A Lawman's Christmas: A McKettricks of Texas Novel by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

looked back over one shoulder, caught Clay’s eye and gave an eloquent little shrug of resignation.
    He hoped the distance and the shadow cast by the brim of his hat would hide his smile.
    That kid should have been born a McKettrick.
    Â 
    D ARA R OSE MADE THE ROUNDS that morning just as she’d planned, swallowing her pride and knocking on each door to ask for work, with little Harriet trudging along, uncomplaining, at her side.
    There were only half a dozen real houses in Blue River; the rest were mostly hovels and shanties, shacks like the one she lived in. The folks there were no better off than she was and, in many cases, things were worse for them. Thin smoke wafted from crooked chimneys and scrawny chickens pecked at the small expanses of bare dirt that passed for yards.
    Mrs. O’Reilly, whose husband had run off with a dance hall girl six months ago and left her with three children to look after, all of them under five years old, was outside. The woman was probably in her early twenties, but she looked a generation older; there were already streaks of gray at her temples and she’d lost one of her eye teeth.
    She had a bonfire going, with a big tin washtub teetering atop the works, full of other people’s laundry. Steam boiled up into the crisp air as she stirred the soapy soup, and Peg O’Reilly managed a semblance of a smile when she caught sight of Dara Rose and Harriet.
    Two of the O’Reilly children, both boys, ran whooping around their mother like Sioux braves on the warpath, both of them barefoot and coatless. Their older sister, Addie, must have been inside, where it was, Dara Rose devoutly hoped, comparatively warm.
    â€œMornin’, Miz Nolan,” Peg called, though she didn’t smile. She was probably self-conscious about that missing tooth, Dara Rose figured, with a stab of well-hidden pity.
    Dara Rose smiled, offered a wave and paused at the edge of the road, even though she’d meant to keep going. Lord knew, she had reason enough to be discouraged herself, after being turned away from all those doors, but she just couldn’t bring herself to pass on by.
    Harriet, no doubt weary from keeping up with Dara Rose all morning, tugged reluctantly at her mother’s hand, wanting to go on.
    â€œHow’s Addie?” Dara Rose asked.
    â€œShe’s poorly,” Peg replied. “Been abed since yesterday, so she’s not much help with these little yahoos.” Still tending to the wash, which was just coming to a simmer, she indicated the boys with a nod of her head.
    They had both stopped their chasing game to stare at Harriet in abject wonder. Even in her poor clothes and the shoes she would outgrow all too soon, she probably looked as pretty to them as that doll over at the mercantile did to her.
    â€œMama,” Harriet whispered, looking up at Dara Rose from beneath the drooping brim of her bonnet, “what’s that smell?”
    â€œHush,” Dara Rose whispered back, hoping Peg hadn’t heard the little girl’s voice over the crackling of the fire and the barking of a neighbor’s dog.
    Peg let go of the old broomstick she used to stir the shirts and trousers and small clothes as they soaked, and wiped a forearm across her brow. The sleeves of her calico dress were rolled up to her elbows, and her apron was little more than a rag.
    â€œCould you use some eggs?” Dara Rose asked, in the manner of one asking a favor. “I’ve got plenty put by.”
    A flicker of yearning showed in Peg O’Reilly’s care-worn face before she squared her shoulders and raised her chin a notch. “I’d say no, on grounds that I’ve got my pride and I know you’re having a hard time of it, too, but for the young’uns,” she replied. “The last of the oatmeal is used up, and we’re almost out of pinto beans, but a nice fried egg might put some color in Addie’s cheeks and that’s for