Mind Games

In the kitchen, she turned on the light, started the coffee just like any ordinary day. Just as she would if Cora and John were still on this earth with her.

Fighting more tears, she walked to the screen door to let the dogs out, to just breathe in the morning mountain air.

The sun, she knew, would be peeking over the eastern hills, but in this western view the light held back in a quiet, pearly gray.

In that pearly gray she caught movement by the barn. A movement that walked on two legs. Her first thought was the shotgun locked in the closet in the mudroom. She could have it out and loaded in one quick minute.

She had children to protect.

Then she recognized that gangly silhouette, and stepped out on the porch.

“Will McKinnon.”

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Lucy. Didn’t mean to give you a start.”

At seventeen, Will didn’t have his father’s solid build. A walking beanpole with a head full of twists, he carried a lidded pail of milk.

“I milked Aster. I’ll take her on out to the pasture there. And I’ll see to Molly and your ladies.”

He didn’t have his father’s build, but he had Tate’s eyes. Wide and deep and now filled with sympathy.

“Oh, Miss Lucy, I’m so sorry.” He stopped at the porch. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I’m going to take care of things out here. I don’t want you worrying about it.”

She managed a slippery grip on composure as the gray faded toward light with the rising sun.

“Did your daddy send you?”

“No, ma’am. But he said it was fine if I came by and just took care of things for you. I didn’t want to wake you so I didn’t knock.”

Lucy stepped down to where he stood and took the milk pail, set it on the porch. Then she wrapped her arms around him.

After a brief hesitation, he wrapped his around her.

“I’m just so awful sorry. I’ll take care of the milking and such for you, Miss Lucy. You shouldn’t ought to worry about it today.”

“Thank you, Will. You’ve made this hard day just a little easier for me.”

“I can do it as long as you need, and anything else needs doing. You just have to tell me.”

“This morning’s enough for now. It’s helped me when I needed help the most. I’ll take care of the milk.” Stepping back, she patted his cheek. “I can make you a hot breakfast. I’ve already got coffee on.”

“No, ’um, don’t you worry about that either. I know you’ve got your grandkids. I’m just going to leave Molly’s milk and the eggs on the porch here.”

“You have a kind heart, Will. It’s going to take you to some good places.” She went onto the porch, picked up the milk pail. “You brought a little light into my dark today.”

She went back in, then stopped short when she saw Thea and her sleep-starved eyes standing by the kitchen table.

“Who was that?”

Lucy set the pail on the counter. “That was Will, Sheriff McKinnon’s boy. He’s taking care of the chores for us this morning.”

“Did you ask him to?”

“I didn’t have to. He’s a good young man, a kind one. He sees to things here when I come up…”

“When you come for Christmas,” Thea finished. “But you won’t come for Christmas anymore.”

“Thea—”