A Rancher Posed as a Drifter—A Widow Shared Her Last Bread Without Knowing His Secret
Chapter 2
Daniel woke before dawn.
That was the first thing Eleanor noticed.
The second was that he had already repaired the broken latch on her barn.
The third was that he had fed her two goats.
She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.
“You’re supposed to be a drifter.”
Daniel looked up from the goat pen.
“Supposed to be?”
“You fix things.”
“I know how to use my hands.”
“Drifters usually don’t repair fences before breakfast.”
He shrugged.
“Bad habit.”
Eleanor didn’t smile.
She carried a bucket toward the well.
Daniel followed.
“Leave it,” she said.
“I can help.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t ask me to fix the barn either.”
She stopped.
He stopped too.
For several seconds, they simply stared at each other.
Then Eleanor sighed.
“Fine. Draw the water.”
Daniel did.
He pulled the rope with ease.
Too much ease.
Eleanor noticed the strength in his arms.
“What kind of work did you do before wandering?”
“Livestock.”
“Where?”
“West.”
“That isn’t a place.”
“It was for me.”
She frowned.
Daniel smiled faintly.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“You give very few answers.”
“That keeps a man alive.”
The words came out more seriously than he intended.
Eleanor looked at him.
“What happened to you?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Nothing worth telling.”
She turned away.
“Then don’t tell it.”
That morning, Thomas came outside carrying a wooden toy horse.
He approached Daniel cautiously.
“You know horses?”
“A little.”
“My father knew horses.”
Daniel looked at the boy.
“Was he good with them?”
Thomas nodded.
“He could make any horse stop being afraid.”
Daniel crouched.
“That’s a useful gift.”
“Can you?”
“Sometimes.”
Thomas handed him the wooden horse.
“This one’s broken.”
Daniel examined it.
One wooden leg had snapped.
He turned it over in his hands.
“Give me a knife.”
Eleanor immediately said, “No.”
Daniel looked up.
“It’s just a knife.”
“You don’t need one.”
He understood.
The widow didn’t trust him.
So he handed the toy back.
Thomas looked disappointed.
Eleanor noticed.
“After breakfast,” she said quietly.
Daniel looked at her.
“After breakfast?”
“You can fix it.”
He nodded.
For the first time, something softened between them.
Later, while Eleanor prepared a thin stew, Daniel sat outside sharpening a piece of wood.
Thomas watched him.
“You really don’t have a home?”
Daniel paused.
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“I lost it.”
Thomas thought about that.
“Did somebody take it?”
Daniel looked toward the hills.
“Somebody tried.”
That afternoon, a rider came to Eleanor’s property.
He wore a dark coat and carried a musket.
“Widow Hale?”
Eleanor stepped onto the porch.
“Yes?”
“Name’s Mercer. I’m collecting debts for Lord Ashcombe.”
“I have another month.”
“Not anymore.”
Eleanor’s face hardened.
“The agreement says—”
“The agreement changed.”
Daniel stood behind the barn.
Mercer noticed him.
“And who’s this?”
“A drifter.”
Mercer laughed.
“Then you ought to be careful who you feed.”
Daniel said nothing.
Mercer looked at the cabin.
“Your land borders the old Ashcombe tract. Lord Ashcombe intends to reclaim it.”
“It’s mine.”
“Not according to the new survey.”
“There was no new survey.”
Mercer smiled.
“There is now.”
He turned his horse.
Before leaving, he looked at Daniel again.
Something about the stranger made his smile disappear.
Daniel waited until Mercer vanished down the road.
Then he asked Eleanor:
“How long has he been threatening you?”
“Months.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked at him sharply.
“Why would I tell a drifter?”
Daniel had no answer.
Because he knew something Eleanor didn’t.
Mercer worked for the man Daniel had come to expose.
And the next property on their list was hers.
