A Hopeful Heart by Kim Vogel Sawyer Read Free Book Online Page A

husbands’ arms and escorted them straight out of the church building without giving them a chance to say a word. The single men stood for long seconds, their gazes bouncing between Aunt Hattie’s girls and one another. Then, as if someone had fired a warning shot, they all leaped into action, crowding into the aisle and gathering around the pew at the back of the church, where Aunt Hattie stood like a mother bear shielding her cubs. Ethan and Cole crowded past Abel and clattered down the aisle to join the others.
    The men all talked at once, creating a bigger hullabaloo than the summer day a hound dog pup sneaked into church and crawled under old Widow Parker’s skirt. Rumor had it the shock of having the long-legged hound tangled up in her petticoats—followed by the uproarious laughter of her very own congregation—led directly to her decision to close up her café and move to Junction City and live with her oldest daughter. Abel hadn’t thought any event could best that one, but the excited chatter from the back half of the church proved him wrong.
    Vince stepped beside Abel and shook his head. “Fool men. They act like they’ve never seen females before.” He shrugged. “ ’Course, with ladies bein’ scarce as hens’ teeth around here, I reckon we can’t fault the fellas for struttin’ a bit.” He nudged Abel with his elbow and added, “If I was a mite younger—say maybe twenty-six . . . or twenty-seven . . . I’d be over there lettin’ those gals know I was available, too.”
    Abel grunted. Vince knew Abel’s age, and Abel suspected it was no accident the old cowhand chose to name the number of candles that would decorate his next birthday cake, assuming Aunt Hattie made one for him again like she’d done in the years since his ma’s passing. But he also figured Vince was smart enough to know why he didn’t hurry over and make his presence known to those women.
    Crushing his hat against his thigh, he strode toward the double doors that led out into the sunshiny churchyard. Vince followed. As they edged past the group, Aunt Hattie’s voice carried over the fray.
    “Mr. Samms! You hold up there a minute.”
    Stifling a groan, Abel came to a halt.
    Aunt Hattie’s stern frown sent the men scuttling out of her way. She stepped to the end of the pew, creating a formidable block between the men and the girls. “Cole an’ Ethan was just sayin’ you got a couple o’ cows due to birth in the next day or so.”
    Keeping his gaze angled toward the wide opening only a few feet ahead, Abel gave a brusque nod. “That’s right.”
    “I was wonderin’ . . .” She caught his sleeve and gave it a tug, forcing him to look at her. “My pupils need to see a birthin’, maybe bottle-feed a baby or two. Think we might be able to work somethin’ out where they come to your place an’—”
    “Brewster Hammond’s probably got more cows than me still –needin’ to birth.” Abel shifted slightly, removing his sleeve from her light grasp. “Might have better luck at his place.”
    “That’s right, Aunt Hattie.” Hammond’s son, Gage, stuck his nose into the conversation, his smirk wide. “Nobody’s got more cows than my pa. You’re sure to see a birth or two at our place on any day of the week during the calvin’ season.” He winked at the cluster of girls, but Abel noticed only one responded to his brazen gesture.
    “Brewster Hammond might have more births on a given day,” Hattie countered in an even tone, shifting her frame to block Gage from the girls’ view, “but his spread’s farther out. Makes it harder for me to get the pupils there an’ back without wastin’ most of a day.”
    Abel licked his lower lip, his mind racing. “Don’t you have cows birthin’ on your place?”
    “ ’Course I do, but you know I don’t bring ’em in close like you do. They have their babies out in the pasture an’ my men tend to ’em out there.”
    A thought flicked through Abel’s mind: Why