to herself, Emily took another glance at the housekeeper before following him. Ginny was right—Rusty had taken a fancy to her mother.

“I’m going for a ride,” she said.

He stopped in front of Daisy’s stall. “I’ll go with you.”